Hajimemashite! Watakushi wa Urusura desu

My mother always liked to tell me that I could do anything I set my mind to so it probably came as no surprise to her when, after graduating from university, I up and moved to Japan. 

My interest in Nippon had been growing steadily since the age of 13 when I tried my first piece of sushi. At the time, there weren’t Japanese restaurants on every street corner the way there are now. Back then, Chinese take-out was considered exotic.

1st photo in Tokyo; vending machines 

So my love of raw salmon translated into a love of everything Japanese and at the tender age of 22 I put everything I owned into storage, as many clothes as I could possibly fit into one suitcase, and I was off.

The ride to the airport, besides being uncomfortable because my parents were in the same car, was somber. “You know they light people on fire in China, don’t you?” asked my father over his shoulder as he drove.

At the airport, things got worse. My dad, who was wearing the shortest short shorts known to man, broke down into tears while my mom made me check my ticket and passport for the millionth time, “just to make sure they’re still there.”

“Okay, well… see you in a year,” I said jokingly as I crossed the line into the unknown.

cheesu!

So this was my new home; a one-bedroom apartment in Koshigaya, Japan. Nice kitchen, nice living room, interesting washroom (how does that work?).

The bedroom floor was traditional and covered in tatami mats. Little did I know that it was also covered in hundreds, or thousands, of mites. “Mom,” I cried on the phone a couple of days later, hysterical, “it’s awful. There are mites everywhere, even in my underwear drawer, and I can’t get rid of them.”

My mother always liked to tell me that Dettol took care of everything. Parachlorometaxylenol, or Dettol, is a cleaning solution so powerful it doesn’t need advertising. It just works.

In the case of mites, it’s absorbed through their skin before it kills them as a result of toxic shock.

While the mites were slowly dying I was going through my own version of shock; culture shock. The honeymoon phase of my time in Japan had come to an abrupt end and I was no longer amused by people pulling out my “yellow” hair for closer inspection. Similarly, Japanese housewives wearing teddy-bear themed aprons at the grocery store made me want to commit violent acts. I was now knee-deep in the rejection phase.

JET photo; blondinka much?

But as any “gaijin” knows, this too shall pass.

Halfway through my stint in Japan I hit my stride. I could speak the language relatively well, I had made a couple of great friends and I was really enjoying everything Japan had to offer. On weekends, I would set out with a long list of things to do and actually do them. 

spot the gaijin, aka me

This is when my mother decided it was time for a visit.

purikura

Both she and her Japanese friend Taeko stayed with me for a week in February. Taeko is the person who first introduced us to sushi in Montreal so it was a little surreal seeing her in my very own Japanese pad (definitely not maxi).

It was still pretty cold when they visited and my apartment didn’t have central heating. My mother was shocked. 

“Couldn’t we put this space heater closer to us?” she asked one night as she shivered uncontrollably in bed (this coming from the woman who always told me to be careful about literally everything). 

“We could but we’d probably catch on fire. What would dad think then?”

Friday five

I had the great pleasure of visiting a mecca of Asian food yesterday: T & T. For those of you who haven't yet had the pleasure of shopping at T & T, the country's largest Asian supermarket, let me explain: aisles and aisles of rice, noodles and hot sauces, the freshest produce around and of course, assorted guts!

Today's Friday five is all about my favourite Asian foods (and assorted guts, by the way, is most definitely not one of them). 

In fifth place is bibimbap, the Korean dish made with rice, vegetables, meat and an egg. I first tried bibimbap when I lived in Toronto and worked for a delightful Korean couple. They would always make sure to feed me after a particularly hard day of work and I shared many a delicious Asian meal with them. 

Thai food or anything cooked with coconut milk comes in fourth. I first tried Thai food in Thailand (lucky me) and absolutely love the combination of basil, hot sauce and coconut milk.

In third place is dim sum, the Cantonese specialty consisting of small, individually prepared dishes, including lots of steamed dumplings. Literally meaning "to touch your heart" dim sum is a great way to start a Sunday (as well as a great post night out cure). 

Pho soup is literally like chicken (or beef) soup for the soul. Delightfully flavoured with cardamon, cinnamon, cloves, fennel and star anise and full of rice noodles, bean sprouts and basil, its is the best thing to eat when you're feeling under the weather (or the weather just isn't cooperating). 

First place comes as no surprise to anyone (who knows me) and is, of course, SUSHI. Actually it's sashimi and salmon sashimi specifically. While eating raw slices of salmon doesn't float everyone's boat it is literally my absolute favourite thing in the world.  

Next to hot dogs.

A fish called Wanda

A little while ago, in October 2012 (haha), I penned a transcript of my interview with Eric Ripert, head chef and co-owner of Le Bernardin, a 3-star Michelin restaurant in New York that specializes in seafood. This past weekend, I had the pleasure of watching Jiro Dreams of Sushi, a documentary about another 3-star Michelin restaurant that specializes in seafood - sushi specifically - this one in Tokyo.

Jiro Ono is a shokunin, a master in his field. He has been making sushi since the age of nine and is now 85. He is the head chef and owner of Sukiyabashi Jiro, arguably the world's best sushi restaurant. A meal there consists of about 20 pieces of exquisite sushi, takes about 20 minutes to eat and costs the equivalent of about $400. If you're at all mathematically-inclined, you've already calculated the break-down: it's $20 a minute. 

Some other interesting facts about Sushi Jiro include the fact that the "restaurant" seats a maximum of 10 people and that Jiro makes each and every piece of sushi with each and every customer in mind. Is the customer male or female? Right-handed or left?

Heaven.

Though I lived in Japan for one year and would have, had I known about it, eaten at Sushi Jiro in a Tokyo minute, I didn't. But watching the documentary almost makes me feel like I did. Beautifully filmed and filled with transporting classical music, the documentary is not only full of interesting facts, it is also full of flavours.

You heard me. 

I could literally taste the sushi while I was watching it.

Ripert himself has claimed to be a huge admirer of Jiro and I hope to one day have the pleasure of saying the same. Until then, I'll settle for my very own, homemade salmon tartare. Not quite 3-star... but not bad!

If you're wondering what the drizzle is, it's a balsamic reduction. Oh yeah. That's what I said.

Moshi moshi it’s chawanmushi time

I’ve recently noticed that this blog is slowly but surely turning into a food blog. To help with the transition, I’ve decided to bang out another post about cuisine; this time, Japanese. 

I moved to Japan when I was 23 literally because my love of sushi took me there but I quickly discovered an even more delicious delicacy (well, more than one actually): chawanmushi.

Fun to say and even more fun to eat, chawanmushi is an egg custard made with fish stock, sake, soya sauce, ginger and a cornucopia of fillings (my favourites being shrimps, scallops, asparagus and shitake mushrooms). 

I start by frying the fillings in some sesame oil and garlic, with a little salt and pepper. Once that’s done, I beat two eggs. Then I slowly add a cup of cooled fish stock, a splash of sake and a dash of soya sauce to the eggs. 

I carefully and evenly (!) separate the custard into dishes that can be cooked in and then eaten out of. Finally, I add the fillings to each dish.

To cook, I place the dishes in a saucepan filled with a generous bottom of boiling water and steam for about 15 minutes. At the end, I grate a little ginger on the top and then, itadakimasu, I enjoy.

Oishi desu!