A Fish Out of Water

7 Things to do During Golden Week

(This is article also appears at Sunnypages. Hope it comes in handy to those of you in Tokyo, and for those of you who are wondering what on earth "Golden Week" is, Nihon Sun has a good explanation.)

Golden Week is almost upon us, and if you're in Tokyo for the holidays and haven't made plans yet the time to do so is now. Stuck for ideas? We've got a bunch, so read on and start planning!

Take a Walk

Join the osampo boom! If you've been to a bookstore in Japan lately you've probably noticed that osampo guides are enjoying a surge in popularity. Osampo means “to take a walk”, and although there have always been osampo guidebooks on the shelves, they used to be only for standard tourist destinations and were mostly written for the senior set.

The current crop of guidebooks are aimed at a younger crowd and explore lesser-known areas of Tokyo as well the usual touristy places. They come with fully planned routes, including suggestions for refreshments along the way, maps, and everything else you need to explore a new area. Many of them have specialized themes, like exploring gourmet neighborhoods or shitamachi (“low town” areas like Asakusa and Kanda) neighborhoods with an old-fashioned atmosphere. Other books focus on topics like nature, dog-friendly areas, history, temples and shrines.

If you can read Japanese or have a Japanese-literate walking partner then you're set. If not, head to your favorite foreign language bookstore and pick up a classic English-language book like Day Walks Near Tokyo, Little Adventures in Tokyo or Hiking in Japan, or the newer A Flower Lover's Guide to Tokyo. For online information, it's hard to beat Tokyo Tourism Info's 53 Ways to Explore Tokyo on Foot.

Go Where the Wild Things Are

If you've dismissed zoos in Japan after a depressing visit to Ueno Zoo, it's time to try again: there are actually quite a few good zoos in Japan, including a few right here in Kanto.

Tama Zoo Park in western Tokyo is a huge place featuring all the usual animals in relatively large enclosures that let you get up close; the popular Lion Bus lets you get even closer, as does the beautiful butterfly conservatory. Tobu Zoo Park is popular for its two white tigers and its penguin exhibit, which lets visitors see the birds on land and underwater. Zoorasia is considered one of the best zoos in Japan, with well-treated animals given plenty of space and natural looking habitats. Zoorasia is celebrating its 10th anniversary with free entrance on April 24th and a commemorative pin given to visitors between April 24th and 30th. Fuji Kachoen is a paradise for bird and flower lovers, with a fantastic array colorful blooms and a good number of owls and other wild birds, some of whom are put to work doing shows or playing with visitors.

Tokyo and its suburbs are also blessed with a number of very good aquariums, with Enoshima Aquarium, Tokyo Sea Life Park and Shinagawa Aquarium three of the best. If you prefer the more sedentary kind of wildlife, try one of Tokyo's botanical gardens. Yumenoshima is a large greenhouse with a unique heating system: it's built over a landfill and its tropical plants are kept warm with heat from the garbage incinerator next door. Jindai Shokubutsu Botanical Park also features a greenhouse, but the main attractions are outdoors. During Golden Week the large grounds will be home to azaleas and peonies in full bloom as well as a number of wildflowers.

Hunt and Gather

If zoos, aquariums and parks just aren't exciting enough for you (or if you find that the exhibits just make you hungry), it's time for a wildlife encounter of a different kind. The edible kind.

If you have a sweet tooth you'll be pleased to know that the Kanto area strawberry season lasts until May; some places to try are Nikura Noen in Tama, Tokyo (pick and take-home berries are 300 yen per 100 grams, the all-you-can-eat option ended in mid-April), Kawana Noen in Miura, Kanagawa (1500 yen all-you-can-eat in 30 minutes), Okiune Farm in Chichibu, Saitama (1500 yen all-you-can-eat in 30 minutes, take-home also available), and the ever-popular Mother Farm in Futtsu, Chiba (take-home 200 yen per 100 grams plus 200 yen admission).

Clam digging, called shio-higari in Japanese, is a popular spring activity in Japan, and believe it or not the shores of Tokyo Bay produce plenty of asari (short-neck clams). All you need to dig them up is a small rake to dig through the sand with, a bucket to hold your catch, some rubber boots if you don't want to go barefoot (the sand can be cold and muddy) and a good recipe for linguine con vongole. Shio-higari spots in Tokyo include Odaiba Kaihin Koen, Kasai Kaihin Koen, and Toritsu Jonanjima Kaihin Koen. Note that young clams (smaller than a 10 yen coin) must be released; some beaches may charge an entry fee or require clam diggers to pay for their catch.

For (slightly) more lively prey, fishermen don't have to go far, as Tokyo has a few catch-and-release koi (carp) fishing spots: Ichigaya Fish Center, which you've probably seen from Ichigaya Station on the Chuo line, costs 690 per hour for men and 590 for women and junior high school students (poles and bait included), and kids can try the goldfish tank for 400 yen per half hour. Suzukien is similar pond in Asagaya, costing 550 yen per hour including equipment. Seibuen Yuenchi's nijimasu (rainbow trout) pond is open until the end of Golden Week; 1500 yen entry plus 500 yen for pole rental and bait allows you to catch up to three trout (lure fishing also available for a higher fee) and they'll clean your fish for free.

Go to Market

For a kinder, gentler sort of hunting, search out bargains at one of Tokyo's many flea markets and antique fairs. There are too many to mention here, but we've narrowed down some highlights.

On April 29th Prism Hall in Tokyo Dome City hosts two large events: a regular flea market with 300 vendors and a special market run by and aimed at children. On May 2nd Shinjuku Chuo Koen hosts 200 vendors and on May 3rd a smaller market will be held in the same park; also on May 3rd is a flea market in Meiji Koen. May 3rd, 4th and 5th will see large flea markets near Akihabara station and at Shinagawa Intercity. Most flea markets start at 9:00 or 10:00am and run until mid-afternoon.

For antiques, The Japantique Show runs from April 30th to May 4th at the Tokyo Prince Hotel and the Heiwajima Antique Fair is from May 3rd to May 5th in Heiwajima. For kotto-ichi (antique fairs) try the Kawagoe Antique Market at Narita-san Temple in Kawagoe, Saitama on April 28th; the Kasai Jinja Antique Market on May 2nd at Kasai Shrine near Kanamachi Station; and on May 3rd the Arai Yakushi Antique Fair at Arai Yakushi Temple near Arai Yakushi-mae Station and the Yasukuni Jinja Antique Market at Yasukuni Shrine. For the best finds you'll need to wake up early: Kotto-ichi usually start at sun-up and run until early afternoon.

Get out of Town

It's tempting to take a trip outside the city during the holidays, but keep in mind nearly everyone in Tokyo feels the same, causing massive crowds. Don't even think about driving: Golden Week's notorious traffic jams will be even worse this year, thanks to those discounted highway tolls. If you must leave town take the train and make sure you have reserved seats: even normally comfortable trains like the Shinkansen and Odakyu Romance Car lose their charm when you have to stand for the whole trip, squished up against your fellow holiday-makers like a Tokyo subway at rush hour.

Good day trips from Tokyo include Kamakura, Mount Takao, Chichibu and the Okutama area; for places like Nikko, Hakone, and Izu it's better to spend a night or two. Golden Week is also an ideal time to catch a ferry to the Izu Shoto, Tokyo's string of islands. They enjoy a warmer climate than the mainland so you can enjoy summer-like weather without the crowds that descend in July and August. Oshima is the nearest and most developed, featuring onsens, a zoo and a volcano that can be hiked in a few hours; Niijima has beautiful beaches (still a bit cold for swimming or surfing without a wetsuit), hot springs and free camping. Getting further afield, the wild dolphin watching season off Mikurajima is already underway, and if you know how to snorkel you can swim alongside them. Hachijojima offers surfing, scuba diving, hiking and ruins left by Edo era exiles and WWII soldiers.

Catch a flick

The term "Golden Week" was invented by Japanese movie theaters in an attempt to attract moviegoers on the national holidays that fall at the end of April and beginning of May. The name stuck, so well that today few people remember the origin of the holiday's name. But it's still as good a time as any to see a movie.

Once small, dingy and uncomfortable, most of Tokyo's movie theaters have improved in the past decade. Many feature large screens, much-improved sound quality, comfortable seating, and conveniences like pre-reserved seats. Certain theatres like Warner MyCal Cinemas and Toho Cinemas let you buy tickets and reserve seats online (credit card required) at no extra cost, and even those who buy tickets at the theatre get to choose their seats. If the 1800 yen cost of a movie ticket is keeping you away, remember that almost all theatres offer discount days, and some, including Movie Day on the first of each month and Ladies Day on Wednesdays, both with 1000 yen tickets, will fall during Golden Week.

If you'd rather stay home, consider joining Discas, Tsutaya's Netflix-like service that delivers rental DVDs to your home. A number of plans are available but the basic plan gets you 8 DVDs each month for 1974 yen. They come two at a time with all delivery and returns covered, and if 8 movies per month are not enough you can rent extra DVDs at prices comparable to your neighborhood rental shop. Discas is currently offering a one month free trial, so now is a great time to try it out. The catch? It's all in Japanese, so if you can't read you'll need some help.

Amuse Yourself

Although summer is considered amusement park season in Japan, Golden Week is a great time to visit one of Tokyo's many theme parks and amusement parks. All the same rides and attractions are open (with the exception of water parks) but you'll enjoy crowds much lighter than at peak summer season.

Toshimaen has a new roller coaster called Mini Cyclone, a kiddie version of their popular Cyclone coaster; kids will also enjoy the special Golden Week stage shows by favorite characters like Ultraman and Doraemon. Seibuen Yuenchi features mini golf, trout fishing (as mentioned above) and performances for the kids featuring popular characters like Hello Kitty, Anpanman and Yattaman. Fuji-Q Highland celebrates Golden Week with Asian Fuji-Q, a collection of yatai (food stalls) serving food from around Asia; Thomas the Tank Engine fans can meet Sir Topham Hat, who will pay a visit to the park's Thomas Land during the holidays. Sanrio PuroLand will host Sugar Bunnies Experience World, where kids can try their hands at cooking classes, accessory-making workshops, a dress-up photo studio and more. Or explore the darker side of Hello Kitty with Hello Kitty Black Wonder, an interactive role-playing attraction in which visitors must rescue a captive Hello Kitty and her friend Dear Daniel. Black Wonder opens April 25th for the first time in Japan after enjoying immense popularity in Hong Kong, and with the success of the associated fashion lines you can expect Sanrio Puroland's gift shops to be full of gothic-inspired Hello Kitty goods.

Yomiuri Land goes international with Sekai no Yatai Mura, a collection of food stalls offering 30 dishes from 20 different countries. Even better, each of the six weekend and holiday days that fall during Golden Week will feature one country or area, with people from the featured region getting free entry for themselves and up to four friends, (a passport, alien card or other type of proof is necessary). April 29th is England Day, May 2nd is Okinawa Day, May 3rd is America Day, May 4th is Mekong Delta Countries Day (Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, Burma/Myanmar and Laos), May 5th is Brazil Day, and May 6th is Turkey Day. Those who aren't lucky enough to be from one of the featured countries still get to enjoy special entertainment and attractions from the regions, such as a bagpipe performance on England Day and belly dancing on Turkey Day.

Whatever you end up doing, we hope you have a wonderful Golden Week!

Shinjuku Gyoen

You didn't think I was finished with cherry blossoms yet, did you?

These pictures were taken at Shinjuku Gyoen, the best park in the city. It's a place I'm becoming more familiar with recently, thanks to a new class I'm teaching. As an extension of English Adventure's seasonal camps, the new Nature Club brings kids together twice a month to study nature in the outdoors, and Shinjuku Gyoen is where we do it. It may seem an odd place to study nature with its manicured lawns and well-maintained Japanese and European style gardens, but the park is blessed with some surprisingly wild areas. It's not quite the same as the amazing forest and seaside venues of English Adventure's regular camps, but given its convenient location there's no better venue for the Nature Club.

These pictures don't have much to do with the club, since we mostly stay away from the formal garden areas (but many of the pictures from my previous wildflower post were taken in the wilder areas of Shinjuku Gyoen where we study). But I'm at the park often now to scout for the lessons or to have a picnic afterward, so I get to see the photogenic areas as well.

These were taken over a few days in mid-April, a time when most of the cherry trees in the city had dropped their petals. Shinjuku Gyoen has such a wide variety of sakura that there were dozens of them still in bloom though, and there was a good number of people out enjoying some hanami (flower viewing).

 

After my first class my husband joined me for a picnic. I had been far too nervous and busy that morning to prepare a proper lunch so left it all up to him, and the grub above is what he came up with: several types of onigiri, a tray of greasy sausages, fried chicken, french fries and potato croquettes, a package of crunchy curry-flavoured snack things, and string cheese. Green tea to drink and a can of beer (discretely wrapped in a bag, as the park is alcohol-free) and for dessert, a package of Koala no March (koala-shaped cookies filled with chocolate). All classic convenience store food, and definitely not what I would have picked, but that's what happens when men do the shopping.

Among the many types of cherry trees in the park are a few of these rare green ones, which have a different kind of beauty from the usual pink varieties. There were plenty of other pretty and interesting plants, like the hime tsubaki camelia below, and it's going to take me many, many visits until I'm familiar with them all.

English Adventure is having a family picnic this Sunday (April 26th), so if you're curious about the Nature Club or other events this is a great chance to find out more; check here for more information. It's free and everyone is invited, and I'll be there. Hopefully with a lunch that was made by me rather than picked up at the combini.

See more pictures in my Shinjuku Gyoen album.

Slow times at a love hotel

This month's Japan Blog Matsuri (an event at which Japan-related bloggers post about a given theme) is Slow Times in Japan, a follow up to last month's Fast Times in Japan. I've been meaning to enter one of these blog carnivals for a while now but have never been able to find either the time or an experience to match the theme. But when I read about this carnival I knew just what I was going to enter: an old, old post about a visit to a love hotel. Which might seem like it would be better suited to the Fast Times in Japan Matsuri, except that this was a very special kind of love hotel.

So here's my post: Loveless Love Hotel. If you like it, please click the link at the bottom of the post and follow it to JapanSoc, where you can show your appreciation. And then check out the other entries at What Japan Thinks. I especially liked this post about a near-deserted Sensoji Temple at night and this one about a "relaxing" weekend hike in Oku-Izumo (I can't help but admire people whose idea of "slow times" is climbing a mountain).

Spring dinner

Now that spring is here the markets are overflowing with spring vegetables, and although the sight of them should cheer me it usually makes me feel rather guilty. They all look so fresh and pretty, and I know they are tasty, but many of them require a lot of preparation. Bamboo shoots need hours of work, butterbur requires 10 fiddly steps, and everything else needs soaking, parboiling, or other fussy preparation. So I tend to hurry by those edible heralds of spring and head straight for the year-round, fuss-free vegetables.

But when I've got a little extra time to cook dinner I can be easily seduced, and when these greens called out to me, I answered. On the left is kogomi (fiddleheads) and on the right are some rather ratty-looking gyouja-ninniku, which I've never noticed before but looked a lot like ramps. Neither were particularly cheap, but at 130 yen for the kogomi and 300 yen for the gyouja-ninniku (reduced in price because they were a bit old) they weren't prohibitively expensive either. I'd never cooked with either, but I do know that kogomi is one of the few haru no sansai (wild spring vegetables) that don't require a soak in ashes or baking soda or other weird preparation, and as for the gyouja-ninniku, as a reader of food blogs I've been exposed to dozens of posts about ramps, and figured finding a recipe would be no problem. So into my shopping cart they went.

It turns out that kogomi are from the ostrich fern, Matteuccia struthiopteris, prized all over the world; recipes abounded in both English and Japanese and the preparation was as easy as I'd hoped. The gyouja-ninniku, however, turned out to be Allium victorialis var. platyphyllum, which are different from Allium tricoccum, or what are called ramps or wild leeks in North America. Thinner bulbs and leaves, and the stalks were purple on only the outer layer, which had to be removed. But otherwise they are quite similar, both popping up for a brief time in the spring and much loved by gourmets, and I decided to go with a western recipe rather than a Japanese one.

Dinner turned out to be a celebration of spring: new potatoes simmered with onions and dashi, fiddleheads sauteed with garlic, and spaghettini with ramps. The recipe for the potatoes is here, and I've just realized that new potatoes contradict what I said above about the difficulty of cooking spring vegetables: they are one of the easiest things in the world to cook, easier even than regular potatoes. So thank goodness for new potatoes.

The pasta was based on the recipe described in this Gourmet article, which is actually more of a description than a recipe. I didn't blister the whites because they seem much more delicate than the more bulbous ramp whites, and I added a pinch of red pepper flakes at the beginning and some of the pasta water at the end. The bread crumbs were panko that I'd toasted with olive oil, and the cheese was grana padano. And normally when I read a description like I've just given, of all the substitutions and changes someone has made to a recipe (the comments that go with Epicurious.com recipes are full of hilarious examples), I imagine the results were awful, but this was delicious.

The gyouja-ninniku didn't have any of the earthiness that ramps are said to have, and tasted like a mild version of nira (garlic chives). I'd like to try this again if I can find fresher examples, and am curious to see how they're prepared in Japan.

The fiddleheads were parboiled and sauteed in olive oil and butter with garlic and parsley, flavoured simply with salt and pepper. They were good and had a wonderful crunch, but tasted incredibly mild, with none of the bitterness I'd expected. I actually wish there was a little bitterness too them, or some earthiness or something (this has to be the first time I've wished a vegetable was more bitter). Obviously the parboiling had been unnecessary, so I'll try these again with a different preparation to see if I can get more flavour out of them.

So what do you do with spring vegetables?

Presents

Up until now I've mostly avoided blogging about gifts and souvenirs I've been given, thinking it a bit tacky or show-offy, but recently I've been in a grateful mood and wanted to share some of the bounty we've been lucky enough to receive.

A few weeks ago a very kind person, who read a confession of my love of red licorice on Facebook, sent me package of Twizzlers. It was totally unsolicited, out of the blue, and an act of kindness for which I'm extremely thankful.

The Japanese are not big on licorice, especially red licorice (with its day-glo colour, artificial "red" flavour and plastic texture, I can't imagine why), so it's almost impossible to find, and I find myself craving it more often than I'd like to admit. So this was a wonderful treat, and I'd like to say I savored it slowly, eating one piece (one twizzle?) per day, but that would be a lie: the entire package was gone within a few days. Shameful, yes, but it cured me of my cravings and I think I can last until my next visit home.

Here in Japan, such spontaneous presents are relatively rare. This is a gift-giving society, but the exchange of presents is usually done according to very specific rules and for very specific reasons. The present above was a return present, given to me by a student after I had given her a souvenir from somewhere. This gift kind of breaks the rules in that it was probably more valuable than the gift I'd given her (return presents are supposed to be about half the value of the original presents, although I think it can be more or less depending on the exact occasion).

This gift was a good example of the elaborate packaging used in Japan. I usually find all it rather wasteful, but I can't help but admire the beauty of this particular package.

Individually wrapped snacks also used to strike me as wasteful, until I discovered why it's done: Japan is very humid for much of the year, and any kind of packaged food goes soft and moldy if not eaten right away or wrapped individually.

These confections turned out to be choco-arare, or chocolate covered arare (puffed rice snacks, which are usually savory rather than sweet), in regular chocolate, matcha chocolate, white chocolate and strawberry chocolate. Choco-arare seem to be rather trendy now, but I'm afraid I wasn't crazy about these. If they were just spheres of chocolate lined with puffed rice I'd like them, but the deep-fried, sweet-soy sauce flavoured rice balls inside were too much. A shame, because I'm a big fan of sweet and salty combinations and I really wanted to like these (the way I like chocolate-covered pretzels or salted caramels).

Another sort of gift-giving is the exchange of souvenirs, which is done here a little differently than the way it is in the west. Back home a souvenir tends to be a meaningful memento of one's travels, bought either for oneself or one's close friends and family, while in Japan, omiyage (souvenirs) are only bought for others. Not that Japanese people don't shop for themselves while on vacation, it's just that those purchases are not called souvenirs.

Omiyage are almost always edible, and bought for nearly everyone: family, friends, coworkers, classmates, fellow club members, and anyone else who has been inconvenienced by (or even aware of) a traveller's absence. In the case of coworkers and classmates, individual souvenirs are not necessary, and most people buy a box of something to dole out.

The treats above were brought home from one of my group classes, where things have gotten a little bit out of control. From bottome left: sakura sembei (rice crackers flavoured with dried shrimp and preserved cherry leaves), mini sweet potato cakes (they had come wrapped in the green paper in the picture above), sakura daifuku (mochi stuffed with sakura flavoured sweet bean paste), and biwa (loquat) cake. The school owner already provides snacks and tea, and at least one student will bring something for each class. More often than not all four of them come armed with omiyage, and usually there are so many things to eat that we all end up bringing excess treats home, like the loot above.

Recently many of these omiyage are not actually from a trip (unless a trip to the nearest department store counts), and sometimes they're "recycled" omiyage from a student's family member or coworker (which is always fully disclosed and isn't considered bad manners). Of the snacks above only the sweet potato cakes and biwa cake were souviners, from Kawagoe and Chiba, respectively. Which were both day trips, just an hour or so from Tokyo. It must be a bit expensive for the students (I usually don't participate, bringing omiyage only if I've taken a real trip) but they all seem to look forward to exchanging and eating the snacks so it seems to be harmless fun. I  think a lot of offices and other work environments have a similarly constant flow of omiyage, but perhaps not to this extent.

One of my private students is a retired kindergarten teacher who travels the world, and she never fails to bring me back something. She came back from a recent trip to India with a package of Darjeeling tea and a silk scarf for me. Her generosity astounds me, as does her thoughtfulness: she really knows my taste, and this scarf is totally me.

She also knows that I am a novice tea drinker looking to expand my horizons a little, and I can't wait to try this stuff. I just have to finish up the tin of Earl Grey I'm slowly going through. And now that I think about it, after eight or so years of serving her Earl Grey (she's a tea lover herself) maybe this is a hint that she'd like a change too.

Hand-made gifts seem to be quite rare, and the two above are among the very few I've received. The are straps (meant to be hung from a cell phone or to decorate a bag or wallet) made of scrap cloth and acorn caps, and they were given to me by my landlady. We have a kind of non-stop present exchange going on that goes in cycles, usually starting out with an omiyage from somewhere and continuing with "payback" gifts back and forth, to the point that I no longer what the original omiyage that started this current cycle was. The gifts are usually not fancy: I've received a bouquet of wildflowers and home-made marmalade, and have given homemade jam and cookies and excess fruit from a box full I had received from someone else. This kind of present exchange can be a real burden to some, especially better-connected Japanese people who have a long list of people to give to. But I don't mind this set-up at all, as my landlady is the only person with whom I'm caught in an endless gift exchange with. In fact it's a great way to share when I have lots of stuff, and if it keeps our relationship healthy (especially important since she lives right next door to me), then it's a good thing.

I think this sort of casual back-and-forth of presents is much more common in rural areas or more established suburban neighborhoods (where people actually know and talk to their neighbors), with excess bounty from the garden or farm plot (or from gift boxes of apples or clementines like the one I mentioned above) frequently shared.

These grapes are going back in time a while. We received them early last autumn, and although I was a little too busy to blog about them I did keep the pictures. They are from Senbikiya, a luxury fruit store that's a favourite for expensive fruit gifts. Senbikiya is the kind of place that sells those two hundred dollar melons you've probably heard about, and although these grapes are not quite in that class of luxury they cost more than I'd ever consider spending on myself. Hideaki estimates that they were about 7000 yen (about $70 US).

They were delicious, of course--at that price they'd have to be. But I think most westerners, myself included, would prefer cheap Thompsons and concords from back home: although these were incredibly sweet and juicy, one of them had seeds and both had a very bitter, tough skin that needed to be peeled. And they couldn't be peeled by just popping them into your mouth like a concord, they had to be hand-peeled, a painstaking process that kind of took the fun out of eating them.

But they were beautiful and delicious and I'm glad we were lucky enough to try them.

It seems like people just can't stop giving us fish roe, and to that I say: bring it on. This is ikura no shoyuzuke (salmon roe cured in sauce) from Hokkaido, which is known for its seafood, including salmon. It was a special treat because we usually don't get to eat ikura except for the brief period in autumn when whole sacs of fresh roe are available and we can cure our own.

This ikura was made, along with thinly sliced shiso (perilla) into ikuradon (salmon roe atop rice). Ikuradon is at once a very simple food and the height of luxury, and we relished every bite of hours.

I don't think most of the people who were nice enough to give this gifts read this blog, but even so I'd like to say thank you. May your kindness be rewarded!

Neighborhood sakura (part two)

The sakura are now gone, or at least the somei yoshino (the most common type in Tokyo) are. It's always a little sad to see them go, but knowing that the cold weather is gone and summer is on its way is a nice condolence. And I did get some souvenirs to remember them by: hundreds and hundreds of pictures. Most aren't fit to show, but I'll share some of them here.

This is Oizumigakuen-dori, the road I use to get to Oizumigakuen station. For a few days a year, the cherry trees that line it come into bloom and take some of the attention away from the cars, electric wires, loud signs and ugly storefronts.

I'd almost say the street looks pretty this time of year.

The road abruptly ends just after crossing the border of Saitama, but a few blocks away are more cherry trees in Oizumichuo Koen, the park across the street from my house.

The park is dotted here and there with cherry trees, but most impressive (in a way I always fail to capture) are the trees that line the running track. The people who execise there really get a treat.

The park exits here, with a Jieitai (Japan Self Defence Force) base on the left a park called Wakojurin Koen on the right. Turning right at this intersection, this is what you see:

A cherry blossom tunnel. Not the same road as in this post (although that road is just a few minutes in the opposite direction), this street separates Oizumichuo Koen from Wakojurin Koen (and thus separates Tokyo, on the right, from Saitama, on the left).

Along the Tokyo/Oizumichuo Koen side is a section of lawn planted with shibazakura. Known as moss phlox or moss pink in English, the Japanese name means "lawn cherry", for its resemblance to cherry blossoms (you'd have to see it close up to really understand the name). I'm planning to visit a park known for its shibazakura this weekend, so stay tuned for more pictures.

Crossing the road and entering Wakojurin Koen brings more cherry trees, and more people enjoying them.

There are people picnicking,

taking pictures,

enjoying the view,

and napping. It's hardly surprising to see public nappers, as napping is Japan's national hobby. These three gentlemen seem especially good at it.

And now, before I bore you into a nap of your own, here are the rest of the pictures without comment.

Don't forget to look down

Sakura (cherry blossoms) command our attention when they are in bloom, and with good reason: they are stunning. The delicate flowers look beautiful close up, viewed from afar they blanket the landscape in fluffy pale pink masses of loveliness, and they are gorgeous when they drop from their branches petal by petal and float through the air. But as pretty as they are, it's a shame that sakura hog all the attention, because a whole host of wildflowers come into bloom at the same time. And although none of them may have the magic of cherry blossoms, each is beautiful in its own way.

So the next time you're out admiring the cherry blossoms, don't forget to look down. Here are some of the flowers you might see.

花大根 (ハナダイコン, hana daikon)
Orychophragmus violaceus
No common English name

Also known as 紫花菜 (ムラサキハナナ, murasaki hana-na), 諸葛菜 (ショカッサイ, shokassai) and other names, this is a very common flower throughout Japan, often seen along roads or train tracks. I imagine that the view of the flowers, even as nothing more than a purple blur rushing by, has brightened many a commuter's day.

蛇苺 (ヘビイチゴ, hebi-ichigo)
Duchesnea chrysantha
False strawberry, Indian strawberry, mock strawberry

As its names imply, hebi-ichigo is a strawberry impersonator, and a very convincing one. Its yellow flowers (the colour is a tip-off, as true strawberry flowers have white or pale pink petals) can be seen in the spring and the summer, with the centres eventually turning into a small red berry that looks delicious. The fruit is perfectly safe to eat, but there isn't much reason to do so as it is virtually flavourless.

烏野豌豆 (カラスノエンドウ, karasu no endou)
Vicia sativa
Common vetch

One of the prettiest weeds you'll find, karasu no endou (literally "crow's pea) looks like a miniature sweet pea. Although considered by many to be a weed, it a useful plant, grown for horse and cattle fodder. It is also edible by humans, widely consumed in ancient times and still eaten here in Japan, where the wild shoots and young seed pods are gathered and eaten as sansai (wild vegetable), most often sauteed or fried as tempura (both shown here).

花韮 (ハナニラ, hananira)
Ipheion uniflorum
Spring starflower

This pretty little flower is native to South America but naturalized in Japan. The stem and leaves give off a strong nira (garlic chive) smell when crushed, hence the name hananira (literally "garlic chive flower").

Unidentified fiddleheads

I know next to nothing about ferns so have no idea what these are (I do know that they are not warabi or zenmai, two of the edible types of ferns prized in Japan). A little bit of research online has shown that ferns are notoriously difficult to identify, so I may never find out what these are unless a kind and knowledgeable reader can help out. It also seems that "fiddlehead" is more of a culinary term, while scientists use the word "crozier" or "young frond". I think.

踊り子草 (オドリコソウ, odoriko-sou)
Lamium album var. barbatum
White dead nettle, bee nettle

I've noticed this plant for years, often confusing it with shiso (a culinary herb that can sometimes be found growing wild) due to their similar leaves. When seen in the spring, however, the flowers give it away as another species, which saves me from having to rub the leaves and be disappointed at the lack of shiso fragrance. But I've just found out that my disappointment has been unwarranted, as odoriko-sou is an edible plant. The shoots and young leaves are eaten as sansai, as are the flowers, which are most often prepared as tempura to preserve their pretty shape and sweet nectar. Odoriko-sou is also used in traditional medicine, both in Japan and its native Europe.

連銭草 (カキドウシ, kakidoushi)
Glechoma hederacea var. grandis
Ground ivy, catsfoot, creeping charlie

Kakidoushi is native to Europe, where it was once prized as a medicinal herb and an ingredient in beer (it added flavour and clarified cloudy brews in the days before hops were used). It has been naturalized in many parts of the world and is regarded in North America, despite the pretty little flowers, as an undesirable weed. It is still used in medicine in Japan (the plant is usually referred to as rensensou when used as a medicinal herb), most often as a tea used for reducing blood sugar and weight loss.

雪柳 (ユキヤナギ, yukiyanagi)
Spiraea thunbergii
Baby's breath spirea

Native to Japan and China, yukiyanagi can be found both as a wild plant and as a landscape shrub. The Japanese name literally means "snow willow", because of the snowy white flowers and the way the drooping branches resemble the weeping willow.

紫華鬘 (ムラサキケマン, murasaki-keman)
Corydalis incisa
No common English name

Murasaki-keman is named after the keman, a decoration found at Buddhist temples featuring intricate dangling chains that the flowers are thought to resemble (this makes a little more sense with kikeman, the yellow version).

山吹 (ヤマブキ, yamabuki)
Kerria japonica
Japanese yellow rose, kerria rose, yellow rose, Japanese kerria

Yamabuki is native to China and Japan but it's more likely, at least in Tokyo, to find it as an ornamental shrub. The Japanese name means "mountain spray", and the flower is much referred to in Japanese writing and art.

者莪 (シャガ, shaga)
Iris japonica
Fringed iris, Japanese iris

This small member of the iris family is rather unassuming, at least until you get up close and discover the delicate fringe and the pretty purple and yellow patterns on the petals. It originally came from China but has been naturalized in Japan, where it is found in shady areas, both as a cultivated and a wild plant.

常盤はぜ (トキワハゼ, tokiwahaze)
Mazus pumilus
Japanese mazus

These tiny little flowers can be seen from spring through to fall, and as lovely as they are they seem under-appreciated, as I can find very little information on them.

草苺 (くさいちご, kusa-ichigo), 野苺 (ノイチゴ, no-ichigo), 山苺 (ヤマイチゴ, yama-ichigo)
Rubus hirsutus
No common English name

This wild raspberry goes by a few different names, all of them misidentifying the fruit as a strawberry. Which is understandable as raspberries are called 木苺 (キイチゴ, ki-ichigo, literally "shrub strawberry"), but this unfortunately leads to a bit of confusion and the names seem to be used interchangeably for both wild strawberries and wild raspberries. But make no mistake, this flower will soon turn into a large reddish-orange raspberry that has a mild but delicious flavour and is as sought after by people as it is by birds and other animals.

芹葉飛燕草 (セリバヒエンソウ, seribahi-ensou)
Delphinium anthriscifolium
No common English name

This is another pretty flower with scanty information available. It was brought to Japan from China in the Meiji era (1868 to 1912) and I'll need to improve my Japanese if I want to know why.

繁縷 (ハコベ, hakobe)
Stellaria media
Common chickweed, winterweed

I tend not to notice these tiny flowers unless I'm already down on the ground looking at something else, but I'm always glad to see them as they're cute up close. Hakobe is one of the haru no nanakusa (seven herbs of spring), eaten after New Year's in okayu (rice porridge). (A bit off-topic, but I've just noticed that both the Japanese and English Wikipedia entries on nanakusa use my pictures. You'd think they could find something better.)

蔓日々草 (ツルニチニチソウ, tsuru-nichinichi-sou)
Vinca major
Large periwinkle, greater periwinkle, blue periwinkle

This pretty flower was introduced from Europe as an ornamental and is still most often seen in gardens, but it can occasionally be found growing in the wild.

丸葉菫 (マルバスミレ, maruba-sumire)
Viola keiskei
No common English name

One of the many varieties of sumire (violets) found in Japan.

立壷菫 (タチツボスミレ, tachitsubo-sumire)
Viola grypoceras A. Gray
No common English name

Another variety of violet, tachitsubo-sumire is one of the most common, and itself has a few variations (which my skills are not up to distinguishing).

大甘菜 (オオアマナ, oo-amana), オーニソガラム (oonisogaramu)
Ornithogalum umbellatum
Star-of-Bethleham, grass lilly, sleepydick

Native to Eurasia and northwest Africa, this plant has naturalized in much of Japan and is widely found in sunny fields. Considered in the west to be a medicinal herb and still used in holistic healing, it has edible bulbs that resemble garlic in appearance but not in smell or flavour. I'm guessing it's not very tasty as it's considered a famine food, only eaten when nothing else is available. The pretty flowers last just a few days and close up when night falls.　

春竜胆 (ハルリンドウ, haru-rindou)
Gentiana thunbergii
No common English name

This pretty blue flower can be found in sunny fields throughout most of Japan.

百合山葵 (ユリワサビ, yuri-wasabi)
Wasabia tenuis
No common English name

Yuri-wasabi is the wild version of wasabi, the plant grown for its spicy root which lends its flavour to sushi and other foods. Both wasabi and yuri-wasabi have edible leaves, with a similar wasabi-like flavour. The similarities end at ground level though, as yuri-wasabi has lilly-like bulbs (hence the Japanese name, which means "lilly wasabi") rather than the spicy rhizome of cultivated wasabi.

大犬の陰嚢 (オオイヌノフグリ, oo-inu-no-fuguri)
Veronica persica
Persian speedwell, birdeye speedwell, birds-eye

One of my favourite spring flowers and one of the earliest blooming, showing up as early as February. The name has long intrigued me, as it means "large dog's balls" (fuguri being a rather obscure word for testicles) yet looks nothing like any dog balls I've ever seen. Until today, when I saw a picture of the seed pod while researching this post, and what do you know? It really does look like dog balls (although I wouldn't exactly call them large). I'm greatly relieved to finally know where the name came from, as it means I can stop checking out dog's testicles. People were starting to talk.

二輪草 (ニリンソウ, nirin-sou)
Anemone flaccida
Soft windflower

The Japanese name means "two-flower grass", referring to the fact that most plants produce two flowers (although many, like the two below, produce just one and some produce three). "Soft windflower" is a literal translation of the Latin name and I'm not sure if this is the real common English name, as I only came across it on a few websites, all of them Japanese. There are very similar plants called ichirin-sou (one-flower grass) and sanrin-sou (three-flower grass), which as the names suggest produces one and three flowers respectively. So what makes me think that the two pictures below are of nirin-sou? It's just a guess, based on the other nirin-sou they were with as well as their bracts. I could be wrong though.

All pictures are mine, most taken this year in Tokyo with a few older pictures from Tokyo, Saitama and Kanagawa. I'm an amateur plant lover, so feel free to correct any mistakes I might have made.

Shakujii Koen

Last week Hideaki and I rode our bikes to Shakujii Koen, a park in Nerima ward that is said to be one of Tokyo's best. It's not too far away, but for some reason we haven't been since we moved nearby, and this was our first visit since I lived on the other side of the park, about 12 years ago. Because it's a little far out from central Tokyo it never gets really crowded, except maybe on the weekend when the cherry blossoms are at full bloom. This being a weekday and bit past the cherry blossoms' peak, we almost had the park to ourselves.

The park is divided into two sections, separated by a road. The west side is where we started, and this is where the people were at their fewest and the nature at its most abundant. I was surprised by the diversity of plant life, and while I didn't see as many birds as I'd expected (the park is well known for its waterfowl), we did get to see a pair of the parks famed kawasemi (kingfishers). There was, of course, no way I could get a picture of the shy birds, but hopefully the dozen or so ojiisan (grandfathers) with their giant lenses and professional looking cameras fared better. So here are some ducks instead, and without further comment, the rest of the pictures we took that day.

 

Shakujii Koen
03-3996-3950
1-26 Shakujiidai, Nerima-ku, Tokyo

To get there: a 10 minute walk south of Shakuji Koen station on the Seibu Ikebukuro line, or a 20 minute walk north of Kami Shakujii station on the Seibu Shinjuku line

Easter

I've been madly decorating eggs for the past few weeks to use for a couple of children's classes and an egg hunt with my niece. The psanky style eggs I tried didn't turn out very nicely, unfortunately, but here are a few of our regular eggs. All of the really nice ones were done by Hideaki, who turns out to be quite talented in the Easter egg decorating department.

On the weekend we visited my sister-in-law and her family for the egg hunt and more egg decorating. Mayra was so into the egg hunt that we kept re-hiding the eggs just so we could watch her find more of them. She would do this little running dance thing every time she found one, and it was extra cute when she needed to be picked up to reach an egg up high, with her little legs frantically running in the air.

Lunch was sushi, which was an Easter first for me. Delivery sushi is not always great, but this stuff was really good and we felt so lucky to have had so much good sushi recently.

Dessert was also a treat: my mother-in-law had sent our favourite cake from Osaka, from a patisserie called Madame Shinko. The place's specialty is baum brulee, a variation of baumkuchen (a layered German cake very popular in Japan) featuring a crisp layer of caramelized sugar on top. The top stayed remarkably crunchy considering the journey from Osaka, and I couldn't stop at the small piece shown below. There were also Easter cookies and plenty of chocolate Easter eggs too.

My niece Marya was a little less into the egg decorating than egg hunting, and ended up having more fun peeling the boiled eggs. But that's OK. The grown ups had plenty of fun decorating their own eggs (there were some great ones, I wish I took pictures). And maybe it was all the sugar from dessert, but she was extra sweet that day. She usually refuses to smile for the camera, preferring to make faces, but this time she let me snap away as she admired her loot. So here's a little sweetness for you to enjoy, too:

Megurogawa Hanami

Last week Emi (in the red jacket, below) and I got together for more hanami, this time along the Megurogawa River. Again it was yozakura (night cherry blossoms), since that's all our work schedules allowed, and although the blossoms were at their peak and would have looked lovely in the daytime, I thought they looked pretty nice at night too.

Marumasuya, or Hana Yori Dango

"Hana yori dango" is a phrase you'll hear a lot in Japan around hanami (cherry blossom viewing) season. Dango are sweet rice flour dumplings, a popular snack sold by vendors at festivals or packed into hanami bento (cherry blossom viewing lunchboxes), and the phrase literally translates as "dango before flowers". Which refers to the way some people are more interested in the snacks that accompany hanami than the blossoms themselves.

Normally the expression doesn't really apply to us, as we love the flowers as much as the food that goes with them. But this weekend we had an attack of hana yori dango: we were on our way to have a little hanami party for two, and during the one minute walk to the park we got a phone call inviting us out to dinner. And the picture above of the cherry tree-lined street that borders the park shows the extent of our hanami that day: knowing how long it would take me to get ready, we turned right around without even entering the park. No big deal, we knew the sakura would still be there the next day.

So at home we unpacked the quickie bento I'd put together earlier, and had a quick bite to tide us over until dinner, leaving the rest for the next day's breakfast. I had packed onigiri (rice balls) flavoured with homemade shirasu furikake (a savory rice topping made from baby sardines and sesame seeds): two consisted of rice stuffed with the furikake, and for the other two the rice was simply mixed with it, and all four wrapped with nori seaweed. On the side was kyuri no asazuke (quick-pickled cucumber), cut fruit, and hot green tea. Extremely basic for a hanami bento, but in the end it was just as well I hadn't gone to much effort because we had a giant dinner afterwards.

We ended up at a restaurant called Marumasuya in Akabane, a northern Tokyo neighborhood I'd never been to before. The area had a shitamachi (literally "low town", these are old neighborhoods in Tokyo populated by the common folk) feeling that I liked, and the streets around the station abounded with little bars marked with akachochin (red paper lanterns). When we got to the restaurant there was a line to get in, and I took it as a good sign when an old man waiting behind us started talking to me in Japanese, and a few minutes after he got in (having come alone he was seated quicker), another old man chatted me up. It's extremely rare for this to happen to me, as most people here seem convinced that Japanese is an impossible language for foreigners to learn, so for not one but two strangers to just start talking to me in their language, apparently just assuming I could understand them, was very cool.

From the outside Marumasuya looks like its been around forever (not necessarily in a bad way) and seems to be a local institution. Inside, the place was cramped, crowded and cozy, its walls plastered with hand-printed signs listing the menu items (like a lot of older places Marumasuya has no actual menu). It was packed with all sorts of people, most of whom were older and nearly all of whom appeared to be regulars. Or maybe it was just the friendly vibe of the place that made instant regulars out of everyone. The waitstaff acted more like mothers (or grandmothers, as a few appeared to be in their sixties or seventies) than waitresses, and there was a good deal of interaction between both them and the customers and between the customers themselves, or at least the customers at the counters. A good portion of the diners had come by themselves, but none of them were actually alone. It felt exactly like what a good old shitamachi restaurant should, and that's an atmosphere you just don't find in newer parts of Tokyo. Of course, since this is a nomiya (a drinking establishment) and everyone either had sake or beer in front of them, alcohol probably went far in encouraging the friendly feeling of the place.

According to the sign outside, the place specializes in unagi (freshwater eel), which I was excited about, and koi (carp), which was a bit less exciting. Koi is far more popular in ponds than on menus, and with good reason: it's not very good. Or rather, most people think it's not very good, but there is a small population of people who love it, and Marumasuya is happy to cater to those people. The classic koi dish is koi no arai, shown above, which is carp "sashimi" served with a vinegar miso sauce. It is not true sashimi as it's been boiled, which is probably done to render it safe to eat (freshwater fish has too many parasites to be safely eaten raw) and remove excess carp flavour.

I'd tried koi once before, but it was a very small dish of tiny slices dressed with miso. With a pleasantly chewy texture and no apparent flavour of its own, I liked it just fine but didn't add it to my list of favourite foods. This time around was a little different, with huge undressed slices of the fish that because of the firm texture had to be eaten whole. That really forced me to actually taste the fish, which tasted, at first, of nothing. And after the nothing came another flavour, which can be best described as "muddy". It pretty much tasted exactly what you'd expect a fish that lives in murky ponds to taste like.

I'd probably eat koi again, if I was starving to death and that was all I could catch, but I wouldn't prepare it like this. There are probably a dozen ways to cook koi that are better than sashimi (and to be fair Marumasuya did offer several of them, and I'm guessing that their deep-fried koi is not bad).

The next dish more than made up for the koi disappointment. It was kawahagi (filefish) sashimi, which is firm and delicate in flavour, often compared to fugu (blowfish, a far more expensive--and slightly dangerous--fish). We got the flesh from a whole fish, served on a shiso (perilla) leaf and pile of thinly sliced daikon and carrot that covered up what was left of the body, which was artfully arranged so that only the fins and tail (a surprisingly bright blue) were visible. Garnishes on the right are negi (long onion), momiji oroshi (daikon grated with hot pepper) and a sprig of shiso buds, and on the left is a paste made from the fish's liver. To eat it, you add the garnishes to a dish of soy sauce then lay out a piece of sashimi, smear a small dab of liver in the middle, roll up the fish and dip it in the soy sauce. I'm not big on organ meats, but there are a few types of liver that I like (namely ankimo and fois gras), and now I can add filefish liver to that list. This was fantastic, both the rich, sweet liver and the mild sashimi, and I can't believe I've never had it before.

Aside from koi and unagi, Marymasuya has a number of meibutsu (famous products). One of them is deep-fried fried garlic, which comes as a whole head with a dab of miso as a garnish. I had a first aid class the next day so I tried to avoid the garlic, knowing that garlic breath doesn't go well with the close contact involved in learning CPR and splinting techniques. But I just couldn't resist and ended up having a few bites. I was glad I did (probably much more glad than the other participants in the first aid class) because it was delicious. Similar to roasted garlic, but with a more assertive garlic flavour. It lacked a bit of the sweetness and deep flavour that roasting brings, but the miso seemed to make up for that, and I only wished I had a nice baguette to spread it on.

Next up were gesoten (deep fried squid tentacles, another meibutsu) and basashi (horse sashimi). The gesoten, which I didn't get a picture of, tied with the kawahagi as my favourite item of the evening, surprisingly tender and tasty with just enough bite to remind you it's squid. The basashi was also excellent. Horse is hardly consumed in North America, and although most people there feel horses should be ridden and not eaten, the simple fact is that it's a very tasty animal. It's very similar to beef, but sweeter, richer, and somehow cleaner tasting. This sashimi was a good example, and the heavy marbling seems to indicate that this particular horse was raised to be meat, which will hopefully be reassuring to horse fans (who apparently find it outrageous that some retired racehorses of North America end up shipped overseas to become someone's dinner).

The meal finished with unaju (eel grilled with a sweet soy sauce, served in a box of rice) with pickles and kimosui (eel liver in clear soup). This was a delicious and rare treat: unagi is rather expensive and we haven't had it (or at least good unagi in a restaurant) for a few years. The soup was surprisingly good too. I didn't like kimosui the first time I had it (like I said, I'm not crazy about offal), but this time it was mild and tasty. I guess that's a fourth type of liver I like.

This was one of the best meals we've had in a long time, and one that I was happy to give up hanami for. Hana yori dango, indeed.

Marumasuya (まるます屋)
03-3901-1405
1-17-7Akabane, Kita-ku, Tokyo
Open 9:00am to 9:30pm, closed Thursdays

Neighborhood sakura (and other flowers)

I'm really lucky to live in a area full of cherry blossoms. They're everywhere: lining the three kilometre long street that runs from Oizumigakuen station to my neighborhood (shown above, a few days before they were in full bloom),

overlooking the parking lot of the convenience store down the street,

in the garden of a large house nearby (I love the little katteguchi, a traditional service entrance far too small to fit through comfortably and only used for those not priviliged enough to use the driveway just one metre away),

on the other side of the intersection in front of our building (if only there were cherry trees on our side),

lining the street that runs from that intersection to Camp Asaka, a Jieitai (Self Defence Forces, Japan's defacto army) base,

right inside Camp Asaka (in fact, the best cherry blossoms of all are either inside or lining the base),

and at Wakojurin Koen, the park next to the base.

For now the flowers are staying on the trees, but there are a few fallen petals here and there, pretty reminders of the pink carpet we'll be seeing next week.

 

Cherry blossoms aren't the only flower out, of course. The petal below is from otometsubaki, a kind of camelia that blooms around the same time as sakura.

It's a lovely flower that unfortunately tends to get overlooked due to its timing and pale colour.

Yamabuki (kerria rose) is another flower that comes during sakura season, but it's very hard not to notice its blindingly bright colour.

And of course there's hakumokuren (yulan magnolia), which usually starts before the cherry blossoms but you'll often find them hanging on until mid April.

The cherry trees on the grounds of the fire station on the other side of the park were not yet at their peak when I passed by last week, but I had to take a picture of the firemen doing their training.

It makes me feel nice and safe having all these well-trained fire fighters nearby, not to mention a base full of soldiers (both will come in handy when the long predicted major earthquake hits Tokyo).

Oh yeah, and all those cherry trees aren't bad to have around either.

JapanSoc it!

Sushi lunch

A month ago I blogged about the 10,000 yen payout I got from my supermarket point card, and last week we finally spent it (half of it actually) on lunch at Kantarou-zushi, our favourite neighborhood sushi bar. That's it above, with all the signs-- so many that you can hardly see the restaurant itself. The place didn't used to be like this, and I really hoped it's not a sign that things aren't going well. Once we were inside and had our lunch in front of us I felt better, as it was as good as always.

This place unfortunately doesn't have lunch sets (many sushi shops do and they can be quite a good deal), so we each ordered a regular 2000 yen set. I'm not sure what it normally comes with-- we asked for any shellfish to be replaced with something else (neither my husband or I are big on raw shellfish), and what we got was, from top left, ikura (salmon roe), tobiko (flying fish roe), tamago-yaki (thick omelet), tekkamaki and kappamaki (tuna and cucumber rolls), chuutoro (tuna belly), tai (sea bream), ama-ebi (sweet shrimp), maguro (tuna), hamachi (yellowtail) and ika (squid).

It was all good, but my favourites were the chuutoro and tekkamaki. Which is strange, because while they are both made of tuna they are on opposite ends of the fanciness and price scale: chuutoro is a luxury while tekkamaki is one of the humblest types of sushi there is. Also strange because I'm not a tuna fanatic (and also tend to avoid it due to concerns about overfishing and mercury levels), but this place really does have excellent tuna and I couldn't help but love it, even the plain but excellent tekkamaki. Also humble but delicious was the soup, a freebie given because we're regulars (if a visit every year or so counts as regular). It was arajiru, clear soup made with fish scraps and topped with mitsuba, an aromatic herb, and fu (wheat gluten), but was amazing: it tasted like fish without being fishy in a way I'm never able to replicate at home.

Here's a close-up of the wonderfully marbled chuutoro. Beautiful, isn't it?

We were slightly disappointed that the set didn't come with any hikarimono (literally "shiny fish", this refers to silver-coloured fish like mackerel), since that's what this place does best. So we ordered a couple pieces of kohada (gizzard shad) to finish off the meal. It was perfect, with its gentle marinade in vinegar and kombu (kelp) lending it just the slightest boost of flavour and umami while removing all assertively fishy taste. This is sushi on a completely different level than when we normally eat at cheaper places, where the fish is either just raw or, in the case of hikarimono, dunked in vinegar. In fact, we kind of regretted getting the set and vowed to just order hikarimono (and maybe some of that lovely tuna) next time.

Lunch came to just under 5000 yen, so to get a nice round number we stopped off at Planetes, our neighborhood cake shop, to pick up dessert.

Their amazing cakes are beyond our budget but we were more than happy to make do with cookies: almond balls, a cinnamon almond cookie, and some kind of fat cookie seemingly consisting of 90% butter (I mean that in a good way).

The remaining 5000 yen will be spent wisely when we need it: it's been put in an envelope and hidden away, and if things ever get so bad that we can't afford to feed ourselves or pay a bill it will come in handy. Hopefully though things will get better and it will eventually be used for another sushi lunch.

Unseasonal cooking

Cooking according to the seasons is not only trendy at the moment, it's a good and noble thing for the home cook to aspire to. Using what you have on hand, however, is equally noble, and while eating through the stored food clogging up your kitchen may not be trendy, it's something that plenty of people are doing in these tough times. The two approaches to cooking often clash, and when expiry dates and limited shelf lives are taken into consideration, economy trumps seasonality.

This pumpkin has been my secret shame for the past five months. We bought two big ones for Halloween last year and only ended up having time to carve one, and once Halloween had passed and I eventually had time enough to carve it, it just felt silly. Who carves a jack-o-lantern in November? So it's been sitting my living room for months, being hidden in the bedroom or bathtub when students and other visitors came, the way you'd hide a porn stash when your mother visits.

I'm no expert, but I know a few things about winter squash. Like the fact that certain varieties, including pumpkins, will last for ages under the right conditions. And that those right conditions do not include a Japanese summer. And that some varieties of squash actually improve in flavour and nutrition under long term storage. And that carving pumpkins are definitely not one of those varieties (there's really nothing at all you can do to make it worth eating). So I knew I had to use the pumpkin before summer hit, and that I wouldn't be able to actually eat it.

So I remembered I'd seen a recipe for stew served in a roasted pumpkin I'd seen on Epicurious last year and thought it was a nifty idea. It seemed ideal for company, but a little bit scary: would the pumpkin really hold the stew without leaking? Would its retched flabby flavourlessness affect the stew inside? Could I actually fit a pumpkin inside my little oven? So this seemed like a good time to practice, just in case we ever actually have company over (unlikely given our far-flung location and the rarity of entertaining in the home in Japan, but a girl can dream).

The pumpkin turned out to be way too big for my oven, and even after cutting it in half I managed to burn the cut edge. I could have roasted the top of the pumpkin separately to act as a lid, but as this was just a practice run I didn't bother. So it doesn't look as cool as it's supposed to (check out the picture in the recipe linked above), but it turned out better than I thought. Amazingly there were no leaks, so the bowl under the pumpkin was completely unnecessary. And out of curiosity I cut off a piece of the pumpkin to see if the roasting had improved it, but nope. I might try it with a kabocha or other yummy squash next time, maybe for individual bowls that can be eaten once the insides are gone.

I didn't follow the Epicurious recipe for the stew inside--it seemed just a tad too complicated for a weekday meal--and instead filled the pumpkin with lamb stew. For extra frugal points I used frozen Costco lamb found in the back of my freezer, kabocha and carrots from the supermarket discount bin (ever-so-slightly past their peak but perfectly usable for stew) and some alarming potatoes found at the very bottom of the vegetable drawer. They had sprouted so many roots that I could barely see the potato, and I actually had to do a bit of googling to make sure they were safe, having heard that sprouted potatoes are poisonous (verdict: they're not, as long as you stick to the actual potatoes and remove the sprouted bits). Not only were they not poisonous, but they were the best potatoes I've ever cooked in a soup or stew. They absorbed a good amount of flavour and didn't fall apart as usual, retaining their shape even after several days of being stored and reheated as vegetables. I don't know if it's because the potatoes were so old, or if it was the hours of soaking I gave them (as they were a bit dry and wrinkly), or if the lamb had extra fat that the potatoes soaked up, or what, but all I know is that I'm never throwing away sprouted potatoes again.

The pumpkin seeds were roasted, with three that had sprouted (the only sign of the pumpkin's advanced age) started in a planter in hopes that they'll grow up into beautiful pumpkin vines that produce more pumpkins in the autumn. Not that I have any idea how to accomplish that on my balcony, but throwing out a sprouting seed just seemed wrong somehow.

Another find in the freezer was a turkey, one that never had a chance to be cooked during the busy Christmas season last year. (I'm starting to see a pattern here: maybe I should start checking my schedule before stocking up on holiday food and supplies.) It just barely fit in my oven, and even after covering the breast with tinfoil to protect it from the top of the oven (which is where the heat comes from on my stupid convection oven) there was a large black patch on top. So although it looks way less impressive carved up, that's the only picture I took.

Served with gravy, roasted vegetables, and sauteed rapini. It was every bit as delicious on a cold March day as it would have been at Christmas.

The carcass and leftover meat went straight back to the freezer, with half eventually made into turkey soup. The stock was made with the bones and a few month's worth of carrot, onion and celery scraps from the freezer, and the soup was a simple one with turkey, carrot, onion, celery and new potatoes, topped with grana padano cheese (this was to replace the parmesan cheese rind that I was sure was in the freezer but couldn't find, which would have made the soup taste amazing).

When I make soup I usually make a huge amount, and to prevent us from getting bored of the same soup for days I add to it a little each time it gets re-served. On the second day I add a can of tomatoes, which makes it so good I'd rather do it from the first day, but for the sake of variety I resist.

On the third day I add pasta, in this case alphabets (although I vastly prefer orzo). At this point the flavour is often getting thin and the meat and other ingredients are getting scarce, so I usually add fried and crumbled bacon along with cabbage, spinach or another quick-cooking vegetable. Here the soup still had enough stuff in it so I didn't bother, but I could have stretched it another day or two that way.

Halloween and Christmas don't really belong in March, but I'm glad I got to celebrate them again. And I'm enjoying the freezer space and not having to scramble to hide the pumpkin when someone comes over.

Chidorigafuchi

On Tuesday after work I met my friend Emi for a little hanami (cherry blossom viewing) in Chidorigafuchi. It was a little too early and the sakura were just starting to open, but that was actually part of my plan: Chidorigafuchi gets incredibly crowded when the blossoms are at their peak. In fact, this is one of the places that I warned not to go to in my recent Alternative Hanami article, but the fact is that Chidorigafuchi, along with most of the other famous hanami spots, is rather conveniently located and easy for a quick evening visit.

Chidorigafuchi is the general name given to a large area, but the place to see the sakura is Chidorigafuchi Ryokudo, a path that follows a section of the Imperial Palace moat. The place holds a Sakura Matsuri (Cherry Blossom Festival) from late March to early April, the highlight of which is the lights (low energy LED lights, as the organizers are quick to point out) that illuminate the blossoms at night. It's one of those places where you can't actually sit down with a group of friends under the blossoms and drink sake all day: the sakura can only be seen from a path while you walk by. It is quite strictly controlled, with the path divided into two "lanes", and a security guard or volunteer will nicely ask you to keep moving if you block the path while taking pictures or will direct you to the correct late if you walk on the wrong side of the path.

There are plenty of benches along the way, but those who choose to use the benches for picnics will be asked to pack up. Although I did see a few people discretely enjoying a clandestine bento and some sake on the benches, including a few couples consisting of young women in a gorgeous kimono or pretty dress with older suited men (probably high class hostesses and their customers out on a date before they headed off to their clubs for the night). Other interesting people included several kind folks who asked us, while we were posing together, if we wanted them to take our picture despite the fact that we had a tripod and were doing just fine by ourselves. And then there were the old men who took pictures of us as we took pictures of the cherry blossoms or each other; I still can't decide if that was cute or creepy. And let's not forget the two ladies in front of us as we passed the Indian Embassy. There appeared to be some kind of event going on and among the crowd seen through the glass were, not surprisingly, plenty of Indian people. Which prompted one of the ladies to say "Indojin da!" (Indians!) and her friend to say "Waa, sugoi!" (Oh wow!). Which even if we weren't at the Indian Embassy I would have found hilarious, because Indians are not exactly rare in Tokyo (there's even a Little India here, one of the few ethnic areas in the city).

We had picked up a map when we started and took the recommended route, which was probably meant for daytime flower viewing because after the path ended we walked through the nearby Kitanomaru Koen Park, which was dark and any cherry trees that might have been there were pretty much invisible, with the exception of a few at each end of the park.

Then we dodged joggers (there were hundreds of them!) as we walked along a busy road that followed the moat; it was lined with cherry trees but they weren't lit up so it was hard to see them. Would have been much nicer in the daytime, especially with most of those joggers safely at work.

Finally we found ourselves right back at the beginning of Chidorigafuchi Ryokudo, so we took a few more pictures before heading home. It was actually quite a bit more crowded than these pictures suggest, and we had to wait quite a while to get shots that weren't full of people. I'm not thrilled with my pictures and have a lot to learn about night shots, but this is good incentive to learn. And this was a lovely place to visit, with or without camera skills. I recommend a visit during the day, but if you really want to come at night budget quite a bit of time, because the crowds move slowly. We took about three hours to complete our route, and that was with crowds about half of what they'd be during peak cherry blossom time. Which looks like it will be this weekend (Saturday really, because rain is forecast for Sunday) and early next week in Tokyo. Happy cherry blossom viewing!

Chidorigafuchi Ryokudo
Free entry (rowboats can be rented until 7:30 for 800 yen per half hour)
Blossoms will lit up from 6:30 to 10:00 nightly until April 5th (may be extended this year due to the late blooming of the sakura)
Nearest stations: Hanzomon and Kudanshita (signs in Japanese mark the way to and from Hanzomon and Chidorigafuchi; if you can't read Japanese just follow the crowds)

JapanSoc it!

Mentaiko

Mentaiko (polluck or cod roe preserved with salt and red pepper, often called "spicy cod roe" in English) is one of my favourite foods in the world, but we don't eat if often because it's expensive. Or at least the good stuff is expensive, but as I've discovered the cheap stuff is cheap for a reason and just not worth buying. And then there's the really good stuff, mentaiko so rare you can't buy it in stores: you have to buy it where it's made, or by mail order, or have a very kind person send it to you as a present. Which is how we got this stuff:

It arrived in a refrigerated delivery truck, shipped from Hakata (a city in southern Japan famous for its mentaiko) inside two boxes. The inner box is meant to look like the wooden container mentaiko used to be sold in, and was actually reinforced on the inside with real wood. Typical Japanese packaging, with incredible attention to detail but rather excessive (and a real bitch to tear apart for recycling).

Inside were seven sacs of roe (you can only see six here because I'd already taken one out for sampling). These were bigger and more beautiful than anything I've ever bought, and according to the package made without artificial colouring (cheaper mentaiko is often dyed red).

There's a lot you can do with mentaiko, but the best thing to do with top quality roe is simply serve it over rice. So that was the first thing we did, and it was delicious. It tasted rich without being fishy, had a good level of spice, and although the texture was creamy, each roe managed to hold up well and pop in the mouth. Unfortunately it also had a strong sake odor, which my husband liked but I wasn't crazy about.

The rest of the mentaiko was served in ways that would reduce the sake smell. Here is rice with yakimentaiko (grilled mentaiko), cooked whole and sliced. The picture didn't turn out well so it's hard to see, but it is cooked on the outside and pink in the centre: I love the contrast of the creamy inside and firm outside. Yakimentaiko is also a great filling for onigiri (rice balls), which is exactly what happened to the leftovers from this meal.

My other favourite way to eat mentaiko is as mentaiko spaghetti. This is one of the simplest recipes in the world (although the dish has a million variations, some of them quite complicated), and involves nothing more than scooping out the roe from a sac or two of mentaiko, mixing it with melted butter, and tossing with spaghetti. Toppings, like chiffonade of shiso (perilla), crumbled nori seaweed or the sliced negi (long onion) shown here, are optional.

For a dish with such a short ingredient list, mentaiko spaghetti is ridiculously good. I'd eat it all the time if I could, and next time we're lucky enough to get a box of mentaiko I'm stocking up on spaghetti and butter. Or maybe I should just move to Hakata.