Yuki kuni (NoahandLexiinTokyo)

Hi everybody,

Momentous occasion for me, but I got to see my first snow here in Tokyo!

Not a blizzard, certainly not compared to whatever's going on in the East Coast back in the States, but not messing around either

My friend Lexi and I had already planned to hit Harajuku and Meiji Shrine that day, and so I asked her if she was still down to go if there was snow.  She's a trooper, and she said it would be no problem.  Thus, Noah and Lexi (after getting some pretty fantastic gyoza) made our way to Meiji Jingu just in time to get some fantastic pictures of the snow

Our side trip to get lunch first allowed the snow to turn into a light rain, so the landscape had a few splashes of color rather than a pure greyscale

Lexi, undaunted by the weather and with a smile on her face!

I didn't let it slide too often for much of this trip, but I told Lex it was ok to go in to see the shrine without the traditional purifying wash of the hands.  I did wash mine, however, and it was so cold I almost wish I hadn't.  Ok not really, but seriously my hands hurt from the cold for a half an hour after that

I've said it before, I'll say it again.  Everybody gets presents of sake and other such treats for their birthdays (I did, that's for sure!).  But you gotta be a real baller to continue getting sake birthday presents even after you're dead

No profound commentary or other observations to add.  Meiji Jingu is a wonderful place, a really delightful juxtaposition to the bustle of Tokyo life (especially considering that Harajuku, with its crazy fashion and blasting music, is just around the corner).  It speaks a lot to the Japanese spirit to have such a large park honoring Emperor Meiji--and it's important to note that though Emperor Meiji is responsible for bringing Japan into the modern era, the shrine in his honor is pure old Japan style.  Accepting and embracing the old while style respecting and revering the past, that's pretty much a summary of Japan for the last century and a half

And it doesn't hurt that said park provides for some pretty wonderful photo ops

Noah

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

AMERICA DAY

Hey everybody,

Now I'm not in any danger of homesickness, not particularly.  There are certainly people, and places and things as well, that I miss, but I'm loving being here in Tokyo.  However, when I came up with a plan to have myself a mini little America Day, how can I pass it up?

(fair disclaimer, this is actually a photo that Alix took in Harajuku from my last trip to Japan.  But I thought it appropriate.  'MURICA)

So, what does one do for America Day?  Duh . . . crash the mall (yes I know she's actually Canadian, deal with it).  See, out here in the suburbs (yes, even though I'm surrounded by skyscrapers Kawaguchi still counts as the suburbs), where land it a little cheaper, they actually have American-style malls.  Big parking garages, chain stores, fluorescent lighting, food court, the works.  Like I said, I'm not especially homesick, but if I were this would cure it

Of all the things they could have adopted from America, they chose malls?  Ahh well

See what I mean?  Hard to even remember I'm in Tokyo and not Tukwila

There's even an L.L. Bean.  Yup.  America

Wait, is that???  Whoa.  Not just going back to America, but going back to America ten-fifteen years ago

OH MY GOD KITTY.  Sorry, what were we talking about?  I got distracted

Even the little things are there, like the banks of candy by bulk (including grapefruit slices, gummi cola bottles, gummi sharks . . .) from which you can take samples when the attendant isn't looking

But I had more planned for America Day than just a trip to the mall.  After all, what self-respecting American mall is complete without a movie theater??  So we come to the cornerstone of America Day, a good ol' fashioned American action movie

A bunch of misfits and losers stumbling their way towards saving the day?  Yup, AMERICA DAY

So yeah, first time to a Japanese movie theater, a fun experience!  Gonna be honest, it's pretty much the same as an American theater (though you do purchase an assigned seat, which is an interesting twist).  The movie selection is a reasonable spread of Japanese gangster or samurai movies with a few dramatic/romantic movies trying to win Academy Prizes, plus usually an American action film or two (next one to hit will be Planet of the Apes, followed by The Expendables 3)

The seats are comfy and recline reasonably, although the armrests don't pull up (but at 1800 yen per ticket it's not like I'm taking a date to the movies any time soon).  Even the concessions are the same!  Which is a good thing, because it's just not the same experience without popcorn and Coke.  Oh god I'm a corporate shill . . .

Oh, and the prices are better on the food--650 yen gets you a nice-sized drink and popcorn combo

And they give you trays that fit into the armrests to make a mini table!  I admit that that's pretty damn clever

Oh, by the way, American movie theaters pay attention:  Japanese movie theaters have a gift shop.  So you can buy merch from whatever movies are showing at the time.  How have American theaters not though of this yet???

Guardians of the Galaxy bobbleheads.  For sale at the theater.  Genius

Anyways, hanging out at the mall and watching an American action flick accomplished, so what to do for dinner?  On America Day, there are a few options, but for me nothing but a good hamburger will do.  Fortunately, while planning this day I'd already spotted a very good-looking burger cafe across the street from the mall!  And really, when you can get a solid bacon cheeseburger for only 850 yen, why would you not go check that out?

Oh yeah, the fact that all the produce in Japan is amazing doesn't hurt . . .

 And finally, it wouldn't be a proper America Day without dessert.  And since I felt a little bad for not going to an American chain for my burger (ok not that bad, that burger was much better), I thought I'd head back to the food court for my old favorite . . . good ol' Baskin and Robbins

American classics like the Jamoca Almond Fudge . . . next to the less-common flavors like Matcha

I opted on the Pumpkin Pudding, gotta go with the Flavor of The Month--it's like an invitation

There we have it.  Because it's important, evey once in a while, to remember from whence you have come.  Happy America Day, everyone!

Noah out

Life in Shinjuku Station: My thoughts must be relaxed to be able to maintain

Hi all,

Let's talk about Shinjuku Station.  36 platforms, a dozen lines, countless cafes and a few full-on department stores.  A small city unto itself

Photo courtesy of wikimedia, go donate!!

The Guinness Book of World Records (which, by the way, was originally founded in order to be of use in bar bets--this is awesome) gives it the title of busiest transit center in the world, clocking it at 3.64 million people passing through every day.  And really, those were 2007 numbers, so by my adjustment we're looking at more like 3.85 these days

So hey, let's be clear that this is the entire population of the world in the year 1400*.  All of Medieval Europe, plus the Ming Dynasty in China and a still-strong Caliphate in the Middle East--passing through Shinjuku Station seven days a week, three hundred sixty-five days per year.  Enough people to act out every drama from the entire world's ancient mythology put together, joined instead for the simple task of trying to get to work
*(ok that was kind of an unfair date to pick because the Black Death killed like a hundred million people in the 14th century.  Not to mention widespread famine, disease, and Mongols in China for most of that century and the previous one.  And widespread Mongols in the Caliphate.  Or, in summary, widespread famine, widespread disease, and widespread Mongols kind of everywhere for a good 200 years.  Apparently that was just a really bad two centuries for us.  But you get my point)

What does this mean?  It means full trains emptying out onto full platforms, crowding down full staircases and through full hallways:

It looks like this unceasingly for a few hours each morning and night during the rush hours

It means millions of people brushing shoulders, it means billions of fleeting interactions.  What does that mean for these people?

I feel very fortunate to be able to look at this from a slight distance, as a bit of an anthropologist.  Come to think of it, I guess that's a lot of what this entire blog is about (the rest, of course, is food).  Maybe that will change once I begin working full-time, but since there's no way I'm going the full-on salaryman route, I don't think I'll ever truly be a part of the rush hour crush.  I certainly am not bred to it like many of these Tokyoites

(You merely adopted the rush hour.  I was born in it, molded by it.  I didn't get personal space until I was already a man; by then, it was nothing to me but agoraphobia)

Perhaps the most Japanese thing I ever see is this:  A man, pressed as tight as people can press, one of literally a hundred people shoved into a single train car, closes his eyes and relaxes.  He sways back and forth with the movement of the train, no need to brace himself because there is literally not enough room for anyone to stumble.  His physical body doesn't even have clearly defined boundaries, the entire car condensed into a single organic entity.  And so instead he devotes all of his energies to creating psychic personal space by sheer force of will.  That person, who I see in dozens of men and women every time I end up in rush hour in Tokyo, is to me the epitome of what it means to live in Tokyo

And yet, from all that, I still have to believe that there is a part of this that brings people together instead of just training them to put up mental walls.  Teaches people to work together with respect and discipline.  Maybe I'm being idealistic, but I like to think that Shinjuku Station creates the kinds of teamwork that allow a tiny island to accomplish things in great disproportion to its size.  Those billions of tiny interactions with people you'll probably never see again (at least not knowing), they gotta mean something, yeah?




Today, I ended up walking down a stairway next to another guy, who happened to be wearing a Wu-Tang shirt.  I nudged him in the shoulder, and casually threw up the W at about waist-height.  "Wu-Tang?" he offered.  "Forever," I replied.  He turned right to go to his train, I turned left towards mine.  A second later, once we were more than a meter apart, we'd each blended back into the faceless mass.  That's how it is in Shinjuku

Noah out

Pachinko, the game Tokyo deserves

Hi guys,

So, I've never been terribly tempted to gamble* on pachinko.  Don't get me wrong, the idea has attraction.  While it's a touch hyperbolic to say that one can "never truly understand Tokyo" without understanding pachinko, there is a touch of truth to that as well.  The hypnotic fall of the steel balls has mesmerized many, many Tokyoites.  Just the parlors themselves fascinate me, since I genuinely adore things that are loud or neon--I take naps inside the MRI machine, I use overstimulation (tv + video game + music + chat with friends) as a form or relaxation.  So the pachinko parlors, with their near-blinding neon and fluorescent lights coupled with the near-deafening roar of the falling balls are a delight

Pachinko machines are often described as "vertical pinball machines", which is I suppose not a terrible description.  You put a bill or two into a machine at the end of each aisle, and it spits out a tray of small (~2mm, or 8.5 furlongs, diameter) steel balls.  You then go and dump these balls into your carefully selected machine ("An idiot can win on the right machine, but even a master cannot win on the wrong one") and it immediately begins spitting them out rapid-fire towards the top of the row of steel pins, targets, and as many flashing lights as the designers could fit in.  Hit the right targets, stop the slots at the right time, trigger all the events, and you're rewarded with a cascade of more silver balls.  Which, presumably, you just dump right back into the machine

I'm not the only one to find pachinko relaxing.  In fact, I don't think that quality is in any way rare in the city.  Others have waxed philosophically about what this says about the nature of the city and the people in it, but I don't have any philosophy to add--because I agree with them.  I suppose that, when I discovered that the easiest way to stop worrying and de-stress was to confront myself with as many different forms of sensory overload as possible, I was simply re-inventing something Tokyoites have known for years

You don't have to watch the whole vid, although I think it's a great little piece, but I did include it so that you could see a few pachinko machines in action

But, regardless, I have yet to be grasped by those particular neon claws.  Part of it is simply the finances--I learned long ago that you never go to a casino with the presumption you might win.  Casino gambling means being willing to spend some time slowly losing money but having fun doing it.  Money which I don't currently have to spare (plus the only time I tried, a few years ago when I was living here for a month, I lost $20 in as many minutes.  That's not a sustainable rate)

All in all, the temptation was never that great . . . until I started seeing these signs at parlors all over town

Yup, that's right.  Batman-themed pachinko

Oh Tokyo.  You know all of my weaknesses

So here we are.  If this is the beginning of a downward spiral of depravity that ends in sin and misery in the House of the Land of the Rising Sun . . . well, like everything else both good and evil in this world, you can blame Batman

Noah out

*Gambling is technically illegal in Japan.  The trays full of metal balls you get can, however, be exchanged for prizes like candy, toys, cigs, electronics, even household goods (presumably to be able to bring back home to the missus).  Of course, you can always instead ask to be paid in "genkin" in which case they give you a receipt saying how many balls you had . . . which you can then take to a barred window up three flights of stairs behind an unmarked door at the back of an alley two blocks away from the pachinko parlor . . . where you just might find someone willing to trade a few bills for that receipt.  But you didn't hear it from me ;)

"What is that beautiful house?"

Hi everyone,

One of the most wonderful things about moving to a foreign country is the opportunity truly not to know what's going on.  While this certainly happens occasionally Stateside (I am not . . .), the language difference means that not only do I not know what's going on but I really have no easy way of finding out.  While my Japanese skills are somewhat conversational, my reading is terrible and it's not just possible but likely that I am just completely unable to understand all of the very nice explanatory signs

And that's ok.  In fact, it's more than ok, it's fantastic.  There is so much in the world, and 99.999% of it is things that we have never seen before.  Don't fight it the mystery, enjoy it.  I found this temple in the middle of Akasaka, not two blocks away from the main drag of restaurants and bars, half a mile (8.3gigaliters) away from a major highway

I hope that I never lose my appreciation for the luxury of being able to say "I wonder where that stairway goes" . . .

At the top of the staircase was a stunning temple, pleasantly uncrowded on a weekday afternoon.  As I've said before, I will never tire of Tokyo's capacity to tuck these pockets of beauty into the middle of one of the most densely populated cities in the world

Chinese influences, I imagine

Oh, is that a monkey god?  Awesome.  Chinese influences indeed

This statue in particular made me smile.  The image of mother and child, crossing cultural boundaries.  And species boundaries as well, I suppose

I threw in some money, rang the gong, bowed my head, and expressed my full appreciation for their allowing me to enjoy the temple.  Good day to be in Tokyo

Noah out

"I watched / the patchwork farms . . ."

Alternate title:  Noah used Fly!  Noah got away safely!

Hey guys,

I have arrived safely in Tokyo.  Flight was no problem, I go into travel mode pretty easily and can just zone out and read/movie/music/all-three-at-once

Here's a picture of me just before leaving, with the entirety of my wordly possessions packed into four bags.  Photo cred by the way goes to my lovely mother, who I expect to be a frequent commenter on this blog! (although for some reason, she always posts using the pseudonym "Irene Tanabe".  I don't know why she doesn't just use her real name, "Mom").  As someone who managed to hang out juuust this side of compulsive hoarder, putting all of my things into storage and just taking those four bags was very difficult but also kinda fun--a perverse sense of excitement, the thrill of the forbidden

Items in my possession not in picture:  One(1) camera, one(1) camera case

As I said above, flight was no problem.  I even got an exit row aisle seat, for free!  Legroom for daaaays, that was amazing.  Of course, upon arrival I had to navigate bus and train with all of those bags, and since it was like 6pm that was . . . awkward.  I felt really bad taking up like a square meter of space on a rush-hour train.  But hey, gaijin here, clearly I don't know better

The only hard part of the entire trip?  Lugging my entire bodyweight worth of stuff (yes, I brought my castiron skillet, no I don't regret that in the least.  I love that pan) the mile from the train station to the hostel.  Not gonna lie, my arms are still sore from that

But anyways, here I am, safe and sound in Tokyo.  Had a great night last night, and I'm ready to attack the day today!  By which I mean I'm gonna go get some breakfast

Later!

Noah out