Tasty Tuesday: Shiso Tree Café

Shrimp Okonomiyaki Pasta from Shiso Tree Café

Is there any emotional issue in the world that pasta can't fix?  I don't think so.

Broken heart? 

Yan San's Wafuu Pasta

You know that I absolutely love "Italian" pasta that is adapted to the Japanese palate, but I equally love Japanese-style pasta, otherwise known as wafuu pasuta (pasta) - wafuu = 和風 = Japanese style. In fact, it was the first meal I had in the country.

Basically, it's like topping pasta with ingredients and sauces you'd put over rice. I find that the texture of the pasta is of utmost importance - it has to be perfectly al dente, maybe even veering on a little hard - and the kinds I had always seemed to be tossed in a bit of butter before being added to the sauce. Maki from Just Hungry explains the concept well.

I've been scrounging around the net for wafuu pasta recipes in English to switch things up a bit from my diet of fruit and ice cream bars (if there's any good food in Nice, I can't afford it), but there aren't many, and most feature ingredients that I can't get because I live in the middle of nowhere.

So! I took to my culinary laboratory and produced the following, which I'm proud to say turned out quite well and is very tasty. A bunch of the ingredients are optional, in case you are even more unfortunate than I am and are living even more deeply entrenched in Nowhere, in which case you wouldn't even be able to find stuff like mirin. But I know I'm taking a leap of faith in assuming that soy sauce is pretty widely available and universal.

I like my wafuu pasta sauce a little watery because it's more faithful to the samples I tasted in Japan and because they make great dips if you're in the habit of cleaning your plates with bread after consuming the main course. If you prefer thicker sauces, there are instructions in the recipe on how you could achieve that.

Finally, this recipe serves four, but I actually ate about half of the sauce (2 servings, and I made the pasta accordingly) the night I made it and saved the other half to eat with rice. It's super easy, so I hope you give it a try!

XOXOXO


Yan San’s Wafuu Pasta

Ingredients:
200g ground pork
1 small onion, diced OR half a large onion, diced
1 stalk green onion, finely chopped
1 or 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped OR 2 tsp minced garlic
2 large mushrooms diced OR 4 small mushrooms, diced
4 tbsp soy sauce
¾ cup white wine
dash of garlic powder
dash of dried shallot flakes
dash of ground pepper

dash of fish sauce (optional)
dash of mirin (optional)
1 tsp dashi powder (optional)
1 tsp Japanese garlic paste (optional)

500g spaghetti
1 tbsp butter

1.) Cook spaghetti until perfectly al dente and toss in butter.
2.) Heat some olive oil in a deep skillet and stir-fry the garlic and garlic paste on medium heat until it smells yummy.
3.) Add chopped onions and green onion to the skillet and stir-fry until the onions become translucent.
4.) Add mushrooms and stir around some more, until they become coated with oil.
5.) Add pork, soy sauce, dashi, garlic powder and shallot flakes – try to break up the pork while browning it.
6.) When the pork is just about cooked through, add white wine and mirin. Turn up the heat until it boils to reduce the alcohol.
7.) Do a taste test! I prefer it to be a little bit too salty on its own so that it makes a really flavourful pasta sauce. Add some fish sauce for extra flavour.
8.) I like my sauce watery, but if you prefer a creamier, thicker sauce, add either a touch of cream or corn starch diluted in cold water to the mix.
9.) Spoon over pasta and enjoy!

Serves 4

Don, Don, Don, Dooonki!

I can’t believe I haven’t written about Donki in my posts about my recent trip to Japan! How could I forget about Donki?

I’m referring, of course, to Don Quijote (Donki, in local parlance), the Japanese chain discount store with locations in Japan and Hawaii – this store can kick Wal-Mart’s butt any day. I suddenly thought about them yesterday, when the company’s song (which plays on a loop in the stores) popped up in my head, unbidden – must be the subliminal advertising working. It goes:

Don, Don, Don – Dooonki! Don Quiiii-jote!

Upon further research, I’ve found that they actually have a Wikipedia page, as well as an English version of their site, although there isn’t much there besides a cute picture of their mascot, the penguin - but it escapes me as to why they didn't use a donkey instead.

What I love about this store is that they sell absolutely everything at a discount, but the quality is really decent, especially since many of their goods are brand name. If there’s anything you need that you can’t find at a 100¥ store (which I also love), it’ll be at Donki, at a discounted price. They have cheapie, no-name goods, right alongside Calvin Klein undies, T-Fal cookware, Haagen-Dazs ice cream, Rolex watches (no, really!), Givenchy scarves, Chanel makeup, Dior jewellery, LV bags...I once saw a brand new Kelly bag (albeit a model in just basic, boring, tan leather) at a Donki store for the low, low price of 3.6 million yen. (sarcasm)

Why do they have all these authentic luxury goods available? Well, first of all, they aren’t cheap, even though they’re technically on sale. Luxury goods are typically more expensive in Japan because they’re usually imported. But most importantly, the turnover for such products is very quick. In Tokyo, like in many other Asian cities, it’s not good enough just to be rocking designer duds – what you’re wearing and using has to be in season. That’s why a lot of office ladies carry classic monogram bags – it’s way harder to tell which season they’re from, they’re more timeless – and you can bet your passport they are real. It’s the culture. Same goes for Hong Kong.

If you’re claustrophobic, you might not enjoy yourself there, because there is stuff absolutely everywhere. Space is precious in Japan, and so the store is stuffed to the brim with merchandise, on shelves climbing up the walls, towering over people in rows in the middle of the store, and there are hanging signs everywhere that’ll brush your head if you’re taller than, say, 5’8”. And because everyone loves Donki, it’s gets really crowded in there – you have to be patient with the traffic inside, because the aisles are narrow.

When I go to Donki, I stock up on food items that I can bring back, like candy (Japanese candy is the best!), spaghetti sauces and instant curries, which cost significantly less than what I’d have to pay to score similar products, with less choices, at J-Town in Toronto, this huge emporium of imported Japanese goods - if the ticket to Japan is just not feasible, J-Town is a perfectly good option. They also have an awesome toilet, if you ever happen to go there.

Now if only Donki would expand to Canada! Below is a video of someone making their way inside – claustrophobics, beware!

Next Trip to Japan

That's right - I've barely been back a week, and I'm already planning my next trip to Japan. It's that awesome. There are some places in the world where one visit will cover everything nicely (like Nice, in my opinion, although my Japanese uncle disagrees), but there are others that you just want to go back to, again and again. Japan is one such place.

On my next visit, I want to:
*have curry at a curry restaurant (didn't get to do that this time)
*have tonkatsu (fried pork chop) at Meisen again
*have spaghetti and strawberry shortcake at Capricciosa again
*replenish my stock in candy, spaghetti sauces, instant curries and fried rice mixes at Donki (more on that store later!)
*visit all the department stores (I wouldn't let my mom shop at them this time, insisting boutiques are superior, when on the last day, we walked into one just to have a look and discovered that Japanese department stores are way cooler than their North American counterparts - they are like lots of cute boutiques set in a building, like superchic malls)
*have tempura, rotating sushi, unagi don (bbq eel on rice), udon, sukiyaki and ramen
*gorge myself on strawberry shortcake
*be able to speak and/or read some basic Japanese so that I can at least communicate a little bit at restaurants and stores
*take more street fashion pictures
*go to Harajuku on a Sunday again to see more "weird people," as my uncle calls them
*visit my Brand Name Dermatologist

and most importantly(!)

*have the girl stuff to say hi if I see a superhot kakkoii who's been eyeing me back all night

Let's hope I'll get to do all this sooner rather than later!

Half Birthday Strawberry Shortcake

I’m back in Nice! And it’s our half birthday!

I say this a lot, but it’s worth repeating: thank you, thank you, thank you for your continuing support and for reading me. This blog began as a portfolio of writing samples and then it quickly morphed into more of a personal blog – I guess my inner narcissist took over. Who knew that anyone would find my life interesting but me? In just six months, over 1150 unique visitors have been here, from 44 different countries. I am stunned and grateful!

If I were still in Japan (*sigh!*), I’d celebrate the occasion with half of a strawberry shortcake from Capricciosa. Preferably all to myself.

You know how I said that no one makes toilets like the Japanese do? It’s more accurate to say that there are a LOT of things that no one makes like they do – including strawberry shortcake. Japan is all about quality over quantity. Everything is tiny (except produce and toilets), but the quality is top-notch. Things tend to be on the pricey side, but you know that you’re getting what you paid for.

Take this shortcake I keep bringing up. I sampled many during my trip, and I’d say that the average price for a slice was about 450 to 600 ¥, which at the time of writing this, is about $6.50-8.50 CAD – comparable to Canadian prices, especially at chicer places. However, the size would be equal to about a half to two thirds of a slice of cake in Canada. But it’s totally worth it.

I don’t know how they make cream in Japan, but from every establishment, without exception, it’s literally light as air. It just flutters on your palate, and it’s not too sweet. The cake part is unbelievably fluffy. And the strawberries! How do they cultivate the produce that they have in Japan?

All of their produce, their fruit in particular, are massive. Like, enormous, which is the opposite of the sizes of everything else. When I first saw the kiwis sitting on my aunt and uncle’s window sill, I thought they were fuzzy potatoes. The average size of an apple is the size of two of my fists put together. And every piece of fruit I had was very sweet. Admittedly, I probably just got what was in season, but I didn’t even really have to choose my produce, because every single fruit looks perfect. The strawberries, especially, are sold in little, clear-wrapped boxes, all perfectly lined up in a single layer, pointing upwards. They look so perfect and perfectly red, they almost look fake. And of course, they are all super sweet and packed with a strong, strawberry flavour.

I asked my uncle if all the produce in Japan are genetically-modified, because otherwise, how can they be so amazing? But he doesn’t think they are, because Japan has really strict laws about things like that, especially when health and safety are involved. My aunt, who is usually not so gung-ho about policies in Japan, agreed with him on this, and she thinks that the produce there is like that because scientists have put a lot of work into cross-fertilizing the best plants with the best plants to come up with a superior fruit, kind of like breeding animals. I don’t know how scientifically-sound that explanation is, but I wouldn’t write it off.

My favourite strawberry shortcake is the one from Capricciosa because, as you can see, there is an enormous wad of cream in it and on it, and it’s full of strawberries. It’s the perfect conclusion to a delicious spaghetti meal at that restaurant!

Akemashite omedetou gozaimasu.

明けましておめでとうございます｡ (Happy New Year!)

I didn't get to see any fireworks this year (except when I saw My Kakkoii in Kamakura), so here's a picture of part of the award-winning winter light display in midtown Tokyo, in Roppongi (which is not the same as Roppongi Hills), instead.

I wish you all, my dear readers, good health and happiness and success in all your endeavours. Rock on!

P.S. Am flying back to France tomorrow - will be back on Monday!

XOXOXO

Japan's Finest

What a year! I've lived in France and visited Germany and Japan. Here's to another year of adventure, fun, good shopping and good food! This is what I ended 2008 off eating:

Props to the Porcelain Goddess

I need to show some love for Japanese lavatories. No one makes toilets like they do here. I was really pumped to take bathroom breaks here, having used a technologically-advanced loo in J-Town (formerly Heisei Market) in Toronto.

The first night I was here, I pored over the button menu on my aunt and uncle’s toilet (picture above), just pressing everything to see what would happen. I find that Japanese toilets, like German toilets, are very environmentally-friendly – there’s always two flush buttons to conserve water: one for number one, and one for number two. Thankfully, I can read Chinese (Kanji in Japan), so I know to press the button labelled “Small” when I take a leak and the button “Big” when I take a dump – pardon me for TMI. There's also a button with a picture of a bum on it for the bum-cleaning spout, and a button with a picture of (presumably) a lady on it for the bidet feature. The smart thing is, those buttons don’t work unless you’re sitting on the toilet...so I put my hand where the sensor is, and promptly got water all over the bathroom floor. Good thing I tried that out before making a video of it! And when you flush, the little faucet at the top releases water into the basin so you can wash your hands – space is at a premium here, you know.

I came across a particularly fun toilet at Shunbou, this stellar Japanese restaurant in Grand Hyatt Tokyo, located in Roppongi Hills. First of all, this restaurant is amazing. Very classy, and the service is incomparable. When you first get seated, they fold up your coats for you, set it in a chair and cover them with this supersoft fabric to protect them. The servers and managers are very attentive but inconspicuous. And the décor is very tasteful and beautiful, with an open kitchen and ornate, handmade pottery laid out across the main counter. The food is good and very fresh, but not stunning. But I’d go there (provided I could afford it) just for the beautiful surroundings, excellent service and the toilet.

Anyway, after the meal, I decided to skip to the loo, and at first, I was a little turned off at how dim it was in there, even though it was beautiful. There’s art with its own spotlight set into the walls in one of the stalls! The toilets were huge and pink and metallic. I went into a stall and was about to open the lid, when suddenly, it opened by itself! My jaw dropped in delight – I’d heard of automatic toilets before, but I’d never seen one. It was very clean, so I made myself comfy, and of course, the seat was warm. I can’t decide if I like the seat-warming feature because it sort of feels like someone had just recently vacated it, but it’s nice not to get that shock of cold. As is the standard with toilets here, there’s a bidet feature, a bum cleaning feature, and you can control the water pressure as well as where it sprays. However, this particular one also had a blow-dryer for you to use after you’ve used the bidet/bum cleaner. I used it just so I can tell you all about it, of course, but I found that it wasn’t very effective because even after a few minutes of dryage, I still felt the need to follow up with toilet paper. When I was done, I pressed the button to close the lid of the toilet, but I couldn’t resist walking up to it again to re-open it. I know - I’m so mature.

However, I noticed a button on some public toilets that features a picture of music notes. I pressed it, and the toilet emitted this enormously loud flushing noise. You can adjust the volume, but I didn’t really understand what it was for. I guessed that it was for women who were suffering from urinary tract infection (UTI), to inspire their wayward muscles to relax and go. I asked my aunt and uncle to verify, but apparently, that’s not what it’s for. The real purpose of those buttons is to conceal the sound of urination. Apparently, some women are embarrassed by the sound of themselves letting’er rip, so they would keep flushing while they peed to conceal the sound. However, it’s a very wasteful thing to do, so the toilet engineers created this button to save water – isn’t that hilarious?

According to Benjamin Wallace, the most expensive toilet in the world can analyze the contents of the bowl and send the results to your doctor – I wonder if I’ll ever get to see one of those?

Naked Revelations

I did it. I visited a hot spring, where I had to be butt-naked in front of a lot of strangers and even worse, my aunt and mother. And it really was a healing experience.

Honestly, I hadn’t been looking forward to it at all, because of the nudity thing. I’m really self-conscious about my skin – I’ve had a skin condition called eczema since I was a toddler, and it’s left really awful scars, discolouration and some unsightly rashes all over me. My face was free of it during my childhood, but then I hit puberty and it moved north, much to my chagrin. Now that I’m older, it can heal when I’m perfectly comfortable, stress-free and happy, but as soon as any kind of stress (or even just hormonal changes) hits me, it basically explodes and takes a long time to get better. Combine that with the fact that my aunt, like many other caring adults in my life, likes to scrutinize my skin every time she sees me to see how I’m doing – no, I wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

But hey, I don’t come to Japan all the time, and I knew that I’d regret it if I deprived myself of a new experience just because of my hang-ups, so I decided to just bite the bullet and go.

We took an hour-long train ride to the mountainous region of Hakone, where a bunch of hot spring resorts are. The one we went to is quite well-known, and it has a very good reputation among both foreigners and locals. We took a bus up the mountain to the site (best 100¥ spent - I wasn’t about to subject myself to that steep hike!), and we arrived at this picturesque series of very traditional-looking buildings. It cost about 1000¥ to enter, and I think you can stay all day if you want to, which is what some people do. The men’s and women’s areas are separate, so we said goodbye to my uncle, and went on our merry way. There are three series of lockers that you can use: one for your shoes, right at the entrance, one for your coats, right before the entrance to the change rooms, and one in the change rooms, for your clothes.

My aunt walked us in after the second set of lockers, where a wave of humidity hit me, and suddenly, naked women were everywhere, just casually sauntering around. I was told to strip down to my birthday suit, and I was thisclose to chickening out, but I got naked, and tried to cover myself as best I could with the teensy towel I brought – towels, like everything else in Japan, are especially small here, and the ones the resort gives out are the size of hand towels, so I opted to use my own. We went to the shower room to shower, because it’s a courtesy to get clean before using the springs. There are a bunch of little stools set up in front of mirrors and showerheads, with free shampoo, conditioner and soaps in shelves – all the showers I’ve used here happen to have mirrors, for some reason - isn't that weird?

After scrubbing down, you’re free to use any of the five or six pools. There’s one in the shower room that is piping hot – I lasted about one minute in there. Then outside, there’s a nice, milky-coloured one that’s just the right temperature, two really, really warm ones, a hot one that’s in a grotto, and a freezing cold one. Each pool had a plaque by it that explained what it's good for and what kinds of minerals are in the water. I tried all of them except one, because it was really full, and I liked the milky one the best, because the temperature was really comfortable. The bathhouses were beautiful, and I really would have loved to take a picture outside, if I didn’t have to worry about being mistaken for a pervert.

I didn’t get completely comfortable with my public nudity, but I definitely felt better throughout my visit. I didn’t like being naked with all these people (particularly the two I knew!) but no one batted an eye. Everyone was just as naked as everyone else, and they were bodies of real women, so it was no big deal. No one really stared at my skin, except my aunt, but she was obviously making a valiant attempt not to. But then she later took me to her Brand Name Dermatologist, and my skin's been a lot better since, so I'll let it slide.

And I came to realize that my skin isn’t as bad as I think. My other imperfections aren’t as bad as I think. Being surrounded by women with real bodies showed me that people really do come in all shapes and sizes and real people don’t look anything like celebrities or porn stars. And apart from my imperfections, I have some great features that a lot of people would love to have. So really, being naked wasn’t that big of a deal, and more importantly, my imperfections are pretty insignifant, too. I just am how I am. The beautiful thing was, I think I came to term with years’ worth of insecurities that day, and that in itself was priceless.

After soaking in the hot springs, some people opt to take a nap on the straw mat-covered rest area, which is open to everyone, while others visit the restaurant. Sitting in a hot spring accelerates heart beats, so it has a similar effect on the body as a workout would – some get tired, and some get hungry. We had some really tasty pork shabu and the best udon I’ve had here at the restaurant, then we took a break in the rest area while we waited for the next bus to come take us back down the mountain.

It was such a novel adventure, which is why I think that hot springs are a definite must-do in Japan. My visit really helped me to put things into perspective, and that made it a truly healing experience.

Twitterpated in Kamakura

Mercy, mercy me! Whenever I see a strikingly handsome boy, I feel like I never left high school. Apparently I turned bright pink at dinner, when I eyed this drop-dead gorgeous Lee-Hom/Takeshi Kaneshiro hybrid.

You see, today we headed to the very old and lovely district of Kamakura for our token cultural outing to see a Shinto shrine and the Daibutsu (Great Buddha), after over a week of lots of shopping, pavement-pounding, and eating ourselves silly. We started the day off on Komachi-dori, this quaint street that’s lined with lots of food shops that give out free samples – pure joy! I had fish balls, mochi, fresh senbei (rice crackers), a fresh red bean bun, taiyaki (fish-shaped pastry) filled with black sesame paste, ice cream made with Meiji milk (this Japanese brand of milk that my mom’s a little obsessed with)... It’s a delightful street, and my mum had a field day in the pottery stores.

After shopping, and visiting the shrine, where I accidentally drank the water instead of just gargling with it, we took a taxi to see the Daibutsu. I was a little disappointed that you have to pay to see it – when did we come to commercializing faith? – but it was a good experience. Then again, we totally supported the commercialization of faith by buying omamori (Japanese amulets) outside the shrine. For 20¥ you can go inside the Buddha and climb up the stairs (his back has two windows) but it was too late, so it was closed.

Night had fallen by then, so we decided to pick a place to have dinner. My aunt and uncle wanted to show us this really popular okonomiayki place because we’d never had it before, so we headed back to Komachi-dori. The restaurant is called Horetaro, and it’s sort of out of the way, with the entrance on the side of one of the buildings on the street. It’s really popular because they have this meal that’s a great deal – all-you-can-eat (and drink – non-alcoholic, of course) for 2100¥, and you have 2.5 hours, which is rare, because most casual eateries in Japan (like in other Asian places) kick you out as soon as they can in order to speed up turnover.

Anyway, when we first went into the restaurant, we were told that we were in for a long wait because the place was full. However, as if by a turn of fate, we were seated just minutes later, when my aunt and uncle went off to see if another okonomiyaki place might have room. We were placed upstairs in a special section of the restaurant, where it looked like everyone was sitting on the floor but really, there were holes under the tables for leg space.

When I walked in, I saw him right away, and it felt like I got smacked in the consciousness. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a superficial jerk or if it’s just because he was so outstandingly good-looking, but he instantly caught my attention even though he was sitting in sort of an obscure spot. He had this almost collar-length, slightly layered hairstyle that’s so popular now in Asia, highlighted to about the same colour as mine, a natural brow with piercing brown eyes that were devoid of eye makeup (a rarity here in Japan), a very straight, perfectly-formed nose and this beautiful smile that framed his straight, white teeth. He had perfect skin and a great jaw that sported a hint of a 5 'o-clock shadow. He was long and lean, and he wore a sort of rugged white shirt with some grey design screen-printed on it, under this loose, charcoal grey sweater that was open in the front and rugged jeans with a few zippers, which fit him perfectly – not too fitted and not too baggy.

And he had these beautiful hands! I am a huge sucker for beautiful man hands. I wonder if he’s a musician or an artist. He had long fingers, and while his hands were masculinely-shaped, they kind of had a fine quality to them, his skin pristine. They were very sexy. I can just imagine him running his fingers through my long hair while he holds me – the visual is so, so right. It just totally makes sense. And it was very distracting to watch him cook – he was a total Alpha male, taking charge of the cooking and serving the food to his friends, and then cleaning the grill afterwards.

Okonomiyaki is this Japanese dish that’s sort of a cross between pancakes and omelettes. A bunch of chopped up veggies (chiefly cabbage) is mixed with some sort of meat, seasonings, an egg and some batter. The mixture is poured onto a teppan (a hot, flat griddle-like mechanism that’s built into the table), flipped when the bottom is cooked, then topped with sauce, katsuobushi (fish flakes), seaweed bits and sweet mayonnaise. We also had cook-it-yourself fried soba noodles with pork. It was fun, but the food didn’t really wow me. There are much yummier things in Japanese cuisine, and besides, the smoky smell of the grill stank up our hair and clothes so that we had to rush to shower and do the laundry when we got home.

So he was sitting across and facing me, four seats over to the right, beside the wall. I told my mom that I thought this guy was cute, so of course, she told my aunt right away. I kept glancing at him, and I wonder if he noticed, because within minutes, he moved two seats closer to me, in the same row (basically everyone in that room except us belonged to one huge party of friends). Then a little after that, he moved another seat closer, which put him technically right beside my uncle, who was sitting directly across from me. My aunt joked that he might be trying to move to sit beside me, and that if he does, I should say hi to him. I said I wouldn’t – what would I say afterwards? My mom said that I should ask him if he speaks English. But of course, I wasn’t going to.

Well, wouldn’t you know it? Minutes later, he moved across the table and sat beside me. We were separated only by the strip of floor between us, although with him there, the vantage point for checking him out was not as good. My mom and my aunt kept urging me to talk to him, but thankfully, they were speaking Chinese, which he most probably didn’t understand. But I didn’t make a move because 1.) My mom, aunt and uncle were there – while I’ve made the faux pas of flirting with a boy in front of his mother, I’m not stupid enough to flirt with one in front of mine 2.) I’m leaving in less than a week, and 3.) I just can’t function properly in front of a boy that has totally bowled me over. One look from him and I’d be paralyzed. Well no, that’s not technically true, because we had some very brief eye contact when he caught me checking him out, but if we had any eye contact that lasted more than three seconds, I’d have been finished.

When we were close to leaving, one of the girls in their group came over to mack on him, but according to my aunt, who had a better view of him as she was sitting across from us, he didn’t look impressed at all, which was probably why she disappeared shortly. Then, too soon, we had to leave. As I was putting on my coat with my back to him, my aunt said that he turned his head 90 degrees and was blatantly checking me out for a decent chunk of time. Boy, was I glad that I was having a really good hair/skin day. But I had to leave, and I probably wouldn’t ever see him again, so...nothing happened. I didn’t say anything, and he didn’t either. I took my time when I got up to finally leave because I wanted him to turn around, I wanted to see him one last time – but the server cleaning up our table was in my way. I left the restaurant with my family, and I kept turning around on the street like a total loser, hoping to see him, because his group was paying at the same time we were. I ended up having to use the washroom when we were close to the mouth of the street so I did, and then I insisted on buying dessert at this divine cake shop. When we left the shop a group of young people were right outside, and there he was! It was him! We didn’t approach each other, but I did get my last glance of him, as his friends walked to the subway/train station and we walked to the parking lot.

Now I’m a little sad that I’ll probably never see him again, but I’m thankful that whatever little happened did happen...

Japanese-Italian Cuisine vs. Food Authenticity

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a food snob. Okay, I’m a snob about many things, but I have especially high standards for food because it plays such a key role in my life. But recently, I’ve had a bit of a paradigm shift.

You see, I have a thing against fAsian food because of the issue with authenticity. FAsian food is “fake Asian” (Americanized Asian) food, like the stuff you get at Mandarin and Manchu Wok – you know, sweet and sour stuff, chicken balls, chop suey and so on. It’s not yummy to me, and a big part of it, flavour aside, is because it’s not authentic.

But here on my trip, I’ve stumbled across this spectacular phenomenon that is Japanese-ified Italian food, which is SO GOOD, particularly in the form of spaghetti. Italian food that is adapted to the tastes of Japanese people is incredibly delicious. Tomato sauces are sweeter and less sour than their Italian counterparts, cream sauces are more savoury, flavours are more intense...I don’t even know exactly how to describe it, because it’s nothing like the kind of Italian food I’m used to of. You can say it’s not authentic Italian food, but I think that it’s a side to Japanese food that is little known. Japanese cuisine isn’t just about sushi, tempura and teppanyaki, you know? And herein lies my point – what is authenticity, anyway? If someone takes a type of food that was invented by someone else and completely re-works it to create something completely new with its own character and is very popular with local people, who am I to criticize it? I love to use the brilliant Jennifer 8. Lee’s example to illustrate this point: If our benchmark for Americanness is apple pie, how often do you eat Chinese food? How often do you eat apple pie?

My favourite Japanese-Italian joint is Capricciosa, which is located in the North Tower basement in Roppongi Hills. They have a variety of Italian fare, but I am obsessed with their spaghettis (as well as their strawberry shortcake, but that’s a whole other post). Their pastas are cooked perfectly al dente, and their sauces are to die for – especially their tomato sauces. But I’ve also tried their crème, olive oil and squid ink sauces, and they are all fantastic. The pricing is also very reasonable, considering the fact that it’s smack dab in the middle of a very trendy part of downtown Tokyo – at the very least, it’s definitely way cheaper than eating in Nice, and the food is also way tastier, in my opinion. And the service, just like almost anywhere else in Tokyo, is stellar.

So if and when anyone makes a trip here to Tokyo, please be sure to check out Japanese-Italian pastas! Don’t make the mistake of only having sushi, sashimi, ramen, etc.!

Konichiwa!

Can I just stay here? I want to just stay here. I love being in Tokyo! No, actually, I’ve been to a couple other cities, which I’ve also liked, so it’s more accurate to say that I love being in Japan. It’s totally beyond words.

Got here Thursday night, local time, and I’m totally in love. Have been downing Japanese candy (strawberry chocolates in particular) like it’s my job and I’m so happy to see my mom again!

And because I just got here from France, I can’t help but compare. Like Europe, the women here put a lot of care into their appearance, except the Japanese aesthetic is more detailed – and more deliberate, if you will. They are perfectly coiffed and made up, and their outfits are stylishly elaborate. Tokyo is so chic, and I love to people-watch here. I’m not even just talking about the eccentrically attired gyaru and Gothic Lolitas in Harajuku – the street fashion is mind-blowing. So creative and full of character! How much time does it take to look like that every day? A lazy person like me wouldn’t know. Plus in the evenings there are occasionally women who walk around in their beautiful kimonos, no doubt on their way to some special event or other.
The people here seem to love dogs as much as the French do, particularly of the compact variety. All the outrageous makeup and subculture apparel in Japan can’t bring as much attention as a couple dogs. We were taking my “cousins” (my aunt and uncle’s two pugs) out for a stroll, and people would be totally enraptured by them, walking by us, stopping to play with them, squealing, “Kawaii! Oh, kawaiiiiiiiii!!!” A lot of people have little canine friends here, but Tokyo is way cleaner than Nice because pet owners actually pick up after their dogs, and there are signs every so often both in English and Japanese asking that they do so. My aunt and uncle even bring a bottle of water when they walk their dogs to dilute their pee after they’ve gone.

Am also a huge fan of the subway system – it’s so developed and you can literally get anywhere you want in the city. I wish the TTC were like that. It sort of seems confusing at first both because of the language barrier and because there are like, a million lines, but it’s not hard to get the hang of it. The seats are cushioned and warm, and the hanging handles are way easier for me to reach than their North American counterparts – hee. Plus there are LCD screens that clearly illustrate the line, where your next stop is, how long it’s going to take to get there, which side the doors will open on and which lines connect to the one you’re currently on. And the announcer that recites all this information speaks both Japanese and English. Everything is really precise. The subway cars also stop in exactly the same spot every time, and there are markers on the platforms for where each individual subway car stops, so you can line up to get into the car that will be closer to whichever exit you will get off on later.

Sugoi!

I'm heading to the land of peace signs and slammin' electronics (Tokyo) for Christmas! SO EXCITED!

My Aunt K has been dying to see my mum for ages and I was whining to her pathetically about having to spend Christmas alone, so she invited us to go visit her and my uncle. I'm so pumped to see my mom I can't even tell you. It's almost a little embarrassing. And I'm incredibly thankful that I won't have to stay in one of those cells in walls as seen in America's Next Top Model, because my relatives have a house there.

Tokyo is such a fascinating city because the culture is so unique. I mean, people say that Toronto mirrors New York and Montreal/Quebec are a little like Europe, but Tokyo really is in a category all its own. The fashion is so interesting and the food is so good. During my two weeks there, I plan to:

*people-watch in Harajuku
*go shopping in Shibuya and Roppongi Hills
*see the Christmas lights at Shinjuku and Shiodome
*soak in a natural spring
*pick up some Japanese phrases
*eat my way through the city!

Any other suggestions?