I'd Rather Be...In Japan

The Best Soba and Ramen in Tokyo

One of our hobbies at I'd Rather Be is food, particularly Japanese food. For the three years we lived in Japan, we spent a lot of time researching local ingredients, finding old recipes, and sampling delicious meals wherever we could.

On our occasional trips to Tokyo, Noriko began scouring websites and guidebooks in Japanese for the tastiest ramen and soba shops she could find. There is a subculture of soba and ramen otakus who are avid fans of the noodle, and we relied on their research, followed up with our own trips to the top rated shops, to find what we consider to be the best ramen and soba restaurants in Tokyo.

Once we had them, we realized how difficult it is for non-Japanese speakers to find these places, let alone know what or how to order once they get there. So we created the Tokyo Noodle Guide to help people out. 

The Tokyo Noodle Guide is not like the typical guide which lists dozens of places and give you a tiny bit of information. Instead, we narrowed the field to just our favorites, and then we gave in-depth information, how the noodles are made, some nutritional information, maps, directions, subway stops, the works. 

Then we added photos of the dishes we recommend, along with a handy ordering guide. You literally just have to point at what you want and you can order. We also explained how to eat, especially with the soba, which sauce is for dipping noodles, where the wasabi goes, what to do with that pitcher they bring  you after your meal. This guide is for anyone who really wants the full ramen or soba experience, who needs to know what every single item on the tray is, and who loves to have experiences that aren't available to the usual tourist. We put it all in there, and for only $6.99 you can have a pdf of the guide right now. Click the button below and get your noodle on!

 

Soon we'll be leaving Japan and moving back to the US. It's been a very busy time getting ready for our move, but I wanted to make a quick post.

Some things I learned in Japan:

I learned what it feels like to ride a night bus home from a post industrial city to my home in a small town surrounded by mountains.

I learned the exquisite pleasure of one tiny bite of a pickled sour plum between bites of rice at lunch time. One of my students heard about my fondness for the plums, ume boshi, and she gave me a jar that her grandmother made. They were 15 years old. I loved them.

I learned the solitude of not knowing what anyone around me is saying, and not knowing what they're saying, and not knowing what they're thinking...for years.

I learned to be outside, way outside, of everything I know.

I'll miss those things, but I'll also be glad to be back home.

Getting Naked With the Father in Law

Hello friends.

The Japanese newspaper that I write, Mainichi Weekly, for has published an ebook of my collected columns, plus some other essays about my life in Japan. Check it out!

http://www.amazon.com/Getting-Naked-Father-Other-ebook/dp/B004MPRCSC/


"Getting Naked with the Father-in-Law, and Other Tales from Rural Japan," by Sean Sakamoto, has been launched for the Amazon Kindle.

The book features essays from Sakamoto's popular Mainichi Weekly column "A Stranger in Paradise." It provides an insightful and humorous look at Sakamoto's life in the Land of the Rising Sun after he moved from the bustle of New York to the small, rural castle town of Gujo Hachiman in Gifu Prefecture. Going beyond the usual observations of foreigners in Japan, Sakamoto uses interviews with local craftsmen, artists, teachers, and chefs to bring readers closer to the local culture and people.

Read about a cattle farmer in Hyogo, the capital of Kobe Beef, who explains once and for all that, no, the cows are not raised on beer and given massages. Find out about traditional fishermen who use birds on leashes instead of lines and hooks. Travel back in time on a highway hundreds of years old that was once walked by samurai and their lords.

"Getting Naked with the Father-in-Law, and Other Tales from Rural Japan" is priced at $11.99. Click here to buy!

Rhode Island International Film Festival Here We Come!

After five years of hard work, our documentary on classical Japanese dance grandmaster Iemoto Yoshie Tachibana, The Heron and the Geisha, will have its world premier at the Rhode Island International Film Festival. We're very excited to see it on the big screen, and will keep you posted on how it goes.

Here's the trailer for the video:

I wrote a post for my friend Colin's blog, and I really liked the responses to it. Check it out:

http://noimpactman.typepad.com/blog/2010/06/heaven-knows.html

A Visit to an Island of Art

“Every night I have conversations with artists and art lovers from around the world.” My friend Max made a perfect pancake and slid it onto a plate. Max and his wife are both Japanese, but we met in Brooklyn years ago when I lived in New York City.

Max was telling me about the people he meets in his strange new job. Max is a filmmaker who makes documentaries. He's working on a project now, but getting funding is the constant challenge of an independent artist and Max is no exception. He was hoping to get funding from the Japanese government for his latest project, but that ran into a snag leaving him short of money.

From Japan 2010

To make matters worse, his parent’s passed away, leaving him the family home in the port city of Uno in okayama prefecture. “I tried to sell the house, but nobody is interested in buying in the countryside these days. I kept thinking about Naoshima and the people who want to go there, and so I decided to try a bed and breakfast.”

Max now opens his family home to tourists mostly from the US and Europe. He even practiced making pancake breakfasts. I love a good pancake, so Noriko, Kazu, and I drove seven hours to see him during Golden Week.

We shared Max’s kitchen with a French man who lives in Kyoto, his Japanese girlfriend, and two Taiwanese women who live in the US. It was just like Max said it would be. In the morning, everyone takes the ferry to Naoshima. We spent the day exploring old farmhouses that had been made into art installations.

The Bennesse Museum is on the island, along with the Chichu Museum, both designed by the Japanese architect, Tadeo Ando. There are fantastic sculptures on the beach as well. It was great to see the contemporary art set against the natural beauty of the Seto Inland Sea.

For me, the art was only half the fun. Watching all the Japanese tourists was also a joy. Japanese fashion is so diverse that I felt like I was seeing works of art stroll past. Orange shoes with purple pants, straw hats, flowing skirts of various colors, and women in high heels struggling to stay upright on winding streets.

The roads between the museums wound along lush hillsides overlooking the ocean. We stopped to admire a still pond with statues on the shore.

I paused and listened to the insects buzzing and the birds chirping. I learned statues were an art piece by Tsuyoshi Ozawa called, “Slag Buddha 88”. The statues were made from slag, which is industrial waste, taken from a nearby factory. The waste, reincarnated as a Buddha, the product of industry in a natural setting, there was so much in there to think about.

From Japan 2010

There are many beautiful temples and shrines in Japan, and I will never tire of visiting them. But to see art made in the age in which I live was a delight. I felt as if I were part of the conversation, not just the audience. As I watched tourists from all over enjoy the art, I realized that, in a way, the art is spiritual. Art lovers travel from far and wide to view the work like pilgrims come to see holy relics. The museums themselves have the same quiet, thoughtful atmosphere of the cathedrals of Europe and the temples of Asia.

From Japan 2010

At the end of the day, we returned to Max’s house. We sat in his kitchen with his other guests and talked about what we’d seen. It was a little bit of New York, and the entire world, in his parent’s old kitchen. “I think my parents would be happy that so many people are able to enjoy their home,” Max said. We sat quietly and thanked them in our silence.

Max's B&B is called Uno Slope House

Sun on Wheels

The Way of the Ayu

What is it about the Ayu that makes fisherman act so strange? The first time I heard about the little fish was when a friend pointed out some fisherman in the Nagara River. The men stood waist-deep in the water, with long fishing poles.

   

    A fisherman uses a bird and fire to catch Ayu.

     "They make the fish fight," my friend told me. I had no idea what he was talking about. Only after several people explained it to me did I understand the interesting ways of the Ayu fisherman.

     In the US, I always fished by putting a worm on a hook and casting into the water. Not the Ayu fisherman. They use a hook, but they don't put any bait on it. Instead, they tie a living Ayu onto their line above the hook. Then they dangle the fish into the water and wait for another Ayu to attack it. The new Ayu will get hooked while the two fish fight.

     According to fisherman, Ayu like to hang out next to big rocks and nibble on moss. They are very territorial, so when another Ayu comes along, they fight over their little patch of moss. This isn't the only way to catch an Ayu, though.

     For the last 1,000 years, some fisherman have used birds to catch fish. The ukai, or cormorants, are big birds that love to eat anything that swims. The fisherman tie ropes around the necks of the hungry birds and turn them lose on the Ayu at night when they're sleeping.

     "We must be careful about how tight we tie the rope," an Ayu fisherman told me. "If the rope is too tight, the birds can't eat anything, so we have to leave room for them to swallow the smaller fish."

     The Ukai fisherman keep the birds in their garden all year. During fishing season, they bring out the birds at night. They go out in a boat and light a fire in a metal basket that hangs over the water. The fire burns hot, so the fisherman wears a skirt made of grass to protect himself.

     A couple of men row the boat over the river while the birds dive underwater and bring back whatever they catch. I sat in a boat next to them and watched. It was a fascinating sight. The dancing orange flames were reflected in the birds' black eyes and the smooth dark water. Now and then a bird appeared with an Ayu in its mouth, like a dog bringing back a toy ball. Everyone cheered.

     Seeing these men fish in the same way that people have fished the Nagara for centuries was incredible. It was like visiting a museum, but instead of imagining what life was like, I was bearing witness to the living heritage of Ayu fishing. That kind of experience, with the fire and the fish, felt more than just interesting. It was a historical and spiritual trip down the river.    

    Now, whenever I eat Ayu at a barbeque, I can imagine the human history that swims alongside these little silver fish. The white meat is very delicate. If you ever have a chance to taste Ayu, think about that little fish in the river, next to a rock. You can almost taste the moss in the sweet meat. No wonder we do such strange things to catch those fish, they're delicious.

Check out some video footage of the cormorant fishing!

Toxic Waste, Existential Art

We'll all toxic, but we're not all buddha.

I am your flower petal