Oishiness is Moving

I'm on the move, and Oishiness is getting a new home as well, the better to document my travels. I'm getting tired of writing just about food, so the new site has categories for other interests as well. For the next few months, posts are going to be travel-heavy, though I'll still be sure to document any particularly tasty cakes I encounter, too - naturally! Visit oishiness.wordpress.com to keep up to date with my continuing adventures...

Large or Small, Same Price

Maybe you've heard the story about the American who goes to Japan and sees a vending machine selling Cokes in a large size and a small size, both for the same price. He buys the larger one - of course - because it's better value for money. His Japanese friend buys the smaller one. The American is incredulous. "Don't you feel like you're wasting money when you could get more soda for the same price?" he asks. His friend is surprised at the question. "But it's a waste of soda to buy more than I want to drink." This is supposed to illustrate something about the difference between the American and Japanese value system. I'd always considered it an urban legend, because usually, small drinks in vending machines cost about 30 yen less than large ones and I'd never seen large and small ones being sold for the same price. Until now.

Same product, same machine, same price, whether you choose 500 millilitres or 310. It's water, not soda (I noticed that the Pocari Sweat sports drink, which also came in a large and a small version in this machine, was 150 yen for the large and 120 for the small size). But maybe there's something to that story, after all... Now I just have to figure out what point it's supposed to be making.

Japanese Salads

On the day of my move, I had effectively run myself out of food and sold all my dishes, so breakfast was a banana, elevenses was a persimmon, and by one-thirty my house was fairly clean and I was starving. As usual, starvation made me absolutely incapable of deciding what I wanted to eat, so I wandered around the prepared foods section of the supermarket for ages before I finally settled on some thickly-sliced bread and these four salads. What I really wanted was egg salad, which was naturally not available, but anything creamy was a sufficient substitute.
Though traditional Japanese vegetable dishes are pretty plan, usually just boiled in broth or maybe stewed with ground sesame, the introduction of mayonnaise to the home cook's arsenal has spawned an array of east-meets-west side dishes. Potato salad and egg salad, ever popular as sandwich fillings as well as on their own, are the most common, but the macaroni salad at the top left in the first photo is also classic. It includes bits of cabbage, cucumber, carrot, and (of course!) corn. The gobo salad, above and at the bottom left in the first salad, is a creation harkening back to the traditional gobo dish, kinpira, a spicy salad of matchstick burdock (gobo), carrots, and lotus root (renkon). Here, everything you'd expect in kinpira is present, but there's also a creamy sesame dressing holding it all together and nicely contrasting the spiciness.

The macaroni salad came in a more-stylish-than-usual plastic tray designed to look like newsprint. At first glance, I thought it was English, but if you look closely you'll see that in fact the words are nonsense. I wonder who had the job of typing it up!

As for the other salads, the tofu one was unexciting, but the pumpkin one was a terrible disappointment. It had chickeny undertones, even though there was no sign of any meat in the ingredients list. I took a bite or two, but threw the rest away. No reason to mar the memory of my beloved kabocha.

Last Cakes at Sadaharu Aoki

Whenever I go to Tokyo Midtown, I make a point of swinging by the Sadaharu Aoki shop window. Just looking at the brightly colored, whimsically adorned cakes and pastries always gives me a little jolt of happiness. Though I don't buy cake every time I pass by, I have managed to try almost every type of cake they have, so when I went there last week for the last time, the choice was easy - I just got the only two flavors I had never bought before. One of them, pictured above, was a seasonal special combining chestnut, hazelnut, and chocolate with lemon, a surprising combination. I wasn't thrilled with the chestnut-chocolate combination the last time I encountered it, but the hazelnuts, a natural chocolate partner, pulled it together here. I'm still not sure about the lemon, though I didn't mind it terribly. The texture combination was interesting, as well: a crumbly hazelnut crust, a layer of slightly crunchy chestnut-hazelnut cream, chocolate mouse and very thin lemon gel in alternating layers, and the thin, black, syrupy chocolate coating that contrasts so beautifully with the vivid colors in many of Sadaharu Aoki's desserts. The ends were crunchy with crushed hazelnuts and cocoa nibs, and the candied chestnuts and hazelnuts on top were delicious.

The other cake I'd never had before was the plainest of the line-up (which explains why it had never enticed me enough to buy it). It's a simple cheesecake, very light and fluffy, and an entirely different species from the heavy American-style version. Its crust and the cookie on top were hazelnut, but not as intense as in the first cake. Spread across the top was a very thin but intensely lemony jelly glaze, not a bit out of place here. Though not as visually exciting as its neighbors in the pastry case, the minimalist design of squares and shades of beige, crowned by that single narrow black curve of chocolate, is still very appealing, and the simplicity of its three synchronous flavors was perfectly satisfying.

Home Roppongi

It seems to be a law of dining out that the best places are the hardest to find. Every city guidebook will tell you to avoid restaurants catering to tourists around the major sightseeing areas, but unless you have local friends or good luck it can be hard to hit upon the dark alley that will yield the hidden treasure you're seeking. Home is one of those impossible-to-discover gems. It's an organic restaurant with an eco-chic, trendy-traditional vibe, which here means lots of polished wood, potted and hanging plants, long counters rather than individual tables, and unmatched pottery dishes with individual character. It's tucked away on a side street a good distance from any subway station, and occupies the third and fourth floors of a nondescript building. Though I passed nearby it every day on my way to work, I never would have known it was there if not for a friend's introduction.
Home offers a lunch set including their organic salad bar, pictured at the top, plus a choice of the day's special or several regular items. A few days ago, the special was the omurice above, which my friend ordered. Omurice is one of those delightful Japanese adaptations of western food: a soft, fluffy omelette wrapped around rice flavored with ketchup and other ingredients, all doused with some sort of sauce. The one above had bits of chicken stir fried with the rice, and an alfredo-like cheesy cream sauce.
I had the natto-jiru lunch, a vegetarian option that's always on the menu, though the ingredients of the soup and the pickles in the long rectangular relish tray do change slightly from time to time. The soup is a broth made with natto, the infamous fermented soybeans of deeply savory, slightly funky flavor. Natto is much lauded for its healthful qualities but loathed by most foreigners and many Japanese as well. It's an acquired taste, but not all that different from smelly cheese, and I quite like it. Besides natto, the soup also contains bite-sized pieces of firm tofu, strips of flat, fried tofu (aburage), sliced scallions, and mushrooms. The pickles, from left to right, are radish, sour plum (umeboshi), and chrysanthemum petals. The petals had a soapy, leafy taste, exactly what you'd expect from the flowers' scent, and they were the only part of my lunch that I left unfinished.

The salad bar is just as coolly minimalist as the decor - just a few rustically cut types of organic vegetables set out in glass bowls and labelled with their provenance. Though you end up with something more like a plate of crudites to be enjoyed with the three very good dressing options rather than a normal salad, the vegetables are wonderfully fresh and flavorful, without any of the wilting lettuce or canned items all too common on salad bars elsewhere. The plate above contains a spicy ruffled dark green leaf, maybe radish or wasabi (I forgot to read the label), mild, juicy pieces of raw cabbage, and rough-hewn cucumber and carrot sticks.

Home

Minato-ku, Roppongi 3-17-2

Cosmo Roppongi 3F

3-6459-1330

Fruit by Post

After all these years of walking past fancy gift fruit shops, today I became the recipient of a box of gift fruit myself! A friend had warned me to expect a present in the mail, but she didn't give me any clue as to what it might be. I was surprised by the size and weight of the box the delivery man handed me, but when I had signed for it and taken it inside, I noticed the "kudamono" label. Fruit! I immediately reached for my camera.
Beneath the pretty gift wrap, in a bright green heavy cardboard box and swaddled in layers of bubble wrap, protective foam, and color-coordinated gauze, were three persimmons! Here in Japan, persimmons are probably the quintessential fall fruit, even more so than pears and apples. Their season is so short, and their bright orange skin and flesh so reminiscent of autumn leaves, that they're ideal for summoning Proustian images of crisp mornings, early sunsets, and chilly evenings. The longer, heart-shaped, bitter type of persimmon is hung in strings to dry for months, but these squat, pumpkin-shaped Fuyugaki are sweet and perfect for eating fresh. Some people peel them and cut them into dainty bite-sized pieces, served with a toothpick or, more elegantly, with a tiny dessert fork. I like to eat them out of hand, nibbling through the tough skin and taking care to keep the soft inside from bursting into juiciness on my chin.
My gift box came with a lengthy description of the history, geography, distinctive points, and taste of the Fuyugaki variety of persimmon. I'm not sure if all this is necessary to enjoy the fruit, but it does add to the impression of their being something of great value. I would be interested in seeing the descriptive note that comes with that square watermelon...

My Last Lunch (Probably) in Ark Hills

Ark Hills, the complex of housing, offices, shops, and restaurants near the office where I worked until last Friday, is the first place I lived in Tokyo, and the first area with which I felt familiar. It's nicely laid out and upscale, frequented by lots of foreigners and businesspeople who live and work nearby. The restaurants, most serving non-Japanese cuisine, change at a fairly rapid pace, and there are only a few that have been there the entire two years I've been coming to them. Randy, where I went with a friend from my old office for what will probably be my last ever lunch in Ark Hills, is the third cafe to occupy the site at the top of the hill across from the rest of the complex. It's billed as "Beverly Hills/Tokyo" but I can't find any evidence online that such a place exists in Beverly Hills, USA. However, it's a very pleasant restaurant - the ambience inside is cozy, there's a wide terrace for seasonal outdoor seating, and the menu, though short, is diverse and tasty. Also, it boasts a large display case of cakes and sweets in front - always a good sign!
My friend ordered the salad lunch, which comes with a small bowl of soup (there was a choice of minestrone or the daily special, sweet potato), a plate of bread, and three types of jam. The salad was abundant and colorful, with all kinds of tender baby vegetables strewn across the lettuce leaves - I noticed sugar snap peas, asparagus, steamed broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. Considering how difficult it can sometimes be to find vegetables (not to mention vegetarian options) when eating out, Randy is a real oasis.
My choice was the mushroom curry, a baking-hot pottery bowl containing a Japanese-style curried stew of shimeji, shiitake, button, and maybe eringi mushrooms as well, with rice at the bottom and cheese melted on top. It came with a small side salad. Japanese curry is sweet, thick, and just barely spiced with the warm flavor of curry powder, and it soaks deliciously into rice. The combination of mushrooms, cheese, and rice, is something I often make for myself, and this dish was perfect for a cloudy, slightly chilly fall day. Though the bowl looked small, it was very filling, and I ended up having to pass on the delicious-looking cakes, after all. Even though I won't likely have another chance to visit Randy, I hope it manages to stay in business longer than its predecessors at this location.
Randy

Minato-ku, Roppongi 1-3-37

Ark Hills Annex

3-3568-2888