Our last morning in Tokyo was quick. We had time to pack our bags, eat breakfast, and catch our bus. Our trip into the city from the airport was in the dark, so getting a little tour of Tokyo by bus during the day was a bit of a treat. Even better, it was rush hour (no sarcasm) and we got to do a lot of people watching.

People in Tokyo mostly commute on foot or via train. The train system is pretty great and seems to go anywhere you’d need it to. Another note, people in Tokyo dress really really well. I’ve only ever seen that many men in suits at church or like, pictures of Congress. You will likely feel shabby the moment you get there (especially after a 13 hour flight) so maybe pack a blazer or something.

People in Tokyo are also generally thin (from the walking I assume) and considerate. You want to hate them all for being so perfectly put together, but you can’t because they’re also so kind, aware of foreigners, and willing to help if you need it. Respect for others is what motivates them to wear medical masks when they’re feeling under the weather. It’s also why this country is so remarkably safe.

Kind of a side-note, there also seems to be a huge emphasis on family here. People take their kids everywhere, even at night, to shop and eat and socialize – and their presence is tolerated, even welcomed, by the general public. I’ve never seen so many cute little babies strapped to moms and dads bellies, mellow and just along for the ride.

So, basically I’d move here tomorrow if I could. And if I thought they’d let me bring Murdock. This sentiment has taken me quite by surprise. I realize I’m gushing, and I’m sure I haven’t begun to grasp the complexities of the culture here, but on the surface it’s everything I’d want in a city.

This was the flight from Kagoshima to Tanegashima with a little view of Mt. Fuji.

And once we arrived, I hopped in a tiny Japanese car with the steering on the right and it was weird.

This was around the time I accused Cody of trying to drive us off the road. Being on the other side is hard to get used to, both as a passenger and as a driver. It’s easy to miss stop signs and crosswalks when you’re thinking about which lane you should end up in after you turn. So it’s a good thing the max speed is around 35 miles per hour.

We found our favorite new chips, and a little typo on some plastic cups.

First dinner on Tanegashima: Cody had curry rice (pronounced ka-ray ree-su in Japanese) and I had the “yakitori special”. This was the first meal I devoured with abandon.

I loved Tokyo, and I can’t wait to go back. Tanegashima is a completely different thing – rustic and utilitarian and charming. But while the people in Tokyo were polite and helpful, the people on Tanegashima are already family. More on that later!

I’d heard good things about okonomiyaki before coming to Japan. It was high on my list of foods to try upon arrival. Okonomiyaki is basically a giant cabbage pancake layered with sprouts, pork, noodles (in Osaka style okonomiyaki) and sauce. Nothing challenging about those foods for me, so I was pretty excited.

The restaurant we went to was beyond rad. Tucked away on a side street, down a steep and narrow flight of stairs. Ten seats, two cooks, a cloud of smoke, and one giant griddle.

After waiting for a few seats to clear, we took our places in front of the action. We ordered off of a laminated, illustrated menu by pointing out what we wanted directly to the cook. After finishing off the order before ours and setting it in front of some Japanese customers, he started ours. A little puddle of batter, swirled thin like a crepe, a big handful of cabbage and sprouts, and three slices of unsmoked bacon.

An impressive flip, and a scrambled egg that I didn’t get a photo of.

Mounds of fresh noodles, which were piled on top of everything else and flipped again.

When these pancakes began to look finished, the size of them made me nervous. I’ve never seen a Japanese person leave food behind. And even if  they do, they wouldn’t here, because the cook is watching you eat. THEN when that glossy brown sauce hit the grill, I knew this was going to be a struggle for me. It smelled intensely sweet, and that dusting of seaweed sticking to the top – the combination of smells made my stomach turn.

Mayo though, I can handle mayo. Maybe I’d get through it.

But I couldn’t. I wanted to stop after three bites because the sauce and seaweed  just weren’t for me, but I pushed myself and ate half of it. For perspective, those things were bigger than my head and probably an inch and a half thick. STILL, leaving half of your food unfinished in front of a foreign cook who takes his job seriously and does it well – I’ve never been so embarrassed to leave a restaurant. And I’m supposed to be a good eater. An adventurous eater. A grateful and easy restaurant patron. A person who can count the foods she hates on one finger (it’s bananas btw). And this was the third Japanese meal in a row that I couldn’t finish. First udon, then my overly rich ramen, and then the massive seaweed-infused dessert-sauced okonomiyaki. All serious eaters love Japan and it’s cuisine. If I don’t love it, what am I? Maybe I should just go get a job at the Casserole Shanty. For a couple of hours the segment of my identity named “food lover” was battered, and I tried to console myself by thinking that if nothing else, maybe I could take up kendo and come home from Japan with bulging muscles and zero percent body fat or something.

After a week on Tanegashima, I can assure you that won’t be happening, but for a couple of hours I was pretty nervous. So I’m chalking my first few meals up to horizon-expansion, a serving of (probably needed) humble pie, and just bad luck.

I’m pretty tired over here, but I really want to get these posts up so I can start talking about Tanegashima and the rest of the here and now. Also this language barrier thing has put me in a bit of a funk today, so in the interest of time and tone I’m going to be sort of brief. Don’t take it personally – it’s not you, it’s me. Promise.

We decided to spend our morning at the Tokyo Skytree because Cody knew how to get there and it’s got a great view of the city. There’s a shopping mall right next door where we poked around while we waited for our turn to go to the top of the tower.

Japanese shops and products are really design-oriented, which I appreciate.

The Skytree is rather big.

When it was our turn to board the big elevators for the trip to the top of the Skytree (which was so high up our ears popped) we were encouraged to get real cozy. The elevators were big, but in America they would have put half as many people on for the sake of personal space. Anyway, that guys face on the right. The cutest.

More insane views.

Skytree snack time: curiosity compelled me (as it frequently does) to try that lychee vinegar soda on the left. It was more vinegar-y than I expected it to be, but the more I drank it the more I liked it. Cody got ice cream with corn flakes, which turned out to be rather good.

The Skytree has these sections with glass floors. Pretty cool, but again with the personal space. That was the best photo I could manage.

After the Skytree we went back to the smorgasbord that is Shinjuku for lunch where we got to order ramen with an automated machine in front of the restaurant. I’m so mad I didn’t think to get a picture of it. I was distracted trying to decode the menu and match it up with the little photos on the machine. When I go back I’ll make sure to keep my wits about me. Anyway, that ramen was amazing. It’s a variety made with pork bone broth and the flavors are intensely delicious. Kind of in the way dark chocolate cheese cake is intensely delicious. I mean I could only eat about ten bites before I started feeling like I was choking on it. It was super duper ridiculously rich.

And so then I had to work off the lunch with some calisthenics.  Luckily there was a perfect routine on tv, but I felt funny because I left my work out pantyhose in America, silly me (I mean those girls were wearing pantyhose to work out).

Fin.

You know those games you play when you’ve spent so much time with someone you’ve run out of real things to talk about? Hypothetical question games? Cody and I played that a few times on our way to Texas and one of the questions we pontificated on was: if you could have a super power what would it be? Mine was and will forever be teleporting. I love visiting new places – no – I live for it, but the process of getting there is freaking tedious. Exhibit A: our faces at the end of our 13 hour flight from Dallas to Tokyo. Also, I keep buying neck pillows thinking they will help me sleep, but my neck is too, I don’t know, something? and they never ever help. So at 5pm Tokyo time, 2am Dallas time, we landed and I took my first steps on truly foreign soil.

Stop number one: the airport bathroom. Their reputation preceded them, but I have to add my voice to the report: Japanese toilets are intense. Pasted next to this handle bar was a page of instructions on how to use all the buttons for a full Japanese toilet experience. There’s a seat warmer, a bidet, a “super” deodorizer, and sound effects so nobody has to hear anything upsetting while you do your business. I’ll be honest, I haven’t tried most of the functions because I’m paralyzed with fear.

Aaaaanyway, after refreshing ourselves we took a two-hour bus ride to our hotel in Shinjuku and thought about ordering room service so we could get to sleep quicker, but that hotel was fancy and had some fancy room service prices to go with it, (like 30 bucks for a box of noodles) so we reluctantly ventured out. And in the first two minutes of walking out the hotel door we were greeted with …an earthquake (3.7 on the Richter scale)!

Which was, frankly, anticlimactic compared to the sensory overload that is Shinjuku. After walking about two blocks the skyscrapers faded into the night and we were surrounded by food. After wandering through the streets for a few minutes, assessing the photos of dishes the restaurants put out for foreigners, we settled on an udon restaurant where I tried some fried shrimp and udon with a barely-poached egg on top. It wasn’t bad, but thick noodles aren’t really for me – something about the squidgy texture.

The restaurant itself was awesome though, and when we walked in the door all the cooks shouted “irasshaimase” which means “welcome”. Shinjuku at night is foodie wonderland and it has this energy that’s completely intoxicating and enchanting and I’ll dream about it forever.

The next morning we woke up at 3am on the 27th floor of our hotel, waited as long as we could, went downstairs at six or so and wandered around for a bit. Tokyo is remarkably clean and people tend to not lock up their bikes, which is kind of mind-boggling in a city this big.

Up next is the Tokyo Sky Tree, some ramen I could barely eat, and a soda made with vinegar. I’ll promise I’ll be quick about it.

Coming at you from Tanegashima, Japan on Wednesday morning (yes, the future), sitting on tatami mats next to a rice paper window screen. I apologize for the gap in posting. I don’t know what it is about traveling but, in transit, my brain just can’t go to a place where blogging feels like a possibility. There’s a switch in my head that takes me from reflection mode to intake mode and there is no in-between.

Let me tell you, there has been a lot of transit. The Saturday before last, Cody and I packed up our car and drove to Texas with Murdock. It took us three days. That’s three days of driving, three days of fast food, and two nights of interstate hotels. Once we arrived, we had to get Murdock all set up for his extended stay with my family. So there were vet visits and pet store visits and a rattle snake vaccine because Texas is rattlesnakes.

Texas is also delicious barbecue, Mexican food, and football enthusiasm, but I didn’t think to take pics of any of that.

One of the only fun things for me about road trips is sampling “exotic” drive thru cuisines. Steak ‘n Shake is a standard in the south and Whataburger is all over Texas.

My parent’s new house in Texas has a massive backyard and Murdock is in looove.

That’s a happy pup.

Since Japan doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, my mom put together a little pre-Thanksgiving dinner for Cody and I, and she incorporated Christmas and my birthday too, which I will miss spending with family this year.

I have to publicly thank my Ma and associated kin for taking care of Murdock while we’re in Japan. On top of everything, Murdock had surgery on his knee shortly after Cody and I left and my mom has been tending to the poor soul in his recovery. I’ll be coming home to the new and improved Murdock 2.0 minus one luxating patella and I won’t have had to do anything. It’s unjust, I tell you. Mom – you’re wonderful.

Japan photos coming up next!

I tried to sit down and write this post three times without success. Apparently rice intimidates me. It’s such a basic thing – so fundamental to survival for so many people,  and also so rife with tradition that I have no claim to. But I eat it, and I cook it, and I think I’m allowed to share a couple of tips that have helped me make it better.

When I’m making white or jasmine or basmati rice I use the absorption method, and you probably do too. Most rice bags outline this method with a ratio of 1:2 rice to water, dumped in a pot and brought to a boil, then covered and reduced to a simmer for 15-20 minutes until all the water is absorbed into the rice.

I used to have a problem where the rice I made always came out mushier and generally crappier than I would have liked. I was helping my grandma out in the kitchen a while ago (who’s from the south and lived in Japan briefly and makes rice a LOT) and I noticed that she used a lot less water than the package called for, and her rice always came out pleasantly dry and fluffy. I asked and she informed, which brings me to TIP #1: USE LESS WATER, GET NICER RICE. Instead of two cups of water for every one cup of rice, I use about 1 1/3 cups of water per cup of rice, and I love the result.

I haven’t gone all the way down to 1:1 rice to water, but some people do it and like it. Some people don’t even measure their water with cups, they just fill their pot until the water comes up past the rice to their first knuckle. I’m not that confident yet, so I use cups.

Rice can be delicious on its own when it’s properly made, but it’s such a lovely canvas for other flavors, it feels like a shame not to embellish from time to time. A pinch of saffron before cooking in Indian dishes, a sprig of thyme thrown in the water for a little herbaceous note, or fresh cilantro stirred in after cooking for freshness. And salt. Never forget to salt your rice, no matter what you’re making

If you’ve ever wondered what Chipotle does to their rice to make it so tasty, it’s this: they stir in fresh lime juice and chopped cilantro after the rice is cooked.

What’s even better is throwing a crushed clove of raw garlic in the pot with the cilantro and lime after cooking and just letting it sit and percolate before serving (just remember to fish it out before you dish up). I call it garlic-infused cilantro lime rice, and it is bangin’. So that’s TIP #2: ADD STUFF BECAUSE IT’S FUN and basically foolproof.

Brown rice is a beast of another stripe. It’s essentially white rice with the brown hull left on, and that hull makes the rice a super-healthy complex carbohydrate with lots of fiber, but it also makes it tricky to cook. Brown rice takes longer to cook than white rice – like twice as long. And when you’re working with stove cooking, the heat is sort of unevenly concentrated on the bottom of the pot. Uneven heat and long cooking can cause problems for brown rice, ranging from burning to under-cooking, with grains that are mushy on the outside and crunchy on the inside. Yum?

What I’m trying to say is (TIP #3): YOU SHOULD COOK BROWN RICE IN THE OVEN. Ovens are really good at creating even heat for long periods of time with no serious burny hot-spots. I follow the Alton Brown method (Alton Brown is my spirit animal) and my brown rice is always perfect. I do not mess with the water ratio here. Just follow the recipe and trust in Alton.

There is so much more that could be said about rice, and probably a lot of people out there with a lot of opinions about what’s right and proper, but I’m just a girl who eats it sometimes. So if you have any advice for ME, bring it.

I love lists. I’m not particularly organized by nature, but I am frequently compelled make lists. This is a little collection of some of the things I’m glad to have stumbled on recently.

1. Savory pumpkin recipes. This mac and cheese is from Food 52, and I found another amazing looking pasta recipe with pumpkin, fried onion and sage from Cafe Johnsonia that made me mad that I didn’t think of it first. Can fried onions be the next big food trend please?

2. Tack studded pumpkins. I haven’t done much to celebrate Halloween the last few years, but I really like it as a holiday. The decorations are fun, you don’t have to stress about spending money on gifts, and there aren’t any rigid food traditions except for candy, so you can make something different every year. I’m tucking away this simple and cute pumpkin decorating idea from A Subtle Revelry for when I get my own place to fancify for halloween.

3. Fall fruits like apples and pears go so well with cheese. I especially adore them with aged goudas, and I’ve been obsessed with this brand for a couple of years now: it’s called Two Sisters Isabella and it’s unreal – buttery, sharp, nutty, and so rich it’s almost sweet. Plus it has those nice little crunchy crystals that all really good aged cheeses have. I’ve ordered it from Murray’s cheese shop in New York before and they did a great job shipping, but check your local cheese shop first!

4. This is old news that I just found out about, but Nick Offerman (Ron Swanson of Parks and Recreation) wrote a book, entitled “Paddle Your Own Canoe: One Man’s Fundamentals for Delicious Living”  and it looks like a gem (I mean, that title!). My favorite thing about Nick Offerman is that he basically IS Ron Swanson: expert woodworker, total man’s man, and married to the actress who plays Ron’s crazy ex Tammy, Megan Mullally. He did a little stand up routine at Tulane University a couple of years ago while promoting the book, and his act was really one sincere nugget of wisdom after another, delivered with his signature dry humor (and peppered with silliness here and there). I especially like what he had to say about pursuing hobbies. Not everyone has the luxury of a career they find personally fulfilling, so it’s important to find something you do for you that makes you feel alive. Deliciously so.

5. Coconut oil as a beauty product. I’m theeee worst about remembering to moisturize, and when the weather cools off, my skin likes to reward my forgetfulness by breaking out in little dry bumps on the backs of my arms (tmi? too bad). I’ve started using coconut oil as my after-shower body moisturizer and I love it. It smells amazing, it sticks around longer than lighter oils  (like Neutrogena’s sesame oil), and I keep it in the shower so it’s easy to remember to slap some on before I grab my towel. Apparently Dr. Bronner’s has a fair trade coconut oil, so you can take it a hippy step further and moisturize organically AND ethically if you like.

6. This sweater. I found it at Target and had to take it home. It’s chunky and long enough to cover my bum (which means I can wear leggings as pants in public!) and the pattern is graphic and interesting without being straight-up “tribal”. Don’t get me wrong, I really like tribal prints, but I have my doubts about the trend’s longevity. Not that this is a big investment piece – it’s $30 bucks – so go get one.

7. Rugged stones. I really like the masculine yet delicate thing that’s happening with jewelry lately, and I feel like raw stones are a great way to add a little sparkly impact without venturing too far outside the realm of the geometric. This quartz necklace is from SPARKLEFARM on etsy. I ordered one for my mother in law for mother’s day and I’m her new favorite daughter in law. Also her only daughter in law, but that’s beside the point.

8. Leather paneled leggings – because sometimes plain leggings won’t cut it, but full leather is scary.

9. Gems and chains – I love this little bracelet I found on etsy from ShopClementine, but i’m lobster-claw challenged (can anyone get them on with one hand?) so I’m thinking about making some of my own with the beads strung on stretchy plastic thread so I can look fancy while being lazy.

What’s on your brain this fall?

Every family has a few recipes they are famous for – that they get asked to bring to potlucks and write down on notecards over and over. In my family, three in particular come to mind: pumpkin pie, hot fudge sauce, and beef stew.

I’m pretty confident in the kitchen and don’t usually like to tether myself to recipes – trusting my tastebuds above all else – but in this case, I pull out the cookbook. This stew has a lot going on, and it has to be just so.

The foundation of any good stew is meat, browned enough to coat the pot in caramelly brown “fond” and anchor the dish in succulent complexity.

Next come aromatics – onion and garlic, cooked in fat while scraping important brown bits back into the mix.

A dusting of flour will give the liquid some body.

The main reason I need to look at the recipe when I make this dish – there are lots of spices. Especially cloves and paprika – but also pepper and sugar and worcestershire and lemon juice and bay leaves and you get it.

My favorite part of the recipe: walking away for a couple of hours.

And while you were away, stew happened.

The Recipe: Spiced Beef Stew

serves 4 (at least)

Ingredients:

1 lb stew beef

1 T. vegetable oil

1 onion, chopped into large chunks

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/4 cup flour

1-1 1/2 qt. beef broth

***

2 tsp. lemon juice (more doesn’t hurt)

2 tsp worcestershire sauce (I tend to be generous here too)

2-3 bay leaves

1 tsp. ground cloves

1 tsp. sugar

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 teaspoon paprika

salt to taste (at least a teaspoon, probably more)

***

2 cups carrots cut in large chunks

2-3 cups cubed potatoes

Method:

-Coat meat in oil, brown over medium high heat, working in batches (at least two or the meat won’t brown properly), set aside.

-Add another tiny bit of oil to the pot, and cook onions and garlic until slightly browned (throw in a little beef broth if things start looking burny instead of brown).

– Add meat back to the pot, dust with 1/4 cup flour and stir while cooking for a minute or two.

-Add 1 qt beef broth and all ingredients from lemon juice down to salt. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to low. Simmer one hour.

– Add carrots and potatoes and additional beef broth if necessary to cover vegetables. Cook 30-40 minutes or until potatoes and carrots are tender.

-Taste for seasoning and serve.

I adore the fall season and the foods that usher it in. There are apples for apple pie and cider, acorn and butternut squashes for roasting, and pumpkin for, well, basically everything else.

I have a small semantic beef with the fact that there is a pumpkin version of everything this time of year. Pumpkin coffee, pumpkin beer, pumpkin cake, pumpkin cream cheese, pumpkin cookies, and ETC – most of these things are probably delicious, but most of these things also do not contain pumpkin. You are not drinking a squash-flavored latte; you are drinking a latte that is spiced in a way that reminds you of the flavor of pumpkin pie. Credit where it’s due: Starbucks calls theirs a “pumpkin spice latte” which is basically not lying.

Where my issue gets a little more intense is with baked goods. Pumpkin pie and other custard-based desserts aside, pumpkin doesn’t do anything good for the texture or flavor of most bakery items. Adding pumpkin to a cake is like adding cement – you could maybe pull it off in a pound cake but you’ll be lucky to achieve a texture lighter than banana bread. I sort of dislike the density of muffins to begin with, but adding actual pureed pumpkin to the batter basically guarantees a heavy muffin the day it’s baked, and a pumpkin hockey puck the day after.

The absolute worst offender in my opinion is the so-called “pumpkin chocolate chip cookie”. Friends, cookies are supposed to be crispy on the edges, chewy in the middle, and full of butter. It’s impossible to actually add pureed pumpkin to cookie dough and end up with a cookie that fits those requirements. In fact, most “recipes” for pumpkin “cookies” require three things: pumpkin, chocolate chips, and cake mix. That “recipe” makes a sad, dense, small, free form cake. Do not call it a cookie.

What I’d like to do is divorce the word pumpkin from it’s associated spices. The noble pumpkin has more to offer us if we think outside the realm of sweets. There’s curried pumpkin soup, pumpkin stuffed with cheese and bread (um, yes), roasted pumpkin with sage or chipotle, even pumpkin filled ravioli. The pumpkin possibilities are nearly endless, and inevitably delicious.

That said, pumpkin pie is one of the greatest pies ever invented. And my mom’s is probably the best in the world (as is, I’m sure, your mom’s). There are a handful of other desserts I will allow to contain actual pumpkin, and they are: cheesecake, ice cream, mousse, any custard, maybe soufflé, and the occasional pumpkin roll. Beyond that, I’d recommend playing with other spice-heavy holiday flavors, like maybe gingersnap. A gingersnap is a fine cookie.

So, now you know. Proceed in pumpkin consumption responsibly.

When I cook, I’m always trying to boil a recipe down to it’s most fundamental parts. Not because I’m some kind of food nerd chemist, but because I’m a chronic questioner with no respect for authority, and I’m also lazy. Maybe my personality flaws have made me a little bit of a food nerd – but I solemnly swear that my purposes are ignoble. Recipes for baking are always so bossy – I like to limit their space in my cookbook. Does anyone need more than one recipe for pound cake, when the only difference between one and another is the addition of cocoa? What about muffins? Are the differences between blueberry muffins and lemon poppyseed so vast as to require two separate pages? I say no. I think these recipes can be simplified and condensed.

After some trial and error, I’ve landed on a formula for scones that makes all others unnecessary. You can make it sweet or savory – like a pick your own adventure story, but edible.

The cardinal rule of scone making is not to over mix the dough. When you are making something you want to be flaky or crumbly, or tender (which these scones are) over-mixing is the enemy. So when you cut the butter in to the flour, use a pastry cutter or your hands – you want those butter chunks to stay pretty big.

For these scones I went savory and did two versions: cheddar chive and black pepper parmesan. You can really add anything you want as long as it isn’t going to add any moisture to the dough. So no pumpkin puree or applesauce or soft cheeses (unless you freeze them first).

When it comes to add-ins, the sky is the limit – just keep the pieces fairly small. I like to have at least two additions, just to make things interesting. Some of my favorite combinations are dried cranberries with orange zest, blueberries with brown sugar, blue cheese with bacon, and diced apple with cheddar. These cheddar chive scones with a dash of cayenne and paprika were pretty great too.

Once you select your additions and get them prepped, add them to the dry ingredients and mix them in until everything is evenly distributed. Then pour in your cream.

Fold the cream into the dough gently until things are roughly homogenous (very roughly). You want everything to sort of clump together, but there will likely be  a few dry spots. Be especially careful if you’re working with something fragile like blueberries – those things like to burst during the stirring process – do your best to prevent it. This is why I think making scones in a mixer is a bad idea.

If you have any giant clumps of butter, break them up gently with your hands.

When you finish, it should look something like this.

Pack the dough into a disk, wrap it in plastic, and chill it in the fridge for at least 20 minutes – longer if you want.

Brush the scones with cream and sprinkle with sugar if they are sweet, salt or cheese or spices if they are savory.

Bake them for 20-25 minutes at 400 degrees.

So as a special present to my readers I experimented with photoshop and made a little recipe/flow-chart for these scones. I’m still getting used to using a tablet, as evidenced by my handwriting here. Anyway, it’ printable, so yay!

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