NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

One of my pledges in coming to Japan was to eat as much as possible, and so far, I feel as though I'm making good use of my time.  Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook have probably seen the entire album I have dedicated to photos I've taken of things I've eaten or want to eat. (Drew and Pauline, I blame you for this sick compulsion.) For those of you who are not on Facebook and therefore haven't seen the photos, this blog post is for you.  I'm calling it "the food porn" entry.

In my next life, I will move someplace where I can eat a baguette, some sort of ripened cheese, and a charcuterie plate every day, accompanied by fruit, pickles and fresh vegetables.  However, that life is not this one.  This reality is filled with foodstuffs ranging from the glorious to "what the hell is that"?  I'm steadily becoming a pseudo-vegetarian, as meat is expensive, and vegetables are reasonably priced.  I became the envy of all my friends when I found a farmer's market near my school.  Once a week I go stock up on locally grown okra, potatoes, figs, carrots, onions, garlic, basil, eggplant and tomatoes.  As a result, I am ruined.  Gone are the days when I will go to the supermarket and pick up a genetically enhanced, watery, mealy tomato.  The very thought turns my stomach.  The paradise that is the farmers' market lacks only one thing: affordable fruit.  

Fruit is prohibitively expensive in Japan- $5 for one apple, close to $10 for a small cluster of grapes.   But oh, the flavor! Eating a grape is like tasting the richest, plummiest piece of grape candy imaginable.  A Japanese white peach is so delicious that you may have to put your head between yours knees because you start seeing rainbows.  This may sound hyperbolic, but I assure you, every word is true.  Except for maybe the rainbows.  All fruits are eaten peeled.  For example, the Japanese have invented a rather charming method of separating the flesh of grapes from their skins.  Simply bite off the top of the grape before gently using your teeth to juice the fruit (don't puncture the skin!), while simultaneously sucking on it until the grape pops out, leaving its shell behind. An easy way to fascinate (and possibly disgust) the Japanese is to pop an entire grape in your mouth, or chomp down on an unpeeled apple or peach.

MY TOP 5 FOOD MOMENTS...SO FAR

1. I make my own caviar.  I have long loved "ikura," which is a kind of sushi that involves red caviar.  Imagine my glee when I found a whole skein of roe at the local supermarket, begging me to take it home.  

So I caved to the impulse buy, and got to work.  First, I had to separate each individual piece of roe from the membrane.  I tried to do this by hand with a paring knife, only to realize that it could be Christmas before I finished.  So instead, I logged on to the miraculous world that is the Internet, and deferred to the wisdom of the foodies.  Following their instructions, I boiled some water, let it cool a touch, and then submerged the skein for a few minutes.  I then removed the skein and easily pulled away the bits of membrane, revealing perfect little jeweled globes of roe.  

Victory! I thought.  I made my sushi rice.  I unfurled my nori (dried seaweed used in sushi).  I sat down, and took my first bite...of disgusting fishy fluid.  DISASTER. Had the roe expired? Did I do something wrong?  I again sought solace and answers in the Internet, and realized that I had skipped a crucial step: you have to brine the roe in order to make caviar.  So I made a warm saline solution, poured in the roe, and let it sit for half an hour.  Problem solved.

2. Two words: squid jerky (surume).  A friend was gifted a bag of "sweets," which she brought to share at a potluck.  Upon opening the bag, it soon became clear that the sweets were, in fact, various kinds of dried, salted squid.  However, refusal was not an option for this intrepid crew.  Each person manned a bag, and the snacking commenced. My conclusion: robust, maritime flavor given depth by aging.  I'm convinced there is a market for this product in the States. Let me know if you want a piece of this action.  We can brand it as healthy, as it is made of fish.

3. Black sesame ice cream. One hot day, I opted to cool down with some ice cream.  Ignoring the more conventional vanilla or chocolate, or even green tea or red bean, I elected to try the black sesame.  Slightly gritty in texture and taste, let's put this down as one of the things that Ben and Jerrys should not pick up as their new featured flavor (though "Black Sesame" does sound more appetizing than "Schweddy Balls"). 

4. Sushi.  I haven't eaten as much as one might expect, but the few times I have, it's been delicious.  I've enjoyed the greatest hits: yellowtail, salmon roe, various kinds of maki, salmon, octopus, eel, etc.  The most spectacular was toro (fatty tuna), which made me weak in the knees.  The worst was  seaweed with some sort of fish egg attached to it. I think it's safe to say that it was one of the more revolting things I've ever eaten- tasteless and of a hair-raising consistency, like something that had congealed and been put on rice.

The offending green sushi is middle right; toro is back center.

5. Goya, or bitter melon.  This vegetable is popular in Okinawa, and looks like I imagine a snozzcumber would, if Roald Dahl's book "The BFG" were to come to life.  Described by Dahl as "filthsome," that pretty much encompasses the taste of bitter melon, according to my sources.   Per instructions from knowledgeable Japanese acquaintances, I first cut the goya into small slices and salted them, squeezing out their juice in order to lessen the bitter flavor.  I then sauteed them in a pan with pieces of pork before adding soy sauce and a little rice vinegar.  The result? The vegetable was a little piquant, but not inedible.  I think it helped that the pan I sauteed them in was filled with drippings from bacon I had fried moments earlier.  

On a somewhat related tangent, I've slowly been making a few friends here.  We are united by our relatively advanced age, our sense of adventure, our love for traditional Japanese culture and experiences, but most of all, our obsession with food.   Our friendship was clinched when, ten minutes into a trip to Kyoto, I asked for us to detour across the busy street so I could take a photo of the Japanese branch of The Doughnut Plant for my doughnut pilgrimage compatriots from this spring.  The group willingly agreed, and instead of preparing to saunter on after the requisite photos had been taken, they suggested that we stop for a doughnut taste test.  What made this even more remarkable was the fact that we had met up not 45 minutes before for coffee and a pastry at the train station.  People who like to eat every 30 minutes to an hour? Kismet.

Four...doughnuteers?