A cat cafe is not a place that serves cat sandwiches. It is a cafe… with cats.

Cat Cafes in Japan were very popular in the early-mid 2000s and still remain peppered throughout Tokyo. Building on the otaku culture of manga, maid and mimikaki (ear cleaning) cafes, cat cafes provide solace for people who love cats but can’t have cats in their apartments. Unlike the maid and butler cafes, cat cafes entice both sexes and are much cleaner and innocent than some of the more gender specific cafes in Akihabara (i.e. imoto or “little sister” cafes).

Cateriam is a cat cafe located near the west exit of Shimokitazawa station. Kayoko and I were walking to Second House for coffee and cake, when we stumbled upon Cateriam’s curiosity-inducing signage “3rd Anniversary: 300 yen for 15 minutes.”

After laughing and pointing at the sign for a few minutes, I suggested that as Umamimart (a media machine that brings you pressing issues in Japan), it was our duty to patronize a cat cafe.

Upon entry we were given a short, concise run-down of the rules.

Take your shoes off…

Wash your hands in the sink provided…

It is the customer’s responsibility to keep track of the clock.

Scan the menu…

Don’t mistreat or startle the cats.

Photos are OK.

Kayoko and I intended to stay there for only 15 minutes so we wanted to explore as much as we could, quickly. The general scene include about 15 cats draped all over cubbies, nabe (clay pots), book shelves and shoeboxes. Kayoko and I quickly found our favorites and admired their clean coats and pink paws.

Kayoko’s fave:

My fave:

Meanwhile, the server took our order and came back with a tray of our beverage and a little snack sized Aero chocolate.

I would say the most bizarre aspect of the cat cafe was how sedated these cats looked. Garfield would have been proud of these cats — pampered day and night by strangers whispering sweet nothings in their little, furry ears, eating Japanese canned cat food and having an array of toys to choose from. They were so out-of-it that I couldn’t tell if they were even looking at me. Their food must be really special…

Zzzzzzz…

Zzzzzzz…

“Why are you bothering me?”

Going to the cat cafe made me realize how cynical I can be. The staff and patrons seemed so genuine, not finding any part of this to be silly. Erecting shrines for cats that have gone “bye-bye” and setting up twitter accounts for some of the cats, there was something perfectly innocent about this whole operation.

Shrine for deceased Caterium cat…

Birthday illustration from fans…

Follow your favorite cat on Twitter…

Or friend them on Mixi (Japan’s Facebook):

Pink paws…

Some cats have their own DVDs.

We asked the staff person how the cats reacted to the earthquake back in March. She said that all of them piled into the corner of the room and refused to come out for a few days. These cats have recovered nicely, sleeping out in the open and providing therapy for their human admirers.

These photos my friends in Tokyo sent me gave me a glimpse of what is going on there. The images have also reshaped my idea of what to include in my pathetic earthquake kit consisting of some nonperishable food and 4 gallons of water. (Note to self: buy sweet things and dried foods).

Most of my friends and family are still in Tokyo, feeling that the radiation threat is not immediate. But the news is unsettling everyday.

My friend Abasa who lives in Tokyo sent me a bunch of photos of Shibuya station on the Inokashira line. This line leads to the turnstyle I used to commute to work everyday. This is shocking.

Inokashira line, Shibuya Station, March 13, photo Abasa Phillips.

Shibuya bus station, March 13, photo Abasa Phillips.

He also snatched some photos inside Japan’s Target equivalent Donki, in Shibuya, adding “Donki was pretty much empty, but things that Japanese don’t really eat like granola and oatmeal was untouched.”

Donki, Shibuya, March 13, photo Abasa Phillips.

Even after a huge event like this so many of my friends went back to work on Tuesday.

The panic engulfing Tokyo has left my friend Emi‘s workplace, Union Square Cafe in Tokyo Midtown, desolate enough for her to experiment with new recipes. She expressed concern about the extent of resources many businesses in Tokyo are using up while people in the north are really suffering from a lack of these resources.

Here are some photos she sent to me of the Precce Supermarket in Tokyo Midtown, Roppongi.

This sign says, “For the consideration of others, 2 per person, please.”

Tokyo Midtown, Precce Supermarket, March 13, Photo Emi Tao.

The kombu and sea vegetables section (kombu and other types of kelp are said to combat the effects of radiation):

Tokyo Midtown, Precce Supermarket, March 13, Photo Emi Tao.

My oolong-hai partner-in-crime, Mayumi, who works at Hitachi in Yurakucho says, “Maybe the situation of local supermarkets could be worse. They also don’t stay open late any more due to electricity conservation.”

She sent me these pictures of Seijo Ishii near her workplace.

Pasta section:

Seijo Ishii, Ginza/Yurakucho, March 14, Photo Mayumi Hirakawa.

Dried goods section:

Seijo Ishii, Ginza/Yurakucho, March 14, Photo Mayumi Hirakawa.

Since the embassies of most countries are urging their citizens to flee westward or leave the country, many of my friends have already situated themselves outside of the Tokyo area.

Although feeling relieved after traveling to Fukuoka, my friend Arnar added, “My mind is still with the people in the Sendai and Tokyo area.”

Before traveling to Fukuoka, Arnar sent me these. Notice the one, lone cup o’ noodle:

Shibuya, March 13, Photo Dr. Arnar Jensson.

The night of the earthquake:

Shibuya, 7-11, March 11, Photo Dr. Arnar Jensson.

Superstar (and matchmaker for me and my husband) Takachiho‘s photos proved that his humor is definitely still intact. Here, he snaps photos of Marusho, a market similar to Safeway, standard and mainstream. It looks like all the prepared food is gone. Meats seem to be plentiful.

Fried food natto, and fishcakes:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho

Dessert Tofu:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Breads and pastries:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

This sign says that on March 16, they will try to open at 10am, but may open later if delivery is delayed:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

The expensive stuff looks like it isn’t going anywhere:

.
Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Produce seems abundant:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Along with the eggs:

Setagaya-ku, Marusho, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Seijo-ishii is a more upscale version of Trader Joe’s with an international twist. The prices are higher and the square footage much smaller than Marusho. When I lived in Tokyo, I would shop here for dried foods, peanut butter and Best Foods mayo.

Most of the stuff here looks pretty untouched:

Setagaya-ku, Seijo-ishii, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Looks like Takachiho stopped in for something specific…

Setagaya-ku, Seijo-ishii, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Honancho, Home, March 14, Photo Yuusaku Takachiho.

Thank you to everyone who sent me photos. Love, love, love.

+++
Every dollar counts! SUPPORT!

- 10% of all purchases in the Umamimart Shop will go towards Earthquake & Tsunami relief efforts. Buy a mug!

- Drop by Yamahomo’s Help Japan! Fundraising Party this Friday. An anonymous donor will match up to $10,000 in funds so if you’re in NYC, you absolutely MUST GO!

- Donate directly to Japan Society’s Earthquake Relief Fund. It is a highly trusted source, and they’ve raised over $500,000 to date for this cause.

- In April, Yoko, Kayoko + Friends will be throwing a huge fundraiser in San Francisco to support the relief. Stay tuned.

*The title of this post is inspired by Haruki Murakami’s collection of short stories, published in 2000.

While my husband is away in Tokyo this week, I dig myself deeper everyday into a dark hole of despair and yearning. With emails from him like “I am going to Bar Tender in the day then Sasagin and Saburo in the night,” missing him is eclipsed by missing the food in Tokyo.

To torture myself even more, I dug through a bunch of Tokyo food images from my dusty external hard drive.

I couldn’t believe that I had neglected to write a post about one of my favorite unagi restaurants in Tokyo while I was living there. But I did pat myself on the back for documenting the spot well.

Unagi Ochai was one of my usual spots in Hatagaya, Tokyo. Located near the north exit of Hatagaya Station, it’s only visible to passersby above-ground by a little lit-up sign that says “Unagi Ochiai” (うなぎ落合 in Japanese). The restaurant itself is underground and seats about 15 people.

An unagi restaurant in Japan is not joking when it proclaims itself so. Most dishes are made with unagi and diners should expect to eat more than a few dishes that incorporate eel.

Not to be missed at Ochiai is the unagi-sushi plate. Eight perfectly positioned cuties land on the table with appropriate garnishes including pickles, soy sauce and a light soup.

Stomach: grrrr.

Marrying a Nagoya native opened my eyes to “hitsumabushi” which is roughly translated as “mixed stuff in a bowl/container.” I must say that they should probably rename it to “AWESOME mixed stuff in a bowl/container.” The Japanese are so modest.

Hitsumabushi contains a bunch of rice with a generously dense offering of barbecued eel on top, sprinkled with nori and shiso leaves.

Is that you, I hear asking… “That sounds like an unadon… you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know about”?

Hitsumabushi is different from unadon for several reasons:

1) The grilling technique for hitsumabushi is Nagoya style, with a little bit more crunch to it.

2) Unadon consists of two, uncut unagi pieces laying across rice. The eel for a hitsumabushi bowl covers the rice in many rows and is cut into 1cm pieces.

3) Unadon usually comes in a rectangular container while hitsumabushi comes in a bowl.

But this last difference is what really got me

4) Hitsumabushi is always served with a dashi broth. The broth is used in the end to enjoy the eel and rice ochazuke-style (liquid over rice).

My first encounter with hitsumabushi introduced me with a dilemma: at what point do I switch from eating the “dry” rice/eel combination with the “ochazuke” version. Everyone has their own rules, but I would usually find myself pouring the dashi over my bowl about 1/2 to 2/3 of the way through the consumption of my rice and eel.

Sigh.

I miss my husband. But I miss my hitsumabushi more.

Fuku in Yoyogi-Uehara was a last-minute discovery I made before my escape from Tokyo.

It was a five-minute walk from my apartment and served yakitori in a style much trendier than Tori-ina. Tori-ina brings in the 40s and 50s crowd, whereas, Fuku is patronized by people in their 20s and 30s.

The exterior is unassuming – no windows, just an entry-way with a noren.

When you enter the space, it’s small (but normal for Tokyo standards) – seating about 25 people with a glassed-off area where the yakitori chefs grill, serving as the centerpiece.

The selection at Fuku is wide, with the menu broken up into chicken, beef, homemade, seafood, vegetable and a la carte. It’s crucial to cruise the specials menu as well, which humbly stands on the tables and counters in a stiff plastic display stand.

The Menu:

Prices are normal for Tokyo standards with most sticks (one order equals one stick) hovering at ¥250 (nearly $3.00).

Like almost everything in Japan, presentation is flawless. They can literally make Premium Crackers look gourmet.

Raw Chicken completes any decent yakitori place in Tokyo. At Fuku, the raw chicken or tori-wasa (¥600) is served in such an aesthetically pleasing way – sitting atop a shiso leaf with a sprout of ginger in the middle. Eating these raw pieces of chicken dabbed into shoyu and wasabi halts conversation. The wasabi on the plate reminds me of Japan’s love for mountains.

Salad (¥680)

Homemade Astu-age or Fried Tofu (¥280)

Smoked Cheese (¥350)

Tomato rolled in Bacon (¥250)

Neginiku or Leek and Leg Meat (¥250)

Asparagus rolled in Bacon (¥250)

Hinagawa or Skin (¥220)

Enokidake rolled in Bacon (¥250)

Tsukune (¥250)

I would recommend this place for the atmosphere (lighting) and ease of ordering* (thanks to the menu that is clearly written in both Japanese and English). As for taste, I preferred Tori-ina’s salt and simplicity.

But the best part is, you can get off at Yoyogi-uehara (Fuku) or Hatagaya (Tori-ina) station and try both within walking distance.

* Fuku is always busting. Time your visit so you visit on a weekday, after 9pm. They also take reservations.

It’s funny how when you mention Japan and food in the same sentence, there only seems to be two options. You can take the fabulous gourmet-cheering, sushi-adoring, heavenly-graced and experimenting Michelin-guided way. Or, you can choose the back alley into the world of eyeball-abusing, crazed up, disgustingly weird nastiness that freak the shit out of most people, make them turn away and return their breakfast to nature.

But that’s Japan– nothing is entirely black or white, right or wrong, delicious or disgusting– and the limits for what you might encounter as the hottest new snack in your local cornershop are a bit wider than in downtown Copenhagen.

Being the typical Scandinavian and spending most of the year in windy, rainy darkness, I have a natural craving for sweets and chocolates to fill me with the inner sunshine I never get from the outside. Therefore, moving to Tokyo was quite a shock. I expected to shower myself in quirky flavoured caramels, go bonkers in exquisite luxury chocolate and explore large underground candy caverns beneath Shibuya. I knew Tokyo was off the hook in the consumer category and my hopes were high.

Instead all I saw on the convenience store shelves were Snickers and Kit Kats (with a wide selection of weird flavours, but as our Japanese Junk expert Yoko already pointed out in several reviews: they all taste like soap, not chocolate). Compared to a normal 7/11 in Copenhagen where half the store consists of shelves with candy, these shelves were stuffed too– but with chemical diet drinks, fake grainless bread, fluffy tasteless cake and loads of alcohol.

So no Candy Wonderland. But what do the Japanese chew on then when they need a little break from their busy meat-eating schedule? Well… more meat, it seems. The shops are busting with a wide assortment of meat snacks; finely sliced beef stems, chili infused pork bites, a whole dried octopus vacuum wrapped in clear plastic (great gift for your mum), a bag of little pink squid arms, long dried sausages and so on.

I was not surprised though. The Japanese really love their meat. My Swedish friend who lived in Tokyo had given up on being a vegetarian. He would simply not get a clear answer at restaurants when he asked whether the dish had meat in it. Things like bouillon, meat broth, chicken skin, fish, etc. are not considered meat in the same sense as Europeans do. So he caved in and gave it up. His stomach exploded for the next 3 weeks, but eventually he understood the Japanese lesson; Eat our meat or leave the island.

The other day I found these three bags in my kitchen cabinet, sent to me by Japanese friends with bad senses of humour. Yoko and I discussed these treats in depth. Whether they are too old or too weird to be eaten, I will let you readers judge the food by its wrapping.

Yotchan Stick

Anders: Yotchan is a snack brand selling little bags with sliced meats. It says ”katto” which could be a pun/double meaning for ”meat that has been cut” or Katto which derives from katsu which means winning in Japanese. So, meat snacks for winners! This Yotchan guy confuses me though. He sells beef but wears an octopus’ butt on his head. The bag contains 6 slices of dried steak from a cow that probably died in the 1970’s, instantly frozen and preserved in big tubes deep beneath Harajuku Station.

Yoko: Yeah, I don’t know why it features “Katto” so big, like the idea of squid being cut is a huge feature. Oh well, I suppose it’s simple pleasures for the main consumers of this product who are mostly likely drunk on lots of shochu and stopping into the nearest Lawson or 7-11 to top off the evening with some barf-inducing snacks. Next to the giant word “Katto” is some copy that says “A snack for adults” and “Sour UP!” I think these strips are marinated in vinegar and the sour quotient is a big part of winning the hearts of potential customers. The Japanese have a talent for the English language and often use “noun UP!” for copy that offers a benefit. For example, lots of make-up boasts the copy “Image UP!” meaning your style will improve. I’m sold!

I like how Yotchan is wearing a squid cap while wearing a suit! His hat looks like a penis, but at least it looks like he’s using protection.

Red Yotchan

Anders: This contains some weird, red meat bricks and I can’t seem to discover what kind of animal that gave up its body. It looks like Yotchan is pulling something… an octopus arm? A cow tongue? A horse penis? (well, they ARE long and red if you wonder)

Yoko: Oh my god! It’s the cap again, but this time, it’s more like a Smurf hat and he’s got a matching white body suit. My Japanese husband enlightens me on the fact that this type is the “Original Yotchan” and that all Yotchan products are (supposedly) made out of squid. (Anders, it would have been nice if this was horse penis). I do have a soft spot for this guy because we share the same nickname – one of my ex-coworkers back in Japan dubbed me Yotchan the first week I was there.

Sudako-san Taro

Anders: This bag depicts a happy octopus with the cutest eyes that just escaped a deep sea urn relic, now on its way into the world, full of dreams and hopes. Too bad that danger lurks in the shape of you when you rip open this bag and eat up the poor thing. I’m not sure what the little red man is doing here. Warning the octopus of the impending horror? Pointing the consumer to the food source?

Yoko: Just to reassure you that those cute eyes don’t fool you into thinking that this creature is actually real, they include the black fine print on the bottom of the package that asserts “This is a simulated image.” The clay pot in the background baffles me – is it covering the octopus in vinegar? I also like how there’s a personified octopus on the left side of the main octopus in overalls. It seems like he’s pointing to the actual product that peaks through the circular transparent window of the package.

Anders: Phew, I’m so glad I didn’t have to eat these. But on a wild guess they would probably taste dry, salty, kinda slimey and very old. Not what I consider a fine couch companion when watching my new Daria DVD box-set.

The candy situation is improving in Japan however. As the Western influence washes over the island kingdom with its healthy gifts of XXL sized junkfood servings, Starbucks quality coffee and of course, Lady Gaga, the selection of Western but also Japanese produced candy is growing. Here’s to more adventures in the Japanese sugar section.

*Anders is based in Copenhagen where he draws kids books and refuses to cook unless he has guests.

My friend Futoshi came back from Japan and brought some of the newest and weirdest junk food from the motherland.

In recent months, the most popular food item in Japan is apparently the edible chill-infused oil or 食べる辣油.  I saw articles about it in newspapers everywhere– Japan’s major condiment brand Momoya, came out with this type of chili-infused oil with fried garlic, fried onion, etc. I have been dying to try it and was very happy that Futoshi brought it back, along with a few other things.

You can find chill-infused oil regularly at Chinese restaurants, you know, that dirty container of very red oil with chill flakes floating on the bottom. But this is different. It’s spicy, but not too spicy, and you can pour it on top of rice. People say, “You don’t need anything else.”

After two bites though, I was done, and immediately got heart burn. Not so much a fan. After all, it’s oil, with bits and pieces of garlic and onion.

Sake candy, aka Sake Drops.

It tastes like sake, but after a while, it starts to taste like soap. Gross.

Sapporo beer-flavored caramel. Do I need to say more?

Subtle flavor of beer, but then it starts to taste like soap again.

The worst and gross-est, takoyaki-flavored caramel.

It’s like salt taffy, without any sweetness. It does have a strong takoyaki flavor with a very strong Worcestershire sauce taste.

Why does Japan have to keep coming up with weird and gross junk food like these?

I have five more days in Tokyo. I am filling up on soba, genmai cereal and tan-tan men every opportunity I get. My dad always said, “Japan will always be around, America will always be around.” So I am not totally distraught — comforted by the fact that the noodles, sashimi and oolong-hais in Tokyo will be waiting for me the next time I visit.

The last part of town I lived in Tokyo was Yoyogi-Uehara (about a 15 minute walk from Harajuku and Shibuya). I would dub Yoyogi-uehara as an “oshare” (chic, fashionable) spot with prices that were noticeably higher than my ultimate favorite Tokyo neighborhood, Shimokitazawa.

During my short six-month Yoyogi-uehara inhabitance, my husband and I discovered numerous gems. One of the biggest dissapointments of our departure date is that we discovered this “oshare” izakaya in Yoyogi-Uehara just three weeks ago. After my husband read about this place in a book, and a local told us about this place, we finally spent our last free Saturday night in Tokyo here. It was well worth the above-average price.

The exterior of Sasagin suggests to the experienced Tokyo diner “expect to shell out at least ¥5,000 per person”:

I love the interior of Sasagin — well lit without being bright. The bamboo fitted on the ceilings under the lights added a great earthy atmosphere to the place:

The place is filled with lots of locals (we didn’t see many people in their 20s):

Chopstick cover:

Otoshi (complimentary starter): Tofu made at Sasagin.

This guy was SO enthusiastic about all the drinks he served — he even gave me a free taste of Nigori Umeshu.

Radish condiment to the sashimi dish we ordered. If I could name this photo, it would be “Party.”

The sashimi was literally glistening.

More sashimi porn:

Shirako ponzu — this post is the 4th post on UM to mention shirako, or fish gizz.

Crab and spinach with creamy sesame dressing.

The hotate (scallop) patties were a little heavy on the sauce.

Anago and mizuna salad with ume dressing. Unfortunately the sour ume dressing overpowered the delicate taste of anago.

The Sasagin age-dashi tofu was to-die-for. The tofu I had at Sasagin was quite possibly the best tofu I have had — ever. The tofu was very silky and melted in my mouth almost immediately but had its own characteristic taste that was unforgettable long after it melted away.

Check out the grain in the tofu:

All these dishes plus five drinks total of sake and sochu totalled ¥12,000 – perhaps a little expensive for a weekday jaunt. But hey, that’s the price you pay at an “oshare” part of town in Tokyo… and it was a damn fine meal.

Sasagin 笹吟
Kobayashi Building II, 1F
1-32-15 Uehara
Shibuya-ku, Tokyo
T: 03-5454-3715

Usaya, located in Shimokitazawa, is a small country-style izakaya that serves dishes compiled with organic ingredients in fabulous Japanese dishware purchased from fleamarkets. It opened two years ago under Shimokitazawa station.

Exterior:

Interior:

My husband and I decided to throw our wedding after-party celebration at Usaya. We asked the owner beforehand if he could serve a large crowd of 17 people at ¥5,000 a head (with unlimited drinks). The result was a bunch of dishes that were perfect for a mid-December Saturday.

Anko nabe:

Soumen and Mozuku:

Tai:

Dried fish jerky:

Fried shrimp:

Persimmon, figs, blueberries, yogurt, spinach salad:

Oden:

Party members:

The food at Usaya is quite impressive because no matter how much you eat, you never feel sick at the end of the night. It’s not overly salty or oily. The attention to ingredients is also noticeable in all their menu items, as they serve dishes that bring out the texture and color of each food.

But what really makes Usaya stand out is the service. The staff are naturally helpful and friendly, something so rare in the white-gloved, robotic world of service in Tokyo.

USAYA
2-24-14 Kitazawa
Setagaya-ku, Tokyo
T: 080-3158-4613

One of my favorite drinks I discovered since living in Tokyo is Kishu Ryokucha Umeshu (Green Tea Plum Liquor). I am a sucker for green tea anything, and when I discovered that there was a drink that fused green tea with one of the other things I am a sucker for — umeshu, I was convinced I had found myself living in the right country.

Saburo, a bar in Hatagaya serves Ryokucha Umeshu on the rocks. The combination of Saburo’s crystal-clear block ice, shaped with an ice pick, and this grass-green colored liqueur is an excellent after-dinner indulgence. The umeshu lends a sweet and tart taste, while the green tea element throws in an aromatic pleasure boost.

One of the top items on the list of things that I will miss in Tokyo is Kishu Ryokucha Umeshu. Although I might be able to order direct from the Nakano Group, I suspect I’ll really have to shell out the yen for shipping.

I went to visit my dad’s grave yesterday and on my way there, we had to transfer trains at an adorable little station, Surugaoyama in Yamanashi Prefecture, at the foot of Mt. Fuji.

At the kiosk, I spotted a snack named “Unagi Bone” made by Ichimaru foods. I loved the retro packaging and that there was both a shoyu (soy sauce) and salt flavor. I wasn’t that crazy about the price though — ¥530. But I am a huge fan of anything unagi or anago and had to take a chance on this snack. I broke down and bought the shoyu sauce option.

We busted into the package while waiting for the train. The crunchiness was perfect for a mid afternoon snack. When chomped on, it gave off a great savory taste of unagi. Another great thing about Unagi Bone is that it didn’t make me feel junked out the way potato chips can. Although they are probably fried, it didn’t make me feel like I had an oil-slicked throat no matter how many I ate. I also like the fact that I got a good amount of calcium.

The next time I got back to my dad’s grave, I will look forward to the fact that I can purchase the other flavor — salt.