Coming out to play on cosplay street

We didn’t just eat, eat, and eat in Tokyo and Kyoto, you know. There was much to see, and anyway, there were always going to be a few hours in between meals, yeah? ☺

Some of those were spent in Harajuku, gawking at the youngsters dressed in their best cosplay outfits strolling down Takeshita Dori… well, not quite strolling, since the street was sardine packed that Sunday. The costumes ranged from the weird to the predictable – predictable only because so much had been written about them – like the Little Bo Peep costume, and the Maid.

On the Harajuku bridge leading to the Meiji Shrine, another favourite spot to catch cosplay, quite a number of those in funky outfits seemed a little shy, preferring to stand by the side and let their audience gawk as they walked by. One Miss, though, was not going to be a wallflower (no, that’s not a costume) that day.


The Maid With The Lollipop was standing smack in the centre of human traffic, drawing a huge crowd of admirers. The moment anyone whips out a camera, Miss MWTL bends a knee and strikes a pose, and there were many with cameras! Not content with just taking a picture, most of the tourists wanted to have a picture taken, too, with our young star.


Way to get into a lot of folks’ holiday pictures!!

If you weren’t the touristy type, and were feeling a bit down walking pass the madhouse scramble, do not worry. Help was at hand, for just a little to the left of this Maid, were another group of idealistic young ones who believed tha a little TLC would go a long way to solving the world’s problems.

Yes, folks, free hugs for everyone…

I should have waylaid the two ‘customers’ (with backpacks) and asked if they felt better after the hugs. After all, these weren’t the ‘Oh hello, how are you, haven’t seen you in a while’ wrap around the shoulders with a quick release type of hugs. These were the full bodied type that people who have just broken up/quarrelled with the boss/lost a pet need; ones that usually end up in someone having a good cry, type of hug. (By the way, what’s with the black and white stripped socks? They feel prison-y.)

Anyway, our favourite guy on the bridge was The Portrait Artist (can I call him Portart, like, you know, cosplay is from costume play, and Pokemon is from Pocket Monster?).


Mr. Portart draws these small kawaii caricatures that look something like this…

(You’ll have to turn your computer screen upside down, or stand on your head, to get the right orientation.)

One subject was a young and very attractive couple, who took their place like the others, kneeling in front of Mr. Portart.


Mr. Portart picks up a brown marker, grabs a tube and squishes a bit of paint on the marker, mixing colours. He then wipes of whatever excess colour on his right thigh (talk about well-worn jeans!), all the while rocking back and forth to a funky beat bellowing out of his yellow boombox.

I love the contrast between the brown face and the girl’s blonde hair and green eyes, rendered large and innocent.


He then takes out a few more tubes of paint…


… and sprinkles a bit of blue and green sky on his canvas …


… before adding a touch of orangey, yellowy rays of the sun, peeking through. Like fairy dust. Kinda neat, huh?

Anyway, the Sunday we were there was also St. Patrick’s Day, and Omotesando was awash in green.


I think they look more ridiculous than the cosplay girls, no?

Ouchi oishii!!!

By our third day in Japan, I was getting antsy. We had had Okinawan food (noodles, stir fry, tempura), tonkatsu, kushiyaki and teppanyaki, with some wonderful strawberries thrown in, but we hadn’t sunk our teeth into any sushi or sashimi yet. Hello? Have we got our priorities right, I was thinking (sometimes aloud, to J)?

I mean, we are in Japan, after all, where the freshest of seafood is supposed to pass through its famed Tsukiji market, from wriggling prawns…


… to clams and shellfish of all shapes and sizes.


But the star of the show has to be the tuna shipped in from all over the world, fetching the highest prices in the auctions...


before being carted away by the middlemen to their stalls in the market itself to be butchered (with deft force)…


… into manageable chunks ready for chefs, fishmongers and other retailers to purchase.


We did eventually have our fill of fresh raw seafood, from specialty spots like Isegen and Hakarime (raw anko and anago prepared in many creative ways), to sushi restaurants ranging from the pricey to mid-level, to even the humble bento boxes we picked up at Kyoto train station for our Shinkansen ride back to Tokyo (the quality of the latter belying its affordability).

The highlight for me was Sushi Ouchi, which we visited on our last night in Tokyo. The Shibuya restaurant is all about organic food and sustainability, right from its inception in 1983, before those concepts became hip and politically correct. The restaurant’s popularity with visitors increased after it was featured in a Japan Times profile in 2005. What’s not to like, when master Ouchi Hisashi is strict when it comes to choosing what to serve – “fish caught from the wild; rice from organic farms; naturally brewed rice vinegar, shoyu, miso and mirin; sea salt sun-dried in old-style saltpans; and fertilized eggs from free-range chickens”, according to the article.

This is a tightly run establishment – Ouchi-san had only two helpers, as far as we could tell, and the English speaking one attended to us. The waiter was unfailingly helpful and courteous, even though he became increasingly busy as the Saturday night crowd drifted in. He handed us our menu and apologised for his inferior linguistic skills. We smiled a little, since his apology was delivered in flawless English! (Anyway, a common language or the lack of, was never a problem in Tokyo and Kyoto.)

You need not blow a fortune here – set sushi meals begin at 2,100 yen and range up to a 10,000 yen omakase set that had both a sashimi and sushi platter. Our sushi platter came artfully placed on very impressive bowl.


I asked J what she remembered of her experience:

“I remember:

The beautiful pottery the sashimi and sushi were served in and that were stacked high behind the sushi chef.
The small size of the pieces.
The loosely-packed sushi (really meant for fingers).
The perfect seasoning of the fish.
AJI!!!! Horse mackerel -- never thought I'd like something more than toro. Absolutely no fishy smell, lush and oily texture, smooth as butter.
The neighborhoody feel of the place, given the people that were there.

Can we go back?”

We had asked the chef if we could have otoro with our set (if it wasn’t already part of it). The fatty portion of the tuna belly did not disappoint – J was in closed-eye ecstasy – but, as she says above, we were swept away by the aji, and not surprisingly, we had seconds!!! She also liked the place because it was “not trendy at all, and the prices don't reflect a premium”.

Yes, we can go back. ☺

Sushi Ouchi
2-8-4 Shibuya, Shibuya-ku. Tel: 3407-3543.
Open: Noon - 1.30 pm; 5-11.30 pm.
Time Out Tokyo city guide (copyright 2007) says it is open every day; the (2005) Japan Times article says it is closed Sundays and holidays

Monkfish heaven

We fell in love with monkfish when we had our first ankimo sushi in Berkeley’s Sushi Banzai. The liver was velvety and creamy, and when dipped lightly into ponzu sauce, was quite orgasmic. J and I could never stop at one… each.

So when we got to Tokyo, one of the restaurants I had to try was Isegen, which specializes in anko nabe, a monkfish casserole that is the perfect dish to warm one up during winter or a cool spring. In fact, Isegen serves its signature dish from September to April, so we went right at the tail end of the season.

Located in the greater Marunouchi area, Isegen has been operating out of its charming wooden premises since 1830 and serving anko from the fourth generation of owners onwards (whenever that is, you do the math).

The monkfish is not a delicate, willowy creature that is easy on the eye. Its meat, not surprisingly, is correspondingly firm, yet very succulent and full of character (which is another tactful of describing its looks). Isegen’s anko nabe is a cornucopia of various cuts of anko meat and skin, as well as generous servings of mushrooms, beans, radishes, gingko nuts and other stuff, in a light broth flavoured with shoyu.


Our middle-aged server spoke no English, which didn’t stop her from trying to carry on a conversation with us, and being generally helpful, friendly and obliging. She put the pot on a small gas stove on the table, and let us admire the dish, before turning on the gas.

La di da, merrily cooking away…


After a few minutes of boiling, I dug my chopstick into the pot just as she returned from the kitchen, and she immediately shushed me, in a kind matronly way, to leave it alone and wait for it to cook (meaning, she’s going to return and tell us when it was okay to dig in).

So, what to do? Prepare for the next leg of our trip, lor.


While we waited, we had a couple of side dishes as well, the highlight, not surprisingly, was ankimo dressed in subtle miso sauce. Mmmmmmmmmm.

The anko nabe didn’t disappoint when it was finally ready. I had feared the flesh was going to be overcooked, but it remained firm, juicy and flavourful. The skin was slippery and delicious – a wonderful texture food. An unexpected find were pieces of liver, which surprisingly stood up well to the cooking. It may not have had the creaminess of raw ankimo, but it remained somewhat delicate, and equally yummy.

The non-fish parts of the nabe were also a delight, having absorbed much of the goodness of the fish and the broth.

After finishing up every last bit of the nabe, our server returned to top up the pot with more broth and shoyu. She then put some cooked rice into it and turned on the stove again. After some time, as the consistency of the rice became more congee-like, our server returned, beat up to eggs, poured it into the pot and gently mixed it in. Just as it got done, she topped the dish with a generous serving of spring onions!

The rice/congee dish was a little salty for us, but still delicious and warming. J and I have relatively light tastebuds (I even like bland), so on hindsight, we should have asked our server to use more broth than shoyu when she topped up the pot for the rice dish. Having said that, Isegen was a winner all round!

[Check out Isegen’s website for details. When anko is not in season, the menu revolves around ayu, a trout-like sweetfish, and other freshwater fish, according to the Time Out Tokyo guide.]

No cherries but plums are pretty good too

We left Japan on Sunday the 23rd, thus missing the cherry blossom season by a week or so. We had been hoping that global warming would accelerate the whole blooming process for our sakes – but who’d have though that this would be one of the coldest winters and springs of recent years? Bah!

But, as we say in these parts, ne’er mind. Shinjuku Gyoen may not be awash with a riot of colours when we walked through on Saturday, but there were enough blooms to bring plenty of smiles to old and young alike. Certainly, the plum tree was doing its darndest to make everyone forget about those pretty lil’ cherries that always seem to hog the limelight.


A crowd gathered around this grand specimen that was spreading its wings majestically and welcoming all and sundry to take shade under its gorgeous blooms. Go Plums!!



It is said that when the cherry trees are blooming, this and other favourite blossom viewing parks are packed with groups of admirers having a good ol’ fashioned party, quaffing copious amount of sake and beer, and one can hardly move among the throngs. I guess there was a sliver lining then in being a week early – Shinjuku Gyoen was not crowded on Saturday. Still, there were enough folks enjoying the fine weather…

… lounging on their mats or rope skipping.


I thought: Why should they be the only ones chilling out? I wouldn’t mind having a lie down myself, with or without (more like without, actually) mat or groundsheet. So, zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Then, *yawn*, gets up to find, hmmm, mucho mucho stuff on me back. J couldn’t stop laughing as she attempted to get rid of some of the hay. I feigned indifference, secretly cursing not bringing any sake to drown my sorrows.

Anyway, there were plenty of other flowers in the park to keep one occupied, from yellow stuff…

… to white stuff …

… to red stuff.


There’s even, can you believe it, red and white stuff from one single tree! Creepy! (In a cool way, of course.)

You might be able to tell, from my over-reliance on the word ‘stuff’, that I’m no horticulturist. So what? I bet the many folks whipping out their cameras (mainly mobile, mind you) to take pictures…

… wouldn’t be able to tell their umes from their sakuras. Or maybe they could, since they look like they could read the Japanese signs next to the trees.

There were a couple of sakura buds getting ready to burst through into the warm spring air.

Actually, it was okay to miss the cherry blossoms in their full glory. There’s always the next time. If one really needs a more immediate fix, there are lots of pictures on the Internet. Just Google it.

Happy birthday Mistuh President….

So, we were walking along Omotesando when I stopped and snapped this window display for a lingerie shop.


J (slightly miffed): Why are you taking a picture of this?
Me: It’s a 10th anniversary display.