The Surgeon vs. The Sturgeon

Tsukiji Fish Market

The great thing about a city like Tokyo is that you never run out of things to see. After a brief Tokyo rut, we’ve recommitted ourselves to crossing things off the “to-see” list.

First item off the list was the historic Tsukiji Fish Market in Tokyo’s Chūō Ward. Tsukiji is a popular tourist spot, but it’s also a working wholesale fish market. Visitors rub elbows with local chefs picking through the freshest (in many cases, still alive) seafood in Tokyo.

A turret truck cruises through the narrow aisles of Tsukiji Fish Market
A turret truck cruises through the narrow aisles of Tsukiji Fish Market

Inside, hundreds of vendors crowd into a warehouse. The smell of the sea greets you from a block away. The aisles are narrow with just enough room for one-and-a-half people to pass through. Tourists alternate between snapping photos, sidestepping fish-water puddles and dodging the turret trucks that zip down the aisles. Old-school wooden carts roll through more slowly, loaded with some of the larger ocean fish and offering a hint at the origins of the market.

Catch of the day... it looks like I'm afraid someone's going to steal my fish!
Catch of the day… it looks like I’m afraid someone’s going to steal my fish!

Fish markets in Tokyo date back to the 1600s, but the current incarnation was built in 1935 after its Nihonbashi district predecessor was destroyed in the Great Kantō earthquake in 1923. In November 2016, the market will be moved to nearby Toyosu to free up the current location for development prior to the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.

The tools of the trade at Tokyo's Tsukiji Fish Market.
The tools of the trade at Tokyo’s Tsukiji Fish Market.

The butchers worked with surgical precision, carving the large fish into perfectly-weighted fillets and making paper-thin slices for sashimi (raw fish). Many used “knives” that more closely resemble a samurai sword than anything you or I have in our kitchens. The four-foot long blades made short work of the even the largest tuna.

The surgeon vs. the sturgeon. Did I mention this was a working fish market?
The surgeon vs. the sturgeon. Did I mention this was a working fish market?

After awhile, the aromas inherent in such a place started to take their toll on our stomachs. Occasionally I’ll come across Japanese food that makes me second-guess my vegetarian choices, but the fish market was not one of those places.

Cascadia-style coffee perfection at Kachidoki's Market of the Sun
Cascadia-style coffee perfection at Kachidoki’s Market of the Sun

We headed outside for some fresh air and a short walk over the Kachidoki Bridge to our very favorite farmers market in Japan. Market of the Sun is Japan’s largest regular farmers market and has the most unique selection of local produce, goods and snacks in Tokyo. We left with a couple varieties of honest-to-goodness rye bread and a hearty beet, both nearly impossible to find in our local area.

Looking down Monja Street on a quiet Saturday morning.
Looking down Monja Street on a quiet Saturday morning.

A couple blocks away from the market, we checked off another of our Tokyo to-dos with a visit to Monja Street. We’d first tried monjayaki during my birthday weekend in Asakusa. This two-block stretch of restaurants in the Tsukishima district features almost exclusively monjayaki and okonomiyaki shops.

Although it was proper lunchtime, most of the shops were still closed when we arrived. We found one with several people inside and ordered a monjayaki and an okonomiyaki—best described as savory Japanese-style pancakes. The waiter started our monja on the table-top grill, but we took care of the okonomiyaki ourselves. Check out the video below to see us in action!

Video: Making okonomiyaki on Monja Street

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

KFC for Christmas

I started thinking about “The Christmas Post” a few weeks ago, somewhere around the writing of Thanksgiving in Japan.

I’ve even been kicking around a parody of “The Night Before Christmas” in my head, maybe poking fun at some of the unique ways Japanese folks celebrate the American holiday (December 25 isn’t an official holiday in Japan). In a country where about 1 percent of the population identifies as Christian, Christmas is much more about the secular celebration—more Valentine’s Day than what Americans think of as Christmas.

In the 1970s, an American visiting a Tokyo branch of Kentucky Fried Chicken commented that, in a country where turkey is hard to come by, a bucket of KFC is the next best thing. The enterprising store manager overheard the comment and launched an advertising campaign touting “Kentucky For Christmas!” Today, people order their buckets of chicken weeks in advance, waiting in long lines on Christmas Eve to pick up their now-traditional chicken dinner.

Christmas Cake
A wide variety of Christmas Cakes

There’s also a lot of preordering and long-line-waiting for extravagant and expensive Christmas Cakes. The origins of the cake come from the post-World War II recovery of the country. NPR recently did an excellent story about what Christmas Cake really means in Japan.

All that said, my take on this post changed today while watching a toddler shoving a cookie in his face at the checkout line. I caught his eye and he smiled big and waved. That got me to thinking about the spirit of the people we encounter every day, which made me feel bad about my “Night Before Christmas” parody.

To me, Christmas is all about traditions. And the great thing about traditions is that they can change as we change. Our families grow and contract and grow again as the years go by and our traditions update accordingly.

Sampson
Me and Sam opening presents on Christmas morning. And yes, that’s a brand new Nintendo!

As a kid, I’d wake up early and start coffee on Christmas morning to make sure my folks would be awake enough that we could open presents—although I suspect my dad was awake before I was. I always made sure our dog, Sampson, had something to open as well. We’d have bear claws or butterhorns for breakfast.

In recent years, we’d spend a day in Leavenworth, WA, taking in the famous holiday celebration in the small Bavarian-style town, stopping for Starbucks Peppermint Lattes both on the way up and on the way back. We’d then host the whole family for dinner on Christmas Eve. This year, we’ll start a new tradition.

KFC for Christmas dinner might seem odd. There are no “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” signs in our neighborhood. Yet, Japan has created its own set of traditions. Christmas isn’t a national holiday, but it’s still a time when people show a little more kindness and a little more cheer.

This week, I’ve seen a hairdresser and a pizza delivery guy dressed in Santa suits and a dog wearing a Christmas sweater. “Illuminations” are popular and bountiful. Twinkling lights and guys in Santa suits yield the same joyful reaction here as they do in the U.S.

The Christmas season is one of the few times we Americans set aside our differences. We smile more, give more and spend a little more time together in community. Seeing the season from another perspective, in a society where the community is always the priority over the individual, shows that it’s possible to make that sense of community the norm instead of a seasonal exception.

So, whatever your flavor of the winter holidays may be, I sincerely wish you the happiest season. May that joy continue through the year to come. Happy Holidays!

Popcorn

Popcorn

Sometimes, in this world of modern gizmos and interconnectedness, I find myself excited about doing things people have been doing for centuries. Tonight, cooking popcorn over an open flame can be added to that list.

We found a small bag of kernels at a store in Tokyo a couple weeks ago, but without our modern popcorn popper, we had to beckon back to our ancestors’ method of popping the corn. So, of course we start with the internet for some basic instructions.

Really, it was just 1/3 cup of kernels, about 1 1/2 tablespoons of vegetable oil and medium heat in our handy dandy Le Creuset saucepan. But seriously, I got giddy when that first kernel popped and listened as each of its siblings exploded in puffed perfection.