If I ever thought about becoming a vegetarian, I have now completely forsaken all such foolish thoughts: Last weekend, while on a walk through Fussa City, Rheagan I and stumbled upon a very nice little restaurant who’s name I cannot pronounce let alone spell. Anyways, this was one of those joints that doesn’t typically cater to westerners. There was no English on the outside of the building and the door frame cut off at about my chin (The Japanese are many things, but tall is not one of them!). In fact, we were not even sure that we were looking a restaurant until we spotted some neon red signs of bull-heads and some dining tables through the restaurant’s window. We were starving and decided to give the joint a shot.
We marched in and were immediately greeted and seated in a very tight arrangement around a table with a gas burner at the center. Lucas, taking after his father, immediately reached for the burner which was thankfully off. Ordering food turned out to be quite an ordeal. The menu was 100% Japanese with no pictures and our waiter knew only slightly more English then we did Japanese. Finally we were able to discern which parts of the menu were chicken, beef, and soup. The remaining 75% of the menu remained a mystery. Rheagan and I randomly selected a chicken dish and a beef dish. Lucas selected cheerios and crackers, but quickly decided that they needed to be on the floor rather than in his belly....
After about 15 minutes, our waiter returned and began placing all sorts of bowls, plates, and forks around the burner at the center of the table. All of the bowls and plates were empty save for a few unidentifiable sauces and/or liquids. The waiter then clicked the burner on and dashed away. As soon as the waiter was gone, Lucas made another dive for the burner. His mother’s cat-like/Marine reflexes prevented any damage from occurring (sure is a good thing that Lucas has his mother around to balance out all of my bad genes). The waiter returned and delivered 3 large plates with, very carefully/thinly cut, raw chicken and beef arranged on them. He also brought out 2 large bowls of soup. The waiter made some odd gestures at the food and then at the burner. The message was clear: cook the food for yourself.
We ate the chicken first. It was so-so, certainly nothing to complain about. Next we went for the beef which was heavily marbled with fat. Turns out that the beef was "Kobe Beef". It was hands down the best beef that I have ever had--period. Imagine a low end BK hamburger and then compare that taste with that of the best steak that you have ever had. Now take the difference in taste between 'low end BK' and 'Best steak ever' and multiply it by about 10. This is how much better Kobe-Beef is than any stake that that I have had in the States.
Unfortunately, there was a down side to this little culinary adventure. And that down side was the soup. How it is that the Japanese can serve such wonderful beef with such terrible soup, ill never know. Imagine the taste of hot tap water (aged 2 days) mixed with mulch. Yuck!
Sounds like you had some bad miso! I never liked the seaweek in miso either, but normally I like it.
I've never had Kobe beef, but I've heard good things about it. After all, true Kobe beef comes from cattle that are fed both grain and beer. That's a good sign!
Posted by: David at October 27, 2004 11:51 PMthe bad genes you refer to started in a Portland restaurant with a very hot dish left in front of you by the waiter, proving again that baby reflexes are faster than regular size humans. It was July, you were 4 mo old and the occasion was the rehersal party of your aunt Donna/uncle Bob's wedding. I think I have the facts right. I don't know about the mulch-aversion gene. Neither you nor your brother were finicky eaters.
Posted by: granddad at October 28, 2004 05:10 AM"Bad Genes and Mulch"
Dear Beloved Son-in-Law (also known for your "bad genes",
First, let me say that neither Luke or you have bad genes; you have male genes. Curiousity draws you to danger, like a moth is drawn towards fire. If the world were female only, we would have no sense of purpose or smug self esteem. I did not realize this until recent years (since I was raised in a female dominate environment. When Gabe kept me jumping to hopefully see him raised with all his body parts still intact, I was often frustrated with his use of what appeared to be common sense. He had plenty, he just chose to disregard it for more exciting adventures. Besides, it was good for his ego to control his mothers movements, emotions and energy level. However, your story made me laugh, so you have probably added a few quality hours to my life span. Not one day passes, that I do not think of my family in Japan, wishing you health, happiness and safety.
Give my first born and your first born a huge hug and kiss. Write