Sushi quest

In Japan, raw fish and rice taste better, on average, than in the US, so trips to Japan must involve as much sushi consumption as possible. Owing perhaps to their training or the tacit cultural nous that may explain much of Japan, Japanese sushi chefs exhibit a surprising amount of control over the supply chain that sees a slice of raw fish stuck atop a oblong block of sticky rice. Compared to the US, the markets in Japan offer greater rice and fish options (because demand is just so huge), and chefs often have specialized for longer in the art of sushi (sushi chef is a career rather than a job). See Jiro Dreams of Sushi, again, to see the importance of rice and fish control to elevating sushi.

The degrees by which some sushi is better than others are subtle, and I am certain my palate lacks the sophistication to distinguish among the best. But when you eat good sushi, your brain becomes dosed with the good chemicals. You are happy.

Sushi can be very good in the US, but you will likely pay more on average than you would for comparable sushi in Japan, and you would usually find such excellence only in fine dining establishments. In Tokyo -- in particular in Ginza -- you can pay high prices for the finest sushi one could imagine -- or so I am told; I have never been to such an establishment. During this most recent trip to Tokyo, we had sushi under a rail bridge, at a fish market, and at the airport.


Under the bridge

I don't normally hang out under bridges, but my Japanese friend, Dice, knew a spot. Maybe sushi under a bridge sounds unsanitary, but this is Japan; there isn't a lot of filth. Remember that space isn't wasted. Why not serve food under bridges? This particular rail bridge happens to be right next to one of the busiest train stations in the world, Tokyo Station, and nearby Ginza, a neighborhood famous for its high concentration of acclaimed sushi restaurants; a terrible sushi restaurant would fail. So, yes, Red Hot Chili Peppers fans, we were under a bridge downtown; I am happy to say no blood was drawn, but I, however, could not get enough (sushi).

Eric, Dice, and Bobby posing next to the delicious sushi shack. Dice was a colleague based in Washington, DC, who is now based in Tokyo.

Dice, left; Missouri friend Dave Wucher, passing through Tokyo on his way home from a trip to Nepal, right. In front of both of them is a glass of shochu with a pickled plum. The pickled plum provides a sour and sweet contrast to the alcohol of the shochu. It sort of tastes like a vodka Sprite but with less alcohol and less sugar.

How to begin to describe? It just tasted so good...

Luckily Dice was able to read the Japanese menu for us.

Our dedicated sushi chef.

Bobby made a mess in his drawers as he has a habit of doing at Japanese restaurants (revisit the blog entry describing our first night in Penang). I changed him on the floor of this tiny bathroom. He needed a lot of wiping off and a change of pants. He became irritated and began crying as it took a long time to clean him up and involved a lot of pinning him down (he loves to squirm these days, and he doesn't care if Daddy is trying to keep him from, well, flinging poop all over himself; we've all been there, I guess, though we don't remember). Changing his diaper here was an exhausting experience. I downed some pickled plum shochu after Bobby was all cleaned up.

The sushi is that good, Dave. Have another shochu with pickled plum.

At a fish market

You may have heard about Tokyo's fish market because it's a very special fish market. I am told that Tsukiji is the world's largest fish market, and it is also one of Tokyo's most visited tourist attractions. This is sort of funny because the market is not set up for tourists at all, and many tourists have experienced "almost getting run over" by the electric carts that carry fish and fish accessories. My mom is still traumatized by watching -- so she says -- my dad "trying to get himself killed by a fish scooter" during our fruitful 2012 visit to Tsukiji ("He's like a rogue tourist!" she also said, as he walked out for in front of us, excited as usual to participate in the food and agriculture trade).

Looks a bit run-down, eh? Well, Tokyo is building a brand new modern fish market, and these are the last days of old Tsukiji.

At the airport

Narita is not one of those destination airports like Singapore's Changi, Seoul's Incheon, or the airports of Doha or Dubai. Tokyo's Narita is, however, a serviceable airport and is more comfortable and cleaner than Chicago's O'Hare. There are not even many places to eat in the airport. However, Terminal 1 has a sushi restaurant, Kyotatsu, that Christine and I have visited twice now. The sushi there, in my gaijin eyes, is excellent. It is a little expensive, but would you rather have a pre-made sandwich from a cooler? I will always try to eat sushi here.

Kyotatsu, at Narita airport, looks pretty traditional, even though it's in a modern airport. Airports usually like to make everything look tacky and cartoonish. Kyotatsu is a respite.

Last sushi before Chicago, Bobby. Someday we'll take you here when you have teeth.

Soon, Bobby, soon you can grab one of these delicious little nuggets and plop it in your mouth. Grow teeth first, Gummy Joe.

An advertisement to convince diners that macrobrew is better than microbrew? Not that it mattered, only macrobrew is on the menu. In fact, on a side note, I think that the Japanese macrobreweries engage in some uncompetitive practices to keep the microbrews off menus generally.