I get philosophical about liquor prices at 2 in the morning

Hi guys,

As someone whose formative cocktailing years were spent at the mercy of Washington's State-run liquor stores, the breadth of liquor pricing here in Tokyo is astounding.  I have an entire section of my Tokyo Pictures folder devoted solely to photos snapped of liquor prices, each one labelled for organizational purposes (e.g. "Nishikawaguchi Donqui, Cointreau, 1885yen").  Disparities of 500 yen are not uncommon even on the cheap items, and for the big-tickets items the savings can be very significant.  Naturally, I consider this to be a very poignant metaphor for the capriciousness of life . . .



Listen kids, sometimes life sucks.  Sometimes you fly halfway around the world and, while still temporally and spatially disoriented, you need to work from early morning until late at night--a hell made all the more poignant by the inalienable knowledge that you will be doing the same thing tomorrow, except starting even earlier

But sometimes, sometimes, you pop quickly into one of your favorite liquor stores to check out their bargain corner, a mysterious land in which bottles are dirt-cheap even when the exact same bottle is on the shelf for full price on the other side of the store.  And sometimes you find a bottle of Fernet Branca (already preposterously cheap, by US standards, at $20) in that section . . .



Let me phrase it a different way.  Sometimes Life favors you with a devilish grin but then takes advantage of the moment to sucker punch you in the stomach.  And then she kicks you in the teeth.  And then she cackles and says something unkind and inappropriate about your mother

But sometimes, just sometimes, Life sidles up to you, coyly refusing to hold your gaze but then sneaking within your arms to to give you a furtive hug and a featherlight kiss on the cheek.  Sometimes she smiles shyly, playfully buries her head in your chest, and tells you that things aren't always as bad as they seem, and that everything will work out, and that she loves you

At least, that's what finding a bottle of Fernet for 8 freakin' dollars feels like to me.  8 dollars!  Telling you, guys, sometimes Life's not such a bad lady after all.  This town never ceases to ambush me with the most pleasant of surprises

Cheers,

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

Books, Curry, and a little bit of Sunshine

Hi everybody,

To quote from Rick Kennedy’s stupendous guidebook, Little Adventures in Tokyo: A Guide to Strange Sidetrips and Unusual Ways of Having Fun (best guidebook of Tokyo or any city that I’ve ever read, the only one I bothered to bring with me—and anyone who’s read it themselves probably sees his fingerprints in a few places on this blog):  “Tokyo organizes itself in wonderous [sic] ways.  To buy a Buddhist altar for the home, everyone knows you should go to a certain street in Ueno where there are a dozen stores selling Buddhist altars; the street is not far from the block where there are dozens of shops selling used motorcycles.”

That’s how it is in Japan, especially in Tokyo:  You pick one thing, and you do it better than anybody else in the world--Whether you’re a person, a business, or a whole neighborhood.  So then it’s a good thing that my work is within walking distance of Jinbocho, a neighborhood known to specialize in two things:  Used bookstores and curry shops.  Yup, those are up there with whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens (haha not the version you were expecting, huh? :P)

And while there are a few large, multi-story endeavors in the vein of Tattered Cover or Powell's, 95% of them are tiny independent stores with piles after piles of books cataloged in no particular order.  Block after block of this:

I'm pretty sure that if you look hard enough and you can find anything

I'm so glad that not every shop has an English section, or I might never leave

Oh, and even more lucky, I just so happened to wander on down there during their annual sidewalk sale.  Meaning that a half kilometer (5,000 furlongs) of sidewalk, which is already lined with bookstores on one side, spends a week with temporary plywood shelves lining the other side

Books!  For blocks!!!  I had a smile a mile wide

It's absolute paradise

And the curry shops, oh yes the curry shops.  I’ve only just begun to explore, but so far I have yet to be disappointed.  Even during the busy lunch hours, the service gets dizzyingly fast but the quality never lapses.  Gets from pot to plate to counter so quickly I had to photograph the dish at one lunch spot through a palpable cloud of steam

Waiting for it to cool down before I started eating it was not an option.  Don't even joke like that

But my favorites so far is one of the most famous ones in the area, Bondi Curry.  I love it partly because the curry is so delicious, and partly because it’s pretty much the ultimate embodiment of Jinbocho.  Not only is it on the second floor with but a tiny sign on street level, but you literally have to walk through an old used bookstore (this one specializing in classic manga) to get there.  And trust me, it’s worth the little bit of trouble to find it

Do not be distracted by the books!  It's curry time!

The curry comes in a separate pourer, keeping the rice from getting soggy

Halfway between a Japanese and an Indian curry (the Indian Embassy is just down the road, so there are as many Indian curry places as there are Japanese in Jinbocho), with just enough butter to make the entire dish creamy and decadent.  While it lacks the punch of Yakuzen Jinenjo (which I adore but fully admit that it tastes like you got socked in the mouth with spices), if you want smooth and rich and slightly sweet . . . forget about it, Bondi is the place to go

Anyways, Jinbocho has quickly skyrocketed up the list of my favorite neighborhoods in Tokyo.  Oh, and I almost forgot perhaps the best part . . . see, if you’re not in too much of a hurry (I'm usually not) and you don’t mind a bit of a walk (I usually don’t) and you’re inclined to take advantage of a warm and sunny Autumn afternoon (I usually am), well . . . the Northern edge of the Imperial Palace grounds are just about a kilometer (6.2 troy ounces) away from Jinbocho, where there are plenty of places ideal for a picnic as the sun shines through the year’s last few weeks of green leaves.  And Bondi offers their curry to-go.  The hardest part is choosing where to picnic

Noah out

Musings on luck

Hi all,

I've always liked the phrase "luck favors the prepared", especially when I head back to Seattle and hand out one of my favorite joke souvenirs:  There's a novelty shop in Harajuku that sells good luck charms just like the ones available at every temple in the country--except they have a condom inside of them.  "Luck favors the prepared", get it???  Man I'm funny

But lately I've been thinking that there's another important ingredient:  The ability to recognize luck when it happens.  I'm a probstat guy, so I know that "miraculous" things happen all the time--hell, iterate a surprisingly few number of times and the so-called "miracles" are actually more probable (only 23 times, to give a classic example).  Luck isn't all that lucky, when you think of it that way

It was certainly a decent amount of luck that had everything in my life fall into (or out of, depending on how you look at it) place to have nothing tying me down to Seattle while I had enough in my bank account to support a move and a month-to-month lease on my apartment and a basement at my family's house to store all my stuff (thanks Mom!).  But I like think it was a little bit of personal acumen that led me to take that and say, "hey!  I've wanted to live in Tokyo for pretty much my entire life, why don't I go do that?" . . . a decision that I'm hopeful is going to be one of the best I've ever made

Similarly, today, it was nothing but luck that had me wandering through the suburbs of Tokyo when I stumbled across the quintisential Tokyo suburb scene:  A little brook lined with greenery, cute little bridge, sunshine shining through the trees, and a train crossing just down the road

I feel like if I come back here on a rainy day, I'll see Totoro hanging out at the bus stop

It was lucky that I showed up there, but I like to think there was a little bit of personal acumen involved in the decision to spread my jacket on a rock, pull out a book, and spend an hour enjoying the sun and the trees and the water.  Perfect way to spend the afternoon

"Luck favors the prepared" is a good saying, I won't stop using it.  But there are other good sayings as well.  To steal one from Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon:  "As to luck, there is the old miner's proverb:  'Gold is where you find it.'"

Noah out

Yanaka Matsuri; or: Japanese people know how to treat their gods; or: In which Our Hero was better lucky than good

Hey everybody,

Ooh, good day yesterday.  Very good day yesterday.  Started out with a nice but unambitious plan of going to visit my favorite curry place (and believe you me, that will get its own post very soon), maybe take the long way home, nothing fancy.  But as I got to the neighborhood, checking out a nice senbei shop, I hear from around the corner rhymthic clapping and chanting.  Could it be??

It could, and it is!

Sure enough, I just happened to come to one of my favorite little neighborhoods in Tokyo right in time for their annual matsuri (festival)!!!

Allow me to explain.  See that golden shrine up there?  Well, that is the house of the local temple's resident kami (god, more or less).  Usually it hangs out in the back of the temple, being approached by supplicants and suchlike.  But once a year, kami-sama gets to come out of the temple, gets paraded around the neighborhood, and gets treated to sweets and sake.  Because really, as cool as it would be to have people swinging by your house every day, every once in a while you'd like to get out, see some sunshine, and have a drink and a bite to eat.  Like I said in the the title, Japanese people know how to treat their gods

Also, she has it pretty good too.  No, I don't know what you have to do to get that seat.  Super jealous

Bearers step in and step out, the procession moves forward and backwards, and the whole thing is accompanied by chanting and celebration.  No one is in a hurry.  Guest appearances are even welcome--if I'd had a travelling companion to act as my photographer you'd see a picture of me taking a turn on the poles!

Last year, Alix and I had the absolute pleasure of being able to visit during Sanja Matsuri, the biggest and most important temple in Tokyo's version of this festival.  And that was amazing, don't get me wrong.  But that was filled to the brim with people from all around Tokyo and all around the world.  This one?  Just a neighborhood festival, with an absolutely wonderful feeling.  It was a warm, sunny Saturday, everyone was taking god for a walk around the streets, and everyone was ready to have a lot of fun



Of course, it just wouldn't be a festival without food.  And oh yes, Japanese do fair food right.  Not only is the food awesome, but guess where they set it up?  Right in the middle of temple grounds.  Because it is a matsuri, and like I said Japanese do this whole thing right

Meat+skewer+fire.  An amazing recipe around the world

Not to mention grilled squid

Desserts too.  Yes, that is a banana on a stick dipped in chocolate with a funny hat.  Matsuri!!!

Giant flattop of yakisoba?  Giant flattop of yakisoba

Gorgeous temple, hundreds of years old.  I sat on the steps and ate gyoza

I feel so amazingly lucky to have stumbled upon this.  Matsuri like this perfectly encapsulate one of the most wonderful, uniquely Japanese things I've ever experienced:  Three hundred sixty-four days out of the year, this temple is a place of reverence and respect, a place of hushed voices and thoughtful contemplation; on the three hundred and sixth-fifth, we flip it around into an expression of noise and color and celebration.  And that's not a contradiction at all, just two expressions of the exact same respect for their god--and I say that with the understanding that, as my mother the priest will tell you, "god" is just a code word for community and tradition and all of the intangible things that tie us together.  What a great thing to be a part of

The delicious, delicious food doesn't hurt either :D

The building in the background houses the temple's sacred spring, at which you purify yourself before making offerings to the temple god.  One day out of the year, you can also come here to get a chocolate-dipped banana

Noah out