Cooking vegetarian food with only one burner, no oven, limited counter space, a tiny refrigerator, on a budget in a country where you don't understand half of the food is Really Hard.
Somebody send me some cheese.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
My kitchen
One of the reasons I chose this particular dormitory is because it claimed to have a private kitchen. I had visions of baking and cooking masterpieces; cookies and toasted cheese, sushi concoctions and delicious meals every night. Unfortunately, in my food dreams I forgot to take into account that this is Tokyo, and the most expensive thing here is space. I am sorry to say that my visions of culinary grandeur are not to be, and my food dreams will be forced to die an early death (oh well; I forgot my cheese in Seattle, so I couldn't have made toasted cheese concoctions anyway). But I still have to eat, so I thought I'd share a few of my cooking adventures so far.
The kitchen:
I want to note here that I am standing about as far back as I can in my very-mini-bathroom (across the hall / entrance way from the kitchen zone) to take this picture. As you can see, my kitchen consists of a sink, one electric burner, a very-mini-fridge, some hooks, and a small shelving unit. Thankfully, the dorm had a whole variety of stuff I could take and use for my kitchen so I was able to assemble the necessary equipment at minimal personal cost. Needless to say, this lack of preparation space and various heat sources makes cooking a bit difficult, and leads to unfortunate situations like this:
This is my attempt to cook one thing (eggs) while re-heating / keeping another thing warm (potatoes) while toasting a third thing (bread) all at the same time, in the same pan. It was at least moderately successful, though I'm afraid I'll have to get used to having at least one part of my meals be cold.
Side note: I learned the other morning that no matter how thinly one slices a potato, it still takes forever to cook. Second side note: I feel bad for giving the knives at home such a hard time for being dull; with the knife I've been using here I live in fear of rogue dull blades whenever I cut something more solid than broccoli. I haven't slipped while cutting anything yet, but I'm still anxious that I'll lose a finger. Actually, I would probably just maul myself if the knife slipped: it isn't sharp enough to cut the whole way through.
After a variety of noddle / egg / vegetable / tofu concoctions, I finally worked up the courage to venture into the fish department of the grocery store. That day there was a store-wide '98 yen sale' going on, which was accompanied by speakers playing an annoying and repetitive song to which the only lyrics were '98 yen'. I was convinced that it would be stuck in my head for days, but I had thankfully forgotten it by the time I walked home. However, the sale lured me into the fish department in hopes that I could afford something, and I bought two salmon mini-fillets for 98 yen each. And then I cooked them. (They actually look more like rack of lamb, but I'm not sure 'rack of salmon' is actually a cut.)
It was quite the concoction. I made tempura and rice, and had basically poached / sauteed salmon (a style used to cook dumplings and stuff, where you cook a bit with lots of liquid, then pour it off and saute a bit).
In the end, I came up with this:
The salmon was too salty and the tempura wasn't really fried (I didn't have enough oil, or the right pan) and had become cold, but it wasn't the worst thing I've cooked.
Other concoctions include curry, vegetable stir-fries, and a lot of tea. If I get anything out of living here, I hope it will be the mastery of the 'one pot wonder'; I'm already tired of cold food.
The kitchen:
I want to note here that I am standing about as far back as I can in my very-mini-bathroom (across the hall / entrance way from the kitchen zone) to take this picture. As you can see, my kitchen consists of a sink, one electric burner, a very-mini-fridge, some hooks, and a small shelving unit. Thankfully, the dorm had a whole variety of stuff I could take and use for my kitchen so I was able to assemble the necessary equipment at minimal personal cost. Needless to say, this lack of preparation space and various heat sources makes cooking a bit difficult, and leads to unfortunate situations like this:
This is my attempt to cook one thing (eggs) while re-heating / keeping another thing warm (potatoes) while toasting a third thing (bread) all at the same time, in the same pan. It was at least moderately successful, though I'm afraid I'll have to get used to having at least one part of my meals be cold.
Side note: I learned the other morning that no matter how thinly one slices a potato, it still takes forever to cook. Second side note: I feel bad for giving the knives at home such a hard time for being dull; with the knife I've been using here I live in fear of rogue dull blades whenever I cut something more solid than broccoli. I haven't slipped while cutting anything yet, but I'm still anxious that I'll lose a finger. Actually, I would probably just maul myself if the knife slipped: it isn't sharp enough to cut the whole way through.
After a variety of noddle / egg / vegetable / tofu concoctions, I finally worked up the courage to venture into the fish department of the grocery store. That day there was a store-wide '98 yen sale' going on, which was accompanied by speakers playing an annoying and repetitive song to which the only lyrics were '98 yen'. I was convinced that it would be stuck in my head for days, but I had thankfully forgotten it by the time I walked home. However, the sale lured me into the fish department in hopes that I could afford something, and I bought two salmon mini-fillets for 98 yen each. And then I cooked them. (They actually look more like rack of lamb, but I'm not sure 'rack of salmon' is actually a cut.)
It was quite the concoction. I made tempura and rice, and had basically poached / sauteed salmon (a style used to cook dumplings and stuff, where you cook a bit with lots of liquid, then pour it off and saute a bit).
In the end, I came up with this:
The salmon was too salty and the tempura wasn't really fried (I didn't have enough oil, or the right pan) and had become cold, but it wasn't the worst thing I've cooked.
Other concoctions include curry, vegetable stir-fries, and a lot of tea. If I get anything out of living here, I hope it will be the mastery of the 'one pot wonder'; I'm already tired of cold food.
My neighbourhood
Every Japanese city I've been in is a strange combination of almost third-world mayhem and cutting edge technologies, with a weird dose of cute (more on those others later [probably]). Walking home from the station, I pass two fruit stands, one fish stall, one meat stall, and one flower seller, all selling from open market stalls built into the side of buildings; not actual door-and-window shops. Everyone is on bikes (I've developed a habit of looking behind me every few dozen feet so I won't get hit), but they all seem a bit run down. Children often ride in seats attached to the front of back of the bike, and older people often sit on the back wheel when someone else is riding. The houses and apartments are never attractive, and always seem out of place in one of the world's biggest cities; they feel like they belong in old Soviet areas, or Southeast Asia in less developed areas. They're hard for me to describe, so I've put a few pictures below.
Today was one of the nicest days I've had so far - recently it's been very cold, rainy, and windy - so it seems that everyone is doing laundry. Since I was coming home at the same time as masses of young Japanese schoolchildren, I received some strange looks for taking pictures of the street.
The first is an apartment building, the second a house (note the Japanese car: they are almost all really short and squat and square-like). Everyone always dries their laundry outside (or in the house if it's wet or too cold); there aren't many dryers around. So on a day like today, there are sheets everywhere, including my mini-balcony.
Lots of apartments or flats are above a street-level business, like a bakery or a doctor's office. I pass this auto shop every day, but I thought today it looked rather funny:
I was standing a bit out of away so no one would think I was creepy (except all the school children; I couldn't escape their strange glances) so it might be hard to read the big AUTO WORKS sign above the garage. Above that sign are about half a dozen futons airing out, all in old fashioned floral prints. The next window is full of sheets and clothes hung to dry. All above the two men working in the garage. Oh Japan.
Also on my way home, I pass a side-street that leads to a small graveyard. Today I decided to investigate; I'm fond of graveyards and always like to explore them (during the day). Unfortunately, this one had a locked gate and so I couldn't go in. But I still took pictures.
This tree was actually across the cemetery from me, which is why the exposure is a bit off, but I thought the falling cherry blossoms were quintessential Japan. (Side note: because it's cherry blossom season, there are sakura flavored versions of everything all over the place. Which is great.)
Being Japan, the graveyard backed right onto a parking lot (these seem common in residential areas, as almost no one has garages; one pays for a long-term spot near one's house) where construction was being done, probably to reinforce the boundary between the two lots. The supports are visible in the first image just above.
The view from my window is also pretty typical Japan. Lots of buildings, lots of wires, not very much coordination or green areas. Also, lots of laundry.
The building across from me is pretty typical of a house here; multi-level, probably split into one-family flats, with an open roof and some plants. When I was in Osaka a few years ago, I stayed on the top level in a mini-apartment like the one in this picture.
A note on Japanese addresses: they don't really exist. Almost none of the streets have names. Instead, a city is divided into wards, which are then divided into mini-sections a few blocks across. The number of a building tells which block of a section, or 'ku', it is on, and then has a number indication which building it is within the block. Which still doesn't help much, since for a long time numbers were assigned based on when a building was constructed. While American forces during the occupation tried to westernize the system (with names and stuff), Japan reverted to their original system soon after the Americans left. This is the main reason why some of the larger streets do have names. Obviously, finding an address in Tokyo is not very easy, so most businesses provide mini-maps on their websites or information. Giving directions is also the main job of policemen.
Today was one of the nicest days I've had so far - recently it's been very cold, rainy, and windy - so it seems that everyone is doing laundry. Since I was coming home at the same time as masses of young Japanese schoolchildren, I received some strange looks for taking pictures of the street.
The first is an apartment building, the second a house (note the Japanese car: they are almost all really short and squat and square-like). Everyone always dries their laundry outside (or in the house if it's wet or too cold); there aren't many dryers around. So on a day like today, there are sheets everywhere, including my mini-balcony.
Lots of apartments or flats are above a street-level business, like a bakery or a doctor's office. I pass this auto shop every day, but I thought today it looked rather funny:
I was standing a bit out of away so no one would think I was creepy (except all the school children; I couldn't escape their strange glances) so it might be hard to read the big AUTO WORKS sign above the garage. Above that sign are about half a dozen futons airing out, all in old fashioned floral prints. The next window is full of sheets and clothes hung to dry. All above the two men working in the garage. Oh Japan.
Also on my way home, I pass a side-street that leads to a small graveyard. Today I decided to investigate; I'm fond of graveyards and always like to explore them (during the day). Unfortunately, this one had a locked gate and so I couldn't go in. But I still took pictures.
This tree was actually across the cemetery from me, which is why the exposure is a bit off, but I thought the falling cherry blossoms were quintessential Japan. (Side note: because it's cherry blossom season, there are sakura flavored versions of everything all over the place. Which is great.)
Being Japan, the graveyard backed right onto a parking lot (these seem common in residential areas, as almost no one has garages; one pays for a long-term spot near one's house) where construction was being done, probably to reinforce the boundary between the two lots. The supports are visible in the first image just above.
The view from my window is also pretty typical Japan. Lots of buildings, lots of wires, not very much coordination or green areas. Also, lots of laundry.
The building across from me is pretty typical of a house here; multi-level, probably split into one-family flats, with an open roof and some plants. When I was in Osaka a few years ago, I stayed on the top level in a mini-apartment like the one in this picture.
A note on Japanese addresses: they don't really exist. Almost none of the streets have names. Instead, a city is divided into wards, which are then divided into mini-sections a few blocks across. The number of a building tells which block of a section, or 'ku', it is on, and then has a number indication which building it is within the block. Which still doesn't help much, since for a long time numbers were assigned based on when a building was constructed. While American forces during the occupation tried to westernize the system (with names and stuff), Japan reverted to their original system soon after the Americans left. This is the main reason why some of the larger streets do have names. Obviously, finding an address in Tokyo is not very easy, so most businesses provide mini-maps on their websites or information. Giving directions is also the main job of policemen.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Things I have bought based solely on the packaging
I've always thought I was reasonably good (for a modern American child) at resisting the temptation of advertisements and alluring packaging. I always try to buy things that are more practical and aren't just expensive cool packaging. But, in Tokyo, I've fully abandoned the practice and am buying all sorts of things (OK, only a few, and they're still mostly only￥100) based at least partially on the packaging.
I've already showed you my new favorite drink, but here's another variety:
I've actually bought about four of these, I love them (read: the Seattle label) so much. They're pretty good in the evening after a Japan style bath (a new addiction).
Moving on, we have another clear favorite: I think anyone who didn't know before now knows I love Thomas. So how could I possibly pass this up?
AND LOOK! On the back! TOBY! Jeff, if you're reading this, you better be excited. This cheerful, if rather obsolete, brown character is the namesake of my (beloved) car, Toby. Plus the top says 'A fun snack!', so I had to buy it. (The back seems to be a story about 'Toby and the New Roof) It's basically just chocolate Pocky. But with THOMAS.
This one is just rather funny, and pretty typical of Japanese English-language advertisements. Some are more standard English like we might use, and some don't even make sense, but this one finds a happy medium:
I think what they mean is 'there's no accounting for me not buying this just to take pictures in the privacy of my apartment box'. But it was pretty good. I had it for breakfast yesterday.
Spring is arriving in Tokyo, and so cherry blossom are coming out in all the department stores and train stations. I bought this in huge discount store that sells everything from washing machines and baby socks to makeup and food, and it was a bit of a splurge at about ten dollars. But it's so beautiful! I'm also rather fond of Sakura flavoured things in general, so it seemed worthwhile.
Sakura wine! Notice the sakura blossoms floating toward the bottom. I haven't opened it yet, but I'll try to remember to give an update.
BONUS: Strange Japanese thing that I didn't buy, despite the strange packaging (and product). Behind the sakura wine was the rest of the alcohol section, and I went to see what the prices were like on the off-chance I could afford a beer (nope). On my way back, I ran across this amazing creation:
I'm not even sure what this is, so I've dubbed it 'egg booze'. Why anyone would want egg booze is beyond me, especially when it comes in a bottle like that. You can see that the inside of the label gives many suggestions for use (for mom and dad and to share with friends) and the back has a helpful receipe (mix with sprite or fanta; wow!). I'm still skeptical. Perhaps it's similar to eggnog or something, but in my mind that is no improvement. But even though I resisted this neigh-irresistible product, I seem to have fallen for most of the other advertising ploys I've encountered. Oh well. At least they're delicious.
I've already showed you my new favorite drink, but here's another variety:
I've actually bought about four of these, I love them (read: the Seattle label) so much. They're pretty good in the evening after a Japan style bath (a new addiction).
Moving on, we have another clear favorite: I think anyone who didn't know before now knows I love Thomas. So how could I possibly pass this up?
AND LOOK! On the back! TOBY! Jeff, if you're reading this, you better be excited. This cheerful, if rather obsolete, brown character is the namesake of my (beloved) car, Toby. Plus the top says 'A fun snack!', so I had to buy it. (The back seems to be a story about 'Toby and the New Roof) It's basically just chocolate Pocky. But with THOMAS.
This one is just rather funny, and pretty typical of Japanese English-language advertisements. Some are more standard English like we might use, and some don't even make sense, but this one finds a happy medium:
I think what they mean is 'there's no accounting for me not buying this just to take pictures in the privacy of my apartment box'. But it was pretty good. I had it for breakfast yesterday.
Spring is arriving in Tokyo, and so cherry blossom are coming out in all the department stores and train stations. I bought this in huge discount store that sells everything from washing machines and baby socks to makeup and food, and it was a bit of a splurge at about ten dollars. But it's so beautiful! I'm also rather fond of Sakura flavoured things in general, so it seemed worthwhile.
Sakura wine! Notice the sakura blossoms floating toward the bottom. I haven't opened it yet, but I'll try to remember to give an update.
BONUS: Strange Japanese thing that I didn't buy, despite the strange packaging (and product). Behind the sakura wine was the rest of the alcohol section, and I went to see what the prices were like on the off-chance I could afford a beer (nope). On my way back, I ran across this amazing creation:
I'm not even sure what this is, so I've dubbed it 'egg booze'. Why anyone would want egg booze is beyond me, especially when it comes in a bottle like that. You can see that the inside of the label gives many suggestions for use (for mom and dad and to share with friends) and the back has a helpful receipe (mix with sprite or fanta; wow!). I'm still skeptical. Perhaps it's similar to eggnog or something, but in my mind that is no improvement. But even though I resisted this neigh-irresistible product, I seem to have fallen for most of the other advertising ploys I've encountered. Oh well. At least they're delicious.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
しまった
Swearing in Japanese is rather strange. As far as I can tell, there is no distinct lexicon of curse words. Instead, context and formality seem to determine most of Japanese swearing. My favorite curse word, しまった, (shima'tta) is actually just the informal past form of a verb which means 'to complete', or 'to do', but often carries a connotation of a negative event having happened. For example, I could use it as an auxiliary verb with 'to forget' to inoffensively convey that unfortunately, I have forgotten my Japanese phone number. However, when used as a stand-alone in the short form as in above, it means something closer to 'damnit', and is much less polite. くそ, a word which in English I would not say in front of my grandmother or anyone for whom I wished to babysit again, seems to be much more flexible in Japanese; I once even heard it on a children's show (although it was the Bad Guy saying it to his Inept Minion). A word meaning 'loud and annoying' can be used to say 'shut up' rather forcefully, but can still be used as a descriptor when talking in normal conversation. I'm never quite sure if what I'll say will offend someone or not, so I typically try to keep away from those words and contexts. However, there are some times when I know they're fully applicable and appropriate, and this brings me to the inspiration for this mini language lesson: I've run out of hot water. Again. しまった。
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Train rides
This is my absolute new favorite possession:
My (student discount) train pass. I get cheap rides between my home and school stations (which are named on the top; the character with the arrows below it means 'school') and it has my name on it (at the bottom) and even my age (weird). This one s good for three months, and I can just wave it in front of the turnstile when I get off and on instead of buying a ticket and feeding it into the machine. Plus, it has a penguin, and I have very positive associations with penguins. (This guy is everywhere; there are posters advertising the pass all over the place and merchandise with him on it in all the big stations.)
This amazing poster is in my home station:
As anyone who's anybody knows, I love Thomas. I named my car after one of his friends, and tormented my brother with him as a child (Poor Jeffrey Thomas the Tank Engine Gary; I don't know if he ever got over it). Seeing him outside my station on my morning commute is one of the best things a foreign girl could hope for. Above him says (more or less) 'a kinder station is a safer station', and the bubble by his head says 'engine driver'. Down below where he's next to Henry and Gordon (side note: David Henry the Tender Engine Gary never got quite the response as the Thomas version, which was always a huge disappointment) he advises us to ask the 'station people' about anything we might not understand or are concerned about. Thank you Thomas; I will certainly do that. Thank you for keeping me safe. Between you and the happy penguin, I am certainly in good hands.
My (student discount) train pass. I get cheap rides between my home and school stations (which are named on the top; the character with the arrows below it means 'school') and it has my name on it (at the bottom) and even my age (weird). This one s good for three months, and I can just wave it in front of the turnstile when I get off and on instead of buying a ticket and feeding it into the machine. Plus, it has a penguin, and I have very positive associations with penguins. (This guy is everywhere; there are posters advertising the pass all over the place and merchandise with him on it in all the big stations.)
This amazing poster is in my home station:
As anyone who's anybody knows, I love Thomas. I named my car after one of his friends, and tormented my brother with him as a child (Poor Jeffrey Thomas the Tank Engine Gary; I don't know if he ever got over it). Seeing him outside my station on my morning commute is one of the best things a foreign girl could hope for. Above him says (more or less) 'a kinder station is a safer station', and the bubble by his head says 'engine driver'. Down below where he's next to Henry and Gordon (side note: David Henry the Tender Engine Gary never got quite the response as the Thomas version, which was always a huge disappointment) he advises us to ask the 'station people' about anything we might not understand or are concerned about. Thank you Thomas; I will certainly do that. Thank you for keeping me safe. Between you and the happy penguin, I am certainly in good hands.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
My new favorite drink
This is easily my new favorite Japanese drink. I haven't had any yet, but I'm pretty excited. The Japanese says 'esupuresso', which clearly translates to 'espresso', and I think the rest is pretty obvious.
Update: it tastes like iced coffee. Hm.
Friday, March 26, 2010
So, Japan
It's a group of islands that is quite prone to earthquakes. It is also very small, and rather crowded.
Which leads me to my room.
I had such high hopes for 'private kitchen and bathroom,' but I should have known better. I do have my own facilities, but they weren't quite what I expected.
My room in general is about the same size as my grandmother's walk-in closet. Granted, she has a rather large and beautiful closet, but having to use a closet as the best comparison to one's room is rather disheartening. My bathroom as a whole is about the size of my parent's bathtub. Sans shower, the room is very much the size of an airplane bathroom (another saddening relationship) and the shower / tub is so narrow that I have to turn sideways in order to wash my hair; standing straight-on means that my elbows hit the wall and get caught in the pink-polka-dot curtain. My kitchen is a sink, an electric burner, and the mini-est fridge I have ever encountered, together with a shelf set into the wall across from my water-closet. (I think the European name is more fitting in this context).
Once I have cleaned my room more thoroughly, I will post pictures of it. I have a cute nighttime city-scape view, and can hear lots of cars.
However, I love it here. I'm about 25 minutes outside of Tokyo proper, but it's still very busy here. Campus is very near Tokyo Tower, which is something of a Big Deal. (For those who don't know, Tokyo Tower is a radio / TV tower that resembles an orange and white Eiffel Tower. I've been there before; there is a clear plexiglas floor segment one can stand upon (or look through) with a clear view to the ground. Children tend to jump on it).
As of today I am an Official Resident Alien with a semi-mastery of the train system and an even greater mastery of asking for directions; each morning I've managed to become lost between the final station and the school, but I'm 99% confident that I figured it out coming home this afternoon. If not, I'm in trouble, because the Japanese placement exam is 8.45 Monday morning, and if I'm late (like I have been) I won't be allowed in, and all my Japanese-speaking ambitions will be over.
But now I am going to bed. I arrived with very little jetlag, but have still been going to bed on the early side. Now it is midnight, and the latest I have been up so far. How adventurous.
Which leads me to my room.
I had such high hopes for 'private kitchen and bathroom,' but I should have known better. I do have my own facilities, but they weren't quite what I expected.
My room in general is about the same size as my grandmother's walk-in closet. Granted, she has a rather large and beautiful closet, but having to use a closet as the best comparison to one's room is rather disheartening. My bathroom as a whole is about the size of my parent's bathtub. Sans shower, the room is very much the size of an airplane bathroom (another saddening relationship) and the shower / tub is so narrow that I have to turn sideways in order to wash my hair; standing straight-on means that my elbows hit the wall and get caught in the pink-polka-dot curtain. My kitchen is a sink, an electric burner, and the mini-est fridge I have ever encountered, together with a shelf set into the wall across from my water-closet. (I think the European name is more fitting in this context).
Once I have cleaned my room more thoroughly, I will post pictures of it. I have a cute nighttime city-scape view, and can hear lots of cars.
However, I love it here. I'm about 25 minutes outside of Tokyo proper, but it's still very busy here. Campus is very near Tokyo Tower, which is something of a Big Deal. (For those who don't know, Tokyo Tower is a radio / TV tower that resembles an orange and white Eiffel Tower. I've been there before; there is a clear plexiglas floor segment one can stand upon (or look through) with a clear view to the ground. Children tend to jump on it).
As of today I am an Official Resident Alien with a semi-mastery of the train system and an even greater mastery of asking for directions; each morning I've managed to become lost between the final station and the school, but I'm 99% confident that I figured it out coming home this afternoon. If not, I'm in trouble, because the Japanese placement exam is 8.45 Monday morning, and if I'm late (like I have been) I won't be allowed in, and all my Japanese-speaking ambitions will be over.
But now I am going to bed. I arrived with very little jetlag, but have still been going to bed on the early side. Now it is midnight, and the latest I have been up so far. How adventurous.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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