Blue Lotus

Foraging in Tokyo

A few posts back I mentioned picking cherries while at a local park, and I thought I'd follow that up with some pictures from a more recent visit. (The park is actually two parks: Oizumi Chuo Koen in Tokyo and Wako Jurin Koen across the border in Saitama, so the title of this post is a bit misleading as not all of my foraging was actually within Tokyo's borders.)

This is a hebi ichigo (false strawberry), which looks like it would be delicious. The first time I found one here I assumed it would be similar to the wonderful wild strawberries we get at home, so it was a huge disappointment when I had a taste. Despite the colourful, juicy appearance, they dry and have virtually no flavour. Occasionally one will have a hint of sweetness, or a faint melony-cucumber flavour, but it's very subtle. They are fully edible, and don't actually taste bad, but would only be worth picking if you were starving. Still, I occasionally find myself popping one in my mouth, just because.

These are sakura no mi (wild cherries). They're ready when they're black and plump. Over-ripe cherries are slightly wrinkled and should be avoided: they're plenty sweet but likely to be chock full of bugs.

This is the queen of wild fruit, at least in my area: yama ichigo. Literally "mountain strawberry", these are actually a type of raspberry.

They are sweet and mild, and the seeds are lighter and softer than regular raspberries: they are pleasantly crunchy and do not get stuck in your teeth.

This is a yama ichigo flower, the centre of which will eventually turn into a berry. The plants are abundant at the park, but don't produce a lot of fruit--and what fruit they do produce is a bit hard to find, usually hidden under the leaves.

Unfortunately they prefer the same terrain as hebi ichigo produce fruit at roughly the same time. And because the berries look similar, at least from afar, they can be rather annoying to pick. Here are a few hints: up close, yama ichigo plants can be identified by the white flowers--hebi ichigo usually have smaller yellow flowers, and their flower season is long over when the berries ripen. The fruit of the yama ichigo is large and reddish orange, and usually grows off the ground, up to a height of about 40 cm, while hebi ichigo fruit is bright red, small and close to the ground.

These berries weren't very tasty.

Heehee, just kidding, but I did almost reach for one of these ladybugs. This particular tree, and this one only, was just covered with ladybugs--some brand-new and some still in the larval stage. They had an amazing variety of spot patterns and came in three different types: black with orange spots, black with white spots, and reddish-orange with black spots (the orange one at top right has just emerged and will shortly turn a bit darker). There are more varieties of ladybugs in Japan than this, but still the large variety of them on this one single tree was astonishing. I only wish I was able to get a picture with a bunch of them together, but they weren't very cooperative. So failing that this collage gives an idea of how heavily this tree was crawling with ladybugs.

This is what I came home with: a bag of sakura no mi, a bag of yama ichigo and kuwa no mi (mulberries), and a few sprigs each of ki no me (leaves of sansho, or Sichuan pepper) and yomogi (mugwort). There were a few more edible plants that I didn't pick: warabi (bracken fern), which was too mature, and tampopo (dandelion) which were too far out in the open (see warning below). And those are just the plants that I know and can identify. I wonder what other edible herbs and berries are out there?

Here's a better look. Clockwise from left: yama ichigo, sakura no mi, ki no me, hebi ichigo, kuwa no mi. I had originally planned to turn the berries into jam or liqueur but I ended up just eating them as-is. Hopefully the park will continue to produce berries for a few more weeks, and then I'll get to do something more exciting with them.

So if you live in Tokyo, don't assume that it's all a concrete jungle! Sakura no mi and kuwa no mi abound even in the city, and other edible treats may be lurking around as well. The next time you're at a park or even just walking through the streets, keep your eyes peeled. An easy way to find cherries and mulberries is by searching the ground for black splotches caused by fallen fruit: look up and you see fruit that is dark puple to black and looks like a berry, it probably is. One little bite will tell you if it's tasty or not.

* Caution: Poisonous berries are relatively rare and tend to look different from edible berries, so if you know what wild cherries, raspberries, mulberries etc. look like you'll be fine. Poisonous berries tend to be white, green or bright red and are bitter enough that you'll want to spit it out immediately. As far as I know there are no berries in Japan that can cause harm from just one taste.

A more practical warning is to steer clear of low-lying berries and herbs out in the open, especially in dog-intensive areas. I think you can guess why. Yama ichigo are safe as the stalks have thorns. And avoid berries that touch the ground, are mishapen and are discoloured as they are more likely to have extra protein, if you get my drift.

Spring flower round-up

Spring didn't end when the cherry blossoms dropped, and I have a few month's worth of flower pictures to show you. Names can be confusing, since they vary from place to place, so I'll try to include the Japanese, scientific and common English names for each flower. But there are a few whose names I don't know, so if anyone can help identify them please speak up.

椿 (tsubaki)
Camellia japonica
Camellia (variety unkown)

The tsubaki is actually considered a winter flower but keeps blooming through to April. The flower above, of unknown variety, was actually one of the last blooms in my area, and had faded considerably from its original red colour.

乙女椿 (otome tsubaki)
Camellia japonica var. rusticana (Honda) T.L. Ming
Camellia (common name unknown)

This one really was pink, and I wish I knew the variety name in English as it's one of the most elegent flowers in the world.

大犬の陰嚢 (oh-inu no fuguri)
Veronica persica
Persian speedwell

These tiny flowers abound in March and April, but can be easily overlooked due to their size and low stature. A shame, because they are very cute.

The Japanese name is rather mysterious, and I urge caution to anyone thinking of searching for the meaning online. I just googled the kanji for "fuguri" and Wikipedia Japan let me know, in a most graphic way, that it means "testicles". So this flower seems to be called "big dog's testicles"--does anyone know why? Because I've seen quite a few dog testicles in my day, belonging to all sizes of dogs, and none of them looked like this.

I'm guessing this little April flower is some kind of sweet pea. Anyone know the proper name?

Another tiny mystery flower, out from March to May.

蒲公英 (tampopo)
Taraxacum officinale
Common dandelion

I made a wish after I took this picture, but I'm not telling you what for.

大紫躑躅 (oh-murasaki tsutsuji)
Rhododendron pulchrum
Lovely azalea

Lovely indeed, these azaleas are ubiquitous in April, with virtually every street in Tokyo (and a good number of train stations) being lined with them. The Japanese name literally means "large purple azalea" which must mean that the language has no word for "fuchsia", because these flowers definitely aren't purple.

Another wee little easy-to-overlook wildflower, this one blooms from mid-May to... well I don't know really because they're so easy to miss that this is the first year I've noticed them.  

山吹 (yamabuki)
Kerria japonica
Kerria rose, Japanese rose

These shade-loving flowers bloom prolifically in April and are so bright and cheerful looking that they make me happy each time I pass them by. The world needs more of these flowers.

カルミア (karumia)
Kalmia latifolia
Mountain laurel

This amazing flower is one that I had never seen until I moved a few years ago; now they're all over my neighborhood and I'm glad for it. The unique blooms pop open in May and come in varying shades from white to deep pink.

These May blossoms are chestnut flowers, but I'm not sure what type. The chestnuts back home in Ontario had white flowers of a similar size and shape while edible chestnuts in Japan have completely different flowers. 

いろは紅葉 (iroha momiji)
Acer palmatum
Japanese maple

Properly called "iroha momiji", these maples are commonly called simply "mojiji", but yet again I run into Japanese name confusion: the kanji for "momiji" literally means "red leaves". It has two pronunciations: "momiji", or Japanese maple, and "kouyo", or autumn leaves. Japan's nature is certainly beautiful, but the language drives me bonkers.

The seeds are as beautiful as the leaves. There must be a special name for this type of seed--when I was a kid we used to call them "helicopters" because of the way they spun as they descended to the ground.

I used to split open the seed part, which is full of a glue-like sap, and stick it to the bridge of my nose to transform myself into a rhinoceros. It's not quite as impressive with the Japanese seeds, which I attribute to the smaller size of the seeds here and a lack of imagination on the part of my audience (although the audience in question--namely my husband--thinks it may be because my nose has grown quite a bit since my rhino days).

紫陽花 (ajisai)
Hydrangea macrophylla
Bigleaf hydrangea

My favourite flower of all is just coming into bloom now. Most buds in my neighborhood are still tight and green but a few are starting to open and turn white, with these particular blooms showing blue tips. In another month this bush will be covered in showy blue flowers--expect another gratuitous flower post in June.

 

Kobe Kachoen

While I was visiting the in-laws in Osaka we took another trip to Kachoen, the bird and flower park in Kobe that we went to last summer. We stayed for a shorter time than before and although I didn't get a chance to see the owls or play with the toucans and parrots, it was even better because my niece Marya was with us. Watching her delighted reactions to the birds was just as fun as watching the birds themselves.

She had been really excited about seeing the penguins, and while she did like them it turns out that was she liked best feeding the ducks. "Come for the penguins, stay for the ducks", that's Kachoen's motto.

But for me the highlight of the day was the hot swan action:

But Kachoen is not all hungry ducks and randy swans. There's plenty else to see and do, so I'll leave you with a bunch of pictures from the rest of our visit. There are lots more in my Golden Week album, so if you just can't get enough of exotic birds, pretty flowers and cute nieces, have a peek.

Golden Week

I went spent the (roughly) week-long spring holiday called "Golden Week" with my parents-in-law in Osaka, and seeing as I've been back in Tokyo for a week I thought I should get around to posting about it.

My time was equally divided between playing with my niece Marya, eating enormous meals (including three buffet lunches, and if that doesn't sound exciting then you've never had a good Japanese buffet), and convalescing from yet another cold. Or whatever this thing is. Hours before I was to ride the night bus to Osaka I came down with the exact same sore throat and fatigue as I got last month (and New Years, and now), and knowing I was likely in for a bit of unpleasantness I considered canceling the whole thing and staying in Tokyo. But I figured I'd be better off being miserable around family than being miserable alone, so off I went.

I laid low for a few days, canceling my plans for a day trip to Kyoto and even going to a clinic for some meds. My first visit to a doctor in Osaka, and if that one experience is enough to go on it seems the waiting-time-to-consultation-length ratio is even worse there than in Tokyo. About a two hour wait (including the wait for meds and payment), and 90 seconds with the doctor. True, longer waits are typical during holidays, but I've never been brushed off so quickly by a doctor before.

Luckily the meds worked, which is a good thing because Marya is tireless. She had to go a park every day, and not just a dinky local park but great big special far away ones, full of playgrounds and vast spaces to run around in. She has very specific ideas about what each adult accompanying her should do, such as as who has to race her, who pushes her bike when she's not using it, and who carries the bags. Luckily she's still into the game called "you guys sit still and watch me while I do stuff", so we did get some rest occasionally.

Marya and her mom headed back to Tokyo before we did, and we were sad to see them go. Marya, on the other hand, couldn't wait to say good-bye, so excited she was about riding the "kinkanten" (shinkansen, or bullet train). To help cheer us up, Hideaki drove his parents and I to Kyoto. It wasn't the full day of sightseeing I had originally planned, but I was glad I got to go after all. After a very nice lunch (buffet #2) at the Miyako Hotel we headed to Toji Temple, home of Kyoto's iconic five-story pagoda.

It is 55 metres tall, making it not only the tallest pagoda in Japan but the tallest wooden building in Japan. But not the oldest: although the pagoda was originally built in 826, it has burned down several times over the centuries, and the current structure is a mere 364 years old.

There were some special exhibits that day, with access allowed to a few areas that are normally closed to the public. So (for a steep fee), we got to enter the normally off-limits pagoda and see the statues and paintings inside. Other buildings (the temple actually consists of several buildings) housed treasures associated with Kobo Daishi, founder of esoteric Buddhism and builder of the pagoda.

The gardens were nice too, and full of spring flowers in bloom. But most impressive was this egret, who made a splashy landing in one of the ponds and chugged down a few fish.

And finally, no trip to Osaka is complete without takoyaki (octopus dumplings) or okonomiyaki (savory pancake), so we made sure to have both for lunch. We followed with some yakisoba (fried noodles), but even with that and a big mug of beer this was probably the smallest meal we had all week. Now that we're back home we're trying to eat a bit less to try to balance things out. Not a huge problem though, at least in the takoyaki and okonomiyaki department: they just don't make it right here.

Lots more pictures in my Golden Week album.

八重桜

OK, I promise this will be the last cherry blossom related post this year. You're probably getting sick of seeing these flowers, since they all do kind of look the same. But somehow I never tire of sakura--even this year, with the extra long blooming season.

The regular somei yoshino sakura have long since dropped their petals, leaving the ground carpeted in a sea of white and pink so thick in places that it looks like we've had an April snowfall.

But when the somei yoshino are on their way out, the shidare-zakura (weeping cherry blossom) come out, and when they're done it's time for the yae-zakura (double cherry blossoms).

Shidare-zakura are lovely but there are none around here, while my neighborhood abounds in yae-zakura. I've never really liked yae-zakura, since they lack the delicate simplicity of regular cherry blossoms--in fact I've always thought that trees covered in those big puffy double cherry blossoms looked rather tacky.

But it wasn't until I moved into this neighborhood that I was able to see them close up, and I discovered that what charm the trees lack when seen from afar is more than made up for by viewing the blossoms up close. They really are quite beautiful, especially when the sun shines from behind and the many petals create layers of colour.

Now the yae-zakura are gone too, but spring is in full swing and there flowers blooming all over the place. It's so lovely around here lately that I may just have to change my favourite season from summer to spring.

Still blooming

The cherry blossom season is remarkably long this year, and although I was stuck at home with a cold while the blooms were at their peak, there were still a few left to see when I recovered. Sadly my camera is acting up, yet again: it won't focus in regular pictures, and the middle of the frame is blurry as you can see above. My lens is clean the camera continues to work fine for close-ups, so I'm not sure what's going on. I guess I'll have to send it in for more repairs. Or is it finally time to buy a new camera?

Many of the cherry trees at our local park are not regular somei yoshino (the most widely planted variety of sakura), but a fruit-bearing type that bloom a little bit later and produce tart little wild cherries in June. They have more colour than somei yoshino and also have a bit of a fragrance, but because they bloom at the same time as their leaves sprout they are a wee bit less impressive. Still, a cherry blossom is a cherry blossom, and a park full of these is plenty beautiful.

But even though the sakura are almost gone doesn't mean they can't be celebrated. This is Japan, and there's always something to buy. This sake is produced by a local merchant's association just for this season and is called "Ooizumi", which is the same name as our neighborhood but switches the kanji around-- the first character is replaced by the kanji for "sakura".

I think it is brewed elsewhere but the bottle says it's made with local underground spring water. I didn't know we even had local spring water, but I've always wondered why our neighborhood was called what it was: Ooizumigakuen means something like "university campus of the big spring", yet there are no universities here and I've never seen a spring, big or little. But I guess somewhere around here there's a spring, or a well leading to a spring. And now half of the mystery is solved.

I bought this sakura anpan at a local bakery. Anpan is a popular snack consisting of a bun filled with anko (sweet red bean paste); this sakura version is topped with a preserved cherry blossom.

Inside, instead of the regular dark red anko it stuffed with shiro-an (white bean paste) mixed with preserved cherry blossoms. The blossoms turn the shiro-an a lovely shade of pink, and add a pleasant salty floral flavour.

And of course, the traditional two-toed cherry blossom viewing socks. Actually, I think those are ume (Japanese apricot blossoms), but close enough.

So there you have it. There is not a single holiday or seasonal even that doesn't involve commercial products for sale, so if you happen to miss the cherry blossoms themselves, don't worry. There's still plenty of stuff to buy.

Butter

In February I tried to buy unsalted butter for cookies, and when all my local supermarkets were sold out I wasn't surprised: it was just before Valentine's Day, a time when virtually every female in the country was busy making sweet treats for their sweethearts. I was able to make do with regular butter but later I became a bit puzzled. Not only did unsalted butter never return to supermarket shelves, but regular butter soon disappeared as well. I shop at irregular hours so I just assumed that I was unlucky or that butter had recently been featured on a health-related TV show (a sure-fire way to cause a product to sell out nation wide) and would soon reappear.

But it didn't, and only recently did I find out that there is a butter shortage in Japan. It's really hard to believe: we're not at war, the economy hasn't crashed, and dairy cows aren't being wiped out by disease or severe weather. But then again this is Japan, where agricultural management follows a mysterious set of rules created by senile wombats from the 5th dimension. Or at least that's what I suspect. I remember a few years back when massive amounts of produce was destroyed because prices were getting too cheap, only to have shortages and sky-high prices a few months later. Anyone else remember those 800 yen cabbages?

Anyway, last week we finally ran out of butter, and at the supermarket I got an idea. Most other milk products were still widely available, including cream. And I remembered when I was in kindergarten we made butter by pouring cream into glass jars and shaking the hell out of them. I don't remember much from that age, but I do remember that I loved making butter. It was fun and I found the transformation of liquid cream to solid butter just fascinating. I also loved the taste: we ate it on saltine crackers and I thought it was the most delicious thing I'd ever had, and butter on crackers remained a favourite snack throughout my childhood. A few years later I was hooked on the Little House in the Prairie books and again became fascinated by Laura Wilder's description of Ma churning cream into butter, pioneer-style. So butter making is something I've always wanted to try again.

And I finally had a good excuse to do it. So today I made up my mind to buy cream and make butter, and set out to the supermarket. And wouldn't you know it, they were fully stocked with butter, for the first time in months. Not to be deterred, I bought both a stick of butter and a 200 ml carton (the only available size) of heavy cream.

I meant to use a glass jar so I could see what was going on inside, but after testing the cheapo jar I'd bought at the 100 yen shop I realized it wasn't fully leak proof. So I just shook the cream right in its own carton, and less than 45 minutes later I had butter.

It was a very pale colour and rather mild tasting-- apparently the cream can be cultured first to make a fuller flavour, so I might do that next time. Still it was sweet and buttery enough to be totally worth the effort, and was very nice on a toasted English muffin with tomatoes and an egg.

If you'd like to try making butter, the fastest way is with a mixer: Cooking for Engineers has good directions. But if you're like me and are attracted to more low-tech ways of doing things, then this is how to shake cream into butter.

You'll need:

• small carton of heavy cream (the heavier the better, and make sure there are no thickeners or whipping agents added)
• large metal clip
• clean marble or large bead
• salt, optional

Open the carton and pour a few tablespoons out to make some air space. This is a good time to make yourself a nice big cup of coffee, as it will help you use up the poured-off cream and will also give you the energy you'll need for all the shaking. Drop in the marble, close the carton and seal it with the clip.

Start shaking. After 15 minutes or so you won't feel the marble moving around, and you'll know you've reached the whipped cream stage. Go ahead and have a look, and you might as well have a taste too. From this point you will need to shake quite vigorously. It won't feel like much is happening in there, but after several more minutes you'll suddenly feel liquid sloshing around again. That's the buttermilk separating from the butter curds, and you just need to keep shaking for another minute or so until the curds merge together.

It should look like this, with the curds formed into a ball. You now have butter, but there is just a bit more work left. Pour off the buttermilk and reserve for another use. To clean the butter, pour a little cold water into the carton, close and shake for half a minute. Open and drain off the water, repeat twice.

Your butter is now ready. If you want salted butter, add a pinch of salt and give it a few more shakes to mix it. You can keep shaking to get whipped butter, but your arms are probably sore enough so all you have to do now is make yourself some toast, slather it with your freshly made butter, and enjoy.

The butter can be kept in the carton-- just re-seal it with the metal clip and keep it in the fridge. Like store-bought butter, you'll need to use it up quickly if it's unsalted. But if you've just emerged from a butter famine like I have, that shouldn't be a problem.

Sakura

On my way home from the doctor's office on Tuesday I took a slight detour and walked through the park. The sakura (cherry blossoms) were still mostly intact, despite the recent windy and rainy weather, and seeing them really cheered me up.

I probably should have hurried home, since it was a chilly day with an even chillier wind, but I dawdled a bit and took some pictures. I'll be damned if a stupid cold is going to keep me away from the blossoms.

There are several streets in the neighborhood lined on each side with large cherry trees, creating what's known in Japan as a "sakura tunnel". It really is a beautiful sight to see, but unfortunately at that time of day the traffic prevented me from taking any pictures that did the tunnels justice. I'm sure by the time I'm well enough to make it out again all the trees will have dropped their petals, so for this year these pictures will have to do. Luckily Tokyo's flower parade doesn't end with sakura, so there are plenty of blossoms on their way and I don't intend to miss them.

I hope that you're staying healthy and enjoying whatever nature's spectacles are underway in your part of the world!

Antibiotics for a cold

The sakura (cherry blossoms) were at their peak on the weekend. As was my cold, which meant our plans for a hanami (cherry blossom viewing) picnic were scrapped. I hardly even left the house until yesterday morning, when I finally realized that this cold wasn't going away by itself. Luckily there is a doctor's office just a short walk away and I am now on the mend, thanks to whatever was in the meds I was given.

Since I'm getting better I really shouldn't complain, but I just don't get the doctors here. All of my symptoms pointed to strep throat but all the doc did was look at the back of my throat and listen to my lungs, and within ninety seconds of stepping into his office he declared I had a plain old cold. He didn't take a throat swab or even feel my glands (which were plenty swollen), but on the other hand he said I'd need medicine to bring down my fever-- even though a nurse had earlier determined my temperature was 36.5. And so I was sent on my way with a prescription for four kinds of medications: an antibiotic, a fever reducer, tummy medicine to prevent damage from the other meds, and a bottle of iodine for gargling.

I've always wondered why antibiotics are routinely handed out for simple colds. After all, a cold is a virus and does not respond in any way to antibiotic treatment. But given my rapid improvement since I started my medications, I think I may have the answer. Is it possible that the antibiotic I received is for treating strep throat? I understand that penicillin is the usual choice for strep, but since everything seems to be done differently here in Japan maybe this stuff (clarithromycin) is used instead. And perhaps automatically handing out an antibiotic is cheaper and faster than testing for strep, sinus infections or other bacteria.

Not a very good way to do things at all, but at least it's a possible explanation for something that has long puzzled me. Does anyone have any thoughts on Japan's apparent love affair with antibiotics?

Take me out to the (practice) ball game

Today I went to the Tokyo Dome with my husband and a friend to see a pre-season practice game between the Tokyo Giants and the Hanshin Tigers. I know very little about baseball and its nomenclature, so am not sure what these pretend games are called in English or if they even exist outside of Japan. I mean, would North American baseball fans pay 30 bucks for the privilege of cramming themselves into a crowded stadium to watch two teams try out their players in a game that doesn't even count for anything?

My husband was miffed that we arrived merely on time, as he'd hoped to watch the players warming up (as in, he actually wanted to see the practice for the practice game). I cheered him up by buying donning my complete range of Tigers accessories, because the next best thing to being a sports fan is to look like one:

Or look like a dork. It's all the same to me.

Anyway, check out all that enthusiasm! It's not that I didn't try though, it's just that my husband was far too busy watching the pretend game to take any pictures. So by the time we got home and took this picture the magic had kind of worn off.

So back to the game. This was our first time at the Tokyo Dome, and it kind of sucked because it was actually a beautiful day and it would have been great to be sitting outside. But it must be a treat on rainy days, especially for people who've come far out of their way to see a game. The Giants are the default favourite team of country bumpkins all over Japan, whose little villages don't have teams of their own. Which means a lot of those people over on the Giants side in the picture above are out-of-towners, and it would suck to come all the way to Tokyo to see your favourite team only to have the game canceled by rain. What with Japan's love of over-priced construction projects I don't know why they just didn't build a retractable roof, but maybe coming from the land of the SkyDome I'm a bit spoiled.

Now, compare the dark drab crowds in the home seats above to the away crowds below:

Fully half of the stadium was filled with Tigers fans, virtually all of them (I mean us) sporting the Tigers colours, yellow and white. The Tokyo Giants might have the most fans but Hanshin Tigers supporters make up for their smaller numbers with enthusiasm and loyalty.

As a faux fan though, I was free to mostly ignore the game. I'm not uninterested, but experience has shown me that authentic fans like my husband don't like to be pestered with an endless stream of "What's that guy doing over there?", "Who's that?", "What just happened?" and so on. Apparently it makes it hard to concentrate or something. So I had to find other things to occupy myself, like beer, fried chicken and yakisoba (shown above). Japanese baseball food is a little different than the stuff we eat back home and I was hoping to show you more, but the game was over too fast to get into any serious eating.

Drinking wasn't a problem though, thanks to the hordes of beer girls on patrol. I've seen beer hawkers of both sexes in other stadiums but at the Tokyo Dome they're all female, all young (I doubt most of them were old enough to legally consume the product they were selling), and all extremely happy to be there. They are also all very cute, with their attractiveness seemingly determining their wares: the plainer girls sell snacks, the cuter girls peddle coffee and soda and the real beauties dispense the alcohol. They carry little kegs of beer on their backs, in half a dozen varieties, with a stack of plastic cups holstered at their hips. They bow at the bottom of each aisle before making their ascent, flashing smiles in all directions, and if you beckon one over she will cheerfully charge you 800 yen for a little cup. I think the men don't mind this system at all though, and I didn't think it was so bad either: hard to complain about freshly poured ice-cold beer.

I never knew baseball could have cheerleaders, but here in Japan the more cute girls you can cram into an event the better, so there they were. Note the rapt attention they are receiving.

The game was over before we knew it: the pitchers all played well but the hitters really were practicing, and none of them managed to score. This being a practice game there were no extra innings so we were out of there in record time. A nice treat for me but kind of a bummer for Hideaki. I cheered him up by buying him a Tigers wristband emblazoned with 31, the number of his favourite player. So with his new gear he's already looking forward to the next game. I'm dreading it: with the amount of money we spent on today's practice game and accompanying refreshments/accessories, I hate to think how much a real one costs.

お花見

On the weekend we took advantage of some lovely weather to have our first hanami (flower viewing) picnic of the year. We didn't eat under the sakura (cherry blossoms), which are the usual choice for hanami, as they won't b blooming for another three weeks or so. Rather it was ume (Japanese apricot blossoms) that decorated our outdoor dining room. Ume are less celebrated than their cherry blossom cousins in part because of the weather: it's still usually too cold to properly enjoy them. But really it's not exactly balmy when the cherry blossoms are out so on a sunny day ume are just as easy to enjoy.

This is what I made for lunch. In the box on the left is dessert: strawberries, apples (including my first ever usagi ringo, a standard bento item made of apple slices cut to look like rabbits) and segments of dekopon, a tangerine-like citrus. Next box: udo (a spring vegetable) dressed with katsuobushi (bonito flakes); cherry tomatoes; soramame (fresh fava beans); tsukune yaki (sauteed chicken patties wrapped in nori and shiso); buta no negimaki (long onion wrapped with pork); broccoli. Next box: fuki (butterbur) simmered with carrots; the same cherry tomatoes, soramame, broccoli and negimaki as the other box; and teriyaki scallops. And in the box on the right are onigiri (rice balls), two stuffed with mentaiko (spicy cod roe) and three mixed with salmon flakes.

To drink we had amazake (a hot drink made of sake less flavoured with sugar and ginger) in the thermos, sake and water. And of course we used real chopsticks, oshibori (wet hand towels) and cups instead of the disposables commonly used. Even if we didn't care about the environment this would be a good thing to do as this park, like many others, has no garbage cans.

This was our view as we ate.

After lunch we took pictures and did some goofy posing. I'll spare you the shot of me with ume buds up my nose.

This is mansaku (witch hazel), which blooms around the same time as ume. It has odd looking flowers but a lovely smell.

Ume also have a fragrance, with an intensity that varies with the type. These ones had almost no smell at all.

Another flower just coming in to bloom is sanshuu (Japanese cornel).

But of course it was the ume was the star attr