Breathtaking sunrises and sunsets from home. Definitely a good new thing in my life from 2006.
Let's see, what else:
Seeing my Japanese relatives regularly. Getting to know them even better, getting to know their significant others and children.
Visiting mom's new house in Maryland, seeing Silvester and Atomers again.
Meeting new people, reconnecting with old acquaintances and friends. I like that in Tokyo, I can still see people I knew in Seattle.
Spinshell Night 2006.
Glitterball 2006.
The new flat with a so-funky flat mate.
Being in a fashion show, being models for a photo exhibit, being on the cover of some weekly magazine in Tokyo. I, like Miss Ai, like being in the spotlight. Word.
MacBook.
Oh and my best Christmas present, gift certificate for an Aveda Spa experience, from Miss Ai!!!! OOOOOH that will definitely be a 2007 highlight.
So much to look forward to. 2007. Here it goes.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Falkor in my coffee
Sunday morning, Ai and I went to the Franciscan chapel in Roppongi for Christmas Eve morning mass. Apparently we had been there as kids on Christmas; both Mom and Ai said "I remember the doorway but not much else" (I did not remember the doorway. It was not particularly memorable this year either). The sermon, about the babies and little kids that everyone was at one time, was very well-done and it was nice to attend church after a long absence.
Our attempt at Christmas Eve Sunday Brunch at the Grand Hyatt's French Kitchen sans reservations was futile, so we walked over to the Hills to check out our options. Roy's brunch sounded tempting, and there was a very delicious view looking east towards Tokyo Tower, so we headed in. At 11:30am, there were plenty of tables open--an hour later the whole place was swarming with families, friends and couples.
Brunch was excellent, and so was the coffee with lots of foamy crema on top. And... who's that... Falkor??
Our attempt at Christmas Eve Sunday Brunch at the Grand Hyatt's French Kitchen sans reservations was futile, so we walked over to the Hills to check out our options. Roy's brunch sounded tempting, and there was a very delicious view looking east towards Tokyo Tower, so we headed in. At 11:30am, there were plenty of tables open--an hour later the whole place was swarming with families, friends and couples.
Brunch was excellent, and so was the coffee with lots of foamy crema on top. And... who's that... Falkor??
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
xmastime is here
“I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.”
It’s a lovely and heartbreaking song, one of my favorite Christmas carols. I never thought there would come a time when I’d be singing it about myself. Not be home for Christmas? Sacrilege! Now let’s bake some gingerbread and watch Elf.
Well, do you hear what I hear? Because I’m singing it now.
This winter, for the first time in 18 years, I am spending Christmas in Japan. There’ll be no snow and mistletoe, no presents under the tree—no tree, period.
Actually, I’m being a bit of a Scrooge. I will be home for Christmas—Tokyo is home again since I moved back last year, after living abroad for a long time. But for me, a die-hard, it’s-the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year Christmas fanatic, it’s just wrong not to take a trip to see family, to watch It’s a Wonderful Life and One Magic Christmas, get up early Christmas morning and spend the whole day in pajamas, eating stollen, giving and receiving presents.
I was an international school second grader the last time I spent December 25th in Japan. Back then, as we did every year, my Japanese dad put up Christmas lights on the roof (the only ones in the neighborhood) while my mom, a Washington, D.C. native, played the Julie Andrews Christmas album and dug out advent calendars. My sister and I wrote letters in shaky English to Santa and learned the words—phonetically—to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
I was in heaven, enchanted by the mix of religious mysticism and materialistic frenzy. It was also a tradition that came from my American mother, so it was foreign and exotic, a mysterious visitor that appeared every year bearing gifts. We were the only family in the neighborhood who celebrated Christmas as something more than just a commercial holiday, and it made me feel special, like I was in on a juicy secret that smelled of warm cinnamon and cloves and sounded of sleigh bells.
When my family moved to the States, to my delight the whole country got as giddy on the holiday spirit as I did. Christmases were often spent with my mother’s relatives on the East Coast, who also loved the holidays, so I came to equate the season not only with sacredness and a chance to score serious loot but also with family and togetherness.
The next 18 years brought the awkwardness of adolescence, my parent’s divorce, the self-absorbed angst of high school, the uncertainty of college and imminent adulthood. (There were lots of good times too) But each year, without fail, I could count on Christmas to emerge from the damp grey Seattle winters and fill me with the wonder that hadn’t waned since childhood. The magic of Christmas always remained with me.
But the Christmas I loved was an American—a Western—Christmas. I thought there wasn’t anything in Japan that could match it. Though I am pretty sure he has the same good memories of my childhood family Christmases as I do, the day held no significance for my father, who’d since moved back to Tokyo. He and everyone else here worked on Christmas like any other day, because for them, it pretty much was any other day. Maybe some people would eat buche de noel Christmas cake, buy presents for friends, and of course it’s a good excuse for parties. But it’s just not a part of the culture here.
When I moved back to Tokyo last year, something I’d always wanted to do, I assumed I’d head back to the States for Christmas. I did this the first year, and I must have been on Santa’s “nice” list because it was as jolly and merry as I could have hoped for.
But this year I knew I couldn’t afford the trip or ask for the time off from the bosses at my new workplace. The prospect of Christmas as just another typical Monday—commuting, hour for lunch, osakini at 6pm—sounded worse than, well, the day after Christmas.
So. I can either whimper and moan that I don’t get to have Christmas my way, or I can face the reality of being an adult, of expensive airfare and job obligations, and try to make the best of a Tokyo Christmas.
After all, this is a pretty cool city. And I’d be missing the whole point of the holiday if I thought there was only one time zone where I could enjoy it.
It won’t be the same, of course. But that’s a good thing, because it makes my favorite kind of Christmas—an American Christmas—special, something I have to work for and look forward to. It will be lighthearted and fun, with fabulous illuminations at shopping malls and special Christmas menus at my favorite restaurants. Hey, that’s a bonus right there—restaurants actually stay open on December 25th here, often with pretty amazing deals.
And in a way, it’s a sign that I’m grown up now. I have to learn to conjure the magic of Christmas on my own, without it being handed to me like the presents I got as a kid, wrapped and waiting for me beneath the tree. After all, it was my American mom who, pretty much on her own, created the Christmas for my family in Japan that I fell in love with.
It’s my turn now to make my own traditions, and see if there are others to share it with who get as much joy from Christmas as I do. And that is pretty lovely, if a little heartbreaking. Just like the song.
It’s a lovely and heartbreaking song, one of my favorite Christmas carols. I never thought there would come a time when I’d be singing it about myself. Not be home for Christmas? Sacrilege! Now let’s bake some gingerbread and watch Elf.
Well, do you hear what I hear? Because I’m singing it now.
This winter, for the first time in 18 years, I am spending Christmas in Japan. There’ll be no snow and mistletoe, no presents under the tree—no tree, period.
Actually, I’m being a bit of a Scrooge. I will be home for Christmas—Tokyo is home again since I moved back last year, after living abroad for a long time. But for me, a die-hard, it’s-the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year Christmas fanatic, it’s just wrong not to take a trip to see family, to watch It’s a Wonderful Life and One Magic Christmas, get up early Christmas morning and spend the whole day in pajamas, eating stollen, giving and receiving presents.
I was an international school second grader the last time I spent December 25th in Japan. Back then, as we did every year, my Japanese dad put up Christmas lights on the roof (the only ones in the neighborhood) while my mom, a Washington, D.C. native, played the Julie Andrews Christmas album and dug out advent calendars. My sister and I wrote letters in shaky English to Santa and learned the words—phonetically—to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
I was in heaven, enchanted by the mix of religious mysticism and materialistic frenzy. It was also a tradition that came from my American mother, so it was foreign and exotic, a mysterious visitor that appeared every year bearing gifts. We were the only family in the neighborhood who celebrated Christmas as something more than just a commercial holiday, and it made me feel special, like I was in on a juicy secret that smelled of warm cinnamon and cloves and sounded of sleigh bells.
When my family moved to the States, to my delight the whole country got as giddy on the holiday spirit as I did. Christmases were often spent with my mother’s relatives on the East Coast, who also loved the holidays, so I came to equate the season not only with sacredness and a chance to score serious loot but also with family and togetherness.
The next 18 years brought the awkwardness of adolescence, my parent’s divorce, the self-absorbed angst of high school, the uncertainty of college and imminent adulthood. (There were lots of good times too) But each year, without fail, I could count on Christmas to emerge from the damp grey Seattle winters and fill me with the wonder that hadn’t waned since childhood. The magic of Christmas always remained with me.
But the Christmas I loved was an American—a Western—Christmas. I thought there wasn’t anything in Japan that could match it. Though I am pretty sure he has the same good memories of my childhood family Christmases as I do, the day held no significance for my father, who’d since moved back to Tokyo. He and everyone else here worked on Christmas like any other day, because for them, it pretty much was any other day. Maybe some people would eat buche de noel Christmas cake, buy presents for friends, and of course it’s a good excuse for parties. But it’s just not a part of the culture here.
When I moved back to Tokyo last year, something I’d always wanted to do, I assumed I’d head back to the States for Christmas. I did this the first year, and I must have been on Santa’s “nice” list because it was as jolly and merry as I could have hoped for.
But this year I knew I couldn’t afford the trip or ask for the time off from the bosses at my new workplace. The prospect of Christmas as just another typical Monday—commuting, hour for lunch, osakini at 6pm—sounded worse than, well, the day after Christmas.
So. I can either whimper and moan that I don’t get to have Christmas my way, or I can face the reality of being an adult, of expensive airfare and job obligations, and try to make the best of a Tokyo Christmas.
After all, this is a pretty cool city. And I’d be missing the whole point of the holiday if I thought there was only one time zone where I could enjoy it.
It won’t be the same, of course. But that’s a good thing, because it makes my favorite kind of Christmas—an American Christmas—special, something I have to work for and look forward to. It will be lighthearted and fun, with fabulous illuminations at shopping malls and special Christmas menus at my favorite restaurants. Hey, that’s a bonus right there—restaurants actually stay open on December 25th here, often with pretty amazing deals.
And in a way, it’s a sign that I’m grown up now. I have to learn to conjure the magic of Christmas on my own, without it being handed to me like the presents I got as a kid, wrapped and waiting for me beneath the tree. After all, it was my American mom who, pretty much on her own, created the Christmas for my family in Japan that I fell in love with.
It’s my turn now to make my own traditions, and see if there are others to share it with who get as much joy from Christmas as I do. And that is pretty lovely, if a little heartbreaking. Just like the song.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
good things
Buying gifts for people used to totally stress me out. Complete waste of time. (I mean, stressing out was a complete waste of time; not buying gifts)
It's a lot more fun now, because I think about the things I like, and there's at least a chance that the giftee will like it too. If not, it's the thought that counts, right? Plus, there is always re-gifting.
These are some of my favorite things that I have received, given, want to give, or want to get.
Complex Biz is a brand of hair accessories sold in Tokyo. Unlike most wimpy hair clips, these have the jaws of death that will grab your hair and never let go. Gorgeously ornamented--they remind me of Christmas ornaments, actually. Ai introduced me to them, and though they are very well-built and sturdy, she constantly has to buy new ones since Chuchu, with his metal fetish, keeps eating them.
This one is called the Crystal Jewel Dessert Clip, for 6,195 yen. Pricey, yes, but worth it.
It's a lot more fun now, because I think about the things I like, and there's at least a chance that the giftee will like it too. If not, it's the thought that counts, right? Plus, there is always re-gifting.
These are some of my favorite things that I have received, given, want to give, or want to get.
Complex Biz is a brand of hair accessories sold in Tokyo. Unlike most wimpy hair clips, these have the jaws of death that will grab your hair and never let go. Gorgeously ornamented--they remind me of Christmas ornaments, actually. Ai introduced me to them, and though they are very well-built and sturdy, she constantly has to buy new ones since Chuchu, with his metal fetish, keeps eating them.This one is called the Crystal Jewel Dessert Clip, for 6,195 yen. Pricey, yes, but worth it.
happy feet
Something is wrong with my right foot; the sole is always screaming with pain by the end of the day. Probably not helped by wearing pointy heels every day. But slipping this funny ball-on-a-band around my foot and rolling it around the pressure points, ooooooooooooooh. Marna's "Good Plus Lymph Massager for the back foot," 1,260 yen.
Pink panthers
And for those pointy-heeled boots that are so pretty but hell for the feet, a pair of Pink Panthers keep them sitting up straight by the door and smelling nice. アイデア.com, 1,260 yen.
Pumpkin Le Creuset
Cinderella had pretty good luck with pumpkins, at least before midnight. I think, yes, butternut squash soup would be the perfect recipe to serve in this Le Creuset pumpkin cocotte rond cast iron casserole. 27,000 yen. See pricey/worth it argument under Complex Biz.
Mariage Freres
Good tea=can't go wrong. Mom is a tea fanatic, Pop always asks for black tea when he visits. Ai loves soba and chai tea. Haven't wars been fought over it?Mariage Frères is quite popular here, and the apothecary-like shop in Ginza and their many department-store-basement stalls are great for gifts.
Ai gave me one of the silver tea spoons with a scalloped scoop, and their "chocolats des mandarins" chocolates (2,940 yen) with tea look and likely taste divine. Their tea duos come in attractive patterned tins, boxed and ready to give. I recommend Coffret Lucky Number Tea, Oriental and Marco Polo.
Aveda
I am often tempted to wear this as perfume. Everything from Aveda smells nice, and this hairspray not only works very well but is fragrant with "Aveda's own Pure-Fume Aroma with Jasmine, Rose, Certified Organic Ylang Ylang and Other Pure Flower and Plant Essences". Sweet. Called Style Elements in Japan for 2,730 yen; Brilliant Hair Spray in the States for $13.
Glassybaby
Glassybaby is a Seattle company that makes hand-blown glass votive candle holders. Stunning colors and shapes. I also heard an interview on John Moe's most excellent radio show The Works with the owner, Lee Rhodes, and these little beauties seem to have a life force of their own, transmitting some sort of healing, warming, comforting vibe along with flickering light.
Aqua Verde glassybaby, $40.
Okinawa glass
Interestingly, glassybabies look very much like the Okinawan glasses that Aunt Sumiko gave me for my birthday this year. I would never think of putting a votive into these, but I bet a flickering flame would look heavenly. These are also all handmade, so no two are alike.
Lega
Lega's yoga mats can't be more than half a centimeter thick, but somehow they are so comfortable to lie down on, and the designs are lovely. I received this elephant/tree one from cousin Chie; there is also the Baobab tree and Lotus versions.
Trader Joe's
Many Christmas Eves have I spent at my neighborhood Trader Joe's in Seattle, frantically doing last-minute stocking stuffer shopping, blessing whoever was the genius who started the company (Joe?). Champagne, dried figs, Dessert Essence lip gloss, Valrhona noir chocolate, chai tea, Dubliner Irish Cheese, bouquets of stargazer lillies, tea tree oil, treats for your doggies, greek yogurt, salty licorice.
Gorillapod
San Francisco company Joby came up with this genius device last year. The Gorillapod, a light and bendy tripod that screws into almost any basic digital camera. Great for setting up group shots and catching interesting angles, and always a conversation starter. $24.95.
Flickr
Once you've taken a bunch of photos, upload them onto a Flickr Pro Account. $24.95/year, $47.99/2 years.
hannibal
And for the person who either wants a slimmer jawline or is a fan of "Silence of the Lambs":CLARIIIIIIIIICE
Friday, December 08, 2006
Toshi Ota + Keeda Oikawa "Mixed 2006"-Ouistiti-
folks in Tokyo,
The Pink Cow in Shibuya is a fun place to go, regardless. The owner, Traci, is about as California as a chick can get. Think: female Bill and Ted. The food is awesome (Friday night buffets much recommended, bring your vegetarian friends), chill atmosphere (makes me think it is what a speakeasy might be like, were it in Tokyo, not during prohibition, and in the 21st Century).
Plus they feature an artist every month on their walls. This month it's photographer Toshi.OTA and illustrator Keeda Oikawa. The subject matter is Japanese mixed-race people. The title of the exhibition is
"Mixed 2006"-Ouistiti-.
[warning: shameless self-promotion follows]
[but what is a blog but shameless self-promotion, anyway?]
Ai and I were thrilled to be models for their work. Mr. Ota and Ms. Keeda are very warm and creative and I have enjoyed getting to know them, and it was an honor to be asked to be part of the project. Plus, when Ai and I saw for the first time the finished products at the opening party, we were speechless. Each picture had so much energy, and vibrancy, and personality. The colors are like candy, against the realism of the photos and the familiar--no, familial; we could have probably all passed as relatives--expressions of the models' faces. And then to see our own photos: wow.
So, if you like art, and funky restaurants, and are in Shibuya, please stop by. It's a cool event.
The Pink Cow in Shibuya is a fun place to go, regardless. The owner, Traci, is about as California as a chick can get. Think: female Bill and Ted. The food is awesome (Friday night buffets much recommended, bring your vegetarian friends), chill atmosphere (makes me think it is what a speakeasy might be like, were it in Tokyo, not during prohibition, and in the 21st Century).
Plus they feature an artist every month on their walls. This month it's photographer Toshi.OTA and illustrator Keeda Oikawa. The subject matter is Japanese mixed-race people. The title of the exhibition is
"Mixed 2006"-Ouistiti-.
[warning: shameless self-promotion follows]
[but what is a blog but shameless self-promotion, anyway?]
Ai and I were thrilled to be models for their work. Mr. Ota and Ms. Keeda are very warm and creative and I have enjoyed getting to know them, and it was an honor to be asked to be part of the project. Plus, when Ai and I saw for the first time the finished products at the opening party, we were speechless. Each picture had so much energy, and vibrancy, and personality. The colors are like candy, against the realism of the photos and the familiar--no, familial; we could have probably all passed as relatives--expressions of the models' faces. And then to see our own photos: wow.
So, if you like art, and funky restaurants, and are in Shibuya, please stop by. It's a cool event.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Men of Metropolis
Man do I miss working with these folks.
We will probably all eventually move away from Tokyo, scattering around the world and drifting in and out of each other's lives here and there, since that is the nature of getting to know people in a city like Tokyo, working for a magazine like Metropolis.
Thank god for Christmas parties so I can still see them from time to time!
We will probably all eventually move away from Tokyo, scattering around the world and drifting in and out of each other's lives here and there, since that is the nature of getting to know people in a city like Tokyo, working for a magazine like Metropolis.
Thank god for Christmas parties so I can still see them from time to time!
Monday, December 04, 2006
it's becoming a tradition
This is the third year in a row that cousins and aunts get together for an early Christmas party.
2004: Akabane, nabe, gift exchange.
2005: at the Miyoshi's, sushi and champagne, a dog that looked like a newborn deer.
2006: The new flat, curry, pork chops, spring rolls and wine, gift exchange.
It was tons of fun. The day after I was totally pooped and almost dozed off at my desk.
Looking forward to it again next year. Oh what exciting things will happen in 2007??
2004: Akabane, nabe, gift exchange.
2005: at the Miyoshi's, sushi and champagne, a dog that looked like a newborn deer.
2006: The new flat, curry, pork chops, spring rolls and wine, gift exchange.
It was tons of fun. The day after I was totally pooped and almost dozed off at my desk.
Looking forward to it again next year. Oh what exciting things will happen in 2007??
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
My old Seattle digs
I love where I live now.
Tokyo Bay is right out the window, it's quiet and convenient, and it's Tokyo.
But I will always look back on my first very-own apartment, paid 100% by moi, with fondness.
One's first flat... something special about it.
Tokyo Bay is right out the window, it's quiet and convenient, and it's Tokyo.
But I will always look back on my first very-own apartment, paid 100% by moi, with fondness.
One's first flat... something special about it.
Christmastime is here
Two years ago I visited Ai in Tokyo. It had been a few years since I'd been to Tokyo, the first time in a long time that I visited during Christmas.
The biggest event planned during my short stay was the cousins reunion/Christmas party. I found a Christmas album I'd never heard of, "A Charlie Brown Christmas," that Ai had bought from Starbucks. I popped it into the CD player and discovered the best Christmas album ever.
The Vince Guaraldi Trio--piano, drums and bass--and an angelic children's choir perform classics and originals for the Peanuts TV special that aired a few decades ago. It's simple and sweet, jazzy, sometimes off-key, joyful.
Now I'm back in Tokyo, spending all of Christmas here in Japan for the first time in 18 years.
*****
Christmas time is here, happiness and cheer,
fun for all that children call their favorite time of year.
Snowflakes in the air, carols everywhere,
olden times and ancient rhymes and love and dreams to share.
Sleigh bells in the air, beauty everywhere;
yuletide by the fireside and joyful memories there.
Christmastime is here, we'll be drawing near;
oh that we could always see such spirit through the year.
The biggest event planned during my short stay was the cousins reunion/Christmas party. I found a Christmas album I'd never heard of, "A Charlie Brown Christmas," that Ai had bought from Starbucks. I popped it into the CD player and discovered the best Christmas album ever.
The Vince Guaraldi Trio--piano, drums and bass--and an angelic children's choir perform classics and originals for the Peanuts TV special that aired a few decades ago. It's simple and sweet, jazzy, sometimes off-key, joyful.
Now I'm back in Tokyo, spending all of Christmas here in Japan for the first time in 18 years.
*****
Christmas time is here, happiness and cheer,
fun for all that children call their favorite time of year.
Snowflakes in the air, carols everywhere,
olden times and ancient rhymes and love and dreams to share.
Sleigh bells in the air, beauty everywhere;
yuletide by the fireside and joyful memories there.
Christmastime is here, we'll be drawing near;
oh that we could always see such spirit through the year.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Thankful for:
Friends.
Family.
Roasted turkey and gravy.
Adorably gorgeous babies whose smiles are like sunshine.
Employment.
Weekends.
Paychecks.
A nice place to live.
Tokyo, Seattle, Washington DC and environs.
Health.
Christmas season and A Charlie Brown Christmas.
Family.
Roasted turkey and gravy.
Adorably gorgeous babies whose smiles are like sunshine.
Employment.
Weekends.
Paychecks.
A nice place to live.
Tokyo, Seattle, Washington DC and environs.
Health.
Christmas season and A Charlie Brown Christmas.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving
It's a holiday in Japan too, though it's "Thanks for Working" day here (technically "Labour Thanksgiving Day").
I am bringing poached pears to a Thanksgiving party, to be served with ice cream.
I am bringing poached pears to a Thanksgiving party, to be served with ice cream.
peeling pears
I picked up "La France" pears--like anjous--at my neighborhood grocery store, a few days shy of being ripe. Halve, core, peel, sprinkle with lemon juice, and tend to the poaching liquid.
poaching in progress
Turn up the heat, and let it bubble away.
A nice big Le Creuset enameled cast iron dutch oven would be so nice right now.
A nice big Le Creuset enameled cast iron dutch oven would be so nice right now.
reducing the syrup
A bottle of wine, half a lemon and the juice of eight pears gets reduced to about a half cup of dark, spicy syrup.
tender and fragrant
The pears are tender and fragrant in no time, and the house smells of warm vanilla and sweet wine.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Cheese Festa 2006
Have a nice day with cheese: this is what I did on Saturday.
The Spiral building in Omotesando hosted the annual Cheese Festa. Spiral has an amazing gift shop, nice restaurants, and hosts lots of events and exhibitions.
Pop joined Ai and I and we had a fun afternoon learning about cheese, tasting samples and purchasing ingredients for fondue. I won a tub of berry cream cheese.
The Spiral building in Omotesando hosted the annual Cheese Festa. Spiral has an amazing gift shop, nice restaurants, and hosts lots of events and exhibitions.
Pop joined Ai and I and we had a fun afternoon learning about cheese, tasting samples and purchasing ingredients for fondue. I won a tub of berry cream cheese.
Would you like a huge wheel of stilton?
Each corner gave out samples of one of the representing country's cheeses. Spanish Manchego, Japanese cream cheese and New Zealand cream cheese were all fine and people gladly ate them, but the Stilton counter was a madhouse. It was like the line for Splash Mountain at Disneyland. It was like herding dairy cattle. People were shoving, pushing, walking over feet to get to the Stilton.
Then they brought out these humongous wheels of the stuff, and I'm sure a couple of people ended up going home with a year's supply of moldy British cheese.
Lovely paired with raisin-pear jam, and a glass of red wine.
Then they brought out these humongous wheels of the stuff, and I'm sure a couple of people ended up going home with a year's supply of moldy British cheese.
Lovely paired with raisin-pear jam, and a glass of red wine.
Kinokuniya Bakery and Deli
After the madness, we three walked to gourmet grocery store Kinokuniya's little first-floor cafe, the Bakery and Deli.
I used to come here all the time when I worked in the neighborhood, for perfect tossed salads and a cup of coffee. Friendliest, cheeriest store manager in town.
This book on tarts was always fun to browse.
I used to come here all the time when I worked in the neighborhood, for perfect tossed salads and a cup of coffee. Friendliest, cheeriest store manager in town.
This book on tarts was always fun to browse.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Say Obi
I interviewed Kahori Ochi for the magazine I used to work for, and she invited me to join one of the events she organizes so that foreigners in Japan can meet other foreigners and Japanese people, and experience traditional culture, especially through wearing kimono.
Last Sunday was the November full moon, so she put on a tsukimi (moon viewing) party in Asakusa. It was a lovely and surreal experience. How often do you get to celebrate something as common as the moon rising? Being in those beautiful swathes of silk put me in a different mood, where time moved a little bit more slowly.
Last Sunday was the November full moon, so she put on a tsukimi (moon viewing) party in Asakusa. It was a lovely and surreal experience. How often do you get to celebrate something as common as the moon rising? Being in those beautiful swathes of silk put me in a different mood, where time moved a little bit more slowly.
With host Kahori
On the moon-viewing roof
Kahori set up the tiny roof veranda into a peaceful sanctuary with benches, potted plants, willowy susuki, a stack of origami for making paper cranes, benches and an offering tray of omochi, presented to the moon.
The sky went from normal afternoon light to dusky violet then indigo and finally nighttime darkness, and then the glowing full moon came up over the horizon of building rooftops, and everybody cheered.
The sky went from normal afternoon light to dusky violet then indigo and finally nighttime darkness, and then the glowing full moon came up over the horizon of building rooftops, and everybody cheered.
waves
One of the gorgeous kimonos, a pattern of menacing black waves against a scalloped scarlet background.
kitsui des ka?
After picking out the kimono we wanted to wear, the expert fitters wrapped, folded, tied, cinched, pulled, knotted and tucked the beautiful fabric into place. The bottom kimono layer wasn't used, so everyone just wore the robes over everyday clothes.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Drinks at Amanis
Lovely cousin Midori came out with the sis and I for a Saturday night out in Roppongi. Talk always turns to guys and relationships when she's in the room, since she's incredibly level-headed and always has sharp advice. Tip of the day: if you want a response, you've got to put something out there for them to respond to. Don't play hardest to get.
After seeing 21 Blades at Rock Factory, we went across the street to the classy lounge Amanis for a few rounds.
Salty Dog: Vodka, grapefruit juice, salt around the rim. My new favorite drink. Apparently, without the salt, it's a Greyhound, but why would you want to do that?
Plus the friendly proprieter gave us each the special cocktail they serve to ladies, all night, for FREE, on Thursday: tequila with strawberry, I think. Something pink. Very nice.
Check them out when you're in the area.
After seeing 21 Blades at Rock Factory, we went across the street to the classy lounge Amanis for a few rounds.
Salty Dog: Vodka, grapefruit juice, salt around the rim. My new favorite drink. Apparently, without the salt, it's a Greyhound, but why would you want to do that?
Plus the friendly proprieter gave us each the special cocktail they serve to ladies, all night, for FREE, on Thursday: tequila with strawberry, I think. Something pink. Very nice.
Check them out when you're in the area.
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