Finally, Some Culinary Escapades

Several days back, we were freed from our two-week quarantine, which had only allowed us to go to the office or the venues. They were kind enough to allow us to go out of the hotel for 15 minutes to pick up food, which normally meant 7-11. (Best egg salad sandwiches people have ever eaten, I’m told.) As you already know, quarantine does not make for good Olympic blogs.

Our late-night work schedules are also over, so having someone wait on you and serve you food not out of a container is pure heaven. This also usually leads to blog items. This time is no different.

SHIRT OFF HIS BACK

Some of my colleagues are staying at Tokyo Stay Gotanda, in a spicy neighborhood with bars and restaurants and other pleasures of the night. I visited them one night and we ended up at their favorite watering hole, Kuro Duri Funny. The waiters and cooks were all wearing black T-shirts with the a great logo. I desperately wanted one and asked if they had any for purchase. Alas, they only had smalls and, sadly, I no longer fit into those. I was out of luck. The next night, after the NYT group dinner, I passed on going back to Gotanda and went back to my room instead. I had a couple of work things to wrap up. But Terri Ann, the person who herds the cats that are the NYT staff, and who hadn’t been there the night before, and others, ended up at the same place. She got wind that I wanted a shirt and asked again if there were any larges. No, sorry, we’re out, she was told. “Well, what size are you wearing?” she asked the waiter. “Large,” he said. ”Great, how about I buy yours?” He proceeded to take off his shirt and sell it to Terri Ann. She then washed it and gave it to me! One of the many reasons we all love Terri Ann is because she stops at nothing to get us what we want and need, which in the case of the shirt were the same thing.

THEY’LL HAVE THE SHASHIMI PLATTER

Let’s stay at Kuro Duri Funny for this next story, shall we? Larry and Emily (Tokyo Stay Gotanda-ites) were hungry and thirsty after a long, miserably hot day at track and field. They walked the block to Funny. “BEERS!!!” was shouted at them when they entered. The wait staff took to shouting this every time the NYT folks walked in. And the NYTers would shout it back, “BEERS.”

We’d like to eat, Larry told the waiter. What do you recommend? The waiter returned with a menu, all in Japanese but thankfully with pictures. Shashimi? he asked, and pointed to a beautiful platter. After weeks of 7-11 packaged food, they were going to get a taste of Japan.

Beers in hand, the platter arrived and it could not look more delicious. Some pink fish and some redder fish, both expertly sliced thin. Likely salmon and tuna. It was delicious, they both said to each other. Followed shortly after by Emily saying, “This seems oddly like raw chicken.” Larry dismissed it, telling her she was crazy. It was salmon and tuna. They finished the platter and vowed to return for more another night. When they returned, Emily used her translation app that reads the menu and changes it to English. It was indeed an entire platter of raw chicken. Shashimi, it turns out, means raw fish or meat. Funny.

WE’LL COOK OUR OWN

My first actual sit-down-in-a-restaurant meal was at a Korean BBQ joint in the basement of a building in Gotanda on the night I tried to buy the T-shirt. You could smell it from blocks away. It was so delicious and the best part is that it was cooked. We know because we cooked it ourselves at the table. We tried the beef and the pork and the chicken. Next time, just the beef. The Koreans and the Japanese like their beef well marbled with just the right amount of fat. It’s so good.

I was sitting next to Jeremy. He’s a vegan. He comes for the beer. And the beers were huge. Sake for me because of that gluten thing. Also very good. The smoke wafted into Jeremy’s and my face for most of it. At one point Jeremy, who hasn’t had meat in 20 years, said, “I think I’ve had a McNugget’s worth of smoke!”

THE ART OF THE MEAL

Since the 1930’s, the Japanese have been luring diners into their restaurants by displaying exact replicas of their meals in the windows. They all try to outdo each other.

I lifted these next paragraphs verbatim from this website:

The process of creating the perfect plastic meal is painstaking. First, a restaurant provides a real dish, which is then “deconstructed” by Iwasaki Be-I’s technicians and broken down into all its individual elements. Some everyday ingredients in the dish may be in stock, but just as often the real food is used to create a silicone mold. 

Liquid plastic is then carefully injected into the mold, making sure that no bubbles or imperfections are left, and the “food” is “cooked” at 180 degrees before being left to cool.

Practiced staff use a magnifying glass to examine every element of the dish, with any component exhibiting the slightest imperfection rejected. 

The next stage of the process is just as exacting, with the countless colorless fish, fruit and vegetables rendered realistic. Teams of painters use delicate sprays to turn a spider crab the required shades of orange, turn all the elements of a vegetable and fried rice dish the correct color and mottle a slice of prime beef. 

The varied colors of a “tai” sea bream are a challenge, but a block of plain white tofu is more straightforward.

The final stage in the process is the precise arrangement of the completed ingredients on a plate or, in the case of what appears to be simmering ramen noodles, in a bowl.

OUR POST-QUARANTINE NYT MEAL

We usually have a group meal the Thursday night before the Opening Ceremony. This year, of course, we were quarantined so we had it last night. The temperatures had cooled to a respectable 86 degrees with a slight breeze, so the outdoor dining was quite nice. When the daytime “feels-like temperature” is 110, 86 is a welcome respite.

Motoko Rich took us to a place near her neighborhood and ordered the many-course meal in advance. Authentic Japanese cuisine at its best. Here is a course-by-course look at our meal.