Tofu hell?

During dinner tonight at Ginza-Mienoumi (which, by the way, is quite nice but not the focus of today's post), the subject of food came up several times as I poked and prodded our Japanese dinner companions.

So what do you think of the Japanese food in America? Very big sizes.

What about the taste? Not bad. It depends where you go.

Nobu's not really as well known in Japan as he is in the States, huh? Nobu? Nobu? Ah, Nobu. No.

I guess Masaharu Morimoto isn't either. No.

So what kind of food is Tokyo famous for? I mean, most of the food is "imported" or has different origins, so what's "good Tokyo food?" Tokyo food is "bad" because of the soil due to Mount Fuji. Because so many people are here, everything can be "imported." Sushi is good here because the fish is really fresh. And monjayaki, like okonomiyaki, but thinner. In Korean, you know, they say... jijimi?

But then our conversation turned to the slightly bizarre, as my dad started to talk about an eel and tofu dish he once had here a while ago. Eel and tofu don't sound so strange, right? Well, it's not so much the ingredients as how it's prepared.

Imagine the little baby eels swimming around minding their own business, going about their mundane baby eel lives, suddenly wondering, "Hey, why are we swimming in a confined space next to blocks of tofu?" As the water in the pot begins to heat up - "Aaaah, global warming is real?! Those damn emissions!" they scream in panic - the baby eels kick into survival mode and burrow into the cooler tofu, unbeknown to them that this temporary shelter is really an evil ploy by clever humans to cook them alive.

If we could only get chocolate chips to do this type of thing in the oven with our cookies...

I know it sounds awful, but I can't help but be a little curious to see what this dish looks like... a picture would suffice - I'm not sure I could bear watching it in person, let alone eating it after the massacre.

On the other hand, I shouldn't really be surprised. I mean, I used to live within walking distance to a Dr. Fish cafe (where fish eat the dead skin off your feet), and I've met Chinese friends who've told me all sorts of culinary tales that include lions, tigers, and bears, oh my. So what's a little stuffed tofu?

In and around: Tokyo's Koreatown (Shin-Okubo)

I still haven't gotten used to the fact that the Korean restaurants here charge you for your kimchi and side dishes... But if any of you happen to be in Tokyo and want a little taste of Korea, Shin-Okubo's (JR East line, one stop from Shinjuku) one of the places to go!

Tsukiji Fish Market - From Boat to Bowl

Is it worth waking up at 5AM to watch a tuna auction, browse the market, and eat raw fish for breakfast? Of course! And I'd do it again tomorrow.









Much better footage can be found on YouTube but here are my attempts (and I didn't get run over!)

Workers flying by with tuna in tow, and the auction going on in the background:


Watching people at work alongside the dozens of flash frozen tuna fish just off the boat:

Why I love Korean Air

When booking my trip to Tokyo from SF, despite the availability of less painful, non-stop options, I thought flying Korean Air would outweigh the hassle of transferring and re-checking in (especially at the Tom Bradley Int'l Terminal at LAX, which I've come to realize, is NOT fun.)

Why?

For starters, once I boarded, I was welcomed with that warm and tingly familiar feeling - that air service can indeed come with a smile, and that your time in the plane, though rarely ever pleasant, can be made that much more bearable. (Virgin's also pretty damn good at this. ^^)

I also had a chance to speak in Korean again. From the counter to the gate to the plane. I even filled out my customs form in good ol' 한글, though admittedly, I couldn't understand most of the bottom part, which I just assumed asked whether or not I was smuggling drugs or attempting to import funny types of cheese.

Oh, there's also the frequent flyer miles.

But everyone knows IT'S ALL ABOUT THE GOCHUJANG. Yes, a 20g tube of hot pepper paste does wonders when you're stuck at thirty-something-thousand feet in the air for eleven and a half hours.






(PS. I had to do everything in my power not to jump back on that plane, whose final destination was ICN, after a quick Narita pit stop. Trust me, I considered it. Seriously considered it. Ah, Korea. I miss you.)