A Change of Pace
For some reason, I've put a mental boundary on my blogging recently. I'm always thinking I should keep it to the surface, only write about travels, weird experiences, novelty stories that the kids back home might have a laugh at. But in the meantime, I've effectively forgotten the joy of blogging for me, for my sanity, for my own self-reflection. I'm gonna give it a go again.
Yesterday was Travis's 26th birthday, so the gang, including Jules, Hessen, Jody, and Jason met up for dinner at a needle-in-a-haystack French restaurant on Hondori. The others had already been to this place once or twice, and had nothing but good things to say, including ridiculous stories of free whiskey and red pepper creme brule. So despite having just 4000 yen in my wallet, I settled on spending 3150 of it on a lovely birthday dinner. As expected, no complaints could be made about the food. The chef who owns the restaurant lived and studied culinary arts in Europe for four years some time ago, so he speaks a bit of English and a little French. The menu is always a set course, which changes monthly with the seasonal foods. Last night our first course was fried clams in a blue cheese sauce, with cucumbers and crispy green beans on the side. Next came a lightly baked white fish in a mushroom cream sauce, then the most amazing wild rice I have ever tasted topped with foie gras. Then he surprised us with steamed whole shrimp (complete with head and shell), and finally, we thought, a delicate chocolate mousse for dessert. Everything was lovely.
We're chatting about the discrepancy is quality between the book and movie of The Beach and Fear and Loathing, having a good time, and soon all the Japanese customers have gone home. Yoshi (the chef) then emerges with a bottle of chianti for the table.
"Now all the Japanese are gone! Let's drink!" he proclaims. Cheers from the foreigners.
2 minutes later, he gets up and returns with a second bottle, accompanied by the largest hunk of blue cheese I have ever seen, which he plops on a plate with 6 spoons.
"Sorry, no crackers," he says. That's okay! More cheers from the foreigners (drool from Hessen).
Perhaps you can't quite appreciate the value of a large block of stinky cheese naked on a plate in the middle of a table until you've lived in Japan, where the only cheese anyone recognizes is Camembert or processed cheese. It's a strange cheese-deprived world here.
Anyway, minutes later, another bottle of wine is brought out. And then a fourth. I am in disbelief. I realize this man is a genuine alcoholic. Travis says he sees the chef a few times a week on the way home from work, usually drunk by 4 or 5 pm, getting ready for the dinner crowd. I believe it. At this point, all efforts to use English have stopped, and the chef is slurring Japanese at Jody and I, as we are the closest to him, occasionally shaking Jason's hand, who is seated next to him, and asking if he'd like to marry his 18-year-old daughter, who is set to return in November from a 4-year high school study abroad in New Zealand. He also asks Julie and I to meet her and test her English.
In the midst of the slurring Japanese, the chef mentions something to me about his kanojo. For some reason I can't quite process that when he says "girlfriend," he isn't referring to his wife. He keeps saying how he misses her so much, that he hasn't seen her in almost a month. I don't understand. He slurs something about how his relationship with his wife has nothing to do with love, and I finally see it. So as he sits there wasted and complaining to me about how much he misses his mistress, I want to leave. I can't offer sympathy; it's absurd. I can't even believe he's telling me this crap. Anyway, soon the group realizes we should go before another bottle of wine is opened, so we do. Strange night. I'm sure we'll go back.
Today I started a new lesson with my kids. It's a blindfolded taste test deal... they have to eat stuff and describe it in English. It's great. All sorts of faces and laughing and a few teary eyes. One of the foods I gave them today was 99% cocoa chocolate. Disgusting. I had no idea when I bought it just how serious it was. Who eats that stuff? Baffling. Try it.
Okay, I'm out of steam. Time for gluttonous relaxation with the AC on.
Yesterday was Travis's 26th birthday, so the gang, including Jules, Hessen, Jody, and Jason met up for dinner at a needle-in-a-haystack French restaurant on Hondori. The others had already been to this place once or twice, and had nothing but good things to say, including ridiculous stories of free whiskey and red pepper creme brule. So despite having just 4000 yen in my wallet, I settled on spending 3150 of it on a lovely birthday dinner. As expected, no complaints could be made about the food. The chef who owns the restaurant lived and studied culinary arts in Europe for four years some time ago, so he speaks a bit of English and a little French. The menu is always a set course, which changes monthly with the seasonal foods. Last night our first course was fried clams in a blue cheese sauce, with cucumbers and crispy green beans on the side. Next came a lightly baked white fish in a mushroom cream sauce, then the most amazing wild rice I have ever tasted topped with foie gras. Then he surprised us with steamed whole shrimp (complete with head and shell), and finally, we thought, a delicate chocolate mousse for dessert. Everything was lovely.
We're chatting about the discrepancy is quality between the book and movie of The Beach and Fear and Loathing, having a good time, and soon all the Japanese customers have gone home. Yoshi (the chef) then emerges with a bottle of chianti for the table.
"Now all the Japanese are gone! Let's drink!" he proclaims. Cheers from the foreigners.
2 minutes later, he gets up and returns with a second bottle, accompanied by the largest hunk of blue cheese I have ever seen, which he plops on a plate with 6 spoons.
"Sorry, no crackers," he says. That's okay! More cheers from the foreigners (drool from Hessen).
Perhaps you can't quite appreciate the value of a large block of stinky cheese naked on a plate in the middle of a table until you've lived in Japan, where the only cheese anyone recognizes is Camembert or processed cheese. It's a strange cheese-deprived world here.
Anyway, minutes later, another bottle of wine is brought out. And then a fourth. I am in disbelief. I realize this man is a genuine alcoholic. Travis says he sees the chef a few times a week on the way home from work, usually drunk by 4 or 5 pm, getting ready for the dinner crowd. I believe it. At this point, all efforts to use English have stopped, and the chef is slurring Japanese at Jody and I, as we are the closest to him, occasionally shaking Jason's hand, who is seated next to him, and asking if he'd like to marry his 18-year-old daughter, who is set to return in November from a 4-year high school study abroad in New Zealand. He also asks Julie and I to meet her and test her English.
In the midst of the slurring Japanese, the chef mentions something to me about his kanojo. For some reason I can't quite process that when he says "girlfriend," he isn't referring to his wife. He keeps saying how he misses her so much, that he hasn't seen her in almost a month. I don't understand. He slurs something about how his relationship with his wife has nothing to do with love, and I finally see it. So as he sits there wasted and complaining to me about how much he misses his mistress, I want to leave. I can't offer sympathy; it's absurd. I can't even believe he's telling me this crap. Anyway, soon the group realizes we should go before another bottle of wine is opened, so we do. Strange night. I'm sure we'll go back.
Today I started a new lesson with my kids. It's a blindfolded taste test deal... they have to eat stuff and describe it in English. It's great. All sorts of faces and laughing and a few teary eyes. One of the foods I gave them today was 99% cocoa chocolate. Disgusting. I had no idea when I bought it just how serious it was. Who eats that stuff? Baffling. Try it.
Okay, I'm out of steam. Time for gluttonous relaxation with the AC on.
posted by (K) at 10:06 PM
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