Beautiful Miyajima Park and Shrine

Most people go Miyajima to see the famous torii, shown here. This is one of the three most-photographed spots in Japan, along with Mt. Fuji and Amanohashidate. When the tide is in, the whole shrine seems to be floating on top of the water -- quite a beautiful effect. I, however, really enjoy touristy spots like this because of the people-watching. Here are a few winners...



Little girl playing on the shrine's enormous stone lanterns



Japanese couple stops in front of the torii to consult a map



Photo op is side-tracked by a couple of social deer



Photographer directing a crowd of uncooperative tourists



Crane posing contemplatively in front of the torii -- He was a big hit with the photo-takers around me. I estimate several hundred shots of him were taken within the four or five minutes he was strolling around out there.



Japanese boy making a wish. One of the great traditions at Shinto shrines is to write your wish on one of these papers and tie it to a tree or a fence like this.





Canal and nearby shops around the back of the shrine



Sidebar about Japanese food: Josh is absolutely my hero for munching down this tako (not "taco," but "taKo" -- Japanese for "octopus") he got from a vendor at Miyajima. Way to be a culinary adventurer, Josh!

Everybody else waited until we got back to Hiroshima and the kids got to taste their first okonomiyaki, which is Japanese for "the good shit" (or, more literally, "what you like, on a grill").



Okonimyaki, which is a very popular food in Kansai, is typically described as a "savory pancake containing cabbage, eggs, flour, pork, and a variety of other ingredients." The Hiroshima version, seen here, also features noodles and MAGIC. The kids did indeed like it, and it became their unanimous new favorite Japanese food.

A Side Note on Japanese Dining

Before we left for Japan, the kids had three major points of anxiety: 1) AH! I don't speak Japanese!; 2) What if I get lost??; and 3) What on earth am I going to be expected to eat?!

I'm happy to say that for the most part, they did a wonderful job of being open to trying new foods. Nobody starved, anyway. Here are a few of their favorites (sometimes favorite foods; other times, just favorite stories about food):



In Nagasaki, we finally had the chance to get our hands on some takoyaki, or "octopus balls." My research shows that five out of six American teenagers understand "octopus balls" to mean little balls of batter containing octopus meat that are grilled (as shown above), smothered in sweet soy sauce, and absolutely delicious. The remaining one out of six American teenagers will interpret this as "octopus testicles" and will turn green and ask for permission to sit outside the shop while her comrades chow down on the scrumptious little morsels. I might be a bad teacher for not explaining this more clearly.



I was delighted when I finally managed to get my kids into an izakaya on one of our free evenings. Izakaya, which are like Japanese pubs, serve a wide variety of munchies, most of which are greasy and delicious (and the reason my jeans went up a size when I lived over there). The kids particularly enjoyed the yakitori (grilled chicken bits, including not just meat but also cartilage) and the horse sashimi (yes, yes, that's raw horse meat).



Chanpon, the most famous Nagasaki food, is a hearty noodle dish with cabbage, pork, and a variety of veggies. Not a big hit with the kids, but I really like it.



One of my favorite Japanese snacks is Meiji chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. Since our return home, the kids have found them in a local import shop, and I'm looking forward to some highly-effective bribes next school year.





Among the kids' favorite discoveries were the various types of Yakults. They started with the basic yogurt-shots and progressed from there to the boys' favorite: Ta Fu Ma N, or "Tough Man," shown with Josh above and in this sexually-suggestive ad below.





They also quickly mastered the vending machines, which are plentiful and stocked with an exciting variety of treats.



We even had dinner one night at a restaurant where you order via vending machine. You put your money in the machine and select a meal, and the machine gives you a little ticket and tells the folks behind the counter what you want. When your number is called, you simply trade your ticket for a delicious plate of curry (like that shown below) or whatnot. Way to reduce human contact as much as possible, Japan.



We also went to a pretty typical Japanese fast-food joint for burgers. The kids expected it would be like the fast-food they were used to at home. Sorry, guys! Eggs and teriyaki sauce on your burger with a melon soda on the side!



They liked the burgers pretty well, but RJ was a little unnerved by the melon-flavored soda.



On the whole though, not only did we not lose anybody, but we also didn't let anybody go hungry. Well done, kids!

Oishii no Tabemono

Mmm, nabe party!

"Oishii" is one of my favorite Japanese words. No matter where in the world I'm living or loitering, I spend a lot of time eating, so being able to say "delicious!" is useful for approximately 75% of my waking life. Combine that with the fact that simply adding "jenai" makes it "not delicious", and I'm good to go.

That being said, the ichiban oishii of all Japanese food really is the sushi. Now I know that sounds like a cop-out answer and you were hoping for something more exciting, but hear me out. There are lots of amazing, astounding, surprising, and incredible foods in Japan. Anything with "yaki" in it is a good bet -- yakitori, yakiniku, yakisoba, takoyaki, and if you're in kansai, okonomiyaki. You can eat all kinds of things alive or nearly alive, including a wide variety of fish and even octopus (see photo below). If you can't eat it alive, you can at least eat it "nama", which means "raw". (Be warned: sometimes they're sneaky and translate this as "fresh".) I've eaten raw things that most people wouldn't even eat cooked. Among the more impressive are sea urchin -- a salty, creamy muck that you spoon right out of the shell -- and horse sashimi, which didn't taste different from any red meat but was a little hard to deal with psychologically. Kind of how I imagine eating a golden retriever would make me feel. And then there are the simply bizaare combinations of foods that on their own would be normal. I once had an omelet stuffed with noodles and soy sauce, for example. Yeah, an omelet.

Dom attempts to swallow a piece of "dancing octopus" -- that is, a tentacle that is still mostly alive and therefore desperately clinging to his tongue and making a titanic effort to climb back out of his mouth.

So there are endless culinary adventures to be had, but I don't miss any of those as much as I miss the sushi.

"But G," you say reasonably, "you can get sushi here at home too."

O reader, it's just not the same. If you go to a decent Japanese restaurant or hibachi grill, you can certainly find good sushi in the States, fresh and only slightly overpriced. Unforunately, if you live in Nowhereville, as I do, you'll have to drive at least forty minutes to get to such a restaurant. In order to justify all that driving, you have to make it into a night on the town, so you add a little sake, hit up a bar or two, do a little dancing... before you know it, an innocent craving for sushi has cost you $200 and a hangover.

One of my favourite things to do when I lived in Yamashina was to pop into the 7-eleven with AJ after work and pick up some sushi. We'd take it home, curl up in front of the Mac, and watch "Spaced" while we munched on our spicy tuna rolls. I also made a habit of running into the Saty for sushi on my lunch break at work. Almost every day. The sushi from Saty was somewhat nicer than the convenie variety and hence more expensive, but it was also fresher (especially since I knew what time each day they put fresh batches on the shelf and went to pick it up accordingly).

In short, I developed quite an addiction to that raw fish and sticky rice combo, an addiction that cannot be sated by a once-in-a-blue-moon trip to a sushi restaurant. If I do ever move back to Japan, this will be one of the top three reasons.

The noodle omelet -- because you didn't believe me.

Nabe, Stew of the Gods -- The Mono Chronicles III

in the midst of my very boring week of sickdom, i've been trying to come up with things to write about and i've been getting a little inspiration. what you're about to read is my first official comissioned piece of writing. i'm expecting payment in full by the weekend, adam.

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The Gaijin's Guide to Nabe

as the winter season approaches, you're probably asking yourself: what am i going to cook that's warm and hearty and will fill my dinner guests' tummies with culinary glee? unless you live in japan. then you're asking yourself: how the hell do i make nabe?

well, relax and settle in because you're about to be trained in the delicate art of this traditional japanese stew.

you will need:

a nabe pot (this is a heavy ceramic or cast iron pot with a lid. if you don't have one, run to the saty and buy one. if you don't have one or live in japan, you can use a heavy sauce pan as long as you keep the heat LOW. or you can order one from amazon.com)

a gas burner (a portable burner that can be placed in the center of your dining table is ideal. otherwise, you can do it on a gas stove, but NOT an electric stove. if you don't have a gas stove, call a friend who does.)

broth (in japan, there are a few varieties of nabe broth but basically your options are a salty seafood broth, which has shrimp or crab on the package, a creamy soy milk broth, or a kimuchi broth, which is spicy and usually in a red package. if you're not in japan, you might find these broths in a very good foreign food market OR if you live in nowheresville like me, you can actually use chicken broth as a substitute for the seafood kind. it's not perfect, but it'll do the job.)

meat (seafood is best. i like to combine crab and shrimp. you can also throw in chicken or, if you're in japan, look for white meatballs at the grocery. they're a sort of chicken sausage -- very yummy.)

veggies & such (cabbage is a must. beyond that, throw in whatever appeals to you. i, because i'm a gaijin, throw in a lot of gaijin things like onions/scallions, corn, broccoli, and even sweet potatoes. tofu's another good addition and clearly more japanesey. i'm allergic to mushrooms, so i don't use them, but you may if you want to.)

all right, now that you've gathered your supplies, let's get cookin'. you might want to turn on a little music. i like something kind of chill, but you can choose whatever inspires you. just keep in mind that the flavor of the music is likely to end up in the stew, so avoid anything too violent or depressing. (don't believe me? read "like water for chocolate".)

step one: put some broth in your pot and turn the heat on medium (or low if you're not using a proper nabe pot). i say "some" broth because you don't want to use it all at once. you'll need to add more later. i typically start with half the broth and add the rest as needed throughout the evening. (note the unopened package at my elbow. if you're in the big jp, that's what you're looking for in the shop.)

once your broth starts simmering, you want to add the cabbage. cabbage is the staple of this stew; you should keep plenty of it in the pot at all times. this is a good opportunity to throw in your onions or scallions too. i also add the sweet potatoes at this point, as they cook very slowly and need all the time they can get to be perfect. the same is true for carrots, if you happen to be a carrot person.

next, add your meats, keeping cooking time in mind. chicken and/or meatballs take significantly longer than seafood, so add them first. you may even want to put the lid on for a few minutes to give the chicken a head-start before you add the seafood (especially if you're using the meatballs, which are thick and cook slowly). if your shrimp turns pink almost instantly, turn the heat down! they'll be tough and rubbery if you overcook them! this dish is all about patience.

your other veggies and tofu can go in once the meat (especially the chicken) is well started. these things will just need to get hot, so they go quick. also, the yellow rolls in the photo are egg, which can be found pre-cooked in japan. otherwise, you can scramble your own eggs separately and add them if you so desire. once you have everything neatly arranged, put the lid on and walk away. entertain your guests with a rousing round of "would you rather" or invent your own embarrassing party game. (i have lots of suggestions for this if you need some creative help.)

keep an eye on your nabe pot to make sure it stays at a simmer, but avoid taking off the lid -- you'll let out all that yummy steam. if it threatens to boil over, turn the heat down ever so slightly.

once your guests are sick of playing games or some snarky comment has sucked the fun out of the room (typically about ten mintues), revive the party by taking the lid off of your masterpiece. expect a chorus of "ooo's" and "ahhh's".

serve up the goods in small bowls, keeping most of the broth in the pot. when everyone has their first serving, refresh the pot by adding more of all your favorite ingredients. replace the lid and let the party continue. nabe is the meal that keeps on giving -- as it gets low, simply keep adding and cooking throughout the evening. (this is why the portable burner works best; it's most convenient to have the stew cooking right on the table as you eat.) i usually poll my guests: "who wants more shrimp? more crab? egg?" etc. but don't ask them about the cabbage. just keep adding cabbage like i told you to.

like all japanese food, nabe goes well with sake and should be washed down with generous amounts of the delicious brew to ensure that the evening is a smashing success.

p.s.

nabe also comes out better if you wear a really cool shirt while you make it, like this "soul-stirring music" raven tee i picked up for a mere 7,000 yen at born free. yeah, i know, i got ripped off. (note: that web page is the actual born free shop in a-square where i bought the raven tee. the internet is magical, isn't it?)

We Interrupt This Blog...

to bring you my very first...

Good Food & Good Times Alert!!

If you have a mouth, chances are that you like good food. That's why I've decided to interrupt my regular programming for the day to bring you a special good food alert. If you don't have a mouth, don't worry; we'll be back to the regular hoo-ha in a day or two.

I'm currently writing from the beautiful city of Chicago, Illinois (that's "ill a noy") where I'm visiting my old college roommate. More on her and the city in general later, but right now it's time for a review of the restaurant and the club where we went last night.

Alhambra -- 1240 W Randolph

Last night we dined at Alhambra, a middle-eastern restaurant on the north side of Chicago. And what a night it was!

For starters, the ambiance of the place is to die for. It's nothing like the real Middle East -- no wmd's in sight -- but it was just like a Vegas version of the Middle East. If you've never smoked hookah while watching a neon-lit belly dancer, now's your chance.

The food was just as impressive. The girl next to me ordered lamb. When it arrived, she took a bite and said, “Hey! I ordered lamb and this is chicken!” Take a quick peak at her plate (below) and you’ll see there are only two options:
1) she’s right and they slaughtered some kind of massive, mutant, chicken monster with inch-thick bones, or
2) this is the mildest and most tender lamb you will ever eat.

I ordered the lobster. Jealous? It was excellent and even came garnished with a little lobsterito. I felt a bit guilty that his young life was snuffed out just so he could sit atop my ravioli; I also hoped the big lobster filling said ravioli wasn’t a close friend or relative. Incidentally, after we finished our meal and were all out on the dance floor gettin’ arab wid it, the waiter cleared our places. For some reason, he left my plate. This meant that my little boiled friend had to sit there for the rest of the evening and watch all the festivities. Here’s a somewhat morbid picture to illustrate:

All in all, we had a fantastic time, so if you want the humas without the Hamas, head on down to Alhambra for a hookah of a good time.




The Underground

This is the hottest club in the city, or so we were assured several times on the way to The Underground. I’ve been to a few good clubs but I’m certainly no connoisseur, so I asked a cute Italian guy with us to explain exactly how The Underground got that title.

Basically, it comes down to two things.

1) It’s extremely difficult to get in. The above-mentioned Italian guy had a friend -- presumably a very wealthy friend -- who had reserved a VIP table. The reservations were for 11 o’clock, but since we were shakin’ our money-makers over at Alhambra, we didn’t get there ‘til after 12:30. Italian guy was afraid that because we were so late, we might not get in. There was also some concern about whether or not I would be able to get in, as I was wearing jeans and sneakers instead of the customary booty-hugging mini-skirt and stilettos. But have no fear, dear reader – even in sneakers I am hot enough to get into the hottest club in Chicago. We walked right past a long line of discouraged and dejected plebeians in their mini-skirts and into the club. This has gone completely to my head, by the way.

2) It’s also extremely expensive. Or so I’m told. Because we were at a VIP table, all our drinks were charged to the table, and I couldn’t even tell you what the cover was – Italian guy just handed the bouncer a wad of cash and he let us all in. Thank you, Italian guy. Thank you, bouncer.

Once you get past the security and the sticker-shock, The Underground looks, sounds, and smells like most other clubs. It’s full of sweaty, slutty, beautiful people, some of them dancing to remember, some dancing to forget.

The VIP table wasn’t even a table in the strictest sense of the word. It was actually a wooden crate on the floor near one wall. It’s primary purposes were holding drinks and marking territory, both very important aspects of a night out at the club. Having a table also allows you the privilege of a little chicky who comes around and pours your drinks, which saves you the trouble of crowd-surfing up to the bar yourself.

Just like the vicious bouncers, the rest of the staff at The Underground are incredibly diligent, especially the woman who buzzes around with a broom and towel and cleans up broken glasses and split booze. This is the first time I’ve seen such a woman in a club, and her no-nonsense efficiency contributed greatly to the safer booty-shaking of all. Thank you, broom lady.

Best for last: the most unique and impressive feature of The Underground is a gigantic Lite-Brite version of a map that stretches across two walls and includes all the countries of the world, plus lines of latitude and longitude. Seriously. The compulsion to stick little colored plastic pegs in the holes will distract you for half the evening. It’s fantastic.



Party on, my friends. Party on.