Oh High School, glad to see you never change

Hi guys,

So as many of you know, I've been part-time teaching English here in Japan since it's by far the easiest way to get a visa.  Usually, I teach business English in one-on-one lessons, but occasionally I do other things.  One day a week, for instance, I teach an hour-long English class at a private high school--which is very different indeed from one-on-one with adults.  But I manage

One interesting note about teaching English is that it's always a good idea to keep in mind the first language of all the students (in this case, Japanese, duh).  For instance, take the concepts of articles and plurals:  A/the pencil, an/the eraser, the scissors.  This is no problem for Spanish speakers, because those concepts exist in Spanish: Un/el lapiz, una/la goma, las tijeras.  They do not, however, exist in Japanese--every noun has a single form no matter how many there are, and there are no articles.  It makes sense when speaking, you just always have to make sure to use the other words to contextualize

Thus, concepts like the definite versus the indefinite article (adding in the fact that there is no indefinite article for plurals), go from being whisked past on the first day of class to actually somewhat advanced.  Well, not advanced, but certainly worth reviewing to make sure they have it (because hell, I have problems with this concept with my adult students)

My point is that going through simple sentences like "I have/want/like _____" shows up even in high school classes, where they have a pretty good command of the language due to the past man years of taking English classes.  Anyways, that was just background so that you can fully appreciate my latest work of Art.  Inspired by true events, I've written a one-act (one-scene, really) play entitled "High School Humor"



"High School Humor"

A play in One Act

by Noah T***

Inspired by true events

SCENE 1

[Many desks are arranged in a circle.  TEACHER stands at the head of the classes, with STUDENT A, STUDENT B, STUDENT C, and chorus seated in the desks]

TEACHER:  "Ok, so we'll go around.  Everyone make a sentence with 'I want' and then anything you want.  STUDENT A, you go first"
STUDENT A:  "I want . . ." [thinking]
STUDENT B:  "A girlfriend!"
[all laugh]
STUDENT A:  [still thinking]
STUDENT C:  "A boyfriend?"
[all laugh much harder]

CURTAIN



It's comforting to know that some things don't change.  Not just the subject matter, but the fact that managing to make a joke in foreign language class turns even the meagerest of japes into a Wildeian witticism.  But mostly the picture-perfect format of this conversation that could happen probably in any language in any country in the world

By my estimate, I am 10 years, 5,000 miles, and 3 lifetimes away from that fateful first period Japanese class.  So long ago.  But the point is, I'm pretty sure that joke would have gone over just as well.  Hell, I wish I still had the ability to ask for confirmation, because there's a decent chance we had pretty much that exact same exchange.  If I had to guess, I was probably STUDENT B

Noah out

Shinatetsu Ramen Street

Hi everybody,

Now, there is one good thing to come of my repeated trips to the Immigration office over the last month.  And that's that I got to make multiple visits to Shinatetsu Ramen in Shinagawa--a conglomeration of seven well-known ramen chains within one block

Oh yeah, it's as awesome as you're imagining

Tucked underneath the train tracks, there's no good way to get a picture

These picture were taking mid-afternoon.  Around lunchtime, the lines are waaay longer

Now, a quick explanation:  Ramen is an incredibly varied cuisine.  Although the texture and thickness of the noodles varies, as well as the assortment of the toppings, the main focus of each unique shop is its broth.  With just a few exceptions, ramen broth falls into four categories:

• Tonkotsu, pork bone based broth.  Rich and flavorful.  Though originally from Kyushu (the Southwest region of Japan), this is by far the most popular broth here in Tokyo
• Shoyu, soy sauce based broth.  Strong flavor but light texture.  Originally the style most popular in Tokyo, it's still very popular probably because it's the easiest to make at home
• Shio, salt based broth.  The lightest broth, with the subtlest of flavors.  Despite the name, not particularly salty--this is simply the name for the lightest of broths, allowing a much more subtle expression of flavors.  Probably because those softer flavors take more skill to acheive this is one of the least common and least popular broths
• Miso, erm . . . miso based broth.  Thick and hearty.  My personal favorite, although very difficult to find here in Tokyo.  Originally from Hokkaido, way up North, which actually is where my family is from so I guess that explains it

Without further ado, here have been my experiences so far at Shinatetsu:

Maybe my favorite, black miso ramen from Keisuke.  Charred bamboo, as well as a blend of  spices, give this a bold savory flavor.  The thicker noodles (traditional to Hokkaido) match with the hearty broth perfectly

A nice surprise, traditional chicken broth--basically a tonkotsu ramen, but with chicken bones instead.  Cleaning the borth repeatedly gives it that pale white color and an incredibly light flavor.  Add in a topping of roasted chicken (makes me a bit homesick) instead of the traditional pork, and this was totally unexcpected and delicious

Very traditional tonokotsu ramen from Nansutei.  The straight, thinner noodles are also traditional to Kyushu.  I did mix it up, however, but going with the topping set of raw onions and braised pork--the brightness of the onions was a really great contrast to the heavy broth

Switching things up, a tsukemen--dipped ramen, where the noodles are served separate from the broth and dipped in as you eat.  The broth is a shio, very very light.  This allows them to accentuate their choice of added flavor, in this case umeboshi, Japanese salted plum.  Light flavor, slightly sweet slightly sour, with some earthy sesame seeds floating on top to tie it together.  Absolutely a winner

And there we have it!  This is of course only the barest subsection of the world of ramen.  I hope to be able to update you all on some more different kinds soon!  But if you're in Tokyo and you want to see as many different types of ramen in one place, Shinatetsu is not a bad place to be . . .

Of *course* there's a gift shop

Noah out

Oh my god I finally have my Visa holy crap that took forever

Hey everybody,

So sorry it's been a while since my last post, I've been pretty much nothing but one giant pent-up bundle of nerves for the last few weeks as I finalize all of my visa stuff.  This has been unbelievably complicated.  Let me explain.  No, there is too much, let me sum up:

1. Get job
2. Work applies for Certificate of Eligibilty
3. Receive CoE
4. Take CoE to Immigration (the exact same office, literally same building, from which work obtained the CoE by the way)

   

   Journal Entry:  Sunny day, cautiously optimistic.  Every single one of the eight or so turns from the train station to the bus stop for Immigration has a big sign pointing the way.  I'd feel patronized, except they were actually really helpful

5. Wait an hour or more in a queue
6. Get looked at for about thirty seconds, have a few pieces of paper either removed from or added to my folder, then get told to go wait in a different queue in a different section of the building

   

   Journal Entry:  Morale fading.  This is godless country.  The screaming of children is ubiquitous.  Babies, stop crying in Immigration. We get that you're not having a good time.  Actually, the sounds of children playing take place at the same octave as children crying, so I don't even know which I prefer

7. Repeat Steps 5 and 6 three more times

   

   Journal Entry:  Hour 5 (not exaggerating in the least, and that was only one of the days), morale precarious.  Madness has begun to set in.  Boredom and hunger leading to hallucinations, other people waiting are starting, Looney-Tunes-style, to look like hamburgers, chicken legs, etc.

8. Run out of time, have to go to work
9. Report back the next day
10. Repeat Steps 5 and 6 another two times

    

    Journal Entry:  A new day, but regardless it starts off with that depressing moment when you realize that every single one of those people is, by definition, ahead of you in line.  The very concept of "morale" seems a fantasy, a distant memory from idyllic youth

11. Finally submit visa application, get told that it will take an indeterminate amount of time between one and three weeks
12. Receive postcard in the mail that visa is ready! (yes, really, mail.  No phone, no email, mail is the only way they notify you)
13. Go to Immigration and immediately pick up my visa which has already been prepared
14. Haha just kidding!  First, go through Steps 5 and 6 two more times

    

    Journal Entry:  Hello darkness, my old friend.  At least I learned from experience and brought a snack this time.  Sta-don in Shinagawa, which is short for "Stamina donburi (rice bowl)".  Which was encouraging, because that's what I needed

15. Finally, finally, finally.  That sweet, sweet piece of plastic.  The clouds part, the angelic choir sings, the streets are made of rainbows.  Though we have walked through the darkness of bureaucracy, we have emerged into the glorious light of certification.  It was all worth it

Here we are.  97 days after landing at Narita, I am now officially and unequivocally cleared to remain here in Japan for the next 5 years.  It feels good.  It feels great

The only downside of this whole ordeal?  I will never, ever, ever be able to watch one of my favorite episodes of Futurama, How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back, the same way ever again.  I just can't laugh in the same way at bureaucracy any more :(

Noah out



(keeping in mind, though, that all of this was happening parallel to another set of bullshit complications over at the US Embassy while I attempted to get my passport renewed.  But that is a story even more arduous and terrible than the Japanese Immigration one, and simply cannot be told without truly terrible levels of anger and profanity.  Trust me, you don't want to know)

CURRY IS DELICIOUS, JOSH

Hi everybody,

So, a little bit ago, my good friend Josh checked his inbox to find the following message:

From: Noah T***
To: Josh K***
Subject: CURRY IS DELICIOUS JOSH

"Hey Josh,

What are you up to this weekend?  Oh, yeah, uh-huh, cool, whatever I don't care because this weekend is the KANDA CURRY GRAND PRIX and we are going

http://kanda-curry.com/

CURRY IS DELICIOUS, JOSH"



And thus began our curry adventure . . .

See, Kanda, an area in Central Tokyo, is known among other things for its curry.  Jinbocho, for instance, is in the heart of Kanda.  And it is in fact in Jinbocho that, once a year, the curry shops get together to hold the Curry Grand Prix.  Which is exactly what you're all hoping it is--the best curry shops in the area get together, set up booths in an empty lot, and compete to see who has the most delicious curry.  Wanna know who won?  Spoiler:  Everybody

Just one of many rows of curry shops, I want to say there were at least 20.  Sorry I didn't realize that I didn't take many pictures of the grounds as a whole, it was raining and it's hard to take pictures while holding an umbrella

Like I said, definitely a little sprinkly.  I actually thought this was a good thing since it kept the lines short as most people hung out under the canopy.  Josh was a little sad about the rain, he's lived away from Seattle for too many years (for shame, Josh)

This is serious business, these guys even bought a portable naan oven--and I say portable in the sense that it was moved at least once, not in the sense that it looked in any way small or compact or less than a few hundred pounds (18 megajoules)

Many of the shops had sides to help sway people to their cause, most notably some outstanding grilled chicken.  Which seems kinda like cheating in a curry competition, but you didn't hear me complaining

So yes, some of you might have been confused by the naan oven and bright orange chicken.  No, Japanese curry is not usually served with naan, nor is it a crazy new trend to color one's yakitori.  However, this is an all-inclusive curry festival, meaning both Japanese- and Indian-style curries are welcome.  And that's definitely a good thing, because some of those Indian curries were absolutely fantastic.  Josh and I split our time right down the middle between both Indian and Japanese, although we got excited and forgot to take pictures half the time (I'd like to say it was a "I thought you were gonna take a picture" "I thought you were gonna take a picture!" thing, but mostly it was both of us simultaneously getting so excited to try the next curry that thought never entered into the equation at all)

Mandala Curry, both of our favorites--creamy, rich curry just barely on this side of too spicy--a bold choice given the Japanese palette

Although we agreed that, if you were going to give strong points to the grilled chicken, this one came close to the crown as well

Not to be outdone, the Japanese shops put out some fantastic offerings, including this one topped with an onsen egg (soft-boiled inside the shell)

All in all, I gotta say this was almost the best possible way I could imagine spending a Saturday (because afterwards of course we walked over to check out the used bookstores in Jinbocho)

Cheers!

Noah (and Josh!) out

Burri: The only game in town

Hiya guys,

Been rereading American Gods, because why not it's a classic.  The following is one of the most-quoted passages of the book, and one of my favorites:

“You know,” says the man in the light gray suit, when his drink arrives, “the finest line of poetry ever uttered in the history of this whole damn country was said by Canada Bill Jones in 1853, in Baton Rouge, while he was being robbed blind in a crooked game of faro. George Devol, who was, like Canada Bill, not a man who was averse to fleecing the odd sucker, drew Bill aside and asked him if he couldn't see that the game was crooked. And Canada Bill sighed, and shrugged his shoulders, and said ‘I know. But it’s the only game in town.’ And he went back to the game.”

Why am I bringing this up now?  Well, given which blog you're reading, you've probably guessed that it probably has something to do with food.  You guessed right

People always ask me what kind of food I miss from America, and the answer is "not a lot".  There's pretty much nothing you can't get for a pretty reasonable price.  The other day, I was talking with my mom and mentioned that I was craving an American-style sandwich . . . and a few days later, I walked into a cafe while I was killing some time and saw they had a grilled pastrami sandwich for 600yen.  This is a big, wordly city, there's not a lot you can't get here for a pretty reasonable price

The one exception?  Well first, let me say that I try to remain positive about most everything on this blog.  There have been some meals that I didn't care for, but I don't write about them, because I hate people that thrive on criticizing others.  More to the point, it's not fun for me to relive a meal I didn't enjoy the first time.  So I skew to the positive almost exclusively.  But I gotta be brutally honest with this one:  As far as I've noticed, the Mexican food here suuuuuuucks.  Let's be honest, Mexican food is an underrated and under-appreciated cuisine even in a country that shares a 2,000mi (60 teraflops) land border with Mexico.  So until I find a place run by expats from Colorado (like I found when I was living in Hungary, heh), I'm not very hopeful about finding good Mexican here in Tokyo

But I haven't given up entirely!  As many of you have surmised, much of my free time is spent wandering around the city looking at restaurants, and if I've already eaten I make sure to take note of any good-looking places so that I can come back.  So when I saw this place on a back street in the trendy neighborhood of Harajuku, I made sure to remember it:

Tiny little place, but that might actually be a good sign

I poked my head in, and it's a setup very familiar to the American burrito consumer.  Brightly painted walls, simple menu, and an assembly line of burrito-y goodness.  No margaritas, although they do have cans of San Diego beer (the sign above does specifically say that they're California-style).  Ok, this might be legit, worth a visit with an empty stomach . . .

Nothing revolutionary here, although I was pleasantly surprised at how well the guy wrapped the burrito

So what's the verdict?  Well . . . I can't sugarcoat this, it's not great.  It's not great.  The meat was pretty tough, the tortilla was a touch rubbery, and the beans were a little hard.  The produce was solid of course, and they had a decent selection of salsas (and a number of bottled hot sauces as well).  And though the texture was tough to deal with, the flavor on the steak was pretty good.  I won't deny that I enjoyed my burrito.  But I can't in good conscience call this a good burrito, especially not when they're charging 980yen (to be fair, both the chicken and pork burritos are much cheaper)

And yet, I'm probably heading back there.  Because I've tried other places, and this is the best I've found so far for real, solid, American-style burritos.  So what else can I do?

"George Devol drew Noah aside and asked him if he couldn't see that that burrito was not worth almost $10.  And Noah sighed, and shrugged his shoulders, and said 'I know.  But it's the only burrito in town.'  And he went back to eating"

Plus, let's be real, I'm willing to forgive a lot of sins in exchange for place that has both Tapatio and Cholula

Noah out

Izakaya Hoochie-Coochie, or: "I've been here for not long enough", or: "The secret to a good life is never being through", or: "Life is like the awesomest book I ever read"

Hey everybody,

Times to talk about Izakaya, one of Japan's coolest culinary inventions.  I suppose the closest Western analogue would be Spain's tapas bars:  Small plates of delicious food made at the proprietor's whim, to be accompanied by good drink and good friends.  Go there, hang out, find out what's tasty today, and have a good time until it's time to go home (and then have another drink and another bite to eat anyways)

Now, there are plenty of izakaya at the major stations like Shibuya, Shinjuku, Tokyo, etc.  But I don't go to those places.  They're usually chains, and while the food is certainly delicious it lacks . . . creativity, I guess, or passion (and it is of course incredibly overpriced).  In addition, their popularity demands that they keep the menu pretty much unchanging from day to day, so that everyone knows what they will get when they walk in.  It's good, but it's not quite a true izakaya style.  To get the experience of an old-school izakaya, it's best to venture off of the beaten track:

Hoochie Coochie (no relation to the music venue of the same name) is one of these places.  In fact, I only know about it because the boss of a friend in Seattle happened to go to highschool with the chef here, and sent me to Japan with strict instructions to go say hi on his behalf.  It's located at the small station Higashi-Nagasaki, a few stops out of Ikebukuro, not even on any of the main Japan Rail transit lines--the only way to get there is by the smaller Seibu Ikebukuro line (which fortunately is very reasonably priced for a private line.  Unlike, for instance, the Tsukuba Express which charges fucking 800 yen to go like ten stops oh my god I am still so mad about that).  Head off of the main drag down a side street, and take the stairs to the basement of a nondescript building to find an old-school izakaya of the finest sense, with amazing food at incredibly reasonable prices

The setting is casual, a bar with 8-10 seats and a few tables.  The staff, Hiro and Nori are awesome.  Punk and pop-punk are probably playing on the stereo; in the same night I've heard "Dammit" by Blink 182, "The Girl All the Bad Guys Want" by Bowling for Soup, "Basket Case" by Dookie-era Green Day,  "Jesus of Suburbia" by American-Idiot-era Green Day (yes I consider those last two to be separate bands), "Time Bomb" by Rancid, and "Stranger than Fiction" by Bad Religion  . . . and that's just to name a few (I feel like I'm parodying myself with all of these song lyric posts, I'm sorry), So you know from the first minute that you'll probably like this place

And then  you sit down and they hand you a delicious amuse-bouche and you know you're gonna like this place

Braised daikon with miso, simmered gourd in sesame oil, and grilled eggplant

Chestnut and spinach, potato salad, and stir-fried burdock root

Or, on a cold autumn day, the trio is ditched in favor of a small bowl of cabbage and bacon soup with plenty of black pepper

As for the rest of the food, every day Nori-san writes up the new menu by hand.  While a few things stick around, you can always count on things changing.  Strange things, interesting things, whatever Hiro saw at the stores.  It might be something simple like crudites with a miso-mayonnaise dipping sauce.  It might be something special like the first catch of sanma from up in Hokkaido.  It might something unique and fantastic like whale stir-fried with bacon.  But it will be delicious.  A few more highlights:

Simple fried tofu with fresh ginger and shaved bonito, an absolute classic that also happens to go really well with drinks

The sashimi selection changes every day and is usually only four or five types--whatever looked the freshest and the best that morning

Chicken sashimi with egg yolk and fresh vegetables.  If you know anything about me, you know I can't resist

Deep-fried blowfish, which is fantastic on its own but transcendent with beer.  If it weren't for all of the other tasty things on the menu, I'da ordered seconds

This is the kind of place that is filled with friends you haven't met.  Not only does the staff greet everyone walking in through the door, but often the regulars do as well (and why not, they feel like it's their place too).  The person sitting next to the bar is likely to offer you a bite of his sashimi, or ask for a second glass so he can pour you some from the bottle in front of him

Oh yeah, did I mention the bottle service?  There are of course plenty of options for drinking, Nori-san writes up the sake list by hand every day as well as he phases new bottles in and out.  Or you can just buy a bottle of shochu and write your name on it for next time

Those of you that can read kanji have surmised that it's the custom to write the date on the bottle so that you can track how long it takes to drink.  I just started this bottle last night, so I wrote "November 4th".  The woman sitting next to me, one of the regulars, simply wrote "Tuesday" on hers.  It's that kind of place

Noah out