Home, part 2

It's a pretty cool feeling, saying "my house."

I spent the past week transporting my remaining things out of my apartment and into my house. And today, I've taken some time to unpack some boxes and put away my kitchen items. The closest thing I've had to a home-cooked meal in the past 2 weeks was a bowl of cereal this morning, so I'm definitely looking forward to getting back into action.

Japan: The Izakaya

Kanji: 居酒屋
Hiragana: いざかや
Romaji: I ZAKA YA

Literally translated, the characters mean "to stay" and "liquor" and "shop". Altogether, it means "pub." It's Japan's version of where you can get yourself a drink, order some food, let loose and socialize. It could be bottled big-name beers like Sapporo, or craft brews on tap, or sake brewed down the street and bottled with a hand-drawn label. It could be beautifully presented sashimi, or it could be homestyle fried chicken. My point is that Japan's izakaya are as diverse as your favorite bars in the States.

When I first visited Japan in November 2010, I traveled alone. As fun and liberating solo travel is, sometimes you just want some good conversation and human interaction. I quickly learned that an izakaya is the place to be. When you're a lone foreigner sitting at the counter, you're bound to make your neighbors and the staff curious. Here's a recap of my first true izakaya experience in Kyoto in 2010.

On my second trip to Japan, I traveled with 3 other guys, definitely a good group to travel with. It was incredible for me to be back in Japan with some experience and a little more Japanese language skill under my belt. It was also great to have other people to share this journey with. Part of that journey, of course, was bar-hopping, and we got a pretty good sampling of izakaya during it.

思い出横丁, Omoide Yokocho, a.k.a. Memory Lane, Piss Alley.

Located in Shinjuku, Tokyo

 

This is a popular collection of izakaya jam-packed together over a couple of city blocks. You can get ramen/soba/udon noodles, yakitori (char-grilled whatever on a stick), yakiniku (meat/veggies that you can grill for yourself on an open flame), etc. Omoide Yokocho, pronounced oh-MO-ee-day YO-ko-cho, first popped up after WWII in a war-torn Tokyo. It was a den of market stalls, then became a cheap dining/drinking destination, and eventually a really poppin' drinking/nightlife area. This video gives you a good feel of walking down Memory Lane.

What did we consume? First and foremost, costly table space. We only entered 2 izakaya there because there was a 300 yen table charge per person just about everywhere. At the first place: chilled saké and yakitori. Specifically, chicken hearts, chicken thigh, green onion, chicken liver, chicken meatballs, pork tongue, and other stuff I forget. It was tasty, but not satisfying, as is most Japanese bar food when shared among friends. On a more positive note, a tipsy salaryman gave me a high-5 as we squeezed into our table in the back corner.

At the second place: more chilled sake and self-grilled meats on an open flame. We ordered tuna cheek, marinated octopus, and whale bacon. Yes. Whale Bacon (the orange-ish looking squares in the lower right).

有楽町, Yurakucho Yakitori Alley
Located under Yurakucho station, walking distance to Ginza

photo from dannychoo.com

Yakitori Alley is another post-war throwback. I actually stumbled upon one section of it by accident during my first trip in 2010. I got lost in Ginza, trying to walk from Tsukiji fish market to Shinbashi station, and I ended up near Yurakucho station. Underneath the train tracks I found a few small yakitori shops, sat at one that had an English menu, and had some nice skewers and a mug of Asahi. 


On this past trip, the group and I headed here after we got sick of the table charges in Memory Lane. Food and drinks were cheaper here than at Memory Lane, but no more filling. I think we got more chilled sake and similar skewers to what we had at the first place in Memory Lane. Afterward, still hungry, we ended up wandering around the corner and filling up on some spicy miso ramen. At the time, we thought that Yurakucho Yakitori Alley only went as far as the 2 or 3 shops inside this tunnel. Apparently it goes farther.


Ginza Seaman's Club
Located near Higashi-Ginza Station

Sharing some conversation and shots with Fumihide-san

On our last night in Tokyo, the other guys wanted to go out and experience Tokyo's wild and crazy nightclub scene in Shibuya. I'm really not a fan of loud, hot, and crowded clubs, so I opted to stay behind and try one of the bars near our hotel by myself. I saw one bar open, took a seat at the counter, and ordered a Japanese whiskey from the bartender's recommendation, Nikka single malt on the rocks. I sincerely hope that Nikka picks up some distributors in the USA, it is outstanding.


Fumihide the bartender spoke a bit of English, but it was good practice for my limited Japanese. We chatted about my trip thus far, the history of the bar (built from wood and metal reclaimed from old boats), and even our favorite music. Fumihide even surprised me with a complimentary shot. I was really happy to have found my bar in Tokyo.


大衆酒BAR, Taishuu Sake Bar
Located in Downtown Sendai

When the bar is playing Lionel Richie music videos, and a tipsy local gentleman buys you all a round, you know you've found a good place.

The day after I went out to the bar alone, I shared my experience at Ginza Seaman's Club with my travel buddies. They were jealous of my good times with a local, so that night we set out to do the same thing in Sendai. We stumbled upon a tiny place with a big yellow sign that said "BAR," so we went for it.

After we ordered a round of sake, the nice guy in the photos above in the black jacket greeted us. He was excited to see foreigners visiting Sendai, especially after the events of the 3/11 earthquake/tsunami/nuclear-disaster, and wanted to make sure we thoroughly enjoyed the locally-brewed sake. He ordered us a bottle of Hitakami (日高見) brewed in Ishinomaki, a small coastal city northeast of Sendai that was particularly ravaged by the tsunami. I'm no expert sake-taster and I can't pick out individual flavor/aroma components, but Hitakami was smooth and delicious. As was the Mori No Kikukawa, brewed in Sendai.

We invited him to sit and drink with us, and we all talked. Or rather, he and I spoke in a combination of broken English and beginners' Japanese. We told him how we were enjoying Japan, he told us about places in the USA he wishes he could visit. We shared some food and lots more local sake, Mori No Kikukawa from Sendai. The food, however, wasn't quite to my liking. I don't like pig intestines, and definitely not intestines stuffed with natto. All-in-all it was a fantastic night, and our new friend was super-appreciative of us supporting Northern Japan's recovery.


べっぴんや, Beppin-Ya
Located in Downtown Kyoto

 

This is the izakaya that in 2010 started my love of popping into random Japanese bars. I befriended Shingo and his staff, as well as local clothing store owner and blogger Taka, and we've all kept in touch online since then. Some changes at Beppin-Ya from my first visit: some new staff members who speak a bit of English, and a full menu translated to English.

That night we just enjoyed chilled local sake, most likely brewed in southern Kyoto's Fushimi district, chock full of independent breweries. Unfortunately we didn't make enough time to visit a second time to enjoy the food. Their specialty is free-range chicken from Kagoshima, served in a variety of ways. Breast and liver sashimi; char-grilled thighs and skin; hot-pots and noodle soups; etc.


This is only a subset of our bar-hopping experience in Japan, but still pretty representative of the variety of ways to get your drink on.  Dive bars under the train tracks, tiny pub-shacks that fit no more than 8-10 local businessmen, theme bars with impressive collections of bourbons and rums, and full-on restaurants with excellent hook-ups for local sake. Whatever your preference is, just grab your Japanese-English phrasebook, prepare to use a lot of hand gestures, and jump right in.

Home

Oh snap, I'm officially the proud owner of a townhouse condo in South Austin!
Starting at the end of this month, or the beginning of next month, this is will be my new base of operations.

Mmmm, granite

Photo from austinhomesearch.com

Taiwan: Night Markets (Redux)

I said this in 2010, but it bears repeating: night markets are God's gift to the world. The closest thing Austin has to a night market is its vast collection of trailer park eateries. But they pale in comparison to the energy, the scale, and the wonderful wonderful cheapness of the real night market experience.

Just picture something like Austin's Old Pecan Street Festival, minus the live music and the nicely organized tents. Streets lined with carts stacked with exotic foods -- exotic to me, anyway -- or local handicrafts and souvenirs. Carts full of grilled tofu, fresh sliced tropical fruit, fried chicken, and whatever-you-want on a stick. How do you know what's good? Common sense, just go where the line is longest.

And this happens just about every night, and in multiple neighborhoods (depending on the city). I think we tried 3 different true night markets in the Taipei area.

Jingmei Night Market

The first was a small one right around the corner from our apartment at Jingmei Station on the Taipei subway. It was only 2 short blocks long, and not too much of a selection. BUT, there was a good-sized crowd around this cart.

One Mandarin Chinese word I learned on this trip: Là = spicy

Tofu, fish balls, mushrooms, veggies, bacon-wrapped leeks, chicken breast, and random whatever on a stick. Grab a red basket, fill it up with whatever skewers you want, and they spice it and grill it up perfectly. 11 NT$ (or 33¢) per skewer. This, just about every night after a full day of sightseeing, was our nightcap.


Jilong (Keelung Night Market)

They didn't turn the lanterns on this time :(

This was the first night market that my friend Jason took me to on my 2010 visit, and my first night market experience ever. Unlike the standard night market, which has some mix of food carts and clothing and miscellaneous souvenirs, Jilong's is really all about the food (from what I could see, anyway).

And it's pretty damn big, with carts going around a couple of city blocks, right next to Jilong's harbor. I didn't realize this last time, but Jilong Night Market's specialty is seafood, taking full advantage of locally caught fish, squid, and shellfish.

The highlights this time around:

Pig knuckle/trotter meat. Perfectly cooked, the cartilage had a nice chewy texture.

Squid and shrimp ball soup, and thick noodles in sauce.

Crab legs. Okay, this wasn't really much of a highlight. It was too much work for little reward, but I have to feature the local seafood.

Sushi. We actually didn't try this cart, thought our money was better spent elsewhere. Besides, the 3 yellow pieces on the far right... that's not sea urchin, it's sweet corn.

Shilin Night Market

 

You can't go to night markets in Taipei without experiencing Shilin. It's Taipei's biggest, stretching from Shilin Station to Jiantan Station. It's also one of the most famous night markets worldwide. Last time, I honestly didn't do it right. I was still full from lunch, so I was less inclined to just grab a bit of anything and everything that looked popular.

Also, I wasn't aware that there are 2 levels of Shilin night market; I walked around the markets on the streets, totally unaware that there was this underground area all along. I should also mention that I would not want to be down there in the middle of a hot, humid summer.

The highlights of Shilin Night Market:

Oyster omelette

 Fried stinky (fermented) tofu

Fried chicken breast. Boneless, incredibly juicy, and big as your face.

And then there was the star of the night, a tropical fruit of legend. People either love it or hate it... but mostly hate it.

D U R I A N

People describe fresh durian as having a smell as strong and foul as rotting garbage, or even death itself. Public spaces and hotels in Southeast Asia (home of the durian) are known to have signs banning people from bringing durian onto the premises. But when I saw that spiked-football-looking thing on the cart, I had to try it.

The texture is like thick, fibrous custard. And honestly, the smell wasn't as strong or foul as I expected. Maybe it was out of season, or previously frozen, or genetically modified to not smell horrible. But it just had a gassy smell with a faint undertone of overripe mango, and I really had to get my face into it to smell it. The taste was surprisingly bland, again like gassy, almost onion-y overripe mango.

One day, I want to try durian again. But I want the real deal, not this weak sh-t. Hopefully I'll get to visit Singapore next year. And while I'm there, I'll try out the Singaporean counterpart to night markets, hawker centres.

Back To Life, Back To Reality

My 4-week sabbatical from work is over, and I'm not particularly thrilled to have to return to the real world. Having spent 2 and a half weeks in Taipei and around Japan, and then 4 days in NY, I know it's going to be some slow-going at work for a couple of days. Whatever. As I'm shifting back into work-mode, I'm going to keep looking back on my vacation fondly. Here are a few key takeaways from this trip.


Asian Bakeries

(from Wikipedia)

They are everywhere around Taipei, and they are absolutely great. The assortment of pastries they all make is outstanding -- from butter croissants and egg tarts to savory buns topped with delicious dried shredded pork. And they make for a quick and very cheap breakfast, or nighttime snack. 85˚C Cafe, one of the many bakeries we tried out, has a pretty big presence around Taiwan and has even expanded out to southern California.

Just as impressive were the Japanese bakeries. We probably went inside every bakery we spotted on our way to/from train and subway stations. While the Taiwanese bakeries excelled in savory pastries, Japan had excellent sweet ones. My favorites: melon bread and preserved sakura (cherry blossom) buns.


The Abundance of Ramen Shops

My best analogy is "ramen is to Japan as pizza is to NYC." There's a ramen joint on every street corner, in every food court, at every train/subway station. On my 2010 trip, I only had 2 bowls or ramen, both in Shinjuku, Tokyo. I lost count of how many bowls we had on this trip. But the best bowl I had was from a shop at the top of Kyoto Station.

I should note that the awesome architecture of Kyoto Station was another takeaway of this trip

The 10th floor of the Isetan department store at Kyoto station has a section of 7 independent ramen shops, they call it the Kyoto Ramen Koji. Each specializes in different regional ramen styles, this site has a really good write-up on it. Menya Iroha's #1 specialty is Toyama style shoyu (soy sauce flavored broth) ramen seasoned and colored with black sesame. Wannabe-hipster that I am, I shunned the mainstream choice and went for their #2 most popular bowl, shio (salt flavored broth) ramen topped with dried white shrimp.

I had this bowl probably on day 9 or 10 of our stay in Japan, and I was starting to get a little tired of ramen. But this particular bowl was my first exposure to salt-flavored ramen, and I was surprised at how light it was compared to my usual choices of tonkotsu ramen (thick broth made with pork bone marrow) or miso ramen.


Taiwanese 20-Something Style

Ximending, the hotspot for Taipei's youth (once they're out of classes, anyway)

Here are some essential clothing items you need to fit in with today's Taiwanese youth:
- Acid-wash jeans, slim or skinny fit
- Horn-rimmed glasses with no lenses
- Samsung Galaxy Tab smartphone
- PSP or PS Vita handheld video game consoles

And men, there's one absolutely indispensable item

(courtesy of R. Tao)

- Shoulder bag that could pass for a bulky purse in the USA (for men). Want to buy one for yourself?.


Don't Call It Saké

Sendai, Represent

This is actually something I've known earlier, but I constantly forgot about whenever we popped into a bar. In English, we refer to Japanese rice wine as "saké." But in Japan, saké is more of a general term for liquor. So if you ask a bartender in Japan for saké, you'll get a confused face in return. Over there, you ask for "nihonshu" (日本酒).

We were first reminded of this on a night out in downtown Sendai. If that name sounds familiar, it's because it's the largest city near the epicenter of the 3/11 earthquake and tsunami that hit the northeast coast of Japan's main island last year. I wanted to expand our trip beyond just Tokyo and Kyoto, and I know Tohoku (northern region of Japan's main island) is still in recovery from the disaster and could really use tourists.

Downtown Sendai was fully operational, people were out and about doing their thang, and you'd think that nothing ever happened. One night we went out for a drink at a random bar, ordered some saké nihonshu, and we got to talking with the really nice guy in the photo above... or rather he and I talked in fractured Japanese and broken English while I translated for my friends. Anyway, he was very proud of his city, its delicious local food and fantastic rice wine (both of which he gladly shared with us), and he was very appreciative of us foreigners going out of our way to enjoy Sendai.

Did I mention that the saké from Sendai is fantastic? Great quality, smooth and aromatic, and I never got a hangover.


In the coming weeks, I'll share some more about my trip and other cool discoveries, fun experiences, good eats, and so on.

I Don't Want To Come Home

Tonight's our last night in Kyoto. Tomorrow we catch the bullet train back to Tokyo to spend the night and fly back to the States on Tuesday morning.

I really, seriously do not want to leave Japan yet; I've gotten pretty comfortable here. Comfortable enough to the point that when I zone out on a JR train, I think for a split-second that I'm on an NYC #7 train leaving Flushing Main St station (Chinatown). As soon as I hear the nasal conductor voice say "Mamonaku eki wa, Kyoto desu" I snap out of it.

Please don't make me come home. I could make a really good salaryman. Or a store clerk, I'm good at shouting "Irasshaimase dozo" and other gibberish.

Then again, Japan makes me feel poor and unfashionable. Maybe I've been here too long, my bank account can only take so much blood-letting.

Banane Pézé (Fried Plantains)

Haiti calls it Banane Pézé (pronounced bahn-ahn pay-zay). Spanish-speaking countries around the Caribbean call it Tostones. But for English-speakers, it's just fried plantains.

For those of you who aren't so familiar with Afro-Caribbean or Latin American foods, plantains are a relative of the bananas we eat as fruit, or Cavendish bananas. But plantains have a lot more starch than Cavendish bananas and are not eaten raw. In Haitian cuisine, it's as popular of a side dish as potatoes are to Americans.

In stores, you might see them looking deep green, or yellow, or yellowish with black splotches. This correlates with the plantains' ripeness and sweetness. When they're unripe and green, they're super starchy and not very flavorful. When they start going black, they're overripe and get too sweet for me to handle. A good yellow is my ideal.

Growing up, I'd have boiled plantains with almost every dinner. But once in a while, at some Thanksgivings, my aunt would make banane pézé. So making this as a side dish for some friends' Thanksgiving dinner party definitely brought back some memories.

It's a really simple recipe. First, wash and peel the plantain. The easiest way to peel it is to chop off the stem and end, cut a shallow slit from end to end, and pull off the peel and any lingering strands. Chop the plantain into 1-inch rounds.

In some good frying oil (grapeseed, sunflower, peanut, etc), fry each piece of plantain until it's just barely golden brown on each side. When they're golden, remove them from the skillet and let them cool for a minute. Keep the oil hot, you're not done yet.

When they're cool enough to handle, flatten them. A lot of Haitian families have a complicated piece of hardware for the sole purpose of making banane pézé. It's basically 2 pieces of wood connected by a hinge. I just used some wax paper and 2 cheap wooden coasters.

Return the flatten plantain pieces to the oil and fry on each side until they've turned golden-brown. When they're done, remove them from the pan, dry them on some paper towels, and season with salt and pepper.

Serve fresh and hot.

Irish Beef and Guinness Stew

I'm not one to make New Year resolutions. Not necessarily because I think that self improvement should be a year-round thing. Maybe I agree with Tyler Durden's line from Fight Club, "Self-improvement is masturbation." (I joke, of course)

But I did promise to myself that I would try to experiment more frequently and get more content on this thing. I've been falling into a recipe-rut, where I make the same things pretty frequently. Granted I was trying out a pretty strict workout schedule for the past few months that didn't leave me much time when I get home from work. But that's over with, and I'm ready to get creative again.

That being said, this is a recipe that I spent some time on over the past few months, working from a recipe posted by a more established Austin food/recipe blogger. It was great because I could get it started before working out and let it simmer during the workout. And remember that I'm a big fan of braising/stewing.

Things that I learned while trying to get this recipe down pat:

1. Fattier pieces of stew-cut beef are ideal. If it's too lean, the meat gets too dry in the end. Some time I'll try some cut of beef that's not pre-diced and experiment with some chuck vs. round. I also want to try this with a more traditional Irish meat: lamb.
2. The more time you have, the better.
3. Parsnips are freaking delicious. It's like a cross between a carrot, a potato, and a turnip. They're especially great when roasted.