Toy-vey

Last week was Chanukah and, naturally, with Chanukah comes presents. These of course included some rather interesting Japanese inventions. One of these items was a hamster. But, this hamster was not just any hamster. If you give this one I little push in the stomach, it moves like a real pet.

Another was an Eco-hime. Now, in Japan, some toilets have buttons that produce a flushing sound so that no one can hear anything else from outside of the stall. Some toilets do not have this luxury. So, naturally you can purchase your very own portable one. They can reach a surprisingly loud volume.

Talons

People-watching in trains is like looking at people under a microscope. No one looks normal on the subway. However, this needed no magnifying whatsoever.

I was sitting on the train on my way home from a soccer game when a woman entered the car and, as there were no available seats to be seen, took up a position standing directly in front of my seat.

I noticed someone standing in front of me and glanced up. She clutched a cell phone in one hand and held on tightly to the ceiling handle with the other one. I looked back down at my book. Wait, I thought to myself, there was something funny on her nails. I looked up once more, and was absolutely wowed. She had the most elaborate manicure I had ever seen and, let me tell you, I've seen some very impressive manicures.

This woman had nails that were absolutely over the top. First of all, on top of her natural nails, huge red talons were secured in place. Then, on each of these nails, there was a different Christmas-related object. These objects, little 3D miniature, included a bell that I'm pretty sure actually made noise and a santa face.

It was flabbergasting that someone would chose that method of expressing holiday spirit.

Out of My Way, I'm Gonna Puke!

Strange English, or as I often call it Engrish, is all over Japan, even in a city like Tokyo. A little while back, while browsing around in a ski shop, I ran into this hat. Unlike many incidents of Engrish, this sentence on the hat is relatively grammatical. However, that certainly doesn't make it any less strange or hilarious. I really got a kick out of this hat!

Biking in Chiba

A couple weekends ago, part of my ninth grade class at school went on a bike trip along the Chiba coast.

On Saturday morning, after a filling breakfast of pancakes, we got on our mountain bikes and headed out. After pedaling inland for a couple hours, going up and then down again, through tunnels and over hills, we finally reached the southern-most point of Chiba prefecture, and the massive expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Following lunch at a little local restaurant, we returned to the lodge along the coast. By the end we had pedaled 43 km!

The biking was fun and all, but I have to say that the real highlight was bodysurfing in the Pacific. It may have been November, but the water was still incredibly warm. The waves crashed one after another on to the shore, rising larger and larger. My eyes stung, my ears ached, my skin and hair were sticky with salt, and I was having a great time.

The World's Best Cranberry Cake

Succulent cranberries atop an utterly delicious yellow cake. The result: a mouthwateringly exquisite combination, Cranberry Upside-down Cake. At least once every fall, sometimes twice, if I'm lucky, we make Cranberry Upside-down Cake. Sometimes we eat it at our Yom Kippur break-fast dinner, but this year we had it as a Thanksgiving treat. Among the other desserts present at our dinner this year, the cranberry cake's popularity was somewhat diminished among our guests. It was not as immaculate-looking as the pumpkin pie. Nor did it look as tender and juicy as the apple pie. No matter, that just meant that there were more leftovers for me!

What Were They Thinking?

The most recent addition to the Tokyo subway system is the Fukutoshin-sen. Every subway line in Tokyo is assigned a color. Of course, this line is no exception. With about fifteen lines already in existence, I guess that the people in charge of train line colors at Tokyo Metro were starting to run out of attractive choices. I can just picture it.

They color committee sits around the large round table in the conference room, each person with their ideal color in mind. They start going around the table with their ideas. "How about a nice robust red," a serious-looking man suggests. Almost before he has finished, the woman next to him blurts out, "been there, done that. Marunouchi-sen. What about a forest green?" But here too, someone shouts out that this has already been done. The committee continues to rule out all possibilities until someone suggests . . . brown! Silence falls over the room. By this time everyone is exhausted. Without even taking a peak at the brown color swatch, it is decided. The Fukutoshin-sen will be represented by the color brown.

It had to have happened this way. I can see no other way that such a vile shade could have been chosen. Now lets get one thing straight. I'm not completely opposed to brown. My hair is brown. The door to my room is wooden and, naturally, brown. I love chocolate! But the brown of this train line is not the color of my hair, nor that of my door, and it certainly doesn't look like chocolate.

In small portions this color is not terribly offensive. But large areas painting with it are a completely different story, in my opinion. You be the judge. Try standing in close proximity to a Fukutoshin-sen train. Trust me, you'll understand.

My Afternoon of Architecture

A couple weeks ago on a lazy Sunday afternoon, I went to a kengakukai (a building open house) with my mother. We got on the train at Shibuya Station. It was my first time to ride the Fukutoshin-sen (Fukutoshin Line) and to see Tadao Ando's addition to Shibuya Station. Riding down the escalator from ground level, it didn't look like anything that special. Sure, more glass was used at the top part and everything looked fairly new. But altogether, I didn't think that it was that great. That is, until we descended to the underground portion.

I stepped off the escalator and glanced up briefly. Something caught my eye. What was it? I looked up again. Wow. There, staring me right in the face was a giant egg. Yes, an egg. It looked as though some massive creature had buried its egg in the middle of Tokyo and that all that remained was the shell. Mom explained that the egg transcended the different floors and was part of a design to make the station easier to navigate. I stood stunned in awe of the giant egg.

Out in the Sticks

You really know you're out in the sticks when...

...You see a massive cabbage patch on the side of the road.


...There are no buildings in the vicinity that are above three stories high.


...You are walking along a relatively big street for a fairly lengthy amount of time and see a total of five cars, three bicyclists, and one pedestrian.


...The only major signs of life is right next to the train station.


...The subway station is completely empty, even at rush hour.

No Wonder

Driving back from Minakami, we encountered some construction on the highway. Needless to say, the road was practically packed with workers. However, a majority of them were not working on the construction itself. Rather, they were standing still waving flashing lights. Some stood alone, but most were in groups.

Upon doing a bit of research, I have found that Japan's unemployment rate hovers around five percent. Japan has traditionally had very low unemployment rates. Now I know why!

So Ugly, It's Cute

When I was walking down to Azabu Juban, a couple weeks ago, I encountered this dog.

In my mind, there are two kinds of dogs. One is the type that is so adorable that you resist not to bend down and give it a pat. The other is the sort that is incredibly ugly in way that makes it incredibly cute. You have to admit that this dog is so ugly that it's cute.

A Memorable Encounter With Age-Soba

After lunch at the little soba shop I described in my previous post, we couldn't resist buying a bag of their age-soba. Age-soba is the result of frying raw soba noodles. These noodles taste sort of like normal soba, but with a satisfying crunch.

Inaka Soba Lunch

Before leaving Minakami to return to Tokyo earlier this week, we stopped for a late soba lunch. When we walked in the door of the restaurant after 2 pm, it was still bustling with activity. We sat down at a little table that, with our long legs, wasn't all that comfortable to sit at. The little Obasan (old lady) who ran the shop brought us soba-cha (buckwheat tea) and asked us if we were the Smiths. I mean, aren't all gaijin named 'Smith'? We told that we weren't and that we were new to the area.

For my lunch, I ordered ten-zaru soba, cold soba noodles with tempura. I have to say, it was truly delicious. The soba was very good, but it was the tempura that made the meal. The vegetables were incredibly fresh. The batter was unbelievably light. The combination was heavenly. It was the perfect end to our first stay up at Minakami.

Pippi and the Car

Just by saying the word 'car' within earshot of Pippi, you can get her attention. Her little ears poke up and she stares into your face with alacrity. Before going downstairs to the car, Pippi has to put on a harness that serves as part of her seat belt. Although she usually protests loudly when someone tries to slip something over her head, this harness is never a problem. In the elevator her tail thumps vigorously. When we get down to the garage, she bolts to our car, where she circles in excitement before someone opens the door to the backseat. At this point, she leaps in and sits relatively patiently until one of us climbs in with and buckles her seat belt. When the car gets going, she plops herself into someone's lap and falls asleep, awaking only when we near our destination. Pippi likes to smell the air outside. Sometimes I open the window for her. But, recently, Pippi has opened the window on her own. For the third time, yesterday, she stepped on the switch until the window was down low enough for her to stick her head partway out.

Minakami

After giving up our country house by Yamanaka-ko, a lake at the foot of Mt. Fuji, my family missed spending time outside of the city on weekends. So, my parents started looking for another house. We had shared our Yamanaka-ko house with a couple other families. This time, Dad was looking for a smaller house for us to rent on our own. In doing it this way, we would be able to go up to the country anytime we wanted. After about a month of hunting around, Mom and Dad went up to an area in Gunma-ken called Minakami. They looked at a few possible houses for us. Dad went up there one more time before we made our decision.

I didn't get to come up here until last weekend. We arrived on Sunday night. Dad drove up with Pippi beforehand, while we three took the train a little bit later. Getting up to the house from the station is incredibly easy. That is, except for one tiny detail. The last stretch of the hill is very narrow. It is also very steep. So much so that when you drive up it, you are lurched back in your seat quite violently. However, after the minute or so it takes to ascend this stretch, you are right in front of the house. The schlep factor on this house is greatly reduced from what we are used to. Thank goodness!

When I woke up on Sunday and peeked out of the window of the little A-frame room my sister and I shared, a beautiful view awaited me. All around us were tall, luscious trees, and behind them, vast green mountains. I couldn't wait to explore the area.

To Good To Be True

A few days ago, I finished reading a book called Songs for the Butcher's Daughter by Peter Manseau. This book was amazing. I'd even go as far as to say that it was one of the best books I have ever read. This book contains two stories that are deeply intertwined. One is the immigration story of a Yiddish poet, while the other is the story of his 21 year old American translator. I don't want to give anything away, so I won't go into anymore detail about the plot and characters.

So, I was lying in bed, reading the last few pages of the book, thinking to myself how amazing it was that this was a true story. It was unbelievable that such a story could be real. Then, after I finished, I went on to read the author Q&A at the back of the book. It was only as I noticed a question that said, "You are in the midst of completing a Ph.D. degree in religion. How do you have time to write fiction?" Fiction? What? I couldn't believe it. Sure that there must be some mistake, that the characters in the book really existed, I rushed to my laptop, threw open its lid and googled the name of the Yiddish poet in the book. To my dismay, all of my search results related to the book, and nothing else. As a last resort, I looked the name up on Wikipedia. Again, no mention. I guess that somethings are simply too good to be true.

Sunday Sushi

Every Sunday afternoon, I walk down to Hiroo, often with Pippi and Mom or Dad. While my parents are busy at the supermarket, I always walk down Hiroo-shotengai (Hiroo shopping street) to a little sushi shop. Every week, without fail, I buy two packs of kappa maki (cucumber rolls), one for dinner, and one for my lunch the next day.

The shop I go to is just a tiny little store front. There is no door and there are no walls between it and the sidewalk. Just simply a glass case filled with packs of sushi, behind that, a cash register, and even further back, a window through which a man making sushi is visible. Every Sunday, I walk up to the glass case, remove two boxes of kappa maki, and place them on the counter with my Y400. The person at the register puts my sushi into a plastic bag and asks me if I want chopsticks. To this, I reply no and just use what I have at home. I am then asked if I want shoyu (soy sauce). I of course answer yes to this every time: last week, this week, next week.

I Discover Falafel

Yesterday at my school's annual FOOD FAIR, I tried falafel for the first time that I can remember. I have always been a pretty picky eater and finally, in the last couple of years, started to branch out. Mom recommended that I try the falafel at the Israeli booth this year, and so I did. As I waited cautiously in line, I watched the people working at the booth place balls of falafel, sesame dressing, and salad into each pita. I though for sure that I would not like the dressing (I rarely like dressing) and decided to ask for mine a minimal amount. When it was my turn, I gave in five tickets and in return received one pita. It seemed to be too late to ask for mine without dressing, so I just decided to go with the flow.

When I took my first bite, I was amazed by how good it was. I though to myself, How have I not tried this before? I could not believe what I had missed out on for all these years. The pita was warm and chewy, the salad was crunchy and delicious, the dressing was mild and creamy and not bad at all, the falafel was crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. The ratios in the combination were perfect. My mouth waters at simply the thought of it, but I guess I'll have to wait until next year for another bite.

After the Rain

Last Thursday, school was cancelled when a typhoon hit Tokyo. I woke up around 8 O'Clock to and flipped out, thinking that I had overslept. Then, seeing the winds whipping around outside, I asked Mom what was going on. She then told me that school had been cancelled because of a typhoon. How ridiculous! Sure there were some pretty severe winds outside, and there was a little bit of rain. But it would not have been terribly difficult to commute. The storm lasted until about 11 O'Clock, and then cleared up completely, leaving me with a beautiful day and no school! Huge storms never last very long, and when they are over, you are almost always left with a gorgeous and spectacularly clear sky.

The Babble Ball

On the occasion of my birthday, we decided to give Pippi a present, too. What we gave her was a toy called a babble ball. The babble ball is a blue hard plastic sphere. There's just one catch. Whenever it comes into physical contact with anything, it talks. Well, saying it talks isn't quite the right definition. The package said that it makes sounds and says phrases that number more than 20. Some of the things that the babble ball says are: "hot diggidy dog", "grrrrr", "na na na na na", "come here puppy", "oh, you got me", "pfrt, uh oh", etc.

Pippi naturally freaked out when the ball started talking to her. At first she jumped back a bit. Then, she made her way back to the babble ball and picked it up. Pippi was now approaching her new toy with a great deal of alacrity. She lay down with it and started to push it around with her snout. Following that, Pippi started pawing at it and pushing it around. She reacted to the sounds it made as she did this. Most notably, she growled when it growled at her. Finally, she started picking it up and throwing it up into the air in front of her. I'm sure she was hoping to turn this into a game of fetch, her favorite thing to do.

A Tale of Two Cakes

Yesterday was my fifteenth birthday. I woke up early, along with the rest of my family and opened my presents before going to cross country practice. (It is one of our traditions to start birthdays by opening presents.) It was raining a little bit, but that didn't matter. It was my birthday, after all! This year, I was lucky enough to have two cakes rather than one on the occasion of my birthday.

My first cake was heart-shaped and chocolate, with pink and white icing. Cassidy made it for me. At morning recess, after Japanese class, I returned to the 9th grade area to find the cake set out on a table. Next to it was Katherine and next to her was Cassidy, brandishing a rather large, sharp-looking knife. I protested, saying that we should save it for lunch but was overruled in a matter of seconds. How could I resist? Although we only had fifteen minutes, the three of us managed to make a sizable dent in the cake, with a bit of assistance. The remainder was strategically concealed under backpacks and sweaters to preserve the rest for lunch. At lunch, only about a quarter of the cake was left. We took turns cutting off slivers and eating them until the whole thing was gone. Unfortunately, Eve came down to where we were just a couple minutes after we had devoured the final pieces. Needless to say, all that was left were the crumbs and some little globs of icing.

My second cake was a yellow cake with rich chocolate icing. My family and I ate this cake after a delicious dinner at home. The recipe for this cake came from my mother's all time favorite dessert cookbook. I'm not usually one for cake, but whenever we make this one, I simply can't defy the instinct to wolf down a piece. The cake was rich, but not too much so. The icing was even richer. We of course had to eat it with vanilla ice cream. On top of the a thick layer of icing, the words Happy Birthday Abby were written. Above that, some little rainbow sprinkles were scattered. Around the edge were 16 candles. (Another of our birthday traditions is to add an extra candle for good luck.) I didn't quite manage to blow out all 16 in one breath, but there's always next year, when I can try one more time with one more candle.

My Meal of White

All day today, I've been trying to come up with a good subject for today's post. I didn't come up with an idea that I was happy with until I was waiting for Dad at the cash register in Media Supermarket. In one hand I was holding tofu and in the other I was holding a square-shaped cheese. I looked down and noticed that they were both white. Then it came to me! I was going to write a blog entry about an entirely white meal. When we went to the gelato store, I specifically chose a white flavor to complete my dinner.

I recently discovered tofu when I snuck a bite Mom's a few months ago. Since then, I have only eaten one brand of tofu. That is, until tonight. Tonight I decided to be adventurous, and purchased a different type. Unfortunately, my experiment did not exactly go as planned. The tofu was a little bit too watery and silky for my taste. Oh well, I'll just have to repeat the investigation.

The next element of repast was the cheese. This cheese was almost a perfect cube, a rather unusual shape, in my opinion. The cheese had a nice mild flavor and I think that the rest of my family liked it too.

Now for dessert. The gelato flavor that I chose was cookie-framboise. I'd never seen this type before, and was curious to try it. The name was appealing, after all. This flavor had a white ice cream base (not vanilla, I'm not sure exactly what it was). It had a little bit raspberry sauce mixed in and had crushed chocolate-chip cookie on top of it, too. It was mind-bogglingly delicious.

Delicate and Delicious

Last night, Eve, Dad, and I went out to dinner at one of my absolute favorite restaurants: Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi is a relatively fancy sushi restaurant in Roppongi. Whenever we go there, we always sit at the counter, on the corner. In my opinion, these are the best seats because you can see exactly what the chef is doing. It's quite fascinating. Also, the best chef is always situated right in front of us, a great advantage. My favorite thing to watch is when the chef cuts the cucumber for kappa maki. Holding the cucumber still with one hand, the chef gently swings his incredibly sharp knife back and forth so that it penetrates the cucumber's skin and cuts it right through into slices almost as thin as paper. It is a wonder that the chef can control the knife so perfectly that it never cuts him.

I like kappa maki, but they are not my first preference at Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi makes two types of sushi that are so delectable that they have the capacity to induce mouthwatering daydreams. Believe me, I've been on their receiving end. One of these types is takuan maki. Takuan is a type of Japanese pickle with a stunningly bright yellow color. The takuan at Fukuzushi is unusual. It has other things, such as shiso, mixed into it, making the flavor all the more delicious.

The other type of I sushi that I really like features salmon skin. For this sushi, the chef takes the skin and a thin layer of flesh off of a piece of salmon and cooks it through. Then, this cooked salmon skin, along with cut up cucumber and sesame seeds, is put on top of rice and rolled up in a piece of nori (seaweed). Thinking about this dish makes me sigh with longing. I wonder how it will be before Dad takes me back there . . .

Pippi's Amusing Antics

Pippi is a very smart dog with some very amusing antics. As I was sitting in the kitchen, typing away on my laptop, a cool breeze blew in through the open window. Pippi, who was lying with her back against window sill, lifted her head and pointed it daintily out the window, enjoying the gentle wind and sound of the wind chimes. Her ear perked up when the chimes quieted down. It was as it she was thinking, 'hey, where did that nice ringing noise go?' The breeze continued to blow and Pippi, head still inclined out the window, lay back down again.

Not much later, I was still sitting in the kitchen with my laptop when Pippi got up rather abruptly and let out a small woof. This was her way of indicating that someone was at the door. I followed her to the genkan to find a delivery man from the grocery store. I stood there while he unloaded the groceries from his cart. Pippi, on the other hand, had different ideas. She promptly picked up one of my dad's running shoes and sat down in the doorway. Pippi absolutely loves food. I think that by this action, she was saying 'don't leave until you've given us the food.' When the delivery man was ready to leave, I had to shut her out of the doorway, from which she was quite reluctant to leave.

Then, of course, Pippi had to go check out the groceries. In an very orderly fashion, Pippi systematically stuck her head into each of the shopping bags, one by one. Perhaps she had hoped that there would have been something for her to consume, say, maybe, an open jar of peanut-butter?

BANZAI! It's a BONSAI tree!

Today, as I was walking home from Roppongi Station, I went by a little display of various bonsai trees in front of a store. What is a bonsai tree? A bonsai tree is a miniature tree, usually under 30 cm tall. Although they are incredibly short, bonsai trees are not at all disproportionate. I have always been sort of intrigued by these tiny trees. How do they stay so small? How do they keep their perfect shape? Now, I am finally getting around to looking these questions up. According to Wikipedia's article on these plants, "bonsai is the art of aesthetic miniaturization of trees" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonsai). Bonsai trees are apparently grown from cuttings taken from branches. The article goes on further to explain about how to care for a bonsai plant and about common types of bonsai trees.

Pippi's Prize

This afternoon I was walking with my mom and Pippi, our yellow labrador. Pippi is quite obsessed with playing fetch. So much so that we can't even say word ball around the house without attracting her attention. Her ears perk up and she goes looking for one of her numerous tennis balls. Instead of voicing the word, we often resort to spelling it out so as not to get Pippi excited for nothing. This afternoon, we were walking past some bush on the edge of the park when Pippi stopped, sniffed for a few seconds, and scrambled as quickly as she could under the fence. She was hunting around in there for a little bit before popping out triumphantly, a ball clutched tightly in her jaws. This dog can smell a ball from practically a mile away. She carried her prize all the way home and we were hard pressed to get it away from her to wash the mud off of it.

In the photo above, Pippi seems to be thinking, maybe if I stare at it for long enough, it'll move...

SENSEWARE Exposed

On Friday, I went to an exhibit at 21_21 Design Site, a small museum on the grassy area behind Midtown. The exhibit was called SENSEWARE and was a relatively small array of new textile designs that utilize nanotechnology. Unfortunately, I could not take any photos within the museum, but I can still describe to you some of my favorite displays. One of the materials in the exhibit was concrete imbedded with optic fibers. If light was shone on one side of the wall, it was visible on the other side. A dot pattern of light appeared on the wall where the fibers ended and the shadows of people walking on the other side could be seen. The wall practically appeared to be translucent. It was awe-inspiring. Another material I found interesting was made of a type of plastic that came from plant residue. Because of this, grass could be grown on it indoors without making any sort of mess. The material, a sort of layered grid shape, served as a replacement for soil. The way that this section of the exhibit was designed also appealed to me. There were little pockets of grass spread out around a perfectly white floor. Finally, towards the end of the exhibition, there were robotic little floor-cleaners that moved around the floor like caterpillars. The fabric that they were made out of absorbed the dirt on the floor. They had lights on their front that blinked almost affectionately.

They Come in All Shapes and Sizes

On Friday, I was at Midtown with Katherine. We were walking around on the basement floor of the building looking for a bakery so that Katherine could buy bread. When we found one, we went in and Katherine picked out her bread. I went around the small store looking at various different types of pastries and trying samples. Most of the food was fairly mainstream, the kind of thing you could find almost anywhere. Then, I noticed a tray of what the bakery called 'mini-muffins'. True to their name, they were about the size of Y500 pieces but looked exactly like normal muffins. Naturally, I couldn't resist and had to try one. There were two flavors that appealed to me: vanilla and chocolate. Of course, I bought one of each. Unfortunately, as appetizing as they appeared, they were not particularly sublime. It wasn't that the flavor was bad. Quite the contrary, in fact, the flavor was the best part. It was the texture that was problematic: much too dry.

Following the bakery, we went on to the supermarket. In front of the supermarket, there was a massive loaf of bread on display. It was unbelievably huge! When I touched it, it definitely felt real. I was amazed. How could anyone bake bread that size? Then, when I went back later, I noticed a little detail on the side of the bread that I had overlooked before. There was a long crack with little holes all down it along the side. Barely peeking out of one of these holes, I saw a piece of bubble-wrap. How appalling! Well, I guess somethings are just too good to be true.