Last Supper

(Tokyo. Day 4.)

The last day was a quick one - rested and revitalized, there was no press today. Just the impending cross-globe flight to NYC to hit the press trip over on that side of earth. Koji had some work to do, so after Corey and I packed our luggage - we decided to hit whatever we could find randomly.

In Shibuya, you can pretty much walk anywhere and eat really well. Avoid stuff that seems familiar - hit a place that you can’t read a single character of, or only mildly can make out the pictures of what you’re pointing at to order. I can speak enough Japanese to get by… in a restaurant… when the meal is over… so the point method works. I promise. 

The last restaurant meal for us was the place pictured. What’s really cool about a lot of the restaurants you’ll find in Shibuya that serve traditional foods, is that there’s a big vending machine where you just pump your money into it- and pick what you want by picture or name, not unlike picking a soda from a machine. 

My lunch was something like a mashup of things I’ve consumed past - with some twists. The noodles were texturally somewhere in between ramen and udon, but more spirally in look. The broth was a really thick miso based stock that had melted down butter in it - this sauce could have been a soup in itself; it was the best broth in a soup I think i’ve ever eaten. Really orange-yolked hard-boiled eggs, nori, some Japanese pickles, vegetables on top, a slice of pork, and the paradoxical American corn adorned the viscous broth - I loved it. Half way down, I was painfully stuffed. That was some serious broth.

We got to the airport only to find - poof. 3 hour flight delay. We flew to Japan without a problem (aside from the puking girl next to me… see a few episodes earlier), and now that we were trying to leave - it was going to be tricky. The seats we wanted needed 2 hours to retrieve for some reason, so we went into the airport food mall… which was pretty impressive. 

We had maguro and otoro nigiri, then each picked a main: my dish was unagi-don (grilled eel on top of rice), soba, some Japanese pickles, and the soba condiments and sauce. Normally, I will never eat anything from an airport terminal, plane, or anything near a restaurant - unless I’m: a. out of the stuff I packed to hold me over until a better meal, b. starving and sick of the healthy-crap I packed, or c. I know it’ll be real quality stuff. 

This was quite respectable for an airport restaurant - better than anything I’ve had in a US airport.

We had our final Matcha Frapps (probably around number 10 for me and Corey); Koji stuck with us till the bitter end - then it was NYC here we come.

Sake-Stomach-Soup 

(Tokyo. Day 3. Part 2.)

Shrimp-mayo again. Happy, little fried-nuggets of shrimpy-goodness; these were way smaller than the ones from the first night, but just as amazing nonetheless - the bed of greens and sprinkles of green onion were a good compliment. The duck (with the fat) skewered with wasabi was a good laugh. A good laugh in the sense that every person who took a bite (after about 3-5 seconds) was immediately invaded upward-nasal-style with a kick of some serious wasabi-ness. This is what I imagine Steve-o’ lines of wasabi felt like; every single person at the table had the same “Holy shit!- but I’m trying to maintain composure, red-as-a-beat face on.” Terrific.

Salted grilled beef, then karage (Japanese fried chicken) - which, is one of my favorites in Japan. The crunch and crisp on the outside was salty and hard; the inside was super juicy - having all spectrums of chicken meat inside. 

Several dishes before the karage and beef, we were all already full - Shochu-rocks and Kirin Heartland still flowing - then. more… food… Corey was half passed out against the wall (not from booze - but food); then there’s me wishing I were wearing a sweatsuit thanks to the ever-shrinking-waistband, choking my insides. 

A salad of what I think were some mix of (by this point difficult to distinguish) Japanese greens with oysters and sliced nori; then tuna tartare with sesame seeds, green onion, avocado, and Japanese cucumber that were terrific (our food comrades mixed the whole thing up into a delightful mush). I think this grilled fish we had next with daikon and lemon was Hokke? I definitely inquired - but running on minimal sleep and Japanese booze made the Swedish-sounding fish name… sound fuzzy to memory. 

The finale! I’ve had almost everything I think possible in Japan as far as styles of food go; with the exception of Soba. I’ve had homemade soba at home, and yaki-soba  in Japan and home - but never soba in Japan. 

Soba is served cold, with a very specific soba-dipping-sauce in a cup next to you. There are greens (green onions and other bits) and wasabi to mix into the cup. To eat traditionally, you pull out a small batch of noodles; dip and mix into the cup; then slurp (very loudly) to consume. The soba had everyone around the table delirious in over-stuffed, but still-eating delightful madness. It was so intensely good and simple. 

We hung a bit more, said our goodbyes to our friends and hosts - and hit the sack. 

Sake-Stomach-Soup 

(Tokyo. Day 3. Part 1.)

11:30 am was lobby call for a good friend’s incredible magazine (Burn Magazine)… I awoke to Corey’s what’s app text (the greatest invention for over-seas band members; thank you As I Lay Dying for showing us this glorious app) asking, at about 11:00 am “You awake?" 

Anyone that knows me, knows that I usually require a minimum of an hour to be ready for something (I am not sure what the heck takes so damn long… but it just does); so I leapt out of bed a felt a harsh "SWISSSHHHH” in my stomach. Booze soup. It hit my stomach like a cannon ball in the gut; whilst dropping down a roller-coaster; while drinking hot gravy. Not good. 

We rushed to the nearest convenience store, grabbed food, prepped for the day in record time, and it was on to press. Today was a hard day… Corey and I looked pretty beat up - eyes watery, carrying that “don’t-let-the-cab-driver-hit-the-breaks-too-hard-go-splat” look on our faces. And Koji? Our super hard working friend at RR Japan… after dropping me off at the Yoshi-noya; waking from 2 hours of sleep to get his kids up and ready for school; into work to get some stuff done; then picking us both up for the longest day of the promo-trip. 2 hours of sleep. No food. And he rocked it. This man is a machine. Me and C? Not so much…

We pulled it together and rocked the press- some super fun Young Guitar instructional DVD shoots, and other great bits. 

We had to stick to a lot of take away (which, with traditional Japanese food is pretty hard to find outside Onigiri and Gyu-don (we opted for the gyu-don (beef and onions, grilled, thrown over rice - usually eaten with a raw egg on top (which… for two food/booze hung-over metalboys with last night’s Jaeger and Shochu still arguing internally… not today…).

After the final day’s work - dinner time. The three of us all started to gleam a hint of optimism at the knowledge of the upcoming feast-feat. 

Gompachi is a place I’ve been to a few times in the past; I’m not 100% clear on the style it’d be classified as - but my guess is slightly more upscale Izakaya joint. 

(These places are near impossible for iPhone photos… don’t fret, Jon Paul Douglass (www.enthusiasmisnothing.com) is currently helping me figure out what “real-man’s” camera to buy for my food adventures (soon!!!). 

Our diners included: Koji, Corey, Myself, and (!!!!) members from Dir En Grey: Kaoru and Die, and some of their management and publicity team accompanied as well. We’ve had the pleasure of meeting these two dudes before - and I was overly stoked to have been able to do some promo photos and interviews earlier with the two - since I’m a big fan of the band.

We started with edamame and pickled-lotus-root with sesame; onto the sea-urchin-looking deep-fried shrimp-balls. Jaw-dropping fried-greatness here. I think the texture wrapping the mashed shrimp mixture was Ramen, but fried onto the shrimp. Assorted Nigiri was next, along with one of my personal favorites - Uni (sea-urchin egg-sack, or roe). Tempura of vegetables and shrimp (make sure when you eat tempura, you put that little mountain of grated Daikon (Japanese radish) into the tempura sauce. It makes it even better than it already is.)

Yaki-tori skewers of peppers with fish flakes; some kind of mushroom or root (sometimes hard to tell after as many Kirin Heartlands  that we had been downing); akebab/kofte like stick of ground chicken meat; and then straight up beef - all fantastic. 

day 2… or 3? part… 4?

Next was the bar: Rockaholic. We drank Kirin; had shots of jaeger; i had sake neat; sake on the rocks. We hung with the label, bar attendees (all of which dug the band- which i’m always surprised when people know the band - it’s always a humbling experience). Next thing i know… our blood alcohol levels are getting pretty high. I tweeted to tell anyone in the area to come to the bar and we’d play them our new album - we hijacked the PA - people showed up - we rocked out to an impromptu listening party together. Some people drove from out of town to come hang - pretty killer!

Next, i was DJing… i’m talkin turn-table, kaos-pad, bass-dropping DJing. Then i started showing off yoga poses (like headstands in the bar), getting rowdy… 

Then. it was 4:30 am. or 5? Something late.

We all stumbled back to the hotel area, but i knew i had to eat. I hit the nearest Yoshinoya (a 24-hour, Japanese chain, Japanese breakfast spot. I had the classic Japanese breakfast of Gyu-don (beef and onions, adorned with raw egg), grilled salmon, miso soup, rice, and some kind of cole-slaw (that seemed oddly out of place). This actually kicked A-bientot’s ass… and costed like 4-7 or so bucks. 

Waddling back to the hotel slowly, full and grinning to myself a shit-eating-grin (i NEVER stay out this late or get THIS drunk); i crashed hard-and got somewhere around 2-5 hours of un-satifying sleep. Ick. 

day 2. part 3.

I did not catch the name of the next kiosk we hit, but hot damn - Asahi from Japan… it takes me back to every single other time i’ve been in Japan, beat-up from flying/touring/playing: then poof- a wash of goose-bumpery-euphoria; and all my worries are gone (not that i had any thanks to all the aforementioned delectables. 

I loved the tables; the vibe. The menus were Japanese characters with little pictures and the yen-prices; it was such a chilled place: the happiness of a street meat bonanza all under the roof of a multi-storied building, with the loud roar of people just living and having a great time.

The salad (i don’t often see too many salads in japan) was sesame and pepper dressed. The pepper flavor was so powerful and so fantastic (my wife’s family are pepper freaks: hence - creating me into one). I don’t think i’ve ever had a dressing that solely focused on the flavors of intense pepper so much. On to the meat! 

The first batch of meat was something our server said was the best thing on the menu. The delicate greens and onions (scallions too) and salty fried meat was juicy and fantastic. Duck heart was offal-tastic and simple. Okonamiyaki! One of the greatest creations on earth. Apparently everywhere in Japan does it differently… but the rivalry of Hiroshima style vs. Osaka style goes on like Chicago Pizza vs. NYC Pizza; like Varg Vickernes vs. Euronymous. (I love it all… but for Mama, i’d say Hiroshima style wins.) This was like hiroshima style… but smaller (the big ones took 30 mins, and we had some drinking to do after dinner). Okonamiyaki has so many great things happening in it… it’s a batter on the top and bottom, cooked on a massive flat teppanyaki-style grill typically; it can be stuffed with really whatever you want. This one had shrimp and sprouts inside, japanese mayo and okonamiyaki sauce and dried fish flakes on top. This beast won. Best dish of the night. 

I was curious on Japan’s cocktail scene (since the cocktail scene is something so popular in the food spots in the USA, and now budding out a bit in the FL-scene) Koji ordered me a Shochu-sour. Shochu Japanese booze, some carbonated water, and lime. Simple. Delicious. Lime is a thing of beauty. (Back when my dad would take me to metal shows every week at the House of Blues, Orlando, since i wasn’t drinking age- for some reason i would just eat lime wedges. I don’t know why… but i know my dad is a big citrus flavor fan: that must be where i inherited my love for all citrusy, lemony, limey flavors. My cocktail-brewing-buddies back home would have flipped over the Shochu-sour. 

day 2. part 2.

Lots and lots more great press… yadda yadda… 

We actually had all the head retailers of all the CD-retailers from all over Japan come in to have us demo our new album, videos, artwork, and basically be the salesmen of the new record: it went amazingly… but it made me hungry.

Dinner was a place that Koji told us had just opened a few months ago (which is pretty damn rad, considering we’ve always hit places that Koji was able to sample before (most of the time previously with us). It was a floor full of indoor kiosks. It was like a little indoor street food market you’d see somewhere like in south east Asia. Some of the tables were beer crates with little stools; some of the seats were mop buckets; there were all sorts of people in the place… families, people returning from work, fashionable rocker/cyberpunklooking japanese youth kids, and a waiter who removed his tattoo coverers to compare tattoos (tattoos are still looked down upon very much so in japan due to the association with the japanese mob - so it was cool the guy chanced being seen by his boss to compare ink.)

This was one of the coolest damn places i’ve seen in Japan. All these options! There were places that JUST did pork; only served chicken; yaki-tori spots; korean; okonamiyaki joints (which is one of the greatest japanese dishes there is… it can only be described as a japanese pizza - but it’s not even close to a pizza); and then… there was Meat Dojo. Unaji. A place known for it’s preparations of beef. 

We had proper Kirin (or maybe it was Sapporo… uh oh… there was lots of it… i think it was Sapporo- and yes. Japanese Sapporo. Not Toronto-Japanese-Beer) - lots of it. 

I excitedly decided… “hey. let’s eat some here… some over there (pointing)… some over there…” We were going to food hop till we dropped. 

The first dish was beef tartare with green onion, on top of Japanese mint. The beef was all japanese… all raw… and all fantastic. It had crunchy bits of (what i think was onion, or something onion flavored and textured) lined inside of it. It was prepared like Kofte would be… just prepped into that beautiful rectangle. 

My cohorts in crime: Koji and Corey.

Next was the second stomach of a cow. Koji told us that every single one apparently tastes completely different. This one… reminded me of al-dente gnocchi. I know some cringe at the thought of offal - but lemme tell you - this is the good stuff. In olden days, people utilized all parts of the animal; that’s the way it should be. If our poor cut critters on the earth gotta die for us - may as well utilize every bit, not waste anything. The texture had that gnocchi and tripe thing going on. Koji mentioned that the parts that look like tripe (like the kind you see in menudo) are called the “bee combs” in Japan. I like that. The sauce reminded me of okonamiyaki sauce - sweet and savory at the same time… the been sprouts and greens along with the stomach completed magically. 

The last bad boy was grilled beef with japanese mushrooms. I’ve always been into mushrooms… but not like really into mushrooms; pretty much until the last few years. James Petrakis’ Ravenous Pig in Orlando, FL is one of the most fantastic food spots back home; i’d easily say it will go head to head with whatever NYC, Chicago, or SF could throw at it - and my friend Jason, who works there, is always recommending the best of the best at the Pig. Petrakis definitely got me into mushrooms; he uses some of the baddest-ass mushrooms i’ve ever eaten- and since James’ cooking: i’ve been a mushroom freak. (More on the Pig on a future blog, but back to Japan) 

So the beef was amazing. What i love about beef in Japan, is that it tastes like beef; it has the texture of beef (i know these seem like obvious statements, but let me explain) in the states, i feel beef and steak are made to overly soft; an almost hamburger-esque texture seems to be what we’re so trained to be used to for meat. Yeah, a filet is supposed to have a more delicate texture and all; but this beef: it feels like you’re eating beef - and it’s a beautiful thing. It has that nice chew to the fibrous-muscley-areas, and variations with fat, differing areas of the flesh - it’s not systematic - it’s natural. I love Japanese beef - it’s clean flavored of steak - it tastes like meat, and chews like meat. The mushrooms? There is no other description other than “awesome.”

Shibuya-san, genki-desuka? Watashi wa Kiich-desu

Day 2:

It’s rare that the first night i hit the sack after a 6-20 hour travel day that i wake up at a decent hour. The gods of Japanese ancient-lore must have been in my favor when i awoke to a sunrise (and not pitch black 2:57am). My partner in crime, Mr. Corey King Beaulieu-san and i had a plan to hit the hotels’ upstairs restaurant A'bientot early in the a.m. before the press madness began.

(back story, Tarantino chronology to follow:)

I picked up yoga about a year ago thanks to the encouragement of my wife, Ashley. It took a lot of convincing on her part… i had this feeling deep down that i would be the only dude there, to which Ash said “No way! There are always a couple other guys in class,” so i figured, what the hell - i’ll give it a shot. 

There i was sweating, inflexible, and pathetically panting in a simple downward dog in a class full of toned, smiling yoga-women. After my first initial attempt - i put it away for a year… then picked it up again the year mentioned earlier. After my first few classes, i started to take classes from some truly wonderful teachers (Christine, Lewis, Rob, Daniella, Marilyn, (and now) Steve - all at Full Circle Yoga in Winter Park); then i was hooked. 

I think a few of the main moments that converted me to Yogi-ism was my first time meeting my teacher Rob. Here was a dude in great shape, doing handstands with the delicate grace of a swan and the volume of ninja footsteps… covered in Japanese tattoos and rocking dreads. That’s when i felt at home.

The next few monumental success was when i realized that all the gym-weight-testosterone-constipational-lifting was just damaging my body; that acupuncture and therapy weren’t curing my demons; and that my brief love affair with playing basketball (quite horribly) seriously affected my fingers due to numerous finger stuffs from rain-soaked (and heat-soaked) games of street ball. When i started to see quickly, that mentally and physically i was feeling better than ever: Yoga was the answer. Sure. I still have some of my major issues (admittance is the first step to recovery right??), i still have some belly-pudge to go (probably from eating so much fantastic food) - but. I definitely see an ab or two poking out, and i can see myself getting over my borderline-ocd and some of my old depressive moments (that we all, as functional human beings, seem to have.) 

But yes… a year after that fateful day of giving yoga another shot… i really try to make it a point to practice 3-6 times a week. During our year hiatus before “In Waves” recording, i spent al most every day at Full Circle, alternating between all my favorite teachers. The beauty of the style that Lewis and Rob started me into (Ashtanga Yoga), and that Steve got me really hooked into is that as Steve told me once before “Ashtanga really happens in self practice.” So when i can’t get into Full Circle… i make sure i go through the Ashtanga Primary series at home - usually playing classical music (ala American Psycho anyone?) in the background. Paganini and Pantanjali go together like Uni and Rice; like Suntory and Karage; like cilantro, onion, lime, and carnitas. Perfection.

I’m no David Swenson yet… but that’s another beauty of Yoga: it’s non-competitive. It’s not about what you can or can’t do… it’s just that you’re doing it. As my teacher Rob says “Taking the shape of the form; YOUR expression of the pose." 

I do miss the community of FCY. There are some truly beautiful human beings there; who (along with Ashley getting me into it) have changed my life for the better.

(I digress…)

So Ashtanga in a Japanese hotel can be a tricky thing, but damn worth it. Ashtanga to me is like: getting a massage, chiropractic adjustment, and shrink counseling all in one. It makes you feel good mentally and physically; it makes you look good physically and mentally… i’m not a religious man (or an anti-religious man), but Yoga is a religion to me. (Another truly meaningful quote from Rob that i’ve heard) "I don’t know how it works, all i knows is that it works.” (Please excuse me if my quotes aren’t verbatim… i’m on hour 11.5 of my flight to Manhattan.)

It’s funny… i have pretty much the same window view picture of Shibuya from the Excel from every tour we’ve ever done in Japan. (6 tours to date now… I want you, Budokan. Headlining style baby.) 

So. A'bientot. Honestly… i was bummed. it looked like everything i know of Japanese breakfast; but the truth of the matter is that hotel food is never as good as what it’s attempting to look like a polished version of, just a 5-15 minute walk out the front door. This was honestly one of the very few hotel dishes i’ve eaten in years since i’ve gotten pretty serious into food. 

(sidenote. heafy digression.)

When i say “pretty serious” into food… 

I love food. My mom raised me on traditional Japanese food. My mom also however, can make all sorts of fantastic American, Italian, and old-French inspired foods. 

 I meet a lot of American bands who always say things like “God! The food in Britain sucks!” or “Gross! Indian food???” or “Where is the nearest (insert american dinner chain name here) or the good ol’ King or golden arches." 

You know what? People that are afraid to try different cuisines from around the world - to dare themselves to see something different outside of the same factory processed comfort of brand-familiarity, are missing out on life. You live ONCE. That’s it. We need food to live… so why not see how the rest of the world lives? That’s how i spend my life - experiencing other cultures through their food. I love everything from mystery street cart meat sticks and what-kind-of-euro-tourist-is-that-kebab-spit meat; all the way to artisan charcuterie and cheeses made and sold at local butchers… tropical fruit that looks like a popular video game character? I’ll take it. Can’t explain what it means from Indonesian to English? I’ll take it.

When you eat something made by a person… by a face… by a soul - you’re eating all the hard work of that culture; you’re inheriting what it means to be someone from somewhere (not just a meat-product-filler sent in frozen shipped boxes keeping the owners rich- while they eat something else other than their toxic-garbage.) 

I love eating with people. My favorite is to eat the same thing as my fellow diners. Even if the table is a beer keg with egg carton tables, or a state of the art vineyard with some serious swank… I want to share the experience. 

So yeah. I love food. I love eating. I don’t like food snobs… I don’t like music elitists… like i said earlier… you live once - let’s live it like happy Yogi’s (except let’s eat a ton of good food, drink some great local booze… and just live.)

(back to japan)

So yeah. A'bientot… sorry. I saw the chef chef on the heat-lamped food at one point - even he looked a little bummed. That was that. (I re-learned my lesson: EAT LOCAL. Some hotels have slamming food… most don’t.)

Japan has a Matcha Green Tea Frap at Starbucks. It is intensely delicious. No. The Green Tea ones outside of Japan are not the same… this is legit, (i’m assuming Kyoto Matcha? i could be wrong (Kyoto is known for Green tea) and it’s fantastic. I think i had… well… too many on this trip.

We got to Warner/runner/road/brothers/richrussianman-records; did a bunch of incredible press with some great people… then it was lunch time.

Mutsumi-ya (i really hope this was the name of this place… I realize what my strengths and weaknesse of blogging are. I will start taking EXACT notes of dish names, restaurant names, and locations soon.) But from memory? Mutsumi-ya in Ginza. 

It was my mom, my wife and my great friend/manager Justin who got me into the next level of food enthusiasm (where i’m at now)…. but it was Zimmern that made me curious to try more… then Bourdain that made me want to take this stuff to the NEXT level. Bourdain’s books are really the only things outside of graphic novels that I read (I either can’t read… or just don’t have the attention span anymore - thanks video games and guitars) and his books are fantastically written. He can make "FUCK” sound eloquent. I laugh at loud when reading his books, I feel his pain when he reflects on what irks him - if Metallica got me into Metal very seriously… Bourdain got me into food very seriously (but like i said… i’ve always been a food nut) but he’s showing me how it’s done (hopefully our paths will cross… i want to bring him on tour with us - put him in a drinking competition with Corey. Bourdain will lose. hahaha.)

So! A recent Bourdain episode had him in Hokkaido, Japan. I saw something on that episode that made me flip (in a addition to the Chirashi (which you can get a great version of at Shin in Orlando, FL) but it was Hokkaido style Ramen. 

Ramen in the USA… it’s cup of noodles… and other… well. salty college snacks. 

Ramen in Japan is an art-form. If there was a legit Ramen place in Orlando… made by Japanese… I would be there every single day. I’ve had many versions of Ramen in my day: traditional, miso, mom’s, variations from across Japan. But Hokkaido style? It has American canned corn and butter in it. You hardly see dairy in Japanese food… corn either. So when I saw Tony digging on this stuff- i emailed Koji and told him how bad i wanted this Hokkaido Ramen. 

Bam. Found it. 

It was delectable. A miso base makes the broth (similar to miso soup’s ingredient, just used as the soup stock), there is a nice slab of Pork, some nori, the corn, a butter chunk, then those scallion type guys sitting on top. The broth was insane. The butter lent those whole new thickness to ramen noodle soup that i didn’t know existed. The traditional way to eat any sort of noodle in japan is to… well… slurp he heck out of it. You pick up a batch of noodles with the chopsticks in your right hand; left hand makes a bowl under with the soup spoon; pull up a small batch, and slurp it in. I think it’s more polite the more noise you make? 

The gyoza was fantastic. Traditional and great. Anything in dumpling form makes me weak at the knees. And when they’re done wrong? It kills me a little bit… thankfully this wasn’t the case.

(day 1 continued)

The next dish was (if in the USA it would be called this) Shrimp. 3 ways. It was shrimp covered in Japanese mayo (a completely different taste than our american mayo), deep fried shrimp heads (the best part of a shrimp to me; cooked the best way), and shrimp crackers. This dish was something special. The shrimp mayo was probably one of the best damn things we ate that night - Japanese mayo has a sweeter flavor than US-mayo, and it’s far lighter; fried shrimp heads… if you haven’t had them done right before - try it; it rules.

Nigiri. Ofcourse - gotta have it. It’s done differently here; there aren’t mixed “memphis” and “hawaiian” rolls… it’s nigiri and sashimi. Served room temperature. Your sushi isn’t a boat, intended to float in a bath of soy sauce - here, it’s done right. A very thin layer of soy sauce is placed in the soy dish - you dip the nigiri upside down to only dab a small amount of soy on the fish (not the rice). The electric green wasabi that is handed in mountains in sushi bars all over the world are non-existant; the wasabi connects the sashimi to the rice (when the chef feels like it needs it.)

Grilled salmon takes me back to being a kid. My mom always made salmon, rice, and miso soup - THE japanese breakfast. This salmon was perfect.

Suntory is my favorite beer on earth. “Japanese” beer in the USA usually isn’t Japanese. It’s Canadian. Kirin? Sapporo? Brewed at Molson in Toronto. I think it’s the same with Asahi (i could be wrong on this one). Japanese beer does not taste Japanese to me in the USA - here… it is the best beer on the planet as far as i’m concerned. It’s light, but malty and strong at the same time; it is the perfect compliment to the delicate (and intricate) flavors that is Japanese food. Japanese food is about simplicity… it’s about the dish you’re eating. When you order Chicken cartilage fried; that’s what you get - with the recommended condiment - it’s not covered up by side dishes. (This texture may have scared some off - justifiably so though.)

The crab was fantastic - the artichoke mixture stuff was a mystery- but fantastic… very un-Japanese flavor there; almost reminded me of something you’d see in French cooking.

Yaki-tori could be a movement like sushi. It’s a whole different style; there are chefs that just make yaki-tori, restaurants that only serve yaki-tori. All meat… on a stick… grilled? Fantastic thing.

After the half a dozen Suntory Premium Malts a piece, we needed something warm. Ocha. Japanese green tea. Euphoric.

Our night-cap was Hobgoblin. A british pub. In Japan. Ha! I saw all sorts of British style pub grub on chalkboards written up on the walls; a pretty badass guitar player sang the Mississippi style blues - real cool stuff.

We drank Yebisus till it was time to get to sleep.

All in all… quite the homecoming.

Day 1. Tokyo.

Having never done a blog based around my travels and gastro-adventuring, my friends and family have always encouraged me to start something like this up. All of these photos are iPhone photos in (obviously) some of the most un-photogenic lighting situations; so you’ll see the food pretty much as i did… in a semi-blurred haze (not unlike mine, which was induced by copious amounts of delicious japanese alcohol and jetlag).

As of right now, we are sitting in the ticketing area of the Narita airport in Tokyo - our flight is about 3 hours delayed, but the free wifi and ability to finally post some good food makes the weight a piece of… sushi.

I woke up at 4:00am on the first day (whichever day that was) to leave Orlando and my family to fly to NYC and connect into Narita. I DO NOT eat airplane food, or airplane restaurant food (with a few exceptions in certain places), so i always pack nuts, granola, granola bars, triscuits, and other uber-healthy-lame-food. The flying was long, tiresome… actually! funny story (for you, not me):

We were supposed to have extended legroom seats booked from our label due to a current knee injury i have; as all travel goes, ofcourse this didn’t happen- but i had two empty seats next to me.

Next thing i know, a mom and her daughter rush in; mom on the phone, frantic (i think they were late for something for some reason…) flight finally takes off. I take some sleep aid (you pretty much have to on these long flights when you have to get in and get working right away.) I pass out for about three hours and wake up to something odd. the daughter, sitting next to me, is half puking on the plane blanket that is on me. Hooray.

I look over in shock; see that her mother is still sleeping, i continue to quickly get all my stuff out of the way, rush to help find her an airsick bag (good job delta (who does not have any sort of entertainment or room on international flights (thanks cheap airlines)), i continue to help clean her up with wet-ones, sanitizer; push the bathroom line out of the way, and it’s pretty much done. The girl was embarrassed, but the mother never really seemed to come out of her glassy-eyed gaze (she was probably taking the same sleep aid as me.) Not so much as a thank you from mom. 

Oh well.

Fast-forward to Tokyo.

This was my sixth visit to Japan (excluding birth), and i requested to stay at the Tokyu Excel in Shibuya. I am very familiar with this area… it’s sort of what you’d picture of someone mentioned Tokyo to you: constant J-pop videos playing on massive video screens, incredibly well dressed men and women (who, on the very first visit to Shibuya, made me feel like a bum with how nice they were all dressed). The sheer volume of walking people, crossing the streets in impossibly orderly fashion is disorienting every time i come here. 

I am not a city boy, but i could certainly live in Shibuya. I love it there. It’s a mix of old and new (like Japan is), traditional restaurants serving all sorts of regional specialities from all across the country that people from other countries would never have the chance to eat at their non-Japanese-run-pseudosushi-bars. There’s still a plethora of styles of Japanese i have yet to try (and my mother is Japanese - and one of the best damn cooks on the planet). 

Koji from Roadrunner Japan has become a great friend of ours; we know (and he knows) when it’s time for us to hang out - it means an offensive amount of good food and lude amounts of flowing booze. 

Jetlagged, sleepy, and starving (from my last 24 hour diet of nuts and granola) - we knew just the cure. Warazi-Ya is a spot we’ve hit first on many of our Japan tours. It’s an Izakaya restaurant (a style now budding in foodier hotspots like LA, NYC, Melbourne, and others). Izakaya is a sort of less formal sit-down restaurant where you share tons of small bites of different things (not unlike tapas in spain). 

The private booths are lined with wallpaper of ancient Japanese porn-art. Apparently a very popular old art fashion (heck- look at how popular it is nowadays… just more artfully done by the Japanese masters of old), it definitely sets an informal tone when you sit in the traditional booths.

The first dish that showed up was Daikon pickles; something i’ve had a lot in my life, but these have a strong wasabi flavor. The giant beans (not sure on the name) were a cross between edamame flavor and a green bean; the mystery mix of “chicken innards” was a fun experience. Even Koji wasn’t entirely sure what each non-descript little bite was… but i tasted some liver, heart, and most likely some intestine. The sauce that was on it was fantastic. The yellow orbs? No idea what those were; they had the texture of a hard-boiled egg and a potato. Oh delicious innards (i love offal/getemono (the japanese offal… translates to “ugly food”.)

The fried squid was fantastic. I love the way japan does fried foods; very very different even than the way fried Japanese food is done in the USA. The pork and vegetable dish reminded me of an almost Chinese flavor (not in the szechuan sense), but it had that sesame oil/vegetable liquid translucent goodness that enveloped the meat and veg.

(part II to follow)

japan foodblog to begin soon!

it’ll start up soon!

just a forewarning again. these are all iphone photos. i tossed around the idea of buying a small camera, or a high quality one ala ashley/jonpaul; but i decided i would never really want to carry it.

so hopefully the pictures are still entertaining; the food and drink and locational photos i have were all very fun to consume and enjoy.

so once i have some wifi on my phone (i prefer tumblring on my phone) i’ll be posting some adventures.

heck… maybe i’ll do em on my comp (i can post more pictures).

but yes - now that caveat is out of the way… perhaps travel channel will pick me up some year for a show and buy me a real camera. haha.

and yes- japan is still the greatest place in the world to visit. i don’t dig on living in cities typically, but i could pull of living in shibuya without a doubt. 

Inauguration

So!

I am very bad with social networking sites… I do not know how to use face book. But this is me making an effort!

As of now, the intention of this tumblr is mainly to be a food blog.

I love food as everyone knows, and food is my favorite thing in the world next to family (music comes in a close 3rd place to the latter 2), so I felt this a good outlet to show you some of my adventures.

I love all culture’s cuisines; I will try anything that a country or regional population eats. I am not into pretentious food, snobbery, or science-pseudo-Tom-foolery in the kitchen.

I am into what is traditional, local, and current at the same time with food. I like my food with one main ingredient: heart (well… That too)…

I know food like I know music.

I am not formally trained. I don’t know how to properly describe, cook, eat, sniff, or taste - I just go back to the basic roots of being a human (the same way I do music): stop thinking about it, and just doing it.

I hope you enjoy.

-matt