noodling around

Have I mentioned before how much I enjoy seeing friendly faces from back home?  Once or twice?  Seventy-five times?  Well Leigh, a good friend from high school, is one of our favorites.  She's stationed in Japan as a Navy nurse a little more than an hour away from us by train, so we certainly don't get to hang out as much as we might like.  And now we're trying to get all the fun in that we can as she'll be leaving us soon for a tour in Afghanistan.

We were lucky enough to get together this past weekend for a visit to a museum honoring one of the things Japan does best: ramen.  Those of you who survived college on ramen noodles and Natty Light will need to throw out the window everything you think you know about this "required eating" in Japanese food culture.

The best shops take pride in their own soup base made in house and served with handmade noodles and slices of pork (now, I have been eating much more meat and have had to be far less discriminating in my choices in Japan than I am known to be at home, but this is one area I do not partake; I order mine niku nuki  - without meat).  If you're lucky, your ramen may also come topped with some long onion and sprouts and sometimes spinach; though vegetables, and furthermore fostering healthy eating habits, are not what ramen is known for.  (Above is Jeff's bowl of ramen from a recent outing topped with ground sesame seeds, garlic paste, and red pepper paste, ready for stirring all together and getting down to business.)

Jeff and I have been exploring Tokyo, looking for the best ramen shops in town so we can be sure to get our fill while living here.  Sadly, we have yet to hear of anywhere in America that can reproduce the quality one can find on almost any corner in Japan.

There I am slurping up some ramen-y goodness. For the record, the bib is not cool, but if you care about your shirt, wear it. Eating ramen is a full-contact exercise.

 

But back to the museum.  We went in thinking it was going to have a history of ramen in Japan (interestingly, while the Japanese take pride in having perfected the art, it was introduced to Japan via China, and has really only gained popularity within the last century) and a lot of information and samples of the different styles of ramen.  We were duped, however.  The museum, while fun, was more of a collection of ramen shops than a history lesson.   It did have some information, but the educational displays were dwarfed by the gift shop.  For me, history buff that I am, the best part was that the museum was a reconstruction, kitschy as it may have been, of a section of Tokyo from Showa 33 (1958 - the Japanese calendar is based on the years the particular Emperor has been in power).

Here is a view from the second floor looking down into the section of the museum they like to call the "ramen restaurant mall." 

And there is Jeff and Leigh exploring the streets of Showa 33 Tokyo.  Apparently Tokyo was very dirty and dark back then.  And short too.  Oh, and they had these creepy cat noises playing out of a speaker somewhere.  With the old houses and the screeching cats we felt right back home in our first Japanese apartment.  We even started keeping our eyes peeled for the neko onna.

After taking the full ten minutes it took to walk around the museum, we settled in for some mediocre ramen at one of the shops.  It wasn't the best I'd had, but it certainly wasn't the worst either.  The company, however, was wonderful!

The 300 yen price tag (plus the cost of your bowl of ramen, if you so choose) makes this a stop worth checking out if you're in Shin-Yokohama anyway and have the time, though I certainly would have put the mysterious caves on the Yokosuka base above this on my to-do list.

Mr. Big in Japan

My husband is the worst lyric-rememberer ever.  For being one of the most musically inclined people I know, he has a surprisingly small karaoke repertoire and in the car he usually just hums the melody an octave or two higher than the singer is singing the song (I hear he shares this lovely habit with his father). 

However, just now he sang the entire song "To Be With You" by Mr. Big.  Remember that guilty pleasure?  From like 1990?  Whew, look at those haircuts.  The things you learn about someone spending every waking moment together....

Now if I could only get him to remember the lyrics to our wedding song, Crazy Love, by Van Morrison (for which "crazy" and "love" are about the only words required).

Mata ne,
Melissa

(Full Disclosure: I sang right along with him.)

three months!

As of today, January 26, we have been in Japan for three months.  Wow.  I have learned so much about this country and its culture.  Jeff and I were just talking about how it feels like we've been here for so much longer than that.  We've done so much already - but there is still so much to experience we're lucky to have at least six more months to do it all (Mom there is still about two million things to do in Tokyo)!

Thankfully we have not had to give up all of the comforts of home (though we're really missing good mexican food!)

 Aaaahhhhh caramel soy latte.   And real napkins.  That is something Japan does not do well.  Napkins are usually hard to come by, and when you can find them, they look and feel like tissue paper.  Like the kind you wrap presents with.  Or wax paper, but without the waxy side.  It is a good thing that, like America, there is a Starbucks on almost every corner in Japan.

Usually we are support-the-local-business-owner type people.  But sometimes you just need to wipe your mouth with a real napkin.

Mata ne,
Melissa

P.S.  Jeff is a coffee elitist, as I've mentioned before, and generally prefers the most expensive home brewing process available: imported Illy espresso from Italy.  I swear, our morning Americanos cost more in the end than running out to the local coffee shop!  But I love him and I let him indulge in this small vice (He stands by his assertion that making espresso at home is the cheapest option). As we all know, I have an expensive all-natural, no-sugar-added, crunchy peanut butter addiction that I am struggling to support by teaching English lessons. 

bitchy is the new black

Now I know I'm particular, but this is a bit much! 

From the Fashionista blog:  

"No Frumpy": Cornell Sorority forbids American Apparel Leggings, muffin tops, bad skin

Hint:  Click on the six pages of rules at the bottom of the page.  It is worth it. 

And for the record, this outfit is horrendous  (Mom, don't even tell me you had something like this in the 80's.  I don't want to know).
   
photo from American Apparel - today!!

How does your garden grow?

I just finished reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.  However you may have felt about The Bean Trees in high school, this new book is worth a good read.   More personal family memoir than novel, it's focus is on the Kingsolver family's year of eating almost exclusively locally produced foods. 

 This book is neither an attack on industrial farming institutions nor a how-to guide for taking yourself "off the grid" of our current agricultural infrastructure, though there are interesting commentaries which touch on both of these subjects.  Rather, it is one family's experience with the pleasure of eating seasonal foods in season and the value of supporting local farmers by buying their products rather than (lower quality) imports supported by corporate farming interests. I have a hard time believing people will be able to find fault with either of those points, but I'm sure some will. 

Regardless of your political leanings or diet, I seriously suggest you check out this book. 

Mata ne,
Melissa

Elle and Julie: This is my vote for next month's book club.  I'll even skype in!