It might just be our first Japanese friendship. Last Friday night we had dinner with the Japanese baker we met at the Kenzo Wine anniversary party. I met him after several glasses of Kenzo wine. The reason I mention this is because when he told me he was baker, I was taken aback. I mean, how often do you meet a baker? When he told me he baked Amish style I thought, wow, I really must be drunk. But he really does.
He sent us a pie. Actually it was a lemon curd cheesecake. It was better than any cheesecake I've ever had in the States, Amish or otherwise. Well, except for Ben Benson's Steakhouse in New York. Ben Benson has undeniably the best cheesecake ever made and the steaks are pretty good too.
I visited one of his bakeries in the Ginza. He sells his unbelievably yummy products in high end department stores throughout Japan and you can order freshly baked delicacies, like pies, from their website. The only problem is, the website is in Japanese, except for the pictures.
www.flavor.co.jp
I tried a cookie and a brownie. They were very small, like everything else in Japan, but outstanding. The sales staff wear Amish outfits. No, really.
He suggested we meet for dinner at Lawry's. Yes, as in the Lawry's from Los Angeles. I didn't even know they had a Lawry's here. We brought a bottle of California Pride red. We knew we were in the right place when the bar was filled with a bunch of chubby guys with receding hairlines wearing shorts, t-shirts and baseball caps - you're basic dumpy Americans. The thin and immaculately dressed baker was waiting for us at one of the tables outside, all smiles and graciousness.
He knew the owner and the manager so we were seated at an excellent table and set up with some champagne, my favorite beverage. I was curious to see if they served American beef. They did. Everything was exactly the same, right down to the 1950's uniforms. The only thing different was they had added one other cut, the Tokyo cut, for the smaller Japanese appetite. Actually Russell and I were going to order the Tokyo cut when our guest suggested we take a look at his portion size first. He ordered the Classic cut, so we did too, except for I ordered an end piece. The piece I received was no Classic cut. It was more like a gargantuan cut. It was huge and delicious and if I had known ahead of time you can't take the leftover meat with you, I would have eaten all of it. I watched it being taken away with a wisp of regret and a sigh. That was one good piece of meat, even if it was American.
The baker didn't bring his wife. We assumed he lived in Tokyo, but actually he lives in Nagoya, near Toyota City, an hour and 45 minute train ride from Tokyo. We felt kind of bad he came all the way into town just to have dinner with us. We were flattered.
The conversation was as interesting as I thought it would be. He was very nice, intelligent, and humble.
Sometimes I felt like we were bragging just by telling him what we did for a living back in the States. The American way is so much more direct. Some might call it crass. Oh, that's right, they do.
I had to cajole details out of him on his own career. We tentatively attempted humor. Well I did. Sometimes it went over well, sometimes not so much. I thought I was funny. But then I do always laugh at my own jokes. Someone has to.
The baker is a true American enthusiast. He was a high school exchange student in Livermore, California 30 years ago. He said the cultural differences were really shocking then, especially how little clothing California girls wear. Thirty years ago Japanese women were really demure; everything was covered up. Not so in California - he liked that. Who doesn't?
He loves America. He lived with a family for a year during high school and became interested in American baking. American baking is very different than Japanese baking. The Japanese are infatuated with French baking, not so much American. So he started an American bakery in Japan.
He has relatives that live in Seattle that are somehow affiliated with the Amish. Not the Pennsylvania Amish but the Ohio, Amish. That's how he got into Amish cooking. He actually went to an Amish wedding and became enamored with the Amish and there traditional ways. He likened the Amish culture to the Japanese culture. He feels they are similar in their freedom, that is, freedom to lead a traditional, simple way of life. He stayed with an Amish family for a few days to learn their techniques. Pictures of his Amish adventure are posted on his website.
The evening was most enjoyable. I wondered what he thought of us. I hoped he liked us. He seemed to but I've been warned about that. They say the Japanese never let on how they really feel about you. He did say next time he would take us to his favorite sushi restaurant. I'll take that as a good sign. I bet they don't let gaijin in there without an escort.
Next week we're going out with a Japanese couple we met at the same party we met the baker. The wife is a master sommelier and I'm a master drinker so it should be great fun.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Driver's Ed Part 1
Actually this post should be entitled, The Quest, Adventures in Bureaucracy. Getting a drivers license in Japan is like applying for citizenship in Switzerland - a lot of red tape and no smiling. There are forms to legitimize other forms and of course it can't all be done at the same time. It's rumored they fail Americans on principle alone. Based on statistics it seems the rumors are true. In Tokyo only 35% of Americans pass the drivers test the first time. One expat told me it took them six attempts. Six! You can actually hire a service here to help you get one.
http://www.japandriverslicense.com/?gclid=CODQ1qKLnKoCFYtypAod9kB6ww
Just going to the U.S. Embassy site will make you think twice about driving in Japan.
http://japan.usembassy.gov/e/acs/tacs-drive.html
But why get one at all if the public transportation system is so good in Japan you don't need a car? My thoughts exactly. There's really no reason to own a car in Tokyo. Owning a car here is like owning a vacation home. It sounds great. You imagine all the wonderful times you'll spend in it. The road trips, the picnics by the sea, trips to Kyoto. But how often do you really use it? In the long run you end up spending a lot of money but not a lot of time and ultimately sell it for less than you bought it for when it seemed so exotic. It's as bad as owning a boat, which we've already tried. You know what B.O.A.T. stands for don't you? Break Out Another Thousand.
Only the rich own cars here, which is probably why you see more Ferraris, Porsches, Maseratis and my personal favorite, Aston Martins, along with the a deluge of Toyotas and Nissans. They won't even sell you a car if you don't have a parking space, which goes for $500+ a month, and you have to get it smog tested not once, but twice a year. Seriously. Plus insurance, plus finding a parking space is harder than finding Bin Laden, plus, plus, plus. You get the picture.
Even though Russell grew up in New Jersey, he acts like a true Californian. Californians can't live without their cars, global warming be damned, why do you think Prius was invented? He thinks we should own a car for the freedom. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to take Ranger and drive to the country for a few hours so he can run? Of course it would but the cost of freedom ain't cheap. But renting a car here is. You can rent a car by the hour here. For roughly $75 you can get an economy car for six hours - which translates to a trip to Ikea or Costco and lunch, or in our particular case, a way to take Ranger the Wonder dog to the Western style kennel for about a third of the price it would cost for a dog delivery service. All this is a long way of explaining why he's getting a drivers license.
It's a two parter:
Part one consists of:
1) Filling out paper work downloaded from the website, which is not in English, which is so helpful.
2) Going to the DMV with every legal document you have proving who you are (alien registration card, passport, drivers license). The difference between the Japanese DMV and the American equivalent is people are actually working at the Japanese version. In America there are generally three to six government workers standing around bullshitting and drinking coffee while hundreds wait in line for assistance. It's the American way.
3.) Going to the Japanese Automotive Federation (JAF), which seemingly is the Japanese version of The Automobile Club or AAA, to get your foreign drivers license translated officially. Russell's assistant translated it but apparently that's not official enough. Like I said they require forms to legitimize other forms. Conceivably you could go here first if you filled out the DMV paperwork properly, a big if, and knew this was required in the first place.
4)Go back to the Japanese DMV before their less than convenient closing hours, they're open from 8-3 (closed for lunch between 11-1), to ensure the paperwork has been filled out and legitimized properly.
5)Take the eye exam which is the same as the U.S.
6)Take the written test which consists of ten logical questions. I was very anxious about this part. In America there is a twenty-five page booklet with rules and regulations for driving on U.S. roads that must be memorized before you take the written test. I went to numerous windows to ask for an English version. They don't have one. I was frantic. The DMV man assured us not to worry. I shouldn't have. The test was ten questions and you have to get seven correct. The questions are true or false. A three year old Japanese kid could pass it, even an American can pass it.
Some sample questions:
If you're driving and you suddenly realize you're speeding the correct thing to do is immediately step
on the brakes hard. True or false?
or
Only the passengers need to wear seat belts; not the driver. True or false?
7)Make an appointment to take the driving test
8)Pray
Ok, so maybe I was a little over anxious about the written test. I should really be saving all my anxiety for the drivers test. I told Russell he should wear a suit, present his business card and over-exaggerate every blind spot check, mirror check, blinker, etc. He's not sweating it. But I am.
To be continued.....
http://www.japandriverslicense.com/?gclid=CODQ1qKLnKoCFYtypAod9kB6ww
Just going to the U.S. Embassy site will make you think twice about driving in Japan.
http://japan.usembassy.gov/e/acs/tacs-drive.html
But why get one at all if the public transportation system is so good in Japan you don't need a car? My thoughts exactly. There's really no reason to own a car in Tokyo. Owning a car here is like owning a vacation home. It sounds great. You imagine all the wonderful times you'll spend in it. The road trips, the picnics by the sea, trips to Kyoto. But how often do you really use it? In the long run you end up spending a lot of money but not a lot of time and ultimately sell it for less than you bought it for when it seemed so exotic. It's as bad as owning a boat, which we've already tried. You know what B.O.A.T. stands for don't you? Break Out Another Thousand.
Only the rich own cars here, which is probably why you see more Ferraris, Porsches, Maseratis and my personal favorite, Aston Martins, along with the a deluge of Toyotas and Nissans. They won't even sell you a car if you don't have a parking space, which goes for $500+ a month, and you have to get it smog tested not once, but twice a year. Seriously. Plus insurance, plus finding a parking space is harder than finding Bin Laden, plus, plus, plus. You get the picture.
Even though Russell grew up in New Jersey, he acts like a true Californian. Californians can't live without their cars, global warming be damned, why do you think Prius was invented? He thinks we should own a car for the freedom. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to take Ranger and drive to the country for a few hours so he can run? Of course it would but the cost of freedom ain't cheap. But renting a car here is. You can rent a car by the hour here. For roughly $75 you can get an economy car for six hours - which translates to a trip to Ikea or Costco and lunch, or in our particular case, a way to take Ranger the Wonder dog to the Western style kennel for about a third of the price it would cost for a dog delivery service. All this is a long way of explaining why he's getting a drivers license.
It's a two parter:
Part one consists of:
1) Filling out paper work downloaded from the website, which is not in English, which is so helpful.
2) Going to the DMV with every legal document you have proving who you are (alien registration card, passport, drivers license). The difference between the Japanese DMV and the American equivalent is people are actually working at the Japanese version. In America there are generally three to six government workers standing around bullshitting and drinking coffee while hundreds wait in line for assistance. It's the American way.
3.) Going to the Japanese Automotive Federation (JAF), which seemingly is the Japanese version of The Automobile Club or AAA, to get your foreign drivers license translated officially. Russell's assistant translated it but apparently that's not official enough. Like I said they require forms to legitimize other forms. Conceivably you could go here first if you filled out the DMV paperwork properly, a big if, and knew this was required in the first place.
4)Go back to the Japanese DMV before their less than convenient closing hours, they're open from 8-3 (closed for lunch between 11-1), to ensure the paperwork has been filled out and legitimized properly.
5)Take the eye exam which is the same as the U.S.
6)Take the written test which consists of ten logical questions. I was very anxious about this part. In America there is a twenty-five page booklet with rules and regulations for driving on U.S. roads that must be memorized before you take the written test. I went to numerous windows to ask for an English version. They don't have one. I was frantic. The DMV man assured us not to worry. I shouldn't have. The test was ten questions and you have to get seven correct. The questions are true or false. A three year old Japanese kid could pass it, even an American can pass it.
Some sample questions:
If you're driving and you suddenly realize you're speeding the correct thing to do is immediately step
on the brakes hard. True or false?
or
Only the passengers need to wear seat belts; not the driver. True or false?
7)Make an appointment to take the driving test
8)Pray
Ok, so maybe I was a little over anxious about the written test. I should really be saving all my anxiety for the drivers test. I told Russell he should wear a suit, present his business card and over-exaggerate every blind spot check, mirror check, blinker, etc. He's not sweating it. But I am.
To be continued.....
Thursday, July 21, 2011
All Aboard
Last Friday night Russell and I took a dinner cruise around Tokyo Bay. Sure the Rainbow Bridge wasn't lit up, they're conserving energy, and there were no fireworks because Disneyland isn't shooting them off any more, because of the earthquake, but none of that mattered because nature provided a spectacular show. A luminous full moon blossomed in the night sky and cascaded ribbons of sparkling diamonds across the bay, like shimmering petals on the wind. It was breathless.
So was the food. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm American, so my expectations are low and therefore I'm easy to please. But in America when you go on a dinner cruise it basically means you pay a lot of money so you can ride on a boat and eat less than mediocre food.
But this was different, so different.
Our yacht was the Symphony Classica. We assembled at a reception area on the dock with one hundred anxious Japanese, waiting our turn to be brought aboard one of the two yachts in their dinner fleet. Unlike the traditional Japanese flat boats, called Yukata, these are gorgeous four deck cruising yachts decked out for spectacular parties and eating. Cocktails in the reception area would have been nice, but the view from the dock was pleasant enough.
We were the first to board. I think the steward thought we would get lost since Russell kept asking him if it was time to board yet. They sat us on an upper deck by the window. All the shades were closed so you couldn't see outside yet. When everyone was seated they lowered the lights, the pianist played a fanfare on the piano and all the shades lifted in unison revealing the twinkling bay. Drinks were distributed expeditiously. Our menu order had already been taken with our reservation. On these ships you have the option of six different meals. We chose the French/Japanese fusion meal, one of the more expensive choices. We noted the more expensive the meal choice, the better the seating. Good to know.
We started with a glass of champagne, my favorite beverage, followed by two half bottles of wine (not at the same time). A white to go with the appetizer and fish course, and a red to go with the meat and dessert. The food was a delight.
At first we were taken aback by how small the portions were. But they were so satisfying and the pacing so timely that by the end of the meal we were pleasantly full, not painfully full like we would be after the epic portions served in America.
The appetizer course had four small inspiring samples: abalone, wagu beef, pate and crispy fish.
Next came the fish course which included three servings of ambrosia: a piece of lobster in lobster sauce, a mini crepe filled with crab and bechamel sauce and a perfectly crisped slice of fish with a butter crumb topping. And finally the meat course which included: thin slices of wagu beef, a lamb chop and a perfectly crisped duck breast. These were served with flavor enhancing accoutrements: sea salt for the beef, a basalmic reduction for the lamb chop and a special sauce for the duck.
After dinner the lights were lowered and the pianist played the anniversary song. A flickering cake was brought out to the couple at the table next to us. Everyone happily applauded as they blew out the three candles. Then the lights were lowered again and six flickering cakes emerged while the pianist played Happy Birthday music. I guess Happy Birthday music is the same in every country. Clearly this experience is meant for celebrations. We were celebrating Friday. Well that and the fact Russell returned safely from his around the world trip. Did you know American Airlines actually sells an "around the world ticket".
By the end, I think we were the only table that hadn't received a celebratory cake. But the dessert they did serve us was very special. It was a peach chiffon cake accompanied by creme fraiche ice cream. I don't usually go for foamy confections. They tend to be too sweet for my tastes. But this was delectable. Not too sweet with slices of fresh peaches, not canned. And well, ice cream is always great.
I have this theory. No matter how full you are there is always room for ice cream. Because, you see, ice cream is cold, so it actually makes you feel less full. I firmly believe and practice this theory.
Then the waiter informed us that usually around this time the fireworks from Tokyo Disney would be going off. But since they were cancelled there wouldn't any. In spite of that we still saw a couple of starbursts shoot off from there, probably in conjunction with Tokyo Sea's Fantasmic show. We need to go there I'm thinking.
We also saw a lot of lights from the Haneda airport. The runway is adjacent to part of Tokyo Bay and several airplanes seemed to skim right over our heads.
After dinner they opened the decks up top. So we promenaded above. While it had been unmercifully hot and humid during the day, the sea breeze, still warm but not oppressive, was the perfect after dinner drink. We breathed it and the view in and cherished the adventure we were having and each other.
So was the food. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm American, so my expectations are low and therefore I'm easy to please. But in America when you go on a dinner cruise it basically means you pay a lot of money so you can ride on a boat and eat less than mediocre food.
But this was different, so different.
Our yacht was the Symphony Classica. We assembled at a reception area on the dock with one hundred anxious Japanese, waiting our turn to be brought aboard one of the two yachts in their dinner fleet. Unlike the traditional Japanese flat boats, called Yukata, these are gorgeous four deck cruising yachts decked out for spectacular parties and eating. Cocktails in the reception area would have been nice, but the view from the dock was pleasant enough.
We were the first to board. I think the steward thought we would get lost since Russell kept asking him if it was time to board yet. They sat us on an upper deck by the window. All the shades were closed so you couldn't see outside yet. When everyone was seated they lowered the lights, the pianist played a fanfare on the piano and all the shades lifted in unison revealing the twinkling bay. Drinks were distributed expeditiously. Our menu order had already been taken with our reservation. On these ships you have the option of six different meals. We chose the French/Japanese fusion meal, one of the more expensive choices. We noted the more expensive the meal choice, the better the seating. Good to know.
We started with a glass of champagne, my favorite beverage, followed by two half bottles of wine (not at the same time). A white to go with the appetizer and fish course, and a red to go with the meat and dessert. The food was a delight.
At first we were taken aback by how small the portions were. But they were so satisfying and the pacing so timely that by the end of the meal we were pleasantly full, not painfully full like we would be after the epic portions served in America.
The appetizer course had four small inspiring samples: abalone, wagu beef, pate and crispy fish.
Next came the fish course which included three servings of ambrosia: a piece of lobster in lobster sauce, a mini crepe filled with crab and bechamel sauce and a perfectly crisped slice of fish with a butter crumb topping. And finally the meat course which included: thin slices of wagu beef, a lamb chop and a perfectly crisped duck breast. These were served with flavor enhancing accoutrements: sea salt for the beef, a basalmic reduction for the lamb chop and a special sauce for the duck.
After dinner the lights were lowered and the pianist played the anniversary song. A flickering cake was brought out to the couple at the table next to us. Everyone happily applauded as they blew out the three candles. Then the lights were lowered again and six flickering cakes emerged while the pianist played Happy Birthday music. I guess Happy Birthday music is the same in every country. Clearly this experience is meant for celebrations. We were celebrating Friday. Well that and the fact Russell returned safely from his around the world trip. Did you know American Airlines actually sells an "around the world ticket".
By the end, I think we were the only table that hadn't received a celebratory cake. But the dessert they did serve us was very special. It was a peach chiffon cake accompanied by creme fraiche ice cream. I don't usually go for foamy confections. They tend to be too sweet for my tastes. But this was delectable. Not too sweet with slices of fresh peaches, not canned. And well, ice cream is always great.
I have this theory. No matter how full you are there is always room for ice cream. Because, you see, ice cream is cold, so it actually makes you feel less full. I firmly believe and practice this theory.
Then the waiter informed us that usually around this time the fireworks from Tokyo Disney would be going off. But since they were cancelled there wouldn't any. In spite of that we still saw a couple of starbursts shoot off from there, probably in conjunction with Tokyo Sea's Fantasmic show. We need to go there I'm thinking.
We also saw a lot of lights from the Haneda airport. The runway is adjacent to part of Tokyo Bay and several airplanes seemed to skim right over our heads.
After dinner they opened the decks up top. So we promenaded above. While it had been unmercifully hot and humid during the day, the sea breeze, still warm but not oppressive, was the perfect after dinner drink. We breathed it and the view in and cherished the adventure we were having and each other.
This boat's a tad bigger than our boat at home.
We didn't mean to dress alike.
Russell's always copying me.
The dining room resplendent with grand piano and pianist.
Where's my wine?
Appetizer Course
Seafood Course
Yes, that's lobster.
Meat Course
Heart course
Imagine what this shot would look like taken with a real camera; not an iPhone
Thursday, July 14, 2011
I'm Not Winning the Bug War
Yesterday Russell came home from being out of town for ten days. His first comment after the precursory hug was, "You have mosquito bites all over the back of your legs! What is that about?!" My reply, "that's about smorgasbord. I'm the smorgasbord." I may claim to be a professional eater in Tokyo but the real pros are the bugs. And apparently blond meat is a delicacy.
It's official. I am definitely losing the bug war. Oh believe me it's not without a valiant fight. I went to the drug store. I stared at the shelf for twenty minutes trying to discern which products were bug repellent versus post bug attack remedy. It's really hard when everything is in Japanese. I thought they might have OFF, which I'd be able to recognize even with Japanese writing. But no such luck. They had a multitude of products with pictures of pained faces and mosquitoes. I bought several, took them home and applied them religiously. All I did was slow the little bastards down.
Russell says, "how do they get in the house". I'm thinking it's the Ranger Express. I let him out. His barking announces "all aboard!" and the bastards come riding in on the furry chariot. Speaking of fur. They never bother Russell. I'm assuming it's because they can't get past his shaggy coat. He is a hairy fellow. And I'm fur free.
Mosquitos have always preferred me for some reason. It doesn't seem to matter where we go. When we went on vacation to Key West last year I came back looking like I had the chicken pox. Plus they have those "no see-ums" there, teeny tiny little biting nightmares that you can't see. They swarmed around me like a shadow. We didn't eat outside after that. I'm never going back to Florida!
In California we don't really have bugs. Butterflies yes. The seasonal June bug which are more decorative then annoying. And the occasional mosquito. But here in Tokyo they have all kinds of mosquitos. Big ones, little ones, medium ones. And they all bite. The size of the bite varies with the mosquito so at least the red pocks on my legs have variety. The itch is the same regardless. My legs aren't the only place either. They just seem to prefer the soft, fleshy, hot area behind my knees. Plus it makes it harder to catch the little bastards in action. I have a bite under each arm. I even have a bite on my chin. Come on now! There are certain areas that should be off limits. Apparently these bugs didn't get the memo.
It's official. I am definitely losing the bug war. Oh believe me it's not without a valiant fight. I went to the drug store. I stared at the shelf for twenty minutes trying to discern which products were bug repellent versus post bug attack remedy. It's really hard when everything is in Japanese. I thought they might have OFF, which I'd be able to recognize even with Japanese writing. But no such luck. They had a multitude of products with pictures of pained faces and mosquitoes. I bought several, took them home and applied them religiously. All I did was slow the little bastards down.
Russell says, "how do they get in the house". I'm thinking it's the Ranger Express. I let him out. His barking announces "all aboard!" and the bastards come riding in on the furry chariot. Speaking of fur. They never bother Russell. I'm assuming it's because they can't get past his shaggy coat. He is a hairy fellow. And I'm fur free.
Mosquitos have always preferred me for some reason. It doesn't seem to matter where we go. When we went on vacation to Key West last year I came back looking like I had the chicken pox. Plus they have those "no see-ums" there, teeny tiny little biting nightmares that you can't see. They swarmed around me like a shadow. We didn't eat outside after that. I'm never going back to Florida!
In California we don't really have bugs. Butterflies yes. The seasonal June bug which are more decorative then annoying. And the occasional mosquito. But here in Tokyo they have all kinds of mosquitos. Big ones, little ones, medium ones. And they all bite. The size of the bite varies with the mosquito so at least the red pocks on my legs have variety. The itch is the same regardless. My legs aren't the only place either. They just seem to prefer the soft, fleshy, hot area behind my knees. Plus it makes it harder to catch the little bastards in action. I have a bite under each arm. I even have a bite on my chin. Come on now! There are certain areas that should be off limits. Apparently these bugs didn't get the memo.
Eating Good in the Hood
I am continually delighted and surprised, not necessarily in that order, at the quality of food here. Whether it's buying museum quality produce at the grocery store, or just discovering yet again, another you gotta be kidding me this is so good, restaurant in walking distance from our apartment.
Granted Tokyo boasts more Michelin starred restaurants than Paris and London combined. Put that in your pan and saute it! Tokyo is indisputably an eaters paradise. And since I am a confessed professional eater - it is a great city for me. How do these people stay so thin? Oh yeah, it's the portions and the cost. Tokyo is the, wait for it, second most expensive city in the world. What?! Second?! This year Luanda, Angola (it's in Africa...I didn't know that either) beat out Tokyo to become the most expensive city in the world. Seriously. Thankfully Luanda is not high on my list to visit. Ever.
The thing is... Tokyo is not just good for fresh fish, sushi and teppanyaki. They do French better than the French, (I'm serious) and Italian better than, well, Italians. They even do McDonalds better. Yes, even McDonalds taste better here. Not quite three times as better, like the cost. But then it's hard to perfect the taste of a quarter pounder with cheese when you were weaned on it. Damn, but their french fries are good in any country.
Listed below are some of my favorite restaurants in or near our neighborhood Minami-Azabu.
La Cigogne - Tarte Flambee
We discovered this little gem as we walked by it on the way to the bus stop. A little French bistro on a residential side street that cooks up big flavor on hand made tarts. They're really more like mini oval shaped pizza's. But the toppings are crazy good. Things like bacon, shallots and arugula with mango, an unexpected yet unforgettable combination. They also do an excellent pan roasted chicken. But don't short yourself, share a tart and an entree with someone you like and save room for dessert cause they're good too.
http://r.tabelog.com/tokyo/A1307/A130703/13121236/
Restaurant Okada - my absolute favorite in the neighborhood
This is a tiny French style restaurant off the old Hiroo shopping street. It's easy to walk right by as you have to descend a couple of stairs to get to it. Be prepared to descend into heaven. What I like about this place is pretty much everything. It's quaint and homey. You almost feel like you've been invited to the chef's house because there's only three people working. The chef Hiroshi Okada, his assistant and Shinya the director, aka, waiter/bartender/greeter/manager. Everyone's friendly and warm and will even take a minute to get to know you. For the quality of the food I'd expect to pay a lot more money. So it's a great value. The chef is very imaginative and there's always something astonishing on the menu. But before you even get to today's courses they bring you a baby ramekin of the house made pate which is only slightly less sinful than the kill me now block of homemade brioche! Holler! This bread will make you speak in tongues. They have a good selection of French wines by the glass here. It's almost better to go bottle-less and mix and match glasses to your courses, unless there's four of you.
I have had the most amazing dinners here, roasted rabbit, giant oyster appetizer, sauteed calamari salad, sea bass carpaccio with grapefruit. Really, really good. I could eat here every week and be really happy, especially if I can convince Okada-san to allow me to bring a few bottles of my own wine in. Corkage is a term restaurants here don't seem too be familiar with. Next time I go, I promised to bring him a bottle of California red. So that's a start. Did I mention the food is really, really good? But make a reservation because the place is small. When Russell's out of town I like to sit at one of two spots at the counter. This way I can watch Hiroshi cook while sipping wine.
www.restaurantokada.com
Blue Point
A short bike ride away, in the adjacent neighborhood of pretty Shirokane, is a sophisticated bistro called Blue Point. It reminds me of those upscale, urbane eateries in Gramercy Park, New York, except the food it much better. The lunch there is superb and a great value.
Incidentally, did you know that Shirokane was named after a rich guy who lived there during the 13th century. His nickname was "Shirokane Choja" which apparently means "man with a lotta coin" - nice. The street is lined with beautiful trees and flanked by forested areas, yes forested, which are owned by academic and private companies, such as the Institute for Nature Study and the Institute of Medical Science. Together these grounds form one of the largest "green" districts in Tokyo. (Thanks Wikipedia.) The green areas trace back to mansions which existed during the Edo period.
Granted Tokyo boasts more Michelin starred restaurants than Paris and London combined. Put that in your pan and saute it! Tokyo is indisputably an eaters paradise. And since I am a confessed professional eater - it is a great city for me. How do these people stay so thin? Oh yeah, it's the portions and the cost. Tokyo is the, wait for it, second most expensive city in the world. What?! Second?! This year Luanda, Angola (it's in Africa...I didn't know that either) beat out Tokyo to become the most expensive city in the world. Seriously. Thankfully Luanda is not high on my list to visit. Ever.
The thing is... Tokyo is not just good for fresh fish, sushi and teppanyaki. They do French better than the French, (I'm serious) and Italian better than, well, Italians. They even do McDonalds better. Yes, even McDonalds taste better here. Not quite three times as better, like the cost. But then it's hard to perfect the taste of a quarter pounder with cheese when you were weaned on it. Damn, but their french fries are good in any country.
Listed below are some of my favorite restaurants in or near our neighborhood Minami-Azabu.
La Cigogne - Tarte Flambee
We discovered this little gem as we walked by it on the way to the bus stop. A little French bistro on a residential side street that cooks up big flavor on hand made tarts. They're really more like mini oval shaped pizza's. But the toppings are crazy good. Things like bacon, shallots and arugula with mango, an unexpected yet unforgettable combination. They also do an excellent pan roasted chicken. But don't short yourself, share a tart and an entree with someone you like and save room for dessert cause they're good too.
http://r.tabelog.com/tokyo/A1307/A130703/13121236/
Restaurant Okada - my absolute favorite in the neighborhood
This is a tiny French style restaurant off the old Hiroo shopping street. It's easy to walk right by as you have to descend a couple of stairs to get to it. Be prepared to descend into heaven. What I like about this place is pretty much everything. It's quaint and homey. You almost feel like you've been invited to the chef's house because there's only three people working. The chef Hiroshi Okada, his assistant and Shinya the director, aka, waiter/bartender/greeter/manager. Everyone's friendly and warm and will even take a minute to get to know you. For the quality of the food I'd expect to pay a lot more money. So it's a great value. The chef is very imaginative and there's always something astonishing on the menu. But before you even get to today's courses they bring you a baby ramekin of the house made pate which is only slightly less sinful than the kill me now block of homemade brioche! Holler! This bread will make you speak in tongues. They have a good selection of French wines by the glass here. It's almost better to go bottle-less and mix and match glasses to your courses, unless there's four of you.
I have had the most amazing dinners here, roasted rabbit, giant oyster appetizer, sauteed calamari salad, sea bass carpaccio with grapefruit. Really, really good. I could eat here every week and be really happy, especially if I can convince Okada-san to allow me to bring a few bottles of my own wine in. Corkage is a term restaurants here don't seem too be familiar with. Next time I go, I promised to bring him a bottle of California red. So that's a start. Did I mention the food is really, really good? But make a reservation because the place is small. When Russell's out of town I like to sit at one of two spots at the counter. This way I can watch Hiroshi cook while sipping wine.
www.restaurantokada.com
Blue Point
A short bike ride away, in the adjacent neighborhood of pretty Shirokane, is a sophisticated bistro called Blue Point. It reminds me of those upscale, urbane eateries in Gramercy Park, New York, except the food it much better. The lunch there is superb and a great value.
I've decided that's one of the secrets about eating in Tokyo. Dinners are ludicrously expensive but lunches are a steal, comparatively. So once you discover that over the top fabulous restaurant, check if it's open for lunch. If it is, it's probably a fraction of the dinner price and just as good.
When Russell and I were first starting out and had no money, during the "Wager Surprise" days, a cheap concoction of rice, hamburger and assorted vegetables guaranteed to make leftovers for at least two nights and best served with box wine, we used to eat dinner at home. But after dinner we would get all dressed up and go to the most exalted restaurants in town for two glasses of champagne and dessert. This was a truly inspired, brilliant, dare I say, genius plan. Did I mention I thought of it? This was back when Russell made me live in Dallas, Texas for four years. Surprisingly Dallas ranks in the top five of cities with the most restaurants per capita in the U.S. That's because all there is to do in Dallas is eat and shop. So places like the Mansion at Turtle Creek, The Rivera (tragically now defunct but once home of the best creme brulee ever!), the French Room at the Adolfus hotel, were all ours. We were in our twenties and couldn't afford new shoes but we could say we had eaten at the best restaurants in town. And it's a lot easier to get a reservation for 9:30 than 8p.
So yeah, back to Blue Point in Shirokane-dai. The pre-fixe special is a great deal and you'll feel classy sitting in or outside watching the "well-heeled" crowd, and I'm talking about dogs, walk by. Besides Blue Point there are other quaint side walk cafes, cute and fashionable boutique shops like the "Barkery" (accessories for purse pups). But I like to call it "Weddinghood" because it seems like every other building is a wedding reception establishment.
Incidentally, did you know that Shirokane was named after a rich guy who lived there during the 13th century. His nickname was "Shirokane Choja" which apparently means "man with a lotta coin" - nice. The street is lined with beautiful trees and flanked by forested areas, yes forested, which are owned by academic and private companies, such as the Institute for Nature Study and the Institute of Medical Science. Together these grounds form one of the largest "green" districts in Tokyo. (Thanks Wikipedia.) The green areas trace back to mansions which existed during the Edo period.
So apparently it's been an upscale neighborhood since the sixteenth century, which is nice.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Dog's With Fancy Pants
Saturday we decided to head up to Roppongi to go to the movies and see Thor. The movie was highly entertaining: spectacular set design, cool costumes, great sound, and it was in 3D. My only criticism - Thor doesn't take his shirt off enough. I may need to buy a poster.
But before the movie we had a little time to peruse some of the shops and ran across this humdinger. Yes, I said humdinger. How else can you describe Joker's, a multi dimensional capitalism feast of goods and services targeted to the discerning dog owner and their pampered canine.
I didn't take any pictures but adjacent to the fashion boutique/state of the art grooming facility/puppy pet and kennel is the Joker cafe. I don't know about you but my dog is always hungry after an afternoon of spa and shopping. Isn't everyone?
But before the movie we had a little time to peruse some of the shops and ran across this humdinger. Yes, I said humdinger. How else can you describe Joker's, a multi dimensional capitalism feast of goods and services targeted to the discerning dog owner and their pampered canine.
First there was the puppy pit and kennel.
Or as they call it "Hotel & Doggie Cloak"
Even I was tempted to buy a small dog.
Just look at that face!
Hey, the dog groomers have a nicer bath tub than I do!
A couple of customers getting the "Joker" treatment.
Yes and after my spa treatment I'd like Perrier
served with a lamb and rice biscuit.
You missed a spot.
The prices are as startling as the merchandise.
$250 to stay the night. $6,000 for a bull dog puppy.
Does the room come with a dog butler and one
of these gem studded dog bowls?
Just look at the accessory collection!
I think Russell should have this "Fashion Gentlemen" dog leash.
Yes it really says that on the label.
And now your dog can have better jewelry than you do.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Shiny New Objects
Friday night, after much cajoling, Russell convinced me to go to the Kenzo Estate 1-year Anniversary party. Kenzo Estate is a winery owned by Kenzo Tsujimoto who is the chairman and CEO of CAPCOM a $66 billion dollar gaming company who makes Resident Evil for one. I guess the winery is a side project.
A year ago on our first trip to Japan we stumbled across this newly opened wine tasting room within walking distance of an apartment we were considering moving into. That day had been crushingly hot and the air conditioned, non-smoking establishment, with the added seduction of wine, was a welcomed respite from our canvasing of the potential neighborhood. We enjoyed a very small plate of very tasty cheese with some strikingly delicious wine, served in minute pours in Riedel glasses, from unbelievably, the Napa Valley. I took this as a sign that this apartment was obviously the right choice for us.
And here a year later, that same wine tasting establishment, the very one in walking distance from our apartment, was hosting a party to commemorate their one year anniversary. At first I balked. Well, actually I kind of whined. You see this weekend is 4th of July weekend. I know it doesn't mean anything here. But I was feeling kind of melancholy. Back in L.A. 4th of July is a big deal for us. It's America's Independence day, and more personally, it's Lobster Fest. For almost ten years we've hosted Lobster Fest on the 4th of July. We fly in Lobsters from Maine for a group of our friends. The boys steam them and grill corn on cob, while the girls drink. Then after dinner, we all go out on our boat to watch the fireworks shimmer off Los Alamitos bay.
This will be the first time we haven't done that and I was feeling kind of sad. The last thing I wanted to do was go to some over-priced, pretentious wine function where our $225 entry fee would buy us five pours that eventually equate to one glass, where guests would flock like crows on road kill for the few morsels of passed hors d'oeuvres, and where above all, we would be the only expats in a sea of unfriendly locals, or worse, in a sea of pretentious, unfriendly expats.
But finally I succumbed, after all it was in walking distance, and I did make Russell swear he would take me out for some real food and a lot more wine if we didn't get enough. I rationalized, I guess the good news is, since we don't speak the language, we wouldn't have to endure the insufferable "wine connoisseur". There's always one of those in every wine crowd. You know the guy, affected and opinionated, who thinks they know everything about wine and looks down their nose at you if you admit to liking, gulp, merlot. That is... if you can get a word in edgewise. That's why Russell and I have adopted the "wine enthusiast" axiom, not the "connoisseur" idiom. For God sakes we started out drinking box wine and we still have friends who remember.
We had an amazing time at the party.
There were about one hundred people there and they were all Japanese, except for us. We got there early, before the actual party had begun. This enabled us to get the few seats in the room, next to the VIP section. The wine started flowing. They served their rose first. It was refreshing enough to make you crave more. Soon my glass was empty and I was giving Russell that I-told-you-we-wouldn't-get- enough-wine look, when the exceedingly nice lady who greeted us and took our money at the front door, came over to pour us another glass. Now, we're getting somewhere.
A half hour later there was a toast. More rose was poured. We couldn't understand a word of the speech until the end when he said, "kampai!". For some reason we seem to know every country's word for "drink up". By this time all the seats had been filled except one on each side of us. Why is this always the case. Do we smell funny? I suggested Russell move over to the empty seat on my right so the couple next to us could both sit down.
This random act of kindness and the fact the sauvignon blanc was being poured must have been the turning point for soon we were having a pleasant conversation with the couple we gave the empty seat to. Turns out the wife is a senior sommelier and has traveled the world extensively in pursuit of the grape. We discussed several of our favorite wine destinations. She had been to all the wine regions we had and more. She had even visited the tiny family owned boutique champagnery, Tarlant, in Champagne, France. How amazing is that?! She even remembered their little dog.
The husband was exceedingly droll and kept peppering the conversation with sardonic quips. After an hour of wine talk he leaned over chummily and told me his wife is quite drunk and won't remember anything tomorrow. He pointed out she's a sommelier but can't handle her liquor - he seemed quite amused with this contradiction. She must have been more than just a senior sommelier because the paid photographer took her picture and when the man himself, Mr. Kenzo Tsujimoto and his wife showed up, they went right up to her like they knew her and she was beneficent enough to introduce us. We were very flattered and just a little intimidated. Mr. Kenzo and his wife were so gracious to us. They had literally just arrived from the airport after flying in from California and it was Mrs. Kenzo's birthday. I felt like an honored guest even though they must have been thinking, who let these gaijin in here? Mr. Kenzo noticed my glass was empty, nodded to a hovering staff member, and instantly I had more wine. It's nice to be a billionaire.
Too soon, however, our sommelier friend had to go. Turns out they had dinner reservations at Appia restaurant nearby. Another coincidence; we had just gone by there earlier that day and thought about making a reservation. How strange would that have been? We would have looked like stalkers. As they said their farewells they handed us a bag with a bottle of Kenzo Estate wine in it. We couldn't believe it. How nice! We didn't know what to say other than let's get together soon. They were great fun. For the first time since coming to Japan I actually met somebody I really liked and wanted to see again.
I don't know if it was because Mr. Kenzo himself had talked to us or because the guests were on their third or fourth glass of wine but after that we met a lot of people. We felt like the shiny new object in the room. Russell ended up talking to a young woman and her husband who work in television, while I met a baker. A baker!
Not only was he a baker, but his bakeries are "American style" designed after Amish baking. Amish? This was growing more surreal by the minute. How many glasses had I had? "I'm sorry did you say you make Amish brownies", I stammered? He explained how he had lived with an Amish family for a few days in order to learn how to bake like them. I thought he was teasing me. I don't know any American's who can say that, much less Japanese. And I don't know what an Amish style brownie is either but I'm definitely willing to try one. That and his nectarine pie.
After the baker, I started a conversation with a Japanese woman about her dress which I liked. We got to talking and soon discovered she works for the Bellagio resort in Las Vegas. She introduced us to one of her clients, a very successful corporate construction guy with a penchant for fine wine. Apparently he builds shopping centers. When I commented that Kenzo Estate's wine maker was also the wine maker for "Screaming Eagle, he nonchalantly mentioned he had several bottles and we should open a bottle together some time. I almost fainted. OK! Really??! Can we go now?! And I thought the baker was teasing me with Amish brownies. Screaming Eagle?! WOW. His friend from MGM backed him up. "Oh yeah, he's got a lot of wine." And I have a lot of jewelry but nothing from Harry Winston.
The construction guy was actually really nice. When I commented on the fan he was using to cool himself off, he gave it to me. He wouldn't take it back so in return I gave him one of the two mood rings I was wearing. I didn't know what else to do. What is the deal with giving gifts to total strangers? The only gift Russell and I want is to make some friends here.
Russell and I left the party ecstatically happy. Finally we had met some people we really liked, who seemed to have a lot in common with us, aside from owning a winery or bakeries or building multi-million dollar malls in Vegas. They all seemed to be wine enthusiasts like us and seemed interested in seeing us again. I felt I should manage our expectations and heed the warning one of my friends had given me before I moved to Tokyo. He said to be wary of the "shiny new object syndrome".
He warned, we may be befriended by a Japanese person, courted intensely and then dropped like a hot potato just when we thought we were really friends. Apparently fans are a lot cheaper than friendship.
We'll see. I just sent invitations to everyone we met. Well except for Kenzo.
A year ago on our first trip to Japan we stumbled across this newly opened wine tasting room within walking distance of an apartment we were considering moving into. That day had been crushingly hot and the air conditioned, non-smoking establishment, with the added seduction of wine, was a welcomed respite from our canvasing of the potential neighborhood. We enjoyed a very small plate of very tasty cheese with some strikingly delicious wine, served in minute pours in Riedel glasses, from unbelievably, the Napa Valley. I took this as a sign that this apartment was obviously the right choice for us.
And here a year later, that same wine tasting establishment, the very one in walking distance from our apartment, was hosting a party to commemorate their one year anniversary. At first I balked. Well, actually I kind of whined. You see this weekend is 4th of July weekend. I know it doesn't mean anything here. But I was feeling kind of melancholy. Back in L.A. 4th of July is a big deal for us. It's America's Independence day, and more personally, it's Lobster Fest. For almost ten years we've hosted Lobster Fest on the 4th of July. We fly in Lobsters from Maine for a group of our friends. The boys steam them and grill corn on cob, while the girls drink. Then after dinner, we all go out on our boat to watch the fireworks shimmer off Los Alamitos bay.
This will be the first time we haven't done that and I was feeling kind of sad. The last thing I wanted to do was go to some over-priced, pretentious wine function where our $225 entry fee would buy us five pours that eventually equate to one glass, where guests would flock like crows on road kill for the few morsels of passed hors d'oeuvres, and where above all, we would be the only expats in a sea of unfriendly locals, or worse, in a sea of pretentious, unfriendly expats.
But finally I succumbed, after all it was in walking distance, and I did make Russell swear he would take me out for some real food and a lot more wine if we didn't get enough. I rationalized, I guess the good news is, since we don't speak the language, we wouldn't have to endure the insufferable "wine connoisseur". There's always one of those in every wine crowd. You know the guy, affected and opinionated, who thinks they know everything about wine and looks down their nose at you if you admit to liking, gulp, merlot. That is... if you can get a word in edgewise. That's why Russell and I have adopted the "wine enthusiast" axiom, not the "connoisseur" idiom. For God sakes we started out drinking box wine and we still have friends who remember.
We had an amazing time at the party.
There were about one hundred people there and they were all Japanese, except for us. We got there early, before the actual party had begun. This enabled us to get the few seats in the room, next to the VIP section. The wine started flowing. They served their rose first. It was refreshing enough to make you crave more. Soon my glass was empty and I was giving Russell that I-told-you-we-wouldn't-get- enough-wine look, when the exceedingly nice lady who greeted us and took our money at the front door, came over to pour us another glass. Now, we're getting somewhere.
A half hour later there was a toast. More rose was poured. We couldn't understand a word of the speech until the end when he said, "kampai!". For some reason we seem to know every country's word for "drink up". By this time all the seats had been filled except one on each side of us. Why is this always the case. Do we smell funny? I suggested Russell move over to the empty seat on my right so the couple next to us could both sit down.
This random act of kindness and the fact the sauvignon blanc was being poured must have been the turning point for soon we were having a pleasant conversation with the couple we gave the empty seat to. Turns out the wife is a senior sommelier and has traveled the world extensively in pursuit of the grape. We discussed several of our favorite wine destinations. She had been to all the wine regions we had and more. She had even visited the tiny family owned boutique champagnery, Tarlant, in Champagne, France. How amazing is that?! She even remembered their little dog.
The husband was exceedingly droll and kept peppering the conversation with sardonic quips. After an hour of wine talk he leaned over chummily and told me his wife is quite drunk and won't remember anything tomorrow. He pointed out she's a sommelier but can't handle her liquor - he seemed quite amused with this contradiction. She must have been more than just a senior sommelier because the paid photographer took her picture and when the man himself, Mr. Kenzo Tsujimoto and his wife showed up, they went right up to her like they knew her and she was beneficent enough to introduce us. We were very flattered and just a little intimidated. Mr. Kenzo and his wife were so gracious to us. They had literally just arrived from the airport after flying in from California and it was Mrs. Kenzo's birthday. I felt like an honored guest even though they must have been thinking, who let these gaijin in here? Mr. Kenzo noticed my glass was empty, nodded to a hovering staff member, and instantly I had more wine. It's nice to be a billionaire.
Too soon, however, our sommelier friend had to go. Turns out they had dinner reservations at Appia restaurant nearby. Another coincidence; we had just gone by there earlier that day and thought about making a reservation. How strange would that have been? We would have looked like stalkers. As they said their farewells they handed us a bag with a bottle of Kenzo Estate wine in it. We couldn't believe it. How nice! We didn't know what to say other than let's get together soon. They were great fun. For the first time since coming to Japan I actually met somebody I really liked and wanted to see again.
I don't know if it was because Mr. Kenzo himself had talked to us or because the guests were on their third or fourth glass of wine but after that we met a lot of people. We felt like the shiny new object in the room. Russell ended up talking to a young woman and her husband who work in television, while I met a baker. A baker!
Not only was he a baker, but his bakeries are "American style" designed after Amish baking. Amish? This was growing more surreal by the minute. How many glasses had I had? "I'm sorry did you say you make Amish brownies", I stammered? He explained how he had lived with an Amish family for a few days in order to learn how to bake like them. I thought he was teasing me. I don't know any American's who can say that, much less Japanese. And I don't know what an Amish style brownie is either but I'm definitely willing to try one. That and his nectarine pie.
After the baker, I started a conversation with a Japanese woman about her dress which I liked. We got to talking and soon discovered she works for the Bellagio resort in Las Vegas. She introduced us to one of her clients, a very successful corporate construction guy with a penchant for fine wine. Apparently he builds shopping centers. When I commented that Kenzo Estate's wine maker was also the wine maker for "Screaming Eagle, he nonchalantly mentioned he had several bottles and we should open a bottle together some time. I almost fainted. OK! Really??! Can we go now?! And I thought the baker was teasing me with Amish brownies. Screaming Eagle?! WOW. His friend from MGM backed him up. "Oh yeah, he's got a lot of wine." And I have a lot of jewelry but nothing from Harry Winston.
The construction guy was actually really nice. When I commented on the fan he was using to cool himself off, he gave it to me. He wouldn't take it back so in return I gave him one of the two mood rings I was wearing. I didn't know what else to do. What is the deal with giving gifts to total strangers? The only gift Russell and I want is to make some friends here.
Russell and I left the party ecstatically happy. Finally we had met some people we really liked, who seemed to have a lot in common with us, aside from owning a winery or bakeries or building multi-million dollar malls in Vegas. They all seemed to be wine enthusiasts like us and seemed interested in seeing us again. I felt I should manage our expectations and heed the warning one of my friends had given me before I moved to Tokyo. He said to be wary of the "shiny new object syndrome".
He warned, we may be befriended by a Japanese person, courted intensely and then dropped like a hot potato just when we thought we were really friends. Apparently fans are a lot cheaper than friendship.
We'll see. I just sent invitations to everyone we met. Well except for Kenzo.
Congratulatory flowers in front of the shop.
More flowers.
Bottles of wine on display,.
More flowers.
The chairman and the enthusiast.
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