Kobe Beef!

Yeah, I know, another post about eating. What can I say? We like to eat!

We decided to celebrate our anniversary by going out for some Kobe beef at a local teppanyaki grill - unfortunately, the name of which eludes me at this time. Well, whatever it was called, I'd highly recommend it; friendly staff, businessmen dining with what appeared to be high-priced call girls, and awesome, AWESOME food!

Updated later: the name of the restaurant is Mikaku.

First, the chef asked us if garlic was OK. We told him it was, and he grilled up a bunch of surgically-sliced garlic chips for us. Fortunately, both of us were eating the garlic. If it had been just me eating it, Mrs. TBF would probably have made me go sleep in the ice machine room.

Then, we ordered the beef, and the chef sliced off a big slab for us. Next time, I'll warn him that I'm taking the picture because the flash went off right when he was slicing and he kind of looked up with a...um...not-to-happy expression on his face. Sorry! I think I almost caused him to slice off his finger.

But no harm done, because (after being weighed to make sure we weren't being cheated) the beautifully marbled hunk o' heaven was sizzling on the grill a few minutes later, and was sliced up on our plates a few minutes after that.

Oh, and the best part for me? The chef didn't waste the fat. He actually cubed it up, fried it up like bacon, and then mixed it with some bean sprouts. The memory of it makes me weep!

Add a Kobe beef chef to the list of things I want if we ever win the lottery!

When we were finally finished with the meal, we walked out to the typical chorus of staff saying stuff to us in Japanese while bowing. Outside of the restaurant, I stopped to take a self-portrait of us...

...with the Kobe glow.

Ice Ice Baby...

One of the many things that makes Japan so great: ICE!!!

I'm talking about ice machines in our hotel and ice sold in bags at convenience stores. I'd go to the ice machine every evening and fill up the ice bucket just because...I could (...and because I wanted to mix us some pre-dinner cocktails). If I hadn't? The turn-down maid would have done it for me...without even having to be asked.

I know...people in North America are scratching their heads. Ice machines? Ice being sold at convenience stores? What's the big deal?

Well, it is a big deal to transplanted North Americans who live in Europe. Ice machines at hotels? Only in the kitchen/bar. Ice sold in stores? Unheard of!

Why is ice such a rare commodity in Europe?

Why? WHY??? WHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?

Bamboo Forest...

The sun was beginning to set as we made our way to one of the many Japanese gardens we saw during our two-week stay. After arriving at the garden, we climbed the stairs that were carved out of the hillside through the straight-as-arrow bamboo trees that reached upward to the sky.

The Japanese kids always make a peace sign when they pose for a photo, so I decided to do the same. Then, Mrs. TBF handed the camera back to me so that I could take a picture of her...

...right after she saw the big "man-eating" spider and spider web that was right behind me that I was trying to shield from her view.

The day's walking tour was officially over!

Twenty Years...

I take a lot of self-portraits. But I happen to like this one a lot - taken in Kyoto on our twentieth wedding anniversary.

I look back at pictures from when we got married, and I think we look like kids. It'll be interesting to see how we look twenty years from now when look back at this picture.

On Ko Siellä Yhtään Suomalaisia?

That's Finnish...not Japanese (I'm sure I'm probably butchering the spelling), and it means: Are there any Finns there? That's what my dad would say when I was a kid and we'd drive by a cemetery - he probably still does.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Kyoto, and we decided to do a walking tour that was recommended by one of our books. On the way to an area of temples, we wandered through a cemetery.

Did you ever wonder where the Japanese are buried? On hillsides...in the thousands...almost as far as the eye can see.

Oli ko täällä yhtään Suomalaisia?

Most likely, no.

NOTE TO SELF: Cut back on the bench press.

Anniversary Breakfast...

On the eve of our twentieth wedding anniversary, and still full from our tempura dinner, we decided to order a nice room service breakfast for 8:30 a.m. We had planned a big day of walking/sightseeing, so Mrs. TBF ordered an English breakfast, and I opted for the Japanese breakfast.

At 8:25 a.m. the next morning (five minutes early), a man in a suit showed up at our door, handed me my International Herald Tribune, wheeled in a big table, and laid out quite the spread for us. Then, he asked us if we had everything we needed AND if there way anything at all he could do for us. "No...I think we have everything we need..." I said, and then watched as he bowed before our bathrobe-clad bodies for what seemed like a minute, and then (finally) walked out the door.

Mrs. TBF enjoyed her English breakfast (she shared some of her bacon!), and I enjoyed the multitude of containers of food that made up my breakfast...even though I wasn't really sure what some of the things were.

My question is this: How the heck do Japanese people stay so thin? Come to think of it...

I ate like a pig on this trip, and I managed to only gain about half a kilo (1 lb.).

I Want..I Want...I WANT!

Here's my latest addition to..."The Official List Of Things I Want If I Ever Win The Lotto": my very own Japanese tempura chef.

Oh, and don't give me that crap about fried foods being unhealthy for you. I mean look at our tempura chef from our first night in Kyoto. Surely he makes tempura for himself a few times per week, and...HE'S TINY. I'm not saying he would be my very own "pocket tempura chef", but he would definitely fit into the 1-liter Ziploc bag that holds the liquids in my carry-on bag. If I had to venture a guess, I would put him at less than 5' tall and well under 100 lbs.

The tempura meal was great. The chef was in charge of cooking for about twelve people, and he somehow managed to keep straight what he was cooking for each person (with nothing written down), and managed to time the food so that everybody got everything in a well-paced manner. For example, he'd put some things that looked like fried grapes on our plate while saying "...gingko nuts". Then, he'd serve other people, throw more things into the copper vat of oil, walk out the little door located behind him in the picture and disappear for about a minute (to do god knows what) and eventually put a few more things on our plates that turned out to be "...some kind of mushroom".

"Some kind" of mushroom? What the heck does that mean? Poison mushrooms? Well, obviously not because I lived to tell the tale. Unless, that is, that they're poison mushrooms that cause a delayed....and sudden...

...dea

Wasn't It Nice Of Me...

...to grow my very own "Japanese flag" on my left cheek during our first few days in Japan? The thing was huge! I'm talking Mount Fuji huge!!! And...I couldn't stop touching it! It was kind of like the big mole Fred Savage has on his face in the Austin Powers movie. People (including Mrs. TBF) would talk to me, and instead of looking me in the eyes, they would be staring cross-eyed at my "flag".

Even a part of my box lunch on the train from Tokyo to Kyoto was hypnotized by it!

TBFi Like Sukiyaki...

Sukiyaki may now be my favorite Japanese food. Yes, I love sushi. However, there's something wonderfully decadent about simmering assorted veggies and meat in stock and then dipping them in a beaten raw egg before eating it. Oh, and the absolute best part? A cube of fat is cut off of the beef and...left to dissolve in the broth before you begin eating. Be still my clogged-artery, beating heart!

SSSSLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! I'm tingling!!!

We went for a late lunch to this GREAT sukiyaki place in the Asakusa area of Tokyo called Chin-ya. It's been around since 1880, so we figured that they'd know what they were doing.

Upon entering the restaurant, we were greeted by a man who spoke absolutely ZERO English, but managed to communicate with us by rambling in Japanese, pointing to things, and charades. We took off our shoes, pointed to sukiyaki on a sign that was written in English, and then were ushered to an elevator. When we got out of the elevator, a lady in a kimono greeted us and brought us to our own little private room for our meal.

The lady in the kimono seemed to speak some English, but the fluency of her English was very misleading. I find this to be the case in many countries when we're traveling. As long as we stuck to "the script", there was no problem. "Hot tea, o' cord?" she asked. "Hot..." we replied. No problem... However, if I would have asked her something like "How many cups of tea do you serve during a typical day?" it would have been met with a blank stare.

The lady got our meal started for us, showed us what to do, and then handed me a laminated piece of paper with instructions to use the phone in our room to let them know if we needed anything. This was a fairly common practice throughout Japan in places when people didn't speak English. We'd be handed a piece of paper with something written in English, and then we'd just point at our choice (i.e. SPICY or NOT SPICY). The stock thickened, the meat and veggies cooked, we dipped, and we ate. It was nirvana.

When we were done, I picked up the phone, listened as somebody said something in Japanese, then I blurted out "U-MA-MI-CHI...," and the kimono-lady showed up at our door seconds later...bowing. There was a little brochure in our room containing information about the restaurant, and it also had a little section with English phrases translated into Japanese. So, I gave it a whirl:

Gochiso-sama Deshita. Kaikei O Shite Kudasai.
(I have enjoyed my dinner. Please let me have the bill.)

The kimono-lady, much to my surprise, seemed to understand me because I had the bill in front of me a few seconds later.

We were walking out of the restaurant a few moments later to a chorus of staff saying things to us in Japanese while bowing. And then we were back on the streets of Tokyo feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

Who The Hell Is That?

We were on a boat cruising up the river in Tokyo toward Asakusa. I whipped out the quickPod and snapped a self-portrait of me, Mrs. TBF, and...some random American lady.

Well...at least she smiled.

So Much For Living In Japan!

Whenever I visit a new place, I always try to get a feel as to whether I could see myself living there or not. It only took a couple of days in Japan for me to determine that I could definitely live there. To me it seemed as if Japan had used Switzerland as their model country, and then they tried to improve on all the little things that I don't like about Switzerland, but I'm not going to get into all that now because Mrs. TBF has asked me to not "break bad" on Switzerland.

I'm a big city guy, and Tokyo is now officially in my top five "cities where I could live" along with Chicago, Paris, London, and Honolulu!

A city of 12+ million people where I tower over 99% of the population, with all the sushi/sukiyaki/tempura/noodles/etc. I could eat, baseball, and Japanese schoolgirl uniforms would suit me just fine. The Japanese language sounded like something I could learn (a Japanese-American doctor in Kyoto told me that Japanese is actually fairly easy to learn to speak), I got used to the bowing-every-two-minutes thing, a constantly squeaky-clean bum was a pleasure, and I liked the hot wash cloths before every meal.

Living there? No problem!

I could get used to the driving on the other side of the road thing (probably wouldn't even have a car), I'd learn to duck to avoid hitting my head on something every three minutes, and I'd even welcome the ever-present danger of a civilization-ending earthquake.

I even broached the topic with Mrs. TBF since...well...she'd have to get a job, and she even seemed to think that it was a place where she could also see herself living. That was until she discovered that Japan has...SPIDERS!

We will NOT be moving to Tokyo.

I'm A Bad, BAD Man!

Just curious...

Where can one buy a Japanese schoolgirl uniform...that will fit a 40-something year old woman? No reason in particular...just wondering.

Mrs. TBF: Why are you taking the picture from so far away?

TBF: Don't worry about it...I'm using the zoom! By the way, have you ever thought about wearing your hair in pig-tails???

Serenity NOW!

What could be more peaceful than a Japanese tea house? Aaaahhh...the way the house compliments its natural surroundings; the sounds of birds singing their cheerful songs; the leaves rustling in the wind; the dragonflies flitting across the pond. Just find a couple of chairs on the deck (or sit inside on the floor), feel the warm autumn sun against your face, and sip some of that incredibly aromatic jasmine tea. Yes...just leave the modern-day world, and all your cares and troubles, behind. Just you...nature...and the tea. Give in...to the power...of...the..........tea.

DOH!

Maybe a tea house outside of Tokyo would be a better choice.

Well, there's always Starbucks!

A Light Dinner...

We ate a late lunch in Nikko. It was approaching 8:00 p.m. by the time we got back to our hotel in Tokyo, so we decided to just grab a light dinner at one of the restaurants by our hotel. We perused the window of a nearby restaurant, saw some "plastic" soups and noodle platters on display in the window that looked good, and decided to give it a go.

The wait staff didn't speak any English at all, so I just pointed at something on the menu that looked good and held up two fingers. A few minutes later, the waitress put a huge bowl containing noodles and various other things on the table. I thought she was going to bring us a couple of smaller bowls so that we could share, and then...

...she brought out the second bowl.

So much for the light dinner!

I think these bowls of noodles cost something like $10 U.S. each. It was A LOT of food for $10! Mrs. TBF couldn't eat it all, but...I sure did. Yup...every last drop!

I'll tell ya, I could really go for one of those bowls of noodles right now. Of course, it would be half the size here in Switzerland, AND it would cost three times more!

Not Pulling My Weight?

Mrs. TBF: Could you hold my purse for a second while I while put on my sweater?

TBF: Sure...um...DAAAAMN! Why is your purse so heavy?

Mrs. TBF: ...Because, as always, I'm carrying my stuff AND all of your stuff.

TBF: Awwwwww...thanks! You always take such good care of me!

A Major Award...

Not many fabric softener sheets can say that they...

...were purchased in Chicago, AND

...flew (via London) to Switzerland, AND

...flew to Tokyo via London, AND

...rode the train from Tokyo to Nikko, AND

...popped out of TBF's sweater, onto "sacred Shogun" ground in Nikko, and straight into the garbage can.

Talk about well-traveled!

Nikko

I'm falling behind a bit on the Japan posts...

Our first day-trip from Tokyo was to the "Shogun" area of Nikko. While in Nikko, we:

...walked across a red lacquered bridge while trying not to disrupt the man who was dusting it with a feather-duster.












...enjoyed the beautiful weather, fall color, and ancient pagodas and temples.









...had a coffee at Ernest's Cafe (that's me with Ernest) and made it onto his website. If you go to his website, just click on "Diary", then on "Old Log" at the bottom of the page, followed by "2007.10", and then just scroll down to "Sun.10.21.2007" and you'll see a couple of familiar faces. Gosh, famous in Japan. Who would have thunk it?

Really, REALLY Big In Japan!

With the exception of North America, the Nordic countries, Holland, and maybe Germany, I'm viewed as being pretty big. In Japan, I think I would probably be categorized somewhere in the circus freak category.

Nobody asked to have their picture taken with me or anything like that, but I definitely had the feeling that I was being watched...and stared at. I was stared at by:

...infants who would point at me and then bury their heads in their parents' legs.

...school children who would wave at me and shout out "HELLO!" while walking by.

...senior citizens who had now seen the human Godzilla and could die in peace knowing they had seen it all.

My question is: Am I really that big? Or... Are the Japanese just really small? Maybe, it's a combination of both.

I mean, come on! This is ridiculous. Right? Although, I noticed Japanese people walking under it (at Ueno train station in Tokyo) without even ducking. I avoided hitting my head this time, but I could have used a warning in a few dozen other places around Japan to avoid bumpin' the old noggin.
Then, this picture at Nikko train station. I'm 6'5" (about 195 cm). What are these people, four feet tall? I think they'd fit into my carry-on bag.

We determined that we could TOTALLY live in Japan - we liked it that much! However, if we did, I'm sure I'd have a hard time finding clothes in my size. For example, Mrs. TBF and I went into a Lacoste store, and the largest shirt size they had was a size 3 - I wear a size 7 Lacoste shirt (just in case you're planning on buying something for me for Christmas).

See? It's not easy being me!

Not To Rub It In Or Anything...

...but at least the suitcase that DID arrive had a clean pair of pants...for me!

Only one out of two bags arrived with our flight to Tokyo. We had split up our clothes between the two bags just in case this happened, but, for whatever reason, Mrs. TBF had not planned properly. You know what I mean? One of those things where you end up with a bunch of socks, underwear, and shirts, but no "smart casual" clothes for dinner, and no other pants to change into.

Bummer!

Between having done a better job of separating my clothes AND the advanced Japanese toilet technology, I was FRESH as a DAISY!

I'm not really sure why, but the lady who took our information at the British Airways lost baggage counter just handed Mrs. TBF a Citibank card with 200 Pounds loaded into it for all our troubles. I mean, Mrs. TBF didn't even ask for it; the lady just gave it to her. Nice! After going through customs, we just walked to a bank machine, inserted the card, and got something like 45,000 yen. Sa-WEEEEET.

The bag ended up coming a couple of days later, so it wasn't too bad. We just got by using the hotel laundry service.

Oh, and speaking of laundry...

Why is it that dry cleaning/laundry at A HOTEL in Tokyo costs about the same as a dry cleaner in Basel? Plus, the laundry is done in a matter of hours rather than a week, AND it's folded nicely with tissue on the inside of shirts, AND it's wrapped up all nice and neat in a plastic bag. Yes, that's Mrs. TBF's underwear. I'm sure she'll be happy about this picture...NOT!

GOD...I LOVED the laundry service! If we ever go back to Japan again, I might just bring my entire wardrobe and have it laundered at a hotel.

Oh...and another thing...

Why are taxis in Japan one-third the cost of taxis in Switzerland? Huh? HUH? Plus, the passenger door is opened automatically by the uniformed driver (including hat and white gloves), AND the seats are covered in a white lace fabric.

Oh...AND 7-Elevens everywhere!!! Why are there still no freakin' 7-Elevens in Switzerland, for God's sake?!?!?!?!?

Engrish...

I found English was not very widely spoken in Japan. Correct that..."good" English. Of course, the staff at hotels would speak it pretty well. However, out in the general public? Ummmm...no.

For the most part, important signs are written in both Japanese and English, so I avoided the "rushing into the train" faux pas and all the shame that it would have brought to my forefathers.

Overall, people (i.e. Japan Rail employees, waitresses, taxi drivers) would speak just enough Engrish so that we could communicate. I think I only had to use my Japanese phrasebook once, and I don't think the person had the slightest clue what I was saying, so I just repeated it in English. Oh...and I did have to say Hyatt-oh to the taxi drivers in Kyoto so that they would actually drive us to our hotel. If I just said "Hyatt Regency"...no clue!

Now, I'm not making fun here, but...

The mixing up of the "l" and "r" is just like you'd see on a TV comedy where a Japanese person was butchering the English language. And, it took some getting used to because we're not used to hearing it. We were consistently asked if we wanted "remon" or "rime" with our water - that wasn't too hard to decipher. But there were times when we would be asked something, and I would have absolutely no clue what the person had said. At that point, I would just look over to Mrs. TBF and hope that she had managed to make heads or tairs out of it all. For example:

...bought a couple of great Japanese knives and whetstone at a store in Kyoto.

...store employee demonstrated, while giving instructions in English, how the knives should be sharpened.

...gonna have to Google it because I only understood about half of what she was saying to me, and I didn't want to be rude by asking her to repeat things.

Overall, we managed fine. The Japanese are incredibly friendly, hospitable, service-oriented people. We didn't have even one bad experience the whole time we were there.

But...

Could somebody please explain to me why nobody spoke more than three words of English at...AN ENGLISH PUB IN TOKYO????

Furthermore...

Why is New Castle Brown Ale listed as "Doggy Beer"?

And...

When did the Kronenbourg brewery move from France to England?

Just wondering...

NOTE: Mrs. TBF is embarrassed. She wants me to point out that we stopped at the English pub just for a quick beer (we actually ordered Kirin on draft). We don't make a habit of stopping at English pubs when we travel (except for when we're in England, of course).

Tokyo Subway...

Tokyo's subway system is amazing. Yes, it's busy and crowded. However, it is incredibly clean and orderly. Unlike the Swiss, the Japanese actually know how to form a line. There are lines on the subway and train platforms marking where doors will open, and the people actually line up behind these lines, wait for the people to file out of the car, and then file into the cars in an orderly fashion. Once inside the cars, it's nap time!

I've never seen anything like it. Once the subway begins to move, the heads begin to nod. Scenes like these were played over many times during our trip.

People would fall asleep sitting upright, with their heads on their neighbors' shoulders, or even standing up. Seriously! We would see people fall asleep standing up!!! The head would nod, and a few seconds later the person would be stumbling backwards into another passenger wondering what had just happened.

However, the most amazing thing about it all was that people would fall into what appeared to be the deepest coma in the history of sleepdom for minutes at a time, and then they'd...wake up seconds before they reached their stop and just jump off the subway car as if they had been woken up by some built-in alarm clock.

Oh, oh!

...looks like it's contagious!

Something Fishy...

Now that I think about it, we really didn't sleep very long that first night. As a matter of fact, we got up at 4 a.m. because we wanted to go to the famous fish market and see the tuna auctions.

You got that right, folks...

The alarm went off at 4 a.m., we actually got out of bed, managed to pull on some clothes, got in a taxi, and made it to the Tokyo fish market by 5 a.m. Will miracles ever cease???

We had read in the guidebooks that the tuna auctions had been closed to the public some time back, so we just figured we'd walk around, check out the early morning chaos of the market, and then head off for a sushi breakfast. And wander around we did.

We wandered through what seemed like mile after mile of fish stalls with people whizzing around on little propane powered carts all over the place. We were constantly trying to stay out of the way of the workers, but we just kept on walking past tons of seafood on ice; many types of which we had never seen before. Surprisingly, there's not really a strong smell of fish. Instead, I would just describe the market as smelling like the ocean.

So, just as we were getting tired of walking around and thinking about going for our sushi breakfast, we noticed people walking through a doorway in the distance. We decided to check it out, and we discovered that we had stumbled (by chance) into the tuna auctions. As it turns out, they're not closed to the public at all. There was a roped off area filled with tourists taking pictures and shooting videos.

So much for the guidebooks!

We watched the auction for about fifteen minutes, took a short video, and then took a few pictures of us standing next to frozen tuna. At that point, we began listening to our stomachs telling us that it was time for breakfast and decided that we had seen enough of the market. We zigzagged our way through the stalls and back out onto the street where we quickly found a suitable looking sushi restaurant that was filling up quickly.

Sushi and beer at 6:30 a.m.! Why not?

Kaiseki

I really enjoyed the views at the Park Hyatt once I got used to being so high up. The hotel is different in that you walk into the building and then take an elevator to the lobby which is on the 41st floor. The first forty floors of the building are restaurants, shops, and offices. The hotel part of the building begins at the 41st floor and goes up from there.

We decided to just eat at the hotel our first night. One of the restaurants at the Park Hyatt has traditional Japanese food, so we figured that a drink in the bar, dinner in the restaurant, and collapsing into bed was just about all we could handle that evening.

First, we had a drink in the bar where we took in the city lights. Then, we walked over to the restaurant and gorged on a traditional Kaiseki meal. I knew from reading in the guidebooks that Kaiseki is a multi-course meal, but I certainly didn't expect it to be as much food as it ended up being. I'm tellin' ya that it went on...and on...and...on; all served by women dressed up in kimonos wearing the little backpacks.

Yes, of course I ate it all; every last drop...and some of Mrs. TBF's food too!

My favorite course was sukiyaki which is now rivaling sushi as my favorite Japanese food. I've now come to realize that any kind of dish (like sukiyaki) that involves a raw egg is fine by me! And, of course, we washed down the food with sake.

Here's an equation for you:

pre-dinner cocktail + Kaiseki + sake = coma

We somehow managed to sleepwalk back to our room, collapsed into bed, and didn't wake up for a long, LONG time.