Tsukiji Breakfast

While the hotel breakfast was incredible and varied, it didn’t hold a candle to our favorite breakfast from last time at Tsukiji market. This time, with Grandma in tow, and a bit more adjusted to jetlag, we got there a bit later, and in large crowds even on a weekday. We didn’t manage to see any full sized tunas being slaughtered or carted away, and struggled to kept our guard up (Hamilton reference) through the crowds. The hotel had recommended a popular Tsukiji chain to us, but then we recognized our corner spot from last time, Marikito, and were again drawn in. Their fish is of the utmost quality, a very cozy place with an amazing and sea-weed-y miso soup, it officially became our “goto” place in Tokyo!

Akihabara

The only big ticket item the family wanted to check out was the Electric Town Akihabara district. Tracking down all sorts of lovely items, we weaved through the large block in search for kit kats of all flavors, maid cafes (to point out in shock rather than enjoy), themed cafes to partake in (we underestimated the popularity of these unfortunately), and electronics to be of awe in. Then the young ones beelined for one of the massive arcades, where we played games that were obviously brand new even in the last two years. Again, I was enamored both with the quality of the games, and the mainstream accessibility and community around it.

Kaiseki

For our last family dinner together in Japan, we decided to go big. Dad made a reservation at a Michelin star Kaiseki called Ginza Okuda. The emphasis on service and the meticulous attention to every detail of the dinner made it one of the top meals of all time. The theme was spring and sakura, shown through both the ambience – a kanji painting of “flower” on the wall, a small sakura branch in the corner case, bowls beautifully decorated with flowers – and the food itself, featuring spring vegetables alongside fresh herbs, and even pink salt infused with the essence of sakura itself.

  • To drink – a slightly unfiltered sake full of flavor
  • Spring Salad – 20 types of spring vegetables stacked elegantly, served with a giant mussel steak and served on top of that very mussel’s shell.
  • Clam soup – three huge clams wrapped in nori floating amongst a dashi broth. Grandma did not like!
  • Nigiri plate – mackerel, redbream (?), and squid with sakura infused salt
  • Steak – wagyu beef slices topped with a bitter herb or vegetable chop. Pure bliss
  • Fish – a Japanese rockfish with greenonion, and a tremendously powerful herb that burns with joy when left on the tongue.
  • The Filler – rice cooked with the head of the redbream from above, mixed with bamboo shoot and more of the Fish herb.
  • Dessert – in a tremendous irony, we actually got Anmitsu which is what we had decided would be pretty unlikely.

Lu’s Clues!!!

It’s time for some LUuuUUuu’s CLUUUeees!!! I know Greg’s posts have been all positive feelings and accurate details and facts, but it’s time for some SASS up in heeerrreee.

Has he written about the 3 limitations? Fine, whatever, he’s written about them. But probably not like this!

Limitation #1: waiting = boring = boo. Limitation #2: a reasonable one because Grandma is old, and honestly it’s impressive how much she can walk already Limitation #3: general anxiety disorder, but also I’ve both eaten too much and no one else is eating nearly enough.

Admittedly, though, we have been treated to the highest class of Japanese tourism, what with a hotel specifically designed for you to peer down at the masses (it only occupies floors 30-37, there’s not even a ground floor) and meals where the more money you hemorrhage, the more they forgive your bumbling Western asses for walking on their pristine tatami floors in gasp bathroom sandals.

The meeting of two cultures always makes for some hilarious moments, namely when Grandma announced to the delicate subservient wait staff at the kaiseki meal that she “has always hated clams, that is the one thing I will not eat” immediately after being served what could be described as the greatest clam dish I have ever eaten.

How about when, at the same kaiseki meal, Brian was confident the sakura blossom twig was edible. His confidence was clearly contagious, because we all trustingly took a nibble from the flowers. Upon asking the delicate subservient wait staff, I was met with a firm and alarmed “TABERAREMASEN!” Too late, we’ve all chomped into the decoration.

Jokes aside, there have been some beautiful moments. Having the chance to go to counter ramen and a smoking bar with Brian, eating greasy food and drinking caloric beer, and then hearing him open up for the first time about his drug-fueled past, that is a moment I will remember for a long time. Seeing Greg gain the confidence to use his Japanese with various counter people makes me incredibly proud. Even the satisfaction of adequately, efficiently, seamlessly juggling the three fucking limitations, that is worth the added stress of having them in the first place.

Speaking of the 3 limitations, let’s complain a little more!! Arrive at a coffee shop in Akihabara (chosen in the first place because clearly, Greg’s parents have little interest in the weird, cheap goods peddled in this district, and everyone agreed to an interest in sitting and sipping), but lo and behold, no one actually wants coffee?! Greg goes outside to get a donut, presumably as a short reprieve from the constant barrage of “What’s next? where are we going? WHAT IS THE FUCKING PLAN?” and when I suggest that I’d join him and everyone else could buy some coffee and sit and sip as previously agreed, I am met with a frustratingly confusing announcement from Steve that he’s following us today. Cue his literally following me out of the coffee shop to the small donut stand across the way, leaving behind a bewildered Sue and Brian, both rightfully confused about why Steve left the shop. Brian asks, “Why did my Dad leave?” and I reply, “I don’t know.”

Greg says that was a good rant about the coffee shop. I’m inclined to agree.

For now, I’ll stop complaining and enjoy this snowy moutain range whizzing by the shinkansen window.