Food and culture
Trip logs are not complete without mentioning the food, of course! I’ve been treated to some fabulous gustatory delights during my stay in Japan.
Sushi fest!
My colleague has a favorite sushi joint where he knows the owner. It’s a tiny little place tucked away on a side street of Kyoto; foreigners are not likely to get there without a native.
As we entered, a mixed party of Japanese and Westerners, young and old, were departing. The owner told us they were from Kyodai (a contraction for Kyoto Daigaku, or Kyoto University). The young, hip-looking Japanese woman was a new professor of architecture at the university, and the older European man was a visiting professor of civil engineering from Spain. Accompanying them were two students, one Asian and one European. They were talking about designing and building bridges.
We settled in at the sushi bar, which allows about 12 people max, among small groups of business men. The owner wiped down the ledge in front of us where the food is served—they just put it right on the counter—and laid out fresh sashimi. Red snapper, glistening maguro, and hamo, a local Kyoto fish with ruffled flesh (it is served cooked). Apparently the hamo season has just begun, so the fish is still a bit young. It is best in June, then goes out of season in September.
Then we munched on abalone (cooked over a fire in the shell), anago (sea eel), and hotate (scallop). I had never had abalone—my main contact with it was in the form of the abalone soup that is common at Asian breakfasts. I never feel like eating it in the morning, so I haven’t tried it. It is a little rubbery when cooked, and doesn’t have much flavor. My colleague told me that you can also eat it raw, but it is very tough and almost crunchy; he didn’t recommend it, actually.
We moved on to sushi, sampling ebi (shrimp) and ika (squid). And also temaki (handrolls) of uni (sea urchin) and maguro. Finally, we finished off with toro soup (fatty tuna—richer and higher-grade than maguro). Accompanying it all was beer and hot sake. I was stuffed, but not in a heavy way; this kind of food is so light that you can fill up and not pay for it all night.
This is what I come to Japan for!
More Japanese!
On a different night, we went to a small family-owned restaurant, again with bar seating for no more than 15 or so. Here we tried a variety of dishes, all of which were fabulous. Here are just a few of them:
Take-no-ko. These are baby bamboo shoots, cut from the ground as they emerge at the base of a big bamboo. They are very tender when cooked, like young asparagus, and apparently this is the season for them. (Note that ko means “child,” so these are bamboo children).
Tempura. Not just any tempura, but an interesting kind made from flounder. The fish was cut away from the skin and batter-fried, while the skin and bones were deep fried into a potato-chip-like consistency. Flounder bones are thin and light, so this “flounder chip” can be eaten as-is. It is served with salt, and you just break off potato-chip-sized pieces, dip them in the salt, and eat them. Probably a great source of calcium!
Bonito. It is bonito season! This is a small red fish that tastes a bit like tuna. It served with the outside seared like tuna is sometimes done in the United States. It might be mackerel, I’m not sure. Anyway, bonito is also the fish used to make dashi, the broth in miso soup.
Good stuff.
India in Japan?
Coming from the Bay Area, I am well accustomed to seeing Indian people everywhere. But in my two most recent trips to Asia, I have noticed increasing numbers of Indians in other countries too. In Korea last month, I saw a large party emerging from the Samsung building at lunchtime—in other words, they were regular employees. And within 10 minutes’ walking distance from my hotel in Tokyo, there were three Indian restaurants. We went to one with one of my Indian colleagues.
The chef was Indian, and the menu was filled with both north and south Indian delights, including naan, tandoori, tika, palak paneer, saag, chana masala, biryani, daal, and raita. We tried a variety of items, and all were quite authentic-tasting (according to the expert at our table). They were even quite hot, which surprised me given that most Japanese I have met do not like spicy food (with the exception of wasabi, which certainly isn’t spicy in the hot-chili sense of the word, Japanese food is quite mild). Luckily, the waiter was quick with the water jug, and the draft beer from Sapporo helped too.
Later I found out that there is now an Indian restaurant in Kyoto also. It turned out to be very useful that we could go to an Indian restaurant because several of my colleagues are vegetarian, which can be a difficult prospect in many parts of Asia. (Japan in particular—there seem to be few “standard” dishes that are meat- and fish-free. Of course there is vegetable tempura and tofu, but almost everything else has fish, including miso soup and many noodle dishes).
Starbucks
Yes, there are many Starbucks in Asia now. I needed to use up some change in the Kansai Airport, so I stopped for a frappucino. I was intrigued to see an unfamiliar flavor among all the standard ones: “rhumba.” This means rum, so I tried it. Indeed, it had a hint of rum flavor, as well as some little rum candies in it, and it came with whipped cream and a squirt of chocolate sauce. Somewhat more logically than in the US, the sizes of drink are “short,” “tall,” and “grande.”
Lunch box surprise
We had a meeting at a big company that treated us to a fancy “box lunch” on the top floor of their headquarters (excellent view of Kyoto and the surrounding mountains!). Box lunches in Japan are not cheap deals. This one was a stately-looking lacquered box with about 8 compartments filled with little delights. Bonito, seared miso cod, tempura, omelet cube, steamed vegetables, a Chinese bun, etc. But what caught my attention was the rice.
It was sprinkled with something fuchsia-colored that had a tart, slightly fruity taste. Like infused vinegar, but in the form of a dry seasoning.
I asked my colleague about it later, and he told me it is called shiso. It is a preservative that is used to make maeboshi -- fermented plums –- and it comes from a flower. (If you’ve had these plums, you know they are bright red, not a natural plum color. The tint comes from the shiso). The substance originated from times before refrigeration, when fermenting was a good way to protect against spoilage in the hot, damp summer months. Then someone figured out that shiso is also good sprinkled on rice. I agreed!
Sushi fest!
My colleague has a favorite sushi joint where he knows the owner. It’s a tiny little place tucked away on a side street of Kyoto; foreigners are not likely to get there without a native.
As we entered, a mixed party of Japanese and Westerners, young and old, were departing. The owner told us they were from Kyodai (a contraction for Kyoto Daigaku, or Kyoto University). The young, hip-looking Japanese woman was a new professor of architecture at the university, and the older European man was a visiting professor of civil engineering from Spain. Accompanying them were two students, one Asian and one European. They were talking about designing and building bridges.
We settled in at the sushi bar, which allows about 12 people max, among small groups of business men. The owner wiped down the ledge in front of us where the food is served—they just put it right on the counter—and laid out fresh sashimi. Red snapper, glistening maguro, and hamo, a local Kyoto fish with ruffled flesh (it is served cooked). Apparently the hamo season has just begun, so the fish is still a bit young. It is best in June, then goes out of season in September.
Then we munched on abalone (cooked over a fire in the shell), anago (sea eel), and hotate (scallop). I had never had abalone—my main contact with it was in the form of the abalone soup that is common at Asian breakfasts. I never feel like eating it in the morning, so I haven’t tried it. It is a little rubbery when cooked, and doesn’t have much flavor. My colleague told me that you can also eat it raw, but it is very tough and almost crunchy; he didn’t recommend it, actually.
We moved on to sushi, sampling ebi (shrimp) and ika (squid). And also temaki (handrolls) of uni (sea urchin) and maguro. Finally, we finished off with toro soup (fatty tuna—richer and higher-grade than maguro). Accompanying it all was beer and hot sake. I was stuffed, but not in a heavy way; this kind of food is so light that you can fill up and not pay for it all night.
This is what I come to Japan for!
More Japanese!
On a different night, we went to a small family-owned restaurant, again with bar seating for no more than 15 or so. Here we tried a variety of dishes, all of which were fabulous. Here are just a few of them:
Take-no-ko. These are baby bamboo shoots, cut from the ground as they emerge at the base of a big bamboo. They are very tender when cooked, like young asparagus, and apparently this is the season for them. (Note that ko means “child,” so these are bamboo children).
Tempura. Not just any tempura, but an interesting kind made from flounder. The fish was cut away from the skin and batter-fried, while the skin and bones were deep fried into a potato-chip-like consistency. Flounder bones are thin and light, so this “flounder chip” can be eaten as-is. It is served with salt, and you just break off potato-chip-sized pieces, dip them in the salt, and eat them. Probably a great source of calcium!
Bonito. It is bonito season! This is a small red fish that tastes a bit like tuna. It served with the outside seared like tuna is sometimes done in the United States. It might be mackerel, I’m not sure. Anyway, bonito is also the fish used to make dashi, the broth in miso soup.
Good stuff.
India in Japan?
Coming from the Bay Area, I am well accustomed to seeing Indian people everywhere. But in my two most recent trips to Asia, I have noticed increasing numbers of Indians in other countries too. In Korea last month, I saw a large party emerging from the Samsung building at lunchtime—in other words, they were regular employees. And within 10 minutes’ walking distance from my hotel in Tokyo, there were three Indian restaurants. We went to one with one of my Indian colleagues.
The chef was Indian, and the menu was filled with both north and south Indian delights, including naan, tandoori, tika, palak paneer, saag, chana masala, biryani, daal, and raita. We tried a variety of items, and all were quite authentic-tasting (according to the expert at our table). They were even quite hot, which surprised me given that most Japanese I have met do not like spicy food (with the exception of wasabi, which certainly isn’t spicy in the hot-chili sense of the word, Japanese food is quite mild). Luckily, the waiter was quick with the water jug, and the draft beer from Sapporo helped too.
Later I found out that there is now an Indian restaurant in Kyoto also. It turned out to be very useful that we could go to an Indian restaurant because several of my colleagues are vegetarian, which can be a difficult prospect in many parts of Asia. (Japan in particular—there seem to be few “standard” dishes that are meat- and fish-free. Of course there is vegetable tempura and tofu, but almost everything else has fish, including miso soup and many noodle dishes).
Starbucks
Yes, there are many Starbucks in Asia now. I needed to use up some change in the Kansai Airport, so I stopped for a frappucino. I was intrigued to see an unfamiliar flavor among all the standard ones: “rhumba.” This means rum, so I tried it. Indeed, it had a hint of rum flavor, as well as some little rum candies in it, and it came with whipped cream and a squirt of chocolate sauce. Somewhat more logically than in the US, the sizes of drink are “short,” “tall,” and “grande.”
Lunch box surprise
We had a meeting at a big company that treated us to a fancy “box lunch” on the top floor of their headquarters (excellent view of Kyoto and the surrounding mountains!). Box lunches in Japan are not cheap deals. This one was a stately-looking lacquered box with about 8 compartments filled with little delights. Bonito, seared miso cod, tempura, omelet cube, steamed vegetables, a Chinese bun, etc. But what caught my attention was the rice.
It was sprinkled with something fuchsia-colored that had a tart, slightly fruity taste. Like infused vinegar, but in the form of a dry seasoning.
I asked my colleague about it later, and he told me it is called shiso. It is a preservative that is used to make maeboshi -- fermented plums –- and it comes from a flower. (If you’ve had these plums, you know they are bright red, not a natural plum color. The tint comes from the shiso). The substance originated from times before refrigeration, when fermenting was a good way to protect against spoilage in the hot, damp summer months. Then someone figured out that shiso is also good sprinkled on rice. I agreed!
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home