Kichijoji - Japanese Housewives Neighborhood of Choice?

The tour was touted as "Kichijoji the Japanese Housewives' Neighborhood of Choice."   It sounded intriguing or at least like an interesting reality series.  I had to check it out.  What do Japanese housewives want? Fresh produce?  Cool shops?  Young, virile gardeners?

When we arrived in Kichijoji the streets were empty.  Well except for Starbucks of course.  It was around 10am and my first impression wasn't enriching.  I asked our guide, so what do you mean Kichijoji is the neighborhood of choice for Japanese housewives?  She just smiled and said you'll see.

But I didn't see.  Sure the houses I saw from the train as we made our approach to Kichijoji station were larger than those in central Tokyo.  It is a suburb after all.  And yeah, there seemed to be a lot of green around, which is nice.  But I wasn't really seeing the big draw.

Turns out Japanese housewives want...wait for it...a big park?  We spent the majority of our time walking around Inokashira Park.

The park was nice.  Actually very nice.  I must come back during Cherry Blossom Season I thought.  It had a pretty shrine, an athletic field and a famous Anime museum called the Ghibili Museum, which we didn't go into.   Apparently Ghibili is thee studio for Anime and has a contract for distribution through Disney. If I knew anything about Anime I would know this.  If we had kids this would definitely be a place to come back to.

We ate lunch at a Thai restaurant in the park.  The weather was so nice and the food was great.  The set menu was a good deal.

After lunch we walked back through the park towards the station.  The streets, which in the morning had been so empty, were now crowded with sidewalk merchandise and hoardes of housewives shopping.  Ok, now I get it.  There were lots of interesting little shops, with friendly vendors, inviting us in.  She lead us to a large no-vehicles-allowed shopping street.  Our guide explained that most of the vendors have been there for years and the citizens of the town get to know each of them personally.

She, apparently knew one vendor in particular whom owns a tea shop call Ocharaka.  He was French.  He had samples of his tea waiting for us when we arrived.  The thing about his tea shop, unlike other Japanese tea shops, is that he adds other flavors to his tea.  I'm thinking, what's the big deal? They do that all the time in America.  But apparently that is a big deal.  Japanese tea makers do not add ANYTHING to their tea.  Period.

But this guy, did I mention he was French, named Stephan no less, explained how he is a sommelier and wanted to apply his sommelier finesse to tea.  Ok, I'll bite.  Um, I mean drink.  His staff passed around more samples as we all settled in, drawn by the romantic tilt of his oh-so-French accent.  "You were saying...oh yes, tea.....go on." Sigh.

Apparently his tea is so well regarded it's endorsed by the Japanese government in an effort to increase tea exports.  When he brought around his newly minted special Christmas blend we were all smitten and couldn't get our pocketbooks out fast enough.

http://www.ocharaka.co.jp/e_concept.html

The tour concluded there but our imaginations didn't.  We all vowed to come back and Christmas shop.

Japanese housewife?

Starbucks - one of many.

Large expansive park.

I don't see any housewives.

But this reminds me of a record cover.

Pretty lake and bridge

Allegedly this path leads all the way back into Central Tokyo

Could be a good bike path or running route

Russell would love this.

You can rent these.

Pool, pond, pond would be good for you.

That wisteria must be gorgeous in the Spring.

Hmmm. Nice place for a picnic.

Praying mantis blending in unlike us 16 expat women.

Run for your lives!

I love turtles.

Pretty little bridge.

Natural well, which is the source of the stream.

View of the shrine across the lake.

Cistern at the shrine.

View of the park from the cistern.

Nice.

Shrine

Does this look like it would be an anime museum to you?

I was expecting something more high tech.

It looks like hobbits could live here.

Tori gates along the lake.

Hungry fish.

This lake water looks like art.

Everything sounds good with a French accent.

Go on, you were saying?....

His shop.

Jayne, aka Vanna White, passing around the tea with a flourish

Oh Joel What Have You Done?

Ever since the first time we came to Tokyo I have wanted to dine at Joel Robuchon in Ebisu Garden Place.  Not only is it one of the best restaurants in Tokyo with three Michelin stars, it's the kind of place where you can get away with wearing an evening gown, diamonds and real fur.  Call me pretentious but ever since I was poor white trash I have fantasized about wearing these things to a fancy restaurant.  I mean go big or go home, right?

Unfortunately, I didn't bring any formalwear to Tokyo.  But that didn't stop me from wearing a black cocktail dress and fancy jewelry to the restaurant for our 18th anniversary.  Our anniversary almost didn't happen.  Russell came home from work that Friday in severe pain.  He was hospitalized that night for a kidney stone.   They told him they wanted to keep him there till Monday.  "But we have reservations at Joel Robuchon's on Sunday. He can't be in the hospital till Monday!"  Thankfully Russell was released on Saturday morning and felt well enough to make our reservation on Sunday evening.  Like me, he was really looking forward to it too.

Who wouldn't want to go here?

It looks like a French chateaux.

The door to heaven?

Hey, nice shoes.

Yeah, I'm gonna need a staircase like this someday.

The dining room was over the top elegant. At least the walls were.  They were covered with ornate boiseries and crystals. Yes, I said crystals.  They must be Swarovski because the walls were protected by heavy plastic panels so you couldn't touch, or rather steal, them.  The table tops were quite another story.  They were surprisingly mundane and cheap looking.  Sure there were cut crystal glasses, decent silverware and an impressively large charger plate on the rather blase black table cloth.  But to my utter horror they used fake, F-A-K-E, candles and not even the expensive kind that flicker like the real thing.   Seriously?  In a beautiful place like this I expected shimmering candelabras emanating a romantic appetite inspiring glow.   It took me a glass of champagne to get over my shock.

I'm thinking of redoing our bedroom this way without the plastic wrap.

The surprisingly mediocre table setting.

I just couldn't stand to take a picture of the Dollar Store fake candle.

The handsome devil.

I overcame my disappointment when the mountain-o-butter came, under glass no less.  Wow.  Just give me a big spoon.  This stuff was so good, so creamy, it was like, um, butter.  Yum.

No thanks on the bread, just give me a bigger spoon.

The menu came and we negotiated over the three different pre fixe choices.  Hmmm should we go big or really really big?  Of course we picked the biggest one.  It was our Anniversary and we wanted to try as much as possible. Our first mistake.

Technically this would be two pages but they 

used bigger paper to accommodate all the courses

We expected the food and wine to be exalted.  We knew it would not be cheap.  We've been to French Laundry.  We get it.  But we didn't expect to be insulted.  I've seen a lot of tragically over-priced wine lists in my day but this one was seriously insulting.  I mean I could see it maybe being somewhat acceptable, even appreciated, during the 80s when conspicuous consumption was in.  But this is the, WTF do we call this decade, the 00s.  And in the 00s value is coveted.  

Of course the wine list should be amazing.  But monied people are generally smart, that's how they got money.  This list was abasing, a personal affront to any intelligent individual who knows anything about wine.  We refuse to pay five times (and I'm not exaggerating) the retail price for a bottle of anything! That's just stupid.  So Russell decided we would buy by the glass.  Mistake number two.

Russell's horror at discovering we have to 

mortgage our house to afford a bottle of wine here.

BTW, the wine list was on an iPad. 

Maybe that's why the wine was so expensive

But then the amuse bouche came and we forgot the wine list for a moment.  OMG!  The amuse bouche was caviar served in a caviar tin, with a layer of cream fraiche underneath.  Now we're talking!  This is what we expect from a restaurant of this caliber.  We couldn't stop smiling between bites.

Hello Kitty!  I mean Caviar.  

Can I keep the tin?

I thought, how are they going to top that?!  The next, first course, was sea urchin prepared three ways.  In America sea urchin is a disgusting slimy, down right inedible, let's face it, yucky, thing.  But in Japan and especially at Robuchon's it is ambrosia.   

Food of the gods, that is Japanese, prepared three ways.

1) with a coffee scented mash potato - heaven

           2) in a "maki" with couscous and cucumber - heaven

     3) with shrimp custard and fennel cream - heaven

After that, several courses came in a parade of exquisite textures and tastes, served imaginatively and ironically timed out so that we had to purchase a new glass of wine with each 1.5 course.  Hmmm. Are they doing that on purpose?

Chilled pumpkin soup

The crustacean platter 

Red Lobster eat your heart out!

That gold globe has crustacean in a spicy herb broth

Can I keep the bowl?

Gorgonzola custard served with mint marinated peeled grapes

and the bowl is pretty too.

Russell may need to start peeling grapes now

Wagyu Beef grilled and served with wasabe 

flavored spinach and seasonal veggies

Organic spelt wheat with Summer truffle finish

I am finished!

But somewhere between the crustacean platter and the Wagyu beef we started to fill very, very wrong.  We took turns excusing ourselves from the table.  Each absence growing longer and more panicked.  It was clear neither one of us were faring well at all.  Was it something we ate?  We had to leave.  

We asked for the check before any of the three, yes three, dessert courses showed up.  Not only were we forfeiting the multiple dessert courses, but the tea service and the petit fours.  But not just any tea and petit fours.  A guy rolls around a tea trolley with live tea plants which he actually snips at your table and brews the aromatic beverage right in front of you.  And the petit fours, the petit fours! Another guy comes around with a different trolley boasting over 100 kinds of petit fours for you to pick from.  We'd been admiring them all night.  Well until we started to feel so retched.  

It took twenty minutes to get the check.  We were dying.   Funny how glass after glass of wine showed up before our lips took the last drag from the previous glass.  But we couldn't get the check to save our lives and at about that time, that's kind of what it felt like.  We were so ill.

You would of thought a classy establishment like this would have taken something off the tab since we missed a significant part of the menu.  But to our astonishment not one gesture was made to acknowledge the fact we were leaving without dessert or that we were sick.  They had to know, we were in the bathroom, more than we were at the table. Sure they gave us a goody bag which consisted of some cookies and a small loaf of bread.  But that did nothing to make us feel good about spending more than we have ever spent on a meal in our lives.  I am too embarrassed to admit how much.

The congratulatory anniversary token they delivered with our check.

Is this what took twenty minutes?

Congratulations suckers!  You just spent more on 

this meal than a down payment on a Mercedes.

Just get us out of here!

We faked those smiles well.

Azabu Art Tour

So since I have pretty much exhausted all of the Frommer recommendations for things to do in Tokyo, I've started taking a few classes and tours.  The tours get me out of the apartment, and more importantly, out of my neighborhood.  I'm beginning to feel like a Manhattan Beach housewife.  Those women don't leave the South Bay except heavily medicated or provoked.  It's so easy to just stay in your own hood.  But Russell and I have always prided ourselves on getting out.  To the horror of others we would actually drive to the Valley for a good meal.  You would too for Boneyard Bistro.  Course we'd pretty much go anywhere for a good meal and wine.

Recently I took an art tour of Azabu Juban, an adjacent neighborhood to ours.  It wasn't what I thought it would be.  I imagined meandering from gallery to gallery, admiring original works by Japanese artists, perhaps buying a print, or painting, or two.  Don't get me wrong, it was certainly interesting.  It just wasn't what I thought it would be and I came home empty handed and a bit baffled.

There were a lot of us on the tour which made it hard to hear the soft spoken tour guide.  I prefer a more intimate group.  The first stop was the most interesting.  She took us to a little incense shop called Azabu Kogado.  We were treated to an overview of incense by the owner himself, Mr. Yamada, who is a seventh generation incense master.  He explained the history of incense in Japan and roughly described the ritualistic means in which incense is made and applied in tea ceremony and Japanese life.  This was deep.

Then he passed around a small smoking pot or "censer" for us to smell from.   The censer had to be held in a certain way, whiffed in a certain way and passed in, you guessed it, a certain way.  Man, there's a lot of rituals. The scent was subtle yet intoxicating, calming and mystical.  We were all in awe.  This ain't no chemically synthesized Pier One incense!   Then he passed around a piece of wood the incense originated from.  The wood is called Kyara and is worth more than its weight in gold.  It was fascinating.  I made a mental note to come back and buy some of this fantastic stuff.

Mr. Yamada and his bag of smelly goodies.

Our tour guide looks on while Jayne holds the incense censer just right and takes a whiff.

The rest of us sit pensively and worry we'll drop it.

Next we went to a ceramic shop called Kaburaki, specializing in pieces from all over Japan.  I felt like a bull in a china shop, literally.  There were so many of us and the store was so tiny.  Rows of handmade ceramics were precariously perched on shelves, tables, sills.  This was not a place for American-sized women with even larger handbags.  Every shelf was layered with exquisite works of art, most hand made, hence the handmade prices.  The proprietor looked worried.  

I can't take Russell here. He'll want to buy an entire set of those handmade wine glasses.  Truth be told I was sorely tempted to buy a couple of hand painted sake cups.  They were exquisite.  But could I really rationalize spending $120 on one tiny sake cup even if it did have a dragon on it.   Hmmm - I was born in the year of the dragon.  This could be our anniversary gift we never bought ourselves this year.  I could buy it for Russell's birthday.  Christmas is coming.  We love sake!  The rational was bubbling out of me like angry ants from an anthill.  Apparently I could rationalize it.  I took some deep cleansing breaths and finally decided to abstain.  For now.  There was more to see on the tour I might need to buy.  I'll come back.

Lucky for Russell I am not a compulsive shopper.  I'm an irritating shopper which is why I generally shop alone.  I have to peruse all that is available and generally sit down and contemplate my purchase, usually over coffee, before I buy something.  This is why I like shopping with Russell.  He doesn't have the patience for this exhaustive shopping process.  He just makes me buy it.  Now.  If I linger over something he takes it away to the cash register and returns with it in a bag.  A man that insists you buy that pair of black shoes when he knows you already have five other pairs at home, now that man is a keeper.

Next we went to a kaleidoscope shop.  Wow - I never saw that coming.  How strange, how wonderful.

The place had every type of kaleidoscope you could imagine.  Even ones you can't imagine with intricate, amazing, dazzling patterns. They were addictive.  They made me feel dizzy.  There were giant kaleidoscopes that looked like telescopes and tiny, exquisite, kaleidoscopes that hang on your lapel or key chain.  I had no idea kaleidoscopes could be so amazing or so expensive!  And the kicker was most of them were made in the U.S.  Now, that's rich.

Kaleidoscope Shop - bring lots of cash

Then we hit an actual art gallery, Gallery Mona.  The gallery changes exhibits every seven to 10 days.  This day the gallery was exhibiting hand made bead work.  The artist was there demonstrating the beading process.  It was painstaking.  She had several pieces of her work on display, as well as, those of some of her students, mostly necklaces and purses.  The beads were so small the finished pieces looked like intricate needlepoint.

On the way to lunch we passed a flower shop that carries supplies for Ikebana.  Note to self - could be useful for the future.

Lunch was at Yasaiya Mei, a restaurant that specializes in vegetables. At first everyone was a bit distressed at the set menu choices.  The descriptions didn't sound too appetizing.  The ingredients didn't translate well.  Most people went for the safe choice of sauteed eggplant with noodles.  But the best choice was the deep fried daikon and ham.  I wish I had ordered that.  It looked like katsu - deep fried pork cutlets which are super yummy.  My choice wasn't bad.  I had the ginger chicken.  Like most Japanese restaurants, lunch was a great deal.

After lunch we went to a tenugui or towel shop called Asa no Ha Tenugui Shop.  Oh, that's what those things are, I realized as our guide explained how the tenugui or Japanese hand towel was used for everything from mopping up spilled tea, to sweat bands (note the famous sushi headband) to welcome banners and table runners.  You see them all over Japan but I had no idea what they were for.  The cheaper ones are mass produced; the more expensive ones printed one at a time from hand carved wood blocks.  The shop had a myriad of them in bright colors and patterns.  Some were framed.  It reminded me of the t-shirt shops on Bourbon Street in New Orleans but without the naughty slogans.

Our last stop was a very famous shop called Blue and White which specializes in, you guessed it, blue and white merchandise made from repurposed Japanese materials.  The woman proprietor, Amy Sylvester Katoh, is a beautiful, accomplished eclectic mature woman with high cheekbones and exotic jewelry.  She has lived in Japan for over 30 years and is a local celebrity and highly regarded designer.

/http://blueandwhitetokyo.com/about/

After the tour I was exhausted and empty handed.   Empty handed!  Clearly I have to go back.

Map of walking tour and sites we saw thanks to our tour guide Lara.

Azabu Art Tour Map

Thanksgiving and Back Again

We knew we weren't in Japan anymore when the airport shuttle bus we were on lurched to a complete stop, catapulting all 75 jet-lagged passengers, mostly Japanese, brutally forward. Bags dropped, grimaces were stifled and bodies collided violently, like shaking a box of Good and Plenty.  "Does this guy realize he actually has passengers on board? I grumbled" Russell explained, "It's L.A."  Me, "Oh right."

Poor Russell. He had just enough time to slow down to twenty miles an hour while I tucked and rolled out of the rental car and into the Ritz Carlton Marina del Rey.  Originally we weren't supposed to fly to L.A. until Tuesday but Russell's schedule changed to accommodate a rash of meetings the day before.  I couldn't believe Russell had enough energy to go directly from our nine hour flight from Tokyo, to a meeting with his clients.  By the time he got back to the hotel that night, he'd been up for almost 36 hours. That man has some skills.

Russell was in town for the L.A. Auto Show, and since it was the week before Thanksgiving we decided to make it our holiday home trip.  And since we wouldn't be coming back for Christmas, I decided to have Christmas early.  Clearly I love stress, and strive to create it wherever I go, as I decided this the weekend before we left for L.A.. Yeah, my decision made a lot of sense.   Try to squeeze in what usually takes two months worth of shopping and wrapping into two weeks.  Smart. This resulted in a fervor of last minute Christmas shopping and manic packing to ensure I had covered all our family and friends.

I decided this year's holiday theme would be Asian.  Shocking, I know. But I wanted to bring a little of our experiences home with us.  We purchased yukatas (Summer kimonos - aka robes), sake sets, Japanese candy and solar toys, chop sticks and various Asian bowls as gifts.   Aside from the six rolls of gorgeous washi paper I bought to wrap the yukatas, I decided to wait till we got to the U.S. so I could use Chinese take-out boxes for the rest of the gifts.  You can buy them for 79 cents at the Container Store, among other places.  A brilliant plan until I got there and discovered the washi paper rolls only covered one yukata each.  They were $6.00 a roll.  I just added another $6.00 to each gift which was already over budget. Holy shit!  Russell doesn't need to know.

The extra day was a blessing in disguise since there was no way in hell I would have had time to run around town purchasing wrapping paper, last minute gifts and actually wrap them.  All my days were booked solid with lunches and dinners so that we could see pretty much everybody we know in ten days.

With the help of my dear friend Lynn, I picked up my car, aka PLB (Pretty Little Bitch), at the storage place she'd been staying in Downey.  PLB was bitchy as expected.  I thought she might be a tad temperamental given she'd been neglected since May.  I mean she was staying in a nice place.  They kept a trickle charge on her, started her up once a week and made sure her tires had air and her fluids were topped off.  But noooooo.  This was not good enough for her and she expressed her dismay by refusing to hold a charge and not starting when I came to pick her up.  I had to spring for a new battery when the one she had was less than two years old.  I suddenly felt like a sugar daddy, placating my twenty year old mistress.  "Come on baby. You know I didn't mean it.  Here's a new diamond bracelet, now give me some sugar."

While Russell went to the Auto Show, I drove from Marina Del Rey to Westwood, then down to Costa Mesa and five stores in-between, before meeting my sister for dinner at Macaroni Grill in Long Beach.  Of course I had to stop at Juniors in Westwood for lunch, specifically for the best matzo ball soup ever!  Hey, it's medicinal.  For the past three days my body was threatening to catch a cold.  Which I kept ignoring because that usually works.

Russell eat your heart out. 

Only the best matzo ball soup and hashbrowns ever!!

Note the size of the portions.  

An entire meal would be served on that hashbrown plate in Japan.

See I told you it's medicinal.  

This is literally a copy of a prescription for Junior's chicken soup.

I practically fell asleep on the waiting bench of the Macaroni Grill until my sister showed up with two dozen roses and a warm hug.  Thanks I needed that, the hug, not the roses.  They were a bonus.

Nice.

Red for Love/yellow for friendship

Being the planning freak I am, I had actually created an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of our many appointments and to ensure we made it to all our favorite restaurants.

Like Border Grill for example.  Not surprisingly Mexican food and Karin and Tom were one of the first must do's on our list.  Over spicy cucumber and jalapeno margaritas we were reminded why, even though we don't talk for weeks, when we get together it's just like yesterday.  It's the banter.  It's goes something like this.  Tom said something he thought would be funny.  I don't laugh.  He points out that what he just said was supposed to be funny. I tell him I know but that particular comment was unusually un-amusing.  I helpfully suggest that in the future he raise his index finger prior to saying something funny so I know when to laugh.  The rest of the evening is punctuated by his finger, raised in warning that something, clearly funny, is about to happen.  This continues a week later when we see them again at another gathering.

The next night we meet Alan and Susan for some of the most exalted wine in California and the undisputed best chocolate cake ever.  Alan knows the manager at The Palm in Beverly Hills.  Not my favorite steak house like STK but it is when Alan and Susan are there.  The food is great, the wine amazing and the friendship enduring.  The manager is especially amusing.  It's uncanny how he shows up the second a new bottle is being opened, and brings "friends" (female and busty) to the table for a "taste."

During the days, I go hiking and lunching.  Wednesday is Nicole and Sage in Newport Beach's Back-Bay.  Thursday is Bruce at Javier's in Laguna.  It's overcast both days but I hardly notice.  Friday is a day-o-pain beginning with dentist appointments, then a mammogram (ouch) and just to top it off, an eyebrow wax in the afternoon.  Then we have to fly to Reno to see Russell's family.  I had to have a breakfast burrito at Hole Mole just to placate me.

But the pain continued.  Our flight to Reno was cancelled due to a fire, the largest in Reno's history.  So we ended up driving nine hours, yes nine hours, and still didn't make it because Donner Pass was closed because of snow. Instead we stayed the night at the Holiday Express in Sacramento.  The ironic thing is our rescheduled flight would have arrived in Reno the next day at 1:30 pm via Salt Lake City.  We actually arrived in Reno at 1pm via Sacramento.  I have to admit I really enjoyed the road trip even with the Holiday Inn Express simulated eggs and preservative enriched toast.  The next morning was like a car commercial.  We drove from a crisp Fall day colored with gold and crimson trees to Winter with mountains powdered with snow on Donner Pass.

Saturday night was better than expected.  Russell's entire family joined us for dinner at a nearby steakhouse.  Even the wine list was good.  The plates were embarrassingly large and the bill was surprisingly small by Tokyo standards.  Russell and I shared a wedge salad and a ribeye and felt like we got away with something.

Russell's parents rolled out the red carpet for us including a Christmas tree and our first Thanksgiving Turkey of the week.  Little did they know we had brought Christmas with us too.  It was like Santa had shown up when we put all the gifts for the family under their tree.  It was the best of both holidays.  It snowed when I went for a run in the morning.  Football played on the TV all day.  Russell's mom even made a chocolate cream pie, at least that's what she said it was, for Russell's upcoming birthday.  He was actually born on Thanksgiving day 46 years ago.  We were stuffed enough for both holidays.

Monday and Tuesday were Saatchi days - my old job.  I had lunch with Sam and then dinner and drinks with Gwen and Conrad.  It reminded me how much I miss them.

Wednesday I took my niece out for her, gulp, twentieth birthday which was November 8th.  Just think - next year she can drink!   Hmmm, what should I start her on?  White Zinfandel?  Riesling?  Or my first - the good stuff - Boones Farm Tickled Pink?  Do they even make that anymore?  We had a great day shopping and then had lunch at Open Sesame in Long Beach.  It was so amazing talking to her.  We covered the gamut from fashion, to politics, from boyfriend to God.   Fitting considering her boyfriend's name is Jesus.

That night our neighbors Geoff, Olga and their pretty little five year old, Avery, hosted us to a gigantic Salmon and a raucous game of WTF.  Look it up - it's raunchy fun.  Lynn and Greg brought heavenly homemade cheesecake which we had to share with the others.  Damn.   After dinner Karin and Tom and Susan and Alan joined us for some more revelry.

The next day was doctor appointments.  Ugh.  Then I met my old Wine Not club friends Caryn, Lisa and Gwen, at Terranea in Palos Verdes.  It was just like old times, stimulating, provocative conversation with amazing women.  We drank pinot noir overlooking the Pacific and watched the sun melt into a frothy pink and cobalt ocean.  Sublime.

I'll have another glass please.

Sigh.  

I was completely taken aback for what awaited me at my sisters house.  I told her not to fuss.  And truth be told I thought she was rather nonchalant about me coming.  But when I arrived she had transformed the guest room into a Dawn and Russell mecca.  Baskets of our favorite things awaited us:  Ding Dongs for Russell, cake pops she made herself, Starbucks instant coffee, pistachios, Cliff bars, Crystal Light, Pop tarts (cherry for Russell/cinnamon for me), not to mention, the coveted Sees Candies and Triscuits.  Mine!  My niece included a Starbucks gift card for me and Krispy Kreme donuts for Russell.  My nephew drew us a picture.  He's a great artist.

WOW!

Now that's a gift pack.

Double Wow!

We took them to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant from my childhood - the infamous Mario's - home of the best refried beans ever made, most likely still made with real lard.  I'm OK with that.  That's what tequila is for - cutting the fat.  But apparently it doesn't cure colds.  By that time I had a doozy.

The next day was Thanksgiving.  To my surprise my niece, her boyfriend Jesus, and my nephew Brandon, all got up early to run the Long Beach Turkey Trot with Russell and me.  There was a lot of trash talk in the car on the way over to the 8am race.  But in the end, even with a lousy cold, I finished first at 26:32, Russell second at 28 and change, followed by Brandon who was actually sweating (a first) at 31:58, and finally Jesus and Alyece.  Apparently Alyece had told Jesus they should walk across the finish line together hand in hand, although secretly she had every intention of sprinting ahead at the last minute.  To her surprise Jesus had the same plan and left her in the dust the last ten yards.  I stood at the finish line encouraging all of them to hustle, yelling enthusiastically "get that pie, get that pie".

Free pies are bestowed upon some of the finishers.  Several minutes were spent theorizing how this is determined.  I thought it was based on bib number.  Others speculated on attractiveness and thigh width.  Our neighbors Geoff and Olga were there too with the darling Avery.  "Get that pie Avery!!"  If anyone could get a pie - it would have been her.  But none of us got a pie.

Russell did spring for Starbucks and IHop.   Good man. I keep him a little while longer.  We counted the number of times Brandon said the word "like" over pancakes and eggs.  In spite of the vernacular it's been pretty spectacular to witness my nephew grow from a kid who did funny things, to a young adult with a great sense of humor, not counting the "likes."

As usual Dave, my brother-in-law, out did himself.  It's the smoked turkeys.  They get me every time.  Turkey was preceded by Christmas presents for the entire family.  They weren't expecting it, so it was especially nice to observe their reactions to the gifts.

Russell, preparing for Thanksgiving dinner.

And he says he doesn't like cats.

Uh huh.  That's one of my sister's five cats. Yes, five.

My favorite one - Tuck

The next day, after another trip to Open Sesame, we checked into the boutique Long Beach Hotel Avia. My grandmother used to say, guests, like fish, start to smell after three days.  We stayed at my sister's for four nights.  The hotel was nicer than we expected, especially given the reasonable price.

Since we would be on an airplane traveling back to Tokyo on Russell's actual birthday, I had planned some celebratory experiences for him.  Unlike Triscuits and See's candies like me, the thing Russell misses the most about California is going out on our Duffy boat.  So I rented one and we tooled around Los Alamitos Bay, admiring the newly minted Christmas lights.  Then we met our friends Eric and Deanna at Michael's, our favorite Italian restaurant in Long Beach for dinner.

Saturday was a whirlwind of shopping for things we need that we refuse to pay double for in Tokyo.
We had to buy an extra piece of luggage just to hold it all.  Best of all we got to eat at Marche Modern, my favorite restaurant for lunch in the South Coast Plaza.  I told you we were eating our way through the trip.

That night we had dinner at the newly redesigned home of some friends in Palos Verdes.  The drive across the bridges overlooking the ocean was spectacular as is their home.  It's amazing.  I'm jealous.  Lynn has excellent taste.  Dinner was Prime Beef and gargantuan shrimp.  We were flattered to be the honored guest of such an elegant meal.  Kristen and Ben brought her amazing buckeyes and fudge for dessert.  Heaven had arrived!!!  We couldn't believe the plate made it around the table twice.  Thankfully only Russell and I knew how good they are and were able to take what we wanted before the secret was out and the plate emptied.

After dinner, Christmas broke out again.  I loved watching our friends open their gifts.  I'm so glad we didn't ask them to wait until Christmas to open them like Russell wanted to do.  Even the kids seemed pleased with the Japanese candy, plastic Ninja stars, and solar operated pandas. I mean who doesn't want a solar operated panda?  Everyone donned their yukatas and chop sticks for a group picture.

Maybe they should raise those chopsticks up a bit higher.

Mike looks a little nervous.

And then it was our last day, which I had dedicated to Russell's birthday.  It started with a relaxation massage at Complexions, followed by lunch at Islands.  Hey, it was his call.  I suggested the Montage in Laguna Hills.  He's a simple man.   He wanted Island french fries.  Who could blame him - they are the best.  Our gusto was only momentarily suspended by the nutrition menu and the whopping 1,350 calories in a Maui burger.  We always shared that in the past, thinking we were being good.  We were mortified to discover that it's 675 calories per half, not counting the endless Island fries with a side of ranch and the compulsory strawberry daiquiri.  Holy shit - that's equivalent to the calories we eat in a week in Tokyo!   But then we thought - WTF - it's his birthday.  Just for fun we ordered dessert too - the Lava pie - 1,050 calories.  Hah!  We're living large - literally.

After lunch we waddled through the South Coast plaza to finish our shopping.  I bought Russell a black velvet jacket and a new G-shock watch for his birthday.  Lord, that man does look good in velvet.  He may seriously need an ascot now.

Our last dinner in the States was at The Hobbit in Orange of all places.  This place is Zagat rated the best restaurant in Orange County, which is not saying much. Any Californian will tell you Orange County is not known for its dining, unless you like chain restaurants.  We wanted to try it because of the "best" rating.  We were pleasantly surprised.  Turns out the Hobbit is a charming old house.  The meal starts in the wine cellar.  They serve reasonably good champagne and darn tasty appetizers while you peruse the impressive wine selection.  Pretty good marketing tactic I thought.  Better than scrutinizing a wine list.

The young and un-experienced staff serving the champagne was a bit haughty I thought.  After overhearing one of them rodomontade about the one bottle of Petrus they had in stock, I sauntered over and asked if they had any Screaming Eagle.  I was snottily rebuffed with, "we don't stock that over-priced swill."  Really?  I wasn't arguing.  I just wondered if they had it.

The dinner was delicious in spite of the somewhat pretentious staff.  I would expect the service to be accomplished given the price, but it wasn't like the restaurant was sophisticated.  Russell had to remind me it wasn't Tokyo.  Oh yeah.   Neither was the price tag - thankfully.

The multi-course dinner started with an amuse bouche of shrimp and smoked salmon, followed by a scrumptious pear and candied nut salad, encored by a rich soup.  Then there was a tasty quail course which rivaled the quail dish at Commander's Palace in New Orleans.   Next came intermission.  Novel idea.  This allowed the guests to visit the rest of the home, including the pre-war kitchen which made the meal even more amazing. The second half started with blackberry sorbet.  I'm in! Yummy.  Then there was the requisite beef filet and potato.  Dessert was forgettable but good.  All in all we were quite satisfied but I would go to STK next time, instead.

Pretty little table adornment next to their card.

Just in case we forget where we are I guess.

The next day, Russell's birthday, we got upgraded to first class on American.  I got my own pod!  I was ecstatic. Did you know you get regular size wine glasses and they serve you meals like you're in a fine restaurant?  Who knew.  The service was great!  Even so, I don't think it's worth the catastrophic price difference.  Business class is pretty nice.  Course I'd like to see if the difference is more dramatic on JAL, the airline we usually fly back and forth to Japan.  I mean,  American Airlines isn't what it used to be.

The next morning we woke up in our bed in Tokyo at 3:30 in the morning.  Ranger sneaked into bed with us.   We woke up again at 6:30 am and I made coffee.  It was overcast  as usual and at 8am the cacophonous  gaggle of kids could be heard heading to school.  It was as if the whirlwind trip home had never happened.  Well, except for the extra six pounds Russell discovered when he weighed himself that morning.  I'm too afraid to get on the scale.

Mike wearing his Christmas gift, wig and stache.

Kompai!

Ben and Kristen's girls trying out their chopsticks.

Impressive!