I want my bike back

The other day my son and I were out on an adventure.  I don't typically ride my bike to the train station, but my husband wasn't with us and sometimes my son falls asleep on the train.  I figured he could rest on the bike while we rode back instead of whined about walking. 

I found a small bike parking lot, where I could pay ¥100 for 6 hours of parking (less than $1).  We parked the bike in slot number 3 (of 40 slots) and went on our adventure.

When we returned several hours later, there were two men working on the payment machine.  They tried to tell me that the bike park was closed!  I guess they were having issues with the payment machine. 

Once activated, the machines hold the bike's tires until payment is received.  I couldn't just go and grab my bike.  I told them my bike was in slot number 3.  They grabbed some tools and opened up the bike rack mechanism and manually reset the machine, releasing my bike.

My son was super interested that he could see inside this machine that we regularly use.  I paid the men.  It took us a little bit of time to leave because my son had the men explain how the machine worked.  It was an unexpected lesson in mechanics!

Sweet and hot

The first time I saw a truck selling sweet potatoes, I thought I had misunderstood what they were selling.  Why would they be selling roasted sweet potatoes out of the back of their vehicle?  But the smell was undeniable. 

Like chestnuts being sold on street corners in some big cities, roasted sweet potatoes are a popular winter food sold by street vendors.  Instead of fancy food trucks or simple carts, the sweet potatoes are usually sold out of the back of trucks outfitted with ovens filled with hot stones. 

The sweet smell wafts away from the trucks, drawing customers in.  Some people take their sweet potatoes home in a paper bag, while others rip open the foil right there and eat it on the street.  The one thing they don't typically do is walk around munching on their warm potato because walking while eating is considered rude.

The typical sweet potato sold in these trucks have a reddish purple skin and light yellow inside.  Nothing is added to the potato, not even salt or butter.

Periodically we will see trucks selling purple sweet potatoes.  I find this exciting.  I don't think the purple potatoes taste better.  In fact, they are a bit drier than the regular ones.  They are just unique and pretty. 

When my son and I saw a truck selling 5 different sweet potatoes, we wanted to try it.  The paper cone came with 7 chunks of sweet potato for ¥700 ($6).  It was a bit expensive for potatoes, but the varieties were intriguing. 

We started with one of the yellow potatoes and worked our way through the colors.  They were all delicious!  My son and I agreed that one of the yellow ones and the orange ones were the absolute best.  They were so creamy and sweet!  The purple was a little bit dry, but only compared to the others.

A sweet potato is such a wonderful, healthy treat.  It so filling, has a ton of fiber and vitamins, and the perfect level of sweetness.  It is no wonder they are a beloved winter treat in Japan.

Miso happy

Since I love to learn things, especially about cooking and homemaking, the park moms always let me know when an interesting class is being offered at one of the local community centers.  A few weeks ago, my friend told me about a miso class.  Miso is one of the staple ingredients of Japanese cuisine.  Along with soy sauce, sake, and mirin, miso is everywhere.  It is a simple mixture of soybeans, fungus, and salt, but it is really so much more than that.

I showed up early for the class because I was really excited.  I've tried to make miso before, but I failed when it got mold several months into the process.  It was so heartbreaking.  I don't know exactly what went wrong last time, but this time I wanted more guidance beyond a book.  The class was taught by an employee of a local miso company.  Koujiya Saburo Uemon is a Nerima institution.  It is the only miso company in Tokyo prefecture that still makes their miso by hand.  It is a real opportunity to be able to learn from a master.

The class started with a speech that I would have loved to have understood.  I knew that I would miss a lot of information, but I'm able to comprehend a ton when I able to get my hands dirty.

After washing our hands, we sprayed everything with alcohol. 

We mixed the salt with the koji (the fungus grown on rice that is used for making miso, soy sauce, and sake) and set it aside for later use.

We were then handed bags of hot, cooked soybeans.  It was really fun to squeeze and smash the beans inside the bag.  Although the beans don't have to be perfectly smooth, they need to be smooshed.  As the class pressed, the smell of peanut butter rose to my nose.  I kept having to ask myself if I was going nuts, because it seem so strange to be smelling peanuts when I was obviously smashing soy beans, but that is what my nose was smelling.

I heard the words "food processor" and "vitamix" as the instructor talked to the class.  So, I asked my friend what he was talking about.  She said "Don't try to do this in your food processor because it will burn up the engine.  The beans are too sticky."   It made me laugh because I have killed more than one food processor in my day. 

Once it was sufficiently smashed, we opened the bag and let some air into it.  After closing it back up with a bubble of air, we shook the bag until the soy bean paste formed into a ball.  The ball was then unceremoniously dumped into a large bucket. 

After pounding it a bit, we added some water and combined the two. 

Once combined, we dumped in the koji and salt mixture.  It was finally time to get our hands dirty.  Well, not really, since we were wearing gloves.  But, we got our hands in there and combined the rest of the ingredients.

Scraping everything out of the bucket, we put the miso into plastic bags to take home.

That was the end of the class.  Next, I have to find a container to put my miso in for the fermenting process.  I will put the miso into something.  I have not decided what, just yet.  Once I pick the container, I will actually throw the miso into it to make sure there isn't any air between the container and the paste.  I will then cover the miso with plastic wrap and stick it into the closet for 6 months.  Yep.  Six long months. 

I will check on it at that time and then stick it back in the closet again for another 3 months.  After percolating for 9 months, we will finally be able to enjoy it. 

When September rolls around, we'll be able to find out if this adventure was a success or a failure.  The pressure is there!  I hope I don't fail again.  I would love to be able to regularly make my own miso.  It feels like a true work of art.  Some people fill canvases.  I fill bellies.  It's just what I do.

A bit of fruit

If you keep your eyes peeled on the streets of Tokyo, periodically you'll discover a fruit parlor.  These fancy and expensive cafes serve designer fruit and desserts.  You can also buy those expensive boxes of fruit intended for fancy gifts that Japan is known for.  When I was a child, I remember seeing news coverage of these fruit parlors and their square watermelons and other unbelievable fruit.  I was completely enthralled to see such fancy fruit.

Some of these shops have been around for a very long time.  They take fruit to a whole new level that Harry & David can only dream of.  Kyobashi Sembikiya has been selling designer fruit since 1881.  It is one of Tokyo's oldest "fruit specialty stores." 

My son adores fruit.  I honestly think if he had to pick one thing to eat the rest of his life, it would be strawberries.  So when we passed the famed fruit parlor on our way to Yoyogi Park, just steps away from Meiji-jingumae <Harajuku> Station's exit 5, I made a mental note that it would be a great place for a treat if the stars aligned. 

I like to spoil my kid.  I admit it.  Whether we are going on special adventures with his interests in mind, or buying a special treat, I love giving him exciting things.  While many parents might hesitate taking their child to a fancy restaurant or café, I jump in with both feet.  I think not only is it a great opportunity to give him something special that we'll both enjoy, but it is also a great opportunity to practice table manners. 

After a fun time at the park, he told me he was hungry and wanted a snack.  I casually asked him if he would like some fruit.  He jumped up and down and responded with an emphatic yes.

We walked back to Kyobashi Sembikiya and asked for a table to two.  My son perused the menu and asked for the biggest dessert they offer.  I laughed and grabbed the menu from him.  I narrowed his choices and he picked a beautiful fruit parfait. 

While we waited for his parfait and my tea, we talked and joked around.  We also watched the herds of people walking up and down the street. 

When it arrived, my son's eyes got really big.  The tiny ball of ice cream and 2 balls of sorbet were covered in a beautiful array of fruit and topped with an orchid.  He could barely wait for me to snap a photo because he was so ready to dig in. 

His first bite produced a groan of happiness.  He was in fruit heaven.  He kindly shared with me and I felt so honored.  It was the best fruit I have ever eaten.  Each bite was incredible, juicy, and the perfect texture. 

We both totally understood why fruit parlors have been in business for over 135 years.  The price was steep - ¥2,160 ($20) for a single parfait - and it was worth every yen.  My tea was also lovely, but it was just a cup of tea. 

Our little parlor excursion was so much fun.  We felt so lucky to be enjoying such a lavish treat.  I couldn't have asked for a better date.  And the fruit just made it that much better.

Buy my stuff

I was pretty young when I visited my grandparents selling clocks and jewelry at flea markets.  My recollection is a bit fuzzy, but snapshots.  I remember the tables and the tents.  I remember the crazy array of things people could buy.  I wanted to look at all the unique little things tucked together in interesting displays. 

Right next to the Earth Garden Winter Festival was the Yoyogi Park Flea Market.  It was a good fit - the earth festival with the selling of used wares.  All of the vendors had their wares laid out on tarps carefully arranged into rows on the ground.  There were a couple clothing racks and one person had stacks of scarves laid out on top of boxes.

There were lots of people perusing and shopping, but it wasn't crowded by any means.  Of course, everyone knows that the serious shoppers are there right when the market opens.  They don't wait for three hours like I did. 

It was fun to see what everyone was selling.  There were lots of pre-loved clothes.  Some were very, very... well, unique.  But mostly, the clothes were American brands with logos and fun patterns.

There were also lots of little knickknacks and trinkets that you expect to see at flea markets. 

Mostly going to this smaller flea market made me want to seek out the bigger and more traditional markets.  It just gave me a small taste of the possibilities.