My 8 year old son Eiji's best friend and classmate, Sasha came by hoping to catch a ride to church with us, but we'd already decided to take the the morning off and watch the Get Smart movie. She looked a little sad, so I invited her in. Once in, she asked Eiji if she could charge her DS (Nintendo portable game player).
Eiji, in true gentlemanly form went to the drawer with all the cords and chargers and asked her gallantly, "DS or DSi?" (the two needing different chords, both of which he had). Geek, gentleman..it was too cute.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Friday, May 01, 2009
Fry Me a Liver
Fry Me a Liver
Can we agree that everything is better fried? At Kushiya, twenty-five hundred yen gets you your own little deep fryer and an endless supply of stuff to fry in it. For me and my crew, that’s heaven.
Kushiage is essentially deep-fried yakitori, which in turn is essentially bits of meat and veggies skewered and roasted on sticks like miniature shish kabob. It’s a common favorite all over Japan. You’ll see the yakitori trucks in front of markets and at festivals. That’s good enough on it’s own and no one should spend a week in Japan without having some. It’s even vegetarian-friendly. But how about if we take some yakitori, roll it in batter and bread crumbs and give it a few minutes in hot oil? Mmmmm, if Homer Simpson knew about this…
While you can find these kushiake restaurants at the top of many department stores, this is the only one I’ve ever seen that lets you do it yourself. We were initially a little worried about letting our eight year old get that close to a deep fryer, but the way it’s set up put us at ease.
The table is a lot like the yakiniku tables you see with the griddle in the middle, only instead you get a narrow trough of hot oil encircled by a draining rack. This design was such that we never felt threatened and our son who’s normally terrified of getting burned became at ease with it before too long.
You start by taking a little plate down a row of deli windows where the chefs have cut and skewered any number of edibles on pencil-sized sticks and laid them out for your approval. Take any and all you want; it’s a buffet. It’s the only buffet I’ve ever really enjoyed in Japan, the rest being just a smorgasbog of mediocre food. But this was good food and so much fun. After you’ve collected your foods, you’ll need to get a boat of bread crumbs and another of batter. Get some more trays of different sauces. Some rice, some salad, a drink, pickles, miso…I must have made a dozen trips between my table and the serving area before we were ready to start, but that was also strangely fun.
Once you’re all set and ready, you take a skewer of whatever and roll it first in the batter, then in the bread crumbs. Dangle it in the oil for a few seconds to get a firm shape, then put it the rest of the way in. The end of the skewer will stick up far enough above the surface that you can retrieve it without getting burned. It doesn’t even pop that much. Very easy.
But here is where the real fun lies. Kushiage is not easy to make, but it’s not so difficult, either. It has a nice, sharp learning curve and in no time you’ll have your own technique down and feel like some kind of tempura master. Each one of us thought we had the better method. My family doesn’t realize that I had the best way. But however you do it, you only give it a minute or two and then pull it out to drain and cool on the rack.
Beyond the sheer fun of the cooking is the surprising variety of fry-ables on offer. Asparagus, ocra, cheese, shrimp, beef, bacon, various mushrooms, tater tots, sweet potato, acorn squash, lotus root, okonomiyaki…I asked my son what he liked most.
“I liked that broccoli thing, that egg thing, that shrimp thing and that takoyaki thing, too…that was nice! Yes, we all loved the deep-fried takoyaki (grilled and battered octopus bits). It was our unanimous favorite. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside.
Then for the sauce. We have over eight different sauces including four kinds of soy, a cheese mayo, and a pickled ume (plum) sauce that was out of this world. But if you have a truly refined palate for Japanese food, they say you’ll prefer just a light sprinkling of salt.
We’d found this one at the Kawaguchi Jusco Carat mall and we’d originally intended to go by the Krispy Kreme afterwards, but by the time we waddled out we knew we’d have to take the donuts on the road.
Kushiya
串家物語 靖国通り店
■住所： 〒160-0021東京都新宿区歌舞伎町1-6-1 ｼﾛｰﾋﾞﾙ7F
■TEL/FAX： 03-5292-9401
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/平日16：00～22：00 日･祝12：30～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 新宿西口大ガード店
■住所： 〒160-0023東京都新宿区西新宿1-3-1 ｻﾝﾌﾗﾜｰﾋﾞﾙ5F
■TEL/FAX： 03-5321-6166
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/16：00～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 吉祥寺店
■住所： 〒180-0004東京都武蔵野市吉祥寺本町1-11-30 ﾀﾞｲﾔﾊﾟﾚｽ吉祥寺2F
■TEL/FAX： 0422-28-7735
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/17：00～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 立川北口店
■住所： 〒190-0012東京都立川市曙町2-5-17 ｲﾉﾀｹﾋﾞﾙ5Ｆ
■TEL/FAX： 042-540-8948
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/平日16：00～23：00 土日祝11：30～14：30 16：00～23：00
■備考：
Can we agree that everything is better fried? At Kushiya, twenty-five hundred yen gets you your own little deep fryer and an endless supply of stuff to fry in it. For me and my crew, that’s heaven.
Kushiage is essentially deep-fried yakitori, which in turn is essentially bits of meat and veggies skewered and roasted on sticks like miniature shish kabob. It’s a common favorite all over Japan. You’ll see the yakitori trucks in front of markets and at festivals. That’s good enough on it’s own and no one should spend a week in Japan without having some. It’s even vegetarian-friendly. But how about if we take some yakitori, roll it in batter and bread crumbs and give it a few minutes in hot oil? Mmmmm, if Homer Simpson knew about this…
While you can find these kushiake restaurants at the top of many department stores, this is the only one I’ve ever seen that lets you do it yourself. We were initially a little worried about letting our eight year old get that close to a deep fryer, but the way it’s set up put us at ease.
The table is a lot like the yakiniku tables you see with the griddle in the middle, only instead you get a narrow trough of hot oil encircled by a draining rack. This design was such that we never felt threatened and our son who’s normally terrified of getting burned became at ease with it before too long.
You start by taking a little plate down a row of deli windows where the chefs have cut and skewered any number of edibles on pencil-sized sticks and laid them out for your approval. Take any and all you want; it’s a buffet. It’s the only buffet I’ve ever really enjoyed in Japan, the rest being just a smorgasbog of mediocre food. But this was good food and so much fun. After you’ve collected your foods, you’ll need to get a boat of bread crumbs and another of batter. Get some more trays of different sauces. Some rice, some salad, a drink, pickles, miso…I must have made a dozen trips between my table and the serving area before we were ready to start, but that was also strangely fun.
Once you’re all set and ready, you take a skewer of whatever and roll it first in the batter, then in the bread crumbs. Dangle it in the oil for a few seconds to get a firm shape, then put it the rest of the way in. The end of the skewer will stick up far enough above the surface that you can retrieve it without getting burned. It doesn’t even pop that much. Very easy.
But here is where the real fun lies. Kushiage is not easy to make, but it’s not so difficult, either. It has a nice, sharp learning curve and in no time you’ll have your own technique down and feel like some kind of tempura master. Each one of us thought we had the better method. My family doesn’t realize that I had the best way. But however you do it, you only give it a minute or two and then pull it out to drain and cool on the rack.
Beyond the sheer fun of the cooking is the surprising variety of fry-ables on offer. Asparagus, ocra, cheese, shrimp, beef, bacon, various mushrooms, tater tots, sweet potato, acorn squash, lotus root, okonomiyaki…I asked my son what he liked most.
“I liked that broccoli thing, that egg thing, that shrimp thing and that takoyaki thing, too…that was nice! Yes, we all loved the deep-fried takoyaki (grilled and battered octopus bits). It was our unanimous favorite. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside.
Then for the sauce. We have over eight different sauces including four kinds of soy, a cheese mayo, and a pickled ume (plum) sauce that was out of this world. But if you have a truly refined palate for Japanese food, they say you’ll prefer just a light sprinkling of salt.
We’d found this one at the Kawaguchi Jusco Carat mall and we’d originally intended to go by the Krispy Kreme afterwards, but by the time we waddled out we knew we’d have to take the donuts on the road.
Kushiya
串家物語 靖国通り店
■住所： 〒160-0021東京都新宿区歌舞伎町1-6-1 ｼﾛｰﾋﾞﾙ7F
■TEL/FAX： 03-5292-9401
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/平日16：00～22：00 日･祝12：30～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 新宿西口大ガード店
■住所： 〒160-0023東京都新宿区西新宿1-3-1 ｻﾝﾌﾗﾜｰﾋﾞﾙ5F
■TEL/FAX： 03-5321-6166
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/16：00～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 吉祥寺店
■住所： 〒180-0004東京都武蔵野市吉祥寺本町1-11-30 ﾀﾞｲﾔﾊﾟﾚｽ吉祥寺2F
■TEL/FAX： 0422-28-7735
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/17：00～23：00
■備考：
串家物語 立川北口店
■住所： 〒190-0012東京都立川市曙町2-5-17 ｲﾉﾀｹﾋﾞﾙ5Ｆ
■TEL/FAX： 042-540-8948
■定休日/営業時間： 無休/平日16：00～23：00 土日祝11：30～14：30 16：00～23：00
■備考：
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Geeks are Universal
Living abroad, you come to learn that many concepts and attributes you'd always assumed were universal among all humans are anything but. As an American, I've learned that not all people around the world crave personal glory. Many cultures don't see humor in people's shortcomings. It is only in certain cultures where people aren't compelled to assert their opinions.
But after 12 years of living abroad, I'm convinced that geeks are geeks, universally.
I'll cite examples from my experience in Japan, the most different of any culture. If you think of any from others, let me know.
Japanese are very guarded and private. They have no inclination to spontaneously share their personal details with anyone. The exception is geekdomn. I've been coaching one man with outstanding English skills for years. It's not until years into our relationship that he reveals a passion for marathon running, high fluency in Viet Namese, and a first-name relationship with former president Jimmy Carter. But when I mention I saw the latest Spiderman movie, he doesn't hesitate to divulge his lifelong fascination with the X-Men and how he used to be a manga artist.
Japanese are loath to show-off, but on mention of my five text blogs, my neighbor whose name I still don't know tells me all about her 11 media blogs and here monthly stats.
Japanese staff NEVER make idle conversation with customers, or talk about their own personal lives. At PC Depot, buying a keyboard and checking that it's XP compliant, I quip that I'm not ready to switch to Vista and the clerk ringing me up laughs that he uses XP, too and goes on about why.
In Japan, such behavior would be unusual out side the geek-verse, but within our private coven we're all the same in more ways you'd ever imagine.
But after 12 years of living abroad, I'm convinced that geeks are geeks, universally.
I'll cite examples from my experience in Japan, the most different of any culture. If you think of any from others, let me know.
Japanese are very guarded and private. They have no inclination to spontaneously share their personal details with anyone. The exception is geekdomn. I've been coaching one man with outstanding English skills for years. It's not until years into our relationship that he reveals a passion for marathon running, high fluency in Viet Namese, and a first-name relationship with former president Jimmy Carter. But when I mention I saw the latest Spiderman movie, he doesn't hesitate to divulge his lifelong fascination with the X-Men and how he used to be a manga artist.
Japanese are loath to show-off, but on mention of my five text blogs, my neighbor whose name I still don't know tells me all about her 11 media blogs and here monthly stats.
Japanese staff NEVER make idle conversation with customers, or talk about their own personal lives. At PC Depot, buying a keyboard and checking that it's XP compliant, I quip that I'm not ready to switch to Vista and the clerk ringing me up laughs that he uses XP, too and goes on about why.
In Japan, such behavior would be unusual out side the geek-verse, but within our private coven we're all the same in more ways you'd ever imagine.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Falling for Hockey
Falling for Hockey
Okay, I’ve been playing parent’s hockey for a month, now. It’s my first experience with ice hockey. This is a little side-thing that the rink offers most Saturdays for parents of kids doing hockey on the other half of the ice. It’s great exercise, some of the best I’ve ever had. But of course the skating takes some time to learn. I realized from the start that I was going to have to fall down a few times before I could start making progress. With all the pads, it wouldn’t really hurt all that much. Only problem is: I don’t fall down that much. I spent countless years with modern dance, ballet and ballroom. I’ve also over done seven years aikido, judo, kick boxing. That and five years of roller-blading, I just don’t go down that easily. I’ve tumbled down stairs and landed on my feet. So here is where good balance works against me. No fall—no progress. But on the sixth session, I finally went down, and it felt great. I fell twice, and by the end, I could feel the skills unlocking in me. But the best fall was at the end. I tried to swing my legs back over the rail, the way the big boys do. First swing, but my leg didn’t go high enough. Second—turns out my legs were too tight after practice so when I threw one up, the other followed close behind. People on the other side of the wall just saw my legs go up and my head go back in high vaudeville style. It was the funniest thing they’d seen in ages. I can only imagine. I’m just glad someone saw it.
Okay, I’ve been playing parent’s hockey for a month, now. It’s my first experience with ice hockey. This is a little side-thing that the rink offers most Saturdays for parents of kids doing hockey on the other half of the ice. It’s great exercise, some of the best I’ve ever had. But of course the skating takes some time to learn. I realized from the start that I was going to have to fall down a few times before I could start making progress. With all the pads, it wouldn’t really hurt all that much. Only problem is: I don’t fall down that much. I spent countless years with modern dance, ballet and ballroom. I’ve also over done seven years aikido, judo, kick boxing. That and five years of roller-blading, I just don’t go down that easily. I’ve tumbled down stairs and landed on my feet. So here is where good balance works against me. No fall—no progress. But on the sixth session, I finally went down, and it felt great. I fell twice, and by the end, I could feel the skills unlocking in me. But the best fall was at the end. I tried to swing my legs back over the rail, the way the big boys do. First swing, but my leg didn’t go high enough. Second—turns out my legs were too tight after practice so when I threw one up, the other followed close behind. People on the other side of the wall just saw my legs go up and my head go back in high vaudeville style. It was the funniest thing they’d seen in ages. I can only imagine. I’m just glad someone saw it.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Japanese Buddhist Funerals
Japanese funerals are the most solemn affair I've ever witnessed. While many cultures' funereal rites naturally witness an outpouring of emotions for the beloved, weeping, wailing, screaming and such, Japanese funerals are as silent as the grave.
We attended a funeral for our prematurely-departed friend and client. When we arrived at the ceremony hall, we signed-in at the front table in the foyer. Then we went to a table behind that where we gave them the money we'd brought as a customary offering to the family. The money should be put in a special paper envelope, which in turn we carried in a special wallet. We took out the envelope and kept the wallet. They gave us a ticket in exchange. The ticket we presented at the end of the ceremony, for which we received a thank-you gift. In Japanese society, any gift must be repaid with a gift. In some instances, it can cause a comical echo of presents that goes on for several iterations. But there is nothing comical about a funeral in Japan.
In the auditorium, everyone was dressed in black, seated, facing a wall of flowers and wooden plaques naming those who'd donated the flowers. A large, illuminated portrait of the deceased stood in the center of the flowers. His casket rested in the middle of it all. A Buddhist monk sat before the casket, chanting prayers.
After the monk was finished chanting, he began a ritual of striking a wooden block on one side, and a metal bowl on the other which resonated like a gong. The aroma of incense was overwhelming. Announcements were made, guests bowed to each other in groups, and the incense ritual began. While the monk struck the wooden block in steady rhythm, we each proceeded to the front where where the monk had laid-out some boxes with incense and burning coals. There we took turns at sprinkling the powdered incense onto coals. The movement reminded me of Episcopal communion.
From there, it gets really heavy.
After a period out in the foyer while they re-arrange things in the hall we with back in to stand around the open casket. They made a ritual out of bringing a bowl of rice to the departed. In particular, the rice was in a bowl with the departed's favorite pair of chop-sticks sticking straight up, out of the rice. We all took turns laying the flowers from the arrangements on the body and around his face. One of the most interesting aspects was when we dipped lily petals into sake and drip it onto the departed's lips.
In the end, I joined the other men to heft the casket out to the hearse outside. From there, closer members of the family boarded a shuttle bus to the crematory where they would perform the darkest ritual of passing the bones. I was welcome, but I couldn't bear it.
If someone you know dies, I would recommend you attend the funeral, even if you've never seen anything like it before. Staff will direct you as needed and all you have to do is follow the group.
If you send flowers, many florists work directly through the funeral homes, making sure of continuity between the flowers. Check with your local florist. Of the respectable bouquets, we could choose between the 10,000 and 15,000 yen arrangements. The more expensive of the two included a large plaque bearing the name and optionally, organization of the sender. It may sound a little vain, but in fact to have the names of the senders all in the arrangements gives an additional feeling of just who-all is paying respects. I'd recommend it. Some of the other organizations included the elementary school of the deceased's daughter, various clubs and civic organizations he'd belonged to and his own company.
Black suit or dress is expected, with black tie, white shirt, black shoes, or if you don't have black, as close to black as possible. And as far away from red as possible.
After the ceremony, it is traditional to sprinkle salt on yourself, front and back. They should give you little packets. Do this before even getting in your car. this is of course to ward off any spirit that might try to accompany you home. You don't want that. It's also recommended you return home by a different route from the one you came on.
Bring lots of tissues. Even if you don't cry, you can offer them to others.
And in the end, don't be shy. Be yourself. If you want to wail, wail. If you feel like hugging the bereaved, hug. These outward expressions of emotion only add to the ceremony in ways I'm told Japanese only wish they could perform themselves, but are restrained by their culture. I was the only person who hugged the widow and child and I am little more than their English coach. But they graciously received the hugs which clearly helped. If you're the lone foreigner, please hug. Humans need to hug, but not all cultures engage in it. However you express your grief and support, it will be appreciated and remembered.
We attended a funeral for our prematurely-departed friend and client. When we arrived at the ceremony hall, we signed-in at the front table in the foyer. Then we went to a table behind that where we gave them the money we'd brought as a customary offering to the family. The money should be put in a special paper envelope, which in turn we carried in a special wallet. We took out the envelope and kept the wallet. They gave us a ticket in exchange. The ticket we presented at the end of the ceremony, for which we received a thank-you gift. In Japanese society, any gift must be repaid with a gift. In some instances, it can cause a comical echo of presents that goes on for several iterations. But there is nothing comical about a funeral in Japan.
In the auditorium, everyone was dressed in black, seated, facing a wall of flowers and wooden plaques naming those who'd donated the flowers. A large, illuminated portrait of the deceased stood in the center of the flowers. His casket rested in the middle of it all. A Buddhist monk sat before the casket, chanting prayers.
After the monk was finished chanting, he began a ritual of striking a wooden block on one side, and a metal bowl on the other which resonated like a gong. The aroma of incense was overwhelming. Announcements were made, guests bowed to each other in groups, and the incense ritual began. While the monk struck the wooden block in steady rhythm, we each proceeded to the front where where the monk had laid-out some boxes with incense and burning coals. There we took turns at sprinkling the powdered incense onto coals. The movement reminded me of Episcopal communion.
From there, it gets really heavy.
After a period out in the foyer while they re-arrange things in the hall we with back in to stand around the open casket. They made a ritual out of bringing a bowl of rice to the departed. In particular, the rice was in a bowl with the departed's favorite pair of chop-sticks sticking straight up, out of the rice. We all took turns laying the flowers from the arrangements on the body and around his face. One of the most interesting aspects was when we dipped lily petals into sake and drip it onto the departed's lips.
In the end, I joined the other men to heft the casket out to the hearse outside. From there, closer members of the family boarded a shuttle bus to the crematory where they would perform the darkest ritual of passing the bones. I was welcome, but I couldn't bear it.
If someone you know dies, I would recommend you attend the funeral, even if you've never seen anything like it before. Staff will direct you as needed and all you have to do is follow the group.
If you send flowers, many florists work directly through the funeral homes, making sure of continuity between the flowers. Check with your local florist. Of the respectable bouquets, we could choose between the 10,000 and 15,000 yen arrangements. The more expensive of the two included a large plaque bearing the name and optionally, organization of the sender. It may sound a little vain, but in fact to have the names of the senders all in the arrangements gives an additional feeling of just who-all is paying respects. I'd recommend it. Some of the other organizations included the elementary school of the deceased's daughter, various clubs and civic organizations he'd belonged to and his own company.
Black suit or dress is expected, with black tie, white shirt, black shoes, or if you don't have black, as close to black as possible. And as far away from red as possible.
After the ceremony, it is traditional to sprinkle salt on yourself, front and back. They should give you little packets. Do this before even getting in your car. this is of course to ward off any spirit that might try to accompany you home. You don't want that. It's also recommended you return home by a different route from the one you came on.
Bring lots of tissues. Even if you don't cry, you can offer them to others.
And in the end, don't be shy. Be yourself. If you want to wail, wail. If you feel like hugging the bereaved, hug. These outward expressions of emotion only add to the ceremony in ways I'm told Japanese only wish they could perform themselves, but are restrained by their culture. I was the only person who hugged the widow and child and I am little more than their English coach. But they graciously received the hugs which clearly helped. If you're the lone foreigner, please hug. Humans need to hug, but not all cultures engage in it. However you express your grief and support, it will be appreciated and remembered.
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