Travelogue: Spirited Away

[Peter Green]

Hiroyuki,

That's definitely it!  It's odd, coming from Vancouver, but I've never had that.  For some reason it doesn't get onto the menus there (is it all bought up for Japan?)

At least locally, we call this kazunoko kombu here in Vancouver. That is how we've always called it in the Japanese community.

You might try asking for it next time you're in Vancouver, or requesting it a few days in advance, since it does take some preparation. I'm sure you can also buy it from Fujiya or Angel Seafood. My mother usually prepares kazunoko kombu for Oshogatsu (New Year's).

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Thanks, Sanrensho,

After this trip, my plan will be to order some things in advance through the in-laws. There are so many things I hadn't thought about before, and others, like herring roe, that have drifted out of the sieve I call a memory. If I can get back to Vancouver in November (as tentative a plan as any of mine) then I intend to do some experimenting.

[Peter Green]

March 24 – I Don’t Like Mondays

The morning had not gone well.

After some studying and a rehearsal, we went to the nearest Lawson’s to buy tickets for the Studio Ghibli Museum. From the ‘net, it’s apparent that you can’t just show up in Mitaka and wander in. The number of visitors is controlled, and that control is overseen by the demonic ticket machine in Lawson’s.

Everything went fairly well, all according to the step-by-step instructions provided on Studio Ghibli’s site.

Up to a point.

Luckily, we were in Japan. If you stand around looking sad, vainly attempting to get a vending machine to respond to you, someone will make the time to come and help you.

Unfortunately, when you rely on blind luck to be the cornerstone of your planning, sometimes things don’t work out. Our new friend – the Lawson’s clerk - was very sad to inform us that the next available tickets were for the 31st. Given that Scud would be over the Pacific somewhere, and I’d be in Hong Kong, that wasn’t going to work.

So, we adapt. Fate has been unkind this time. But, when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.

Scud and I stopped back at Midtown in search of groceries. This kept us occupied for a short while, long enough for us to sensibly decide to get something to eat.

“Sensible” isn’t a term we use very often.

But the restaurants in the mall were still not open (the cafés were, but that didn’t suit us). We admired the preparation of the daily flower display in the main hall, but, after a few minutes that got old. We needed to get moving.

It was cold and wet outside, the drizzle sending a chill to seep into our bones. It would make sense to find something comforting to lift our spirits.

So, we went back to Tsurutontan.

Normally I’d try to get as much variety as I could in my dining, but this was relatively early on a Monday, it was miserable out, and there were still things on their menu that I wanted to try.

Another draw to Tsurutontan is that they’re open pretty much all the time, which meant we could drop in without having to wait in line.

I started by chasing the cold away. A Miyagi Hidakame (?) jizake. This I asked for warm. It may not be the best way to enjoy this sake, but it was the right thing at the right time.

I loved the presentation, the little wooden box around the warm flask, and a rough and tumble cup to take it with. Scud indulged in a sip, and agreed that it helped to change our perception of the day.

The smell on this heated was wonderful. Extremely full and rich, not what I’m used to in ordering a flask back home. I am definitely going to have to look up the artisan sake makers in Vancouver when I get back……and November is a wonderfully cold, wet, and miserable time of the year for drinking warm sake……well, actuallly that sums up Vancouver for most of the year, doesn’t it?

Scud’s udon arrived, Jidori no udon.

This was a chicken broth, with chunks of chicken meat. After the unfortunate hot and sour experiment of the other day, he wanted something he could rely upon.

“The Hinai Jidori is the famous chicken from Akita Prefecture”. That’s what the menu told us. It was, I will say, extremely soft and pleasant, and the broth was all you’d ask for in a chicken soup.

The Hinai Jidori is a cross of the local Hinaidori (male) of Akita with a Rhode Island. This is a free range (ground) chicken, “raised in fields of clover, and drinking from the freshest of waters”. I don’t believe the chicken get massaged, however.

Reading up on it, there are three famous brands of chicken in Japan. The Hinai Jidori, Nagoya Kochin in Aichi Prefecture, and Satsuma-jidori in Kagoshima Prefecture.

Both the Hinai Jidori and the Nagoya Kochin habe become caught up in scandal recently, however, with the processors sneaking in everyday chicken for some of the products. According to the

Asahi Shimbun,

this has been going on for ten years. Mind you, this particular scandal revolves around the use of everyday meat for smoked products. They figured “no one will tell the difference”.

Reading the related posts, which all seem to be back from the end of last year, there’s been a rash of “irregularities” in the food industry, ranging from mislabled chocolates (Sapporo’s Ishiya’s Shiroi Koibitio), falsified expiration dates on mochi (Akafuku from Ise, who’ve been in the business 300 years), more falsified expiration dates on seafood products (Senba Kitcho from Osaka), and even McD’s has been embroiled in taking their salads past the due date.

It’s always interesting where a bit of reading will take you. But I should get back to the main thread.

I had no concerns regarding my udon. I was having Naniwa no kasu udon. Now, I’m probably wrong, but what I read is that “Naniwa” is an older name for Osaka. As horumon is an Osaka specialty, I’m assuming that this, likewise is from the Kansai, a soup of “intestine of cow after removal of fatty substances, dried, and boiled with udon.”

When you’re already committed to offal, what more could possibly impact your decision?

This was an interesting dish. The intestines had a certain amount of crunch to them, while the fat was still there to lessen the impact. But more of the fat had worked into the broth, giving it an extremely comforting, decadent feel. I wonder what this would’ve been like if they hadn’t removed the faty substances already?

And I really like the attitude here. Tsurutontan wants people to enjoy their udon. If you want double portions of noodles, all you have to do is ask, and they’ll bulk it up for you for free.

We bulked up.

The fat, along with the crunch of the intestine and the balance of the tobiko mushrooms had me quite content. A little sake to clear the grease, and I was back in for more. The Boy, likewise, was face down in his bowl again.

Yup, it may be a cold, wet day in Tokyo, but warm sake and good udon can make you appreciate even that.

Note: edited to fix the links

Edited April 18, 2008 by Peter Green (log)

[Hiroyuki]

There followed a lightly tempura’d thing. This I was told was meshikai katsudaage. Soft, with a taste of a fish mousse.

It may be mekajiki no tatsutaage or something like that...

Yamagobo: I knew little about it. I learned that real yamagobo is toxic, and those roots sold as pickled yamagobo are actually the roots of azami.

Description of yamagobo in English:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phytolacca_americana

Description of azami in English

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thistle

tobiko mushrooms: What are they? Enoki mushrooms?

You went to that udon restaurant twice, and you didn't have simple Sanuki udon!? What a shame!

[Peter Green]

tobiko mushrooms:  What are they?  Enoki mushrooms?

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Yes! I'm just old and forgetful. I think I had tobiko on the brain from the fish roe thing earlier.

You went to that udon restaurant twice, and you didn't have simple Sanuki udon!?  What a shame!

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So many udon, so little time........

[Peter Green]

March 24 – Semantics

Warm and happy, we’d cut back through the alleys to our apartment, and put away our shopping.

This gave me some time to reflect on money. 6,000 yen doesn’t go very far, does it?

However, for that money, you get all the styrofoam stretchy padding you could ever want. Plus, plastic bags out the gazoo (don’t ask me what a gazoo is, I warn you). After only a couple of days here, the amount of packaging refuse was getting higher and higher. Add to that the fact that there’s limited recycling, and I begin to see how Tokyo Bay is being reclaimed.

Unwrapped, some mysteries are revealed.

There’s little fish, fried up and sweetened. There’s a piece of lotus root that’s going home as a souvenir (I”ve been dying to do Sichuan hot pot). Some ikura as a writing snack, along with a wedge of Brie for the crackers. And then there’s a camembert and some pleasant little potatos. I’ve got a lemon around here somewhere, too, and I picked up table salt and a bag of sea salt.

I’ve told the boy I’ll make some lemon boiled potatoes with hot camembert one of these mornings.

The coke is obviously for Scud, and I’ve secured a back-up Ozeki One Cup sake in case of emergency. For the apartment there’s a non-descript bottle of sake for writing with.

The Yebisu is already in the fridge.

I tried looking up the sake, and found an interesting description of the word Karakuchi (辛口). This piece in Everything2 traces how the meaning moved from “pungent mouth” to salty (chilis are pretty modern here) to spicy. Then the writer follows the association trail from salted to dry, which attaches karakuchi to sake as a description of neither spicy or salty, but rather of “not sweet”.

Now, from John Gauntner’s Sake Handbook (which I should’ve bought at the start of my trip rather than at the very end), we see karakuchi described as just “dry”, tied back to the SMV (Sake Meter Value), which is a measure of the residual sugar left in the brew. The scale, with today’s preference for “dry” sits around +3 as a neutral value, reaching up to dry sakes in the +10 range, but only going sweet to around -1 (there may be exceptions beyond this, but these outliers are considered “rare”).

Back to Everything2, they then show how this measure of “dry” was, in Meiji times, extended easily to beer and wine, as a measure of “not sweet” and so explains the use of “Super Dry” in some of the very crisp beers we see.

So, rather than having a burning hot, spicy sake, the bottle I picked up was a fairly neutral sake with not much sweetness about it. Good for sipping at while working on the machine.

I learn something new every day.

[sadie_siamesecat]

Have truly been enjoying reading about your adventures...I don't really have anything pithy to add--but thought I should at least quit lurking and let you know how much I look forward to your updates.

[Peter Green]

Next!

[Peter Green]

March 24 – I yam what I yam

The afternoon was a lazy thing. I was tied down with a three o’clock appointment, so I used the hours to catch up on my writing and take some sake. The Boy ditched me and headed back to Akihabara/Akibahara….the place with all the comics and DVDs. He was happy, I was happy.

My appointment took me up to Iidabashi, where my directions had me going to the Japan-China Friendship Center. I figured, given two weeks of eating and drinking, I should try and do something physical at least once.

Don’t you love it when people volunteer you for things? One of my very good friends, a devoted tia qi practitioner, had been here a month before, and had talked about her Canadian friend who would be coming to Tokyo. Somehow this turned into an obligation on my part to be here…..well, actuallly I quite enjoyed it, and it’s a chance to meet people outside of the food and beverage side of things. People like one older fellow in training who I found to be 92 years old. Heck, he’s spryer than I am.

I returned home from this with both a thirst and a hunger. Scud had already come back with his latest treasures, and he, too, was interested in getting something substantial.

We’d agreed. This evening we were going to go somewhere wonderful.

We were going to Popeye.

Or, to be more exact, Bakusyu Club Popeye

In the little prep I did for this trip, one thing had become clear. I needed to get to Popeye. Beer Club Popeye. If you want to get as much good beer as you can in one sitting, this is the place to be in Japan. Forty beers on tap. Those are words to get any engineer excited.

Microbrewing has had a rough time of it in Japan. As Hiroyuki has pointed out, it’s actually illegal to home brew in Japan (at least above the 1% alcohol level, and then what’s the point?). Breweries, until 1994, were not allowed to produce in volumes less than 2 million litres a year. Then, at that magic moment in time, the legislation was relaxed to allow smaller batches of 60,000 litres to qualify for licensing.

Note that this was a good 8 years earlier than Korea, which only just liberalized their brewing laws in 2002, allowing some small-scale competition into the market.

You’d think that would be the end of the story, but the very same Happoshu we’ve been discussing favourably earlier in this thread are in part to blame for the troubles of the small breweries

That is to say, cost. Craft brewing is never a cheap alternative to the industrial players, and it gets even worse when they’re coming up with innovative ways to deliver a refreshing beverage for less money. With the price point for microbrews in the 800 to 1000 yen plus range for a pint, you’ve got your work cut out for you competing in the open market.

Of course, if you compare that price against what’ll it cost you by the hour in some of the places in Roppongi…..

I wonder if there’s a vending machine out there somewhere in Tokyo dispensing a good small brew bitter?

But, back to Popeye.

I’ll warn you now, this isn’t the only trip to Popeye, so I’ll write some of it now, and save other bits for when I return in a couple of days.

But let’s set the scene.

We came down at Ryogoku on the Oedo line. Convenient for us to catch leaving Roppongi, but it meant a bit more of a walk for us in the streets of Ryogoku. I didn’t mind. As soon as we passed under the JR tracks and saw our first giant fish on display, I started to like this neighborhood.

Walking down along the rail embankment, I almost felt that I was in a cross between a Miyazaki movie and the backstreets of Seoul.

The embankment wall was adorned with murals of days gone by, the sort of turn of the century look of balloons with passengers, seaside viewings, and people with hats with ribbons.

And fronting that (and built in under the tracks) were all sorts of neat looking eateries.

There was one yakitori place with a grill streetside that looked particularly good.

And then there were shops with used clothing

And lots of arcades and pachinko parlours.

I even found a Totoro shop.

And lots of bars.

Like I say, it reminded me of happy times in Seoul.

Ryogoku is also sumo territory, with lots of chanko places around, and the odd bit of statuary. (Is it good luck to rub their tummy?)

None of which helped us in finding Popeye.

The directions looked easy enough, but I was obviously missing a side street somewhere.

Item number 842 to like about Japan. If you approach any nice, older, respectable female Japanese lady in, say, a florist shop, and ask her for “biru klubu Popeye” there’s a very good chance she’ll know it, and will show you the way there with great enthusiasm.

You’ve gotta love this place.

Once we were on the right street, it was easy, and we just looked for the fairly modern place that was packed out with people.

The décor, as you would expect, is centered around beer. It’s a little cramped, but that’s only because they’ve had the good sense to optimize seating (you don’t seem to stand around much in Japanese bars, probably as you’re expected to eat). Still, with all of these tables, Scud and I did need to wait by the door for a few minutes for a table to open. Do you know what sort of torture it is to be waiting, thirsty, by a beer fridge?

The suffering I go through in the name of research.

Soon enough we slid around the chairs to take up position in a corner spot. I wedged in, and sighed with relief that I hadn’t upset any drinks or tables en route. We hadn’t spotted Godzilla yet, but I had a pretty good idea of what he felt like (I’d need more garlic to get the breath right, though).

First excellent bit of news! In the sheef of paper they give you, there’re English menus. And, while I didn’t see anybody obviously foreign, I did pick up Canadian and American accents from a number of the tables around me.

Second good news! Before you’ve even ordered anything, they set a nice little bit of tofu down for you.

Third good news! The staff were fluent enough that we could work out a few important items. The first of which was that I needed a sampler.

Fourth good news! They have towers.

I was very excited.

I’d leapt into the decision to do a sampler, but I still wanted to look at the full listing.

Coincidence. It keeps on cropping up.

The Boy had chosen today to wear his new purchase, the Nine Tail Fox t-shirt (Naruto) that he’d bought in Akihabara. I figured, no one is going to begrudge us our attire in a beer hall.

What should we see on the menu but Nasu Kogen Beer’s Ninetailed Fox Barley Wine, a 2005 product weighing in at 12% alcohol, served in a 50 ml cup.

In a shot I was ordering this for the boy. But it wasn’t meant to be. The waitress came back, very sorry, but the Ninetail was finished for the night.

Probably for the best. Some spirits just don’t mix well.

My taster came, and I was kind enough to give up some of this for Scud’s education.

Our first beer, to the front and right with the fuzzy head, was from Gifu’s Hidatakayama. This was a Weizen. The body was very full, and it was on the sweet side for me. Scud approved of this, and enjoyed the taste in his mouth, while I wasn’t too keen on the overall effect.

Next was another product from Gifu, this time from Hakusekikan – a Belgian White. Again, on the sweet side, with a bit of tang in there, and a reasonable presence of hops.

Number three was from Yamanashi’s Fujizakura Heights; their Sajura Bock. Dark, carrying a good head at first, and also on the sweet side. Again, the split went down with Scud liking it (up there with the Weizen) and myself feeling that there was something missing.

At this point the first of our food orders showed up. “Bitter sausage (the hop is in)”, served with a little bit of sauerkraut, mustard, and some ketsup. This was very, very good. A nice texture to the sausage, without getting too gristly. The flavour did carry the hops well, and I immediately considered ordering another.

But now we had beer numbr four to deal with. From Gunma, this was a product of OzenoYukidoke. The first IPA in the tasting. This wasn’t at all bad, nicely hopped, and with the bitterness I’d been looking for. (This is the one in the middle at the back by Scud’s elbow).

Then it was Mie’s turn, with Isekadoya putting forward two beers. The firsr of these was their Yuzu Ale, a fruity number with a sweetness that came through in the palate and in the nose.

The second Isekadoya (beer number 6) was an IPA again, but this one not as well accented with hops. A kinder, gentler bitter that went well with the Boy, but I was casting my eyes back on the OzenoYukidoke.

Scud had ordered the minimutton steak. This came out quite rare, almost blue. As the plate was sizzling, it must’ve been almost raw when it went on. A nice bit of meat, helped out by having been wrapped in bacon in much the same way as they did with Elvis’ brain. This flavour came out in a great gravy in the bottom of the sizzling plan that we sopped up with the potatos.

Which lined us up for number 7, Popeye’s own Divine Vamp3, an IBA (India Black Ale). I found it very smooth, almost but not quite velvety. A good flavour, with almost metallic notes. Scud, for his part (heathen) described it as reminiscent of dental amalgam.

Then there was a sweet citrus stout (front left here). This was under the heading of “seasonal releases!!”, so I can’t really tell you who the brewer was. I found it on the sweet side, and too thin for me to take it seriously as a stout. It wasn’t a bad flavour, though, and, putting aside the stoutness issue, I could drink this.

After this we returned to Gifu and Hakusekikan for the finish. Number 9 was a barley wine, a 2000 vintage with a 14.3% alcohol rating. This was dark, and tangy in the throat. Good hops, and a pleasant thing to sip slowly. Surprisingly, Scud liked this, too. At least he was smiling a lot.

And our finish was Hakusekikan’s Crystal Ale, another barley wine at 10%, amber in colour and sweeter, striking much more as a Belgian approach.

And, speaking of Belgians, I observed a nearby table ordering in some Belgians, all of which came with the appropriate glasses.

As I thought about the ten we’d just walked through, my favourite would be the fourth, the IPA from OzenoYukidoke in Gunma. Scud chose the Weizen we started with as his favourite.

But, as they say, beer is in the belly of the beholder, or sometthing like that. Popeye’s was crowded and there were more people coming in regularly. Having finished our ten tasters and a couple of plates of food, it seemed improper for us to be taking up needed space.

So we ordered more beer.

I ordered a half of the Isekadoya Pale Ale. This was a gravity tap, which is a fine thing to see in a bar.

My notes are written “That’s a nice one”. This was a very well-balanced ale, pushing the watery side, but without giving up its essential essence of beer-ness.

This called for sausages.

It was the best of times, it was the wurst of times.

The trio was good, not as outstanding as the hopped sausage earlier, but all had a good texture, were properly cased in intestine, and were properly herbed. I could eat these.

Having enjoyed the Ozenokidoke so much, I had to try their hand pumped IPA. This came out with a creamier head than the regular tap version, and the hops were even more pronounced. I wouldn’t put it up there with Singapore’s Brewerkz’ XIPA, but this was a very drinkable beer.

The menu included a reference to Popeye’s famous snake potatos. I figured, what the heck. “Strings of fresh fries” sounded good. It was fried.

But these weren’t hot. They suffered from having been kept around for awhile as bar snacks. Pity, as they were very similar to what we’d seen last year on the streets of Myongdong in Seoul, and, hot, it’s an excellent way to maximize the surface area for frying.

And remember “frying is good”.

A pair of foreigners came in. Regulars, one would assume, by the cheers that went up from staff and a number of the customers. I’d call them “serious beer drinkers” except that they were smiling too much to be too serious.

That last hand pull was so good that I decided to stretch my luck and went for a half of the Iwate Kura IPA. Again, an excellent head, and even more hops in this one.

Scud, of course, exercised his right as a new beer drinker to have a baked Alaska.

Why is it that we only find baked Alaska in places with good beer? Here at Popeye, and at the Londoner in Bangkok (but that was years ago. No longer available on Sukhumvit, sad to say).

Scud was very happy with this, even when I tried to get the waiter to blowtorch his eyebrows off.

I finished with a foreigner, taking a half of Oregon’s Rogue Breweries Brutal Bitter. It was a name I couldn’t pass up, and the flavour, with a bite that made Scud wince, took me back to the overhopped products of some of Vancouver’s better establishments.

I do need to get back home some day.

So, bearing in mind that we were going to be up early the next day, and that the trains would be shutting down soon, we headed back home.

IMPORTANT Note for everyone in the Tokyo area!

I also noted, just at this point, a sign on the wall indicating an upcoming date – the 20th of April (which means I need to post this now). I hailed our waitress, and she told me that there was a beer fest coming up, with 100 beers competing. So, for those of you reading today, and in Tokyo, call up Popeye at 03-3633-2120 www.40beersontap.com for details.

(is it just coincidence I got to this point just now?)

[Peter Green]

March 25 – It Smells Like Fish…

It was 4:30 a.m. and we had to be moving.

You knew I was going to do this. For good or bad I had to go to the market. I had to do the pilgrimage.

Honestly, I’d debated this beforehand. Early morning tour of dead sea critters vs lying in bed and then drinking coffee, watching cartoons, and writing on the computer.

What had turned the trick in my head was an article in the Cathay in-flight (March 2008 “Tsukiji – Slipping Away”) that described the market, and then went on to detail the city’s plans to do away with the 23 hectare site in Chuo Ward and move everything to a newe spot on Toyosu Wharf, increasing the market to 38 hectares. That sounds pretty good, in terms of getting people more room to work, but consider that the government is going to be using part of that space for shops, museums, cooking schools, and a theme park.

Okay, I can deal with cooking schools, but do you really need a theme park at a market? “Honey, I’m just popping out for some tuna, squid, and maybe a ride on the Monster Mouse.”

Otherwise the piece was as you’d expect. “It’s nice to have something new, but we’re attached to the old lady” sort of stuff. About what you’d expect for a market that’s been functioning for around 70 years.

So, yeah, if plans go through Tsukiji will be a thing of the past by 2012.

At least that gave me something to use in convincing Scud he had to go. That and brute force.

Pain usually works.

Next.........something different

[Peter Green]

Before I put up the next post, let me just say that I swear I have not joined PETA or any other cult.

It's just something that wanted out.

[Peter Green]

March 25 – Part 2 – Fade to White

Early mornings in big cities give you a different perspective on things. Consider Bangkok. There’s something magical about the way the skytrain lights come on with morning just breaking through the smog, the last of the drunk tourists vomiting in the gutter, the katoey rifling their pockets, and the first few Isaan workers shambling stoically to their posts.

And in Tokyo, with the first train of the morning, sleep is still like some eldritch spirit, it’s fingers distributed through the warren of underground passages, clutching the Japanese in a grip of somnolence.

Our train already had people on board, and almost all were sleeping, piled in slantwise drifts against the rails; heads thrown back, or else nodding forward, white masks pulled up and covering their features. Faces wiped clean of emotion, of personality. This was a sleep with dreams.

One young lady slept (we think) across from us, her hair fallen forward, a hood pulled up, just a black hole where her face should have been.

It was almost like you could feel the torpor stretching out into the dark that we were hurtling into.

Finally we fell upon Tsukijishijo. Around us sleep fell away from most of the bodies and as a group they arose and filed out onto the platform. No smiles. No emotion.

This placed us at the foot of the Asahi Shimbun offices, and only two blocks from the market. We strode off, into the dark.

There’s a grim efficiency about the market. I saw no one laugh, or even smile at this time. There was a swarm of traffic as the trucks, carts, forklifts, and handcarts glided about each other, oblivious to the pale ghosts of tourists that tried to worm their way through this giant carcass of a market.

White. Everywhere you looked was white styrofoam. Coincidentally the colour of death.

There was a seriousness here, a business like attitude, a professionalism. This lacks some of the aesthetic charm of Garak Sijang (although there’s a certain amount of white styrofoam there, too), it lacks the feeling of community, and enjoyment.

Perhaps this was in part due to the hour of our arrival. We were hardly here at peak time, rather in the twilight of the sales surge, when the meat is either spoken for, or being packed away for another day.

For some it was too late for a reprieve. They were dead and destined for some use, if not the table.

Like patients on life support, or perhaps more like bodies kept alive for their organs, the water lines snake about to the shellfish. These are still with us, to wait their fate another day.

But consider this huddled mass, who linger on the brink of death in their frozen sleep.

And sleek squid, their eyes frozen in the surprise of death.

In Bangkok last WGF, Karl Kanetani (spouse of Katrina Kanetani

from the Pier, and chef at Este, both in Sydney) talked of how the Pier’s fishers had adopted the iki jimi kill. Traditionally, this is a spike to the top of the head, but can also bethrough the gill and up to the brain. In either case the intent is to kill extremely quickly, and so not stress the fish. The rainbow pattern on a tuna can indicate a painful end. But Karl talked of a new method, Hitchkokian in detail, that sees a steel wire introduced into the spine of the still-live fish, reducing it to a state of torpor – but not death. I imagine that nightmare time, when you’re awake, but you can’t bring yourself to move. The Thai describe this as the phii aam, which sits upon your chest while you sleep, and slowly crushes you.

I can see that thread, descending into the flesh, and then touching the nervous system with a cold kiss.

And all you can do is stare.

And when death comes, it may be a simple cut, a release, with a blade of elegant sharpness. An operation, rather than an execution.

An image expressed in the clean sheen of steel, but finalized in scarlet.

The slow writhing in your own blood.

Disassociate the dead from their corpses, and they’re beautiful with the richness of their colour, from deep reds to white-mottled pink, like a selection of wines.

And, at some point, the relationship between body and meat is severed, and you can marvel at the flesh as a thing, as an object, and forget life was a part of it.

Next: I lighten up

[Peter Green]

There.

My apologies if anyone found it on the grim side, but I've been on a steady diet of Lone Wolf and Cub, Zatoichi, and Takashi Miike flicks.

So that just needed out.

I'll return to the standard $110 morning tour of the market now (after I get some sleep).

[Hiroyuki]

from the Pier, and chef at Este, both in Sydney) talked of how the Pier’s fishers had adopted the iki jimi kill.  Traditionally, this is a spike to the top of the head, but can also bethrough the gill and up to the brain.  In either case the intent is to kill extremely quickly, and so not stress the fish.  The rainbow pattern on a tuna can indicate a painful end.  But Karl talked of a new method, Hitchkokian in detail, that sees a steel wire introduced into the spine of the still-live fish, reducing it to a state of  torpor – but not death.  I imagine that nightmare time, when you’re awake, but you can’t bring yourself to move.  The Thai describe this as the phii aam, which sits upon your chest while you sleep, and slowly crushes you.

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Probably ike jime (活け締め).

Hitchkokian? I've never heard of it. Is it similar to Kaimin Katsugyo?

Originating in Japan, hence the unfamiliar name, “Kaimin Katsugyo*” is a unique technique developed to keep fish immobile, yet alive. “Kaimin” means to “sleep soundly” and “katsugyo” means “live fish”.

With its roots in Chinese acupuncture, this efficient and economical technique instantly renders fish motionless through the simple, yet strategic insertion of a needle. Migratory fish such as mackerel cease all movement save branchial respiration.

from here

[Shelby]

Those shellfish look so good.

Was the smell in there overpowering at all?

[Peter Green]

Those shellfish look so good. 

Was the smell in there overpowering at all?

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Strangely, there was almost no smell.

It was oddly clean, and sterile (almost).

If there's anything I associate with it, it's that non-smell of styrofoam.

More soon.

[Peter Green]

March 25 – Part 3 – Back on the programme

"Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it's tuna, but it says 'Chicken by the Sea.'" Jessica Simpson from MTV’s Newlyweds.

Scud and I putzed about, getting our shots in while trying not to be overrun by massed squadrons of forklifts. And then I noticed some activity over to our left, across the alleyway which constituted a deathtrap of speeding hardware, through what appeared to be a hanger door.

This is where they keep the big boys.

Charlie! What have they done to you Charlie! They’ve mutilated you and put you out on display!

Okay, I said I wouldn’t go grim again.

Let’s consider the history of mascots in the tuna business. And songs! If there’s anything guaranteed to get me universally reviled, it’ll be planting the seed of those catchy theme songs in your head again.

Okay, first Charlie the Tuna.

Born in 1962, there’s a lot of controversy surrounding Charlie. The accepted version is hat he’s the product of actor-songwriter Henry Nemo, who was buddies with Tom Rogers, who in turn worked for the Leo Burnett Agency, who in turn had the advertising contract for StarKist.

However, another claim, but actress Maila Numi (Best known as Vampira, and part of the cast of the classic Plan 9 From Outer Space……if you haven’t seen Ed Woods, do it now) held that Charlie was actually the offspring of James Dean, who had sketched him before his death (James’ death, that is).

And now look at poor Charlie. Beret gone, gutted and amputated on the auction floor, he was still a tuna with good taste.

Tuna, when you consider them, are a marvelous fish. They’re fast. Really fast. I’ve seen them whipping by underwater in the Red Sea by Hurghada. And they come in a great variety of sizes, form the salmon sized ones we’d catch back in Egypt (and eat grilled with a drizzle of oil), to the bigger fish that we see on the market floor here, up to the giants of the sea that’ll fetch the big big bucks.

Sorry, Charlie.

Now, let’s not forget the Chicken of the Sea Mermaid. “Ask any mermaid you happen to see, what’s the best tuna? Chicken of the sea.”

Try as we could Scud and I couldn’t turn up the mermaid. Maybe she’s out there in one of the back alleys, her pearls and wand long since pawned for booze money, scavenging scraps from the rubbish bins….?

Okay, okay, I’ll get off of the grizzly theme!

Where was I?

Oh, yes, the auction.

The majority of the fish up for grabs were frozen. In part for shipping, but also in part for ensuring the death of the host of parasites that thrive in fish. Yoonhi was mentioning this, that most wild fish needs to be frozen (if feasible) for quite some time to ensure that the critters along for the ride are killed off. Salmon, typically, can often be frozen for months before it’s used. This works well enough with oily fish like salmon and tuna, as ice crystallization doesn’t damage the meat too much (but does pierce and kill the parasites).

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

And if you think fish doesn’t have parasites, Yoonhi has some wonderful stories of her mother’s, watching the fish fillets go by on the conveyor belts under harsh industrial lighting. You gotta love harsh lighting, it shows every little, squirmy thing off to its best.

You guys have read all this before. The buyers marking their fish, the crowds gathered round the auctioneers, each buyer with his tag on his cap.

What was different for me was seeing the tourists herded off behind the ropes so that they didn’t interfere with business too much. This really has become the de rigeur tour of a Tokyo visit. I hadn’t seen this many foreigners outside of Roppongi before.

Most of them seem to have come in groups, with one tour guide keeping them more or less contained, while others, like Scud and I, had drifted in in ones and twos.

But, you can only spend so much time watching people buy fish. And watching people watch people buy fish. We took our shots, and headed on.

Next: More fish

And, if you think I forgot about Bumblee Tuna, check out this

(which gets us back on the anime/manga topic).

[Shelby]

I love seeing all of this. Those tuna are HUGE and must weigh a bunch!

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

*faint*

[Peter Green]

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

  *faint*

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I really like the part about hacking up a nematode

[Shelby]

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

  *faint*

←

I really like the part about hacking up a nematode

←

Yes right after you feel the tickling sensation

[Domestic Goddess]

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

   *faint*

←

I really like the part about hacking up a nematode

←

Why were there no pictures?

You can tell I'm a big "Alien: movie fan

[Shelby]

For a real appetizing read, check out this bit of alien happiness from the FDA.

  *faint*

←

I really like the part about hacking up a nematode

←

Why were there no pictures?

You can tell I'm a big "Alien: movie fan

←

That's the first thing I scrolled down to look for

[Hiroyuki]

I don't fully understand the "tone" of Peter's posts about Tsukiji Market. No intention to insult him or anyone else here, just my impression.

I posted some photos of a tuna cut show here. It's more like a Shinto ritual, so to speak.

Killing other creatures to sustain our lives is just another "fact of life", isn't it? (Do I make sense?)

[Domestic Goddess]

Hiroyuki - Peter's grim and macabre tone was set by the reading material he was indulging before the market. (Did I get that right Peter?). I found the posts very refreshingly different. I like it!

Peter - they did a food special on Japan and they showed the Glico armpit guy! And I saw some restaurants that you featured in your photos. It was neat seeing it on video.

[MomOfLittleFoodies]

I don't fully understand the "tone" of Peter's posts about Tsukiji Market.  No intention to insult him or anyone else here, just my impression.

I posted some photos of a tuna cut show here.  It's more like a Shinto ritual, so to speak.

Killing other creatures to sustain our lives is just another "fact of life", isn't it?  (Do I make sense?)

←

Not speaking for Peter, but I know that most people in places like the US and Canada are far removed from the fact that our meat was once part of a living animal.

It is just a fact of life, but it still makes some people queasy or uneasy.

Edited April 23, 2008 by MomOfLittleFoodies (log)

[Peter Green]

Sorry for being away for a couple of days, but the latest flu is passing through with the duststorms, and even my godlike physique (Bacchus, although some hold out for Dionysius or the Sileni, who aren't really gods, but more just old, overweight lecherous satyrs) has succumbed.

So, I've been away from the keyboard for a bit.

However, I'll try to catch up, although there is a physical law that indicates that the constancy of writing is inversely proportional to the square of the time away from the topic.

Or something like that.

Anyways, let me proof part 4 of Tsukiji, and then we can think about dinner.