Rice cake round-up
3rd March 2010
I ate a lot of mochi recently.
DEMACHI FUTABA (出町ふたば)
Mame mochi: The saltiness of the black beans and a trace of it in the dough balance the sweetness of the bean paste filling. Dough: thick. Filling: lots. Mochi: sumo class. If you like mochi, you'll probably like this. If you don't, this is unlikely to make a convert of you.
Price: 160 yen
Where to find: Futaba is located a little way north of the Kawaramachi-Imadegawa intersection, a five-minute walk west of the Demachiyanagi train station. Mame mochi is also available in the food basements of the Isetan at Kyoto Station and the Takashimaya at Shijo-Kawaramachi.
At Isetan, look for a sign that says ふたば. At Takashimaya, search for a stand with a lot of little wooden plaques on the wall. Each plaque, with the name of a shop in Japanese, indicates that the shop's products are available there. This stand also stocks Daikokuya's kama mochi and lots of other nice things.
The Demachiyanagi shop opens from 8.30 to 17.30. Closed on Tuesdays and the last Wednesday of the month.
Tel: 075-231-1658
DAIKOKUYA (大黒屋)
Kama mochi: Soft, so soft you won't believe it's mochi. And the sweetness of the bean paste so brilliantly controlled that you could eat five in one sitting and not feel ill. I speak from experience.
Price: 210 yen for one but you won't be able to stop at one.
Where to find: Takashimaya's food basement. See above entry. You can try going to the shop itself but prepare to get lost. From the Imadegawa-Teramachi intersection, head north. Keep heading north. You'll see a number of temples on your right. When you find the one with 阿弥陀寺 on a wooden signboard, turn left. Having said that, the calligraphy's fading so look for the stone marker in front of the temple with 織田信長 (Oda Nobunaga) carved into it.
If you see this,
you've found Daikokuya. Open from 8.30 to 20.00. Closed on the first and third Wednesday of the month.
Daikokuya's signboard. The shop name refers to Daikoku, a Japanese god of farming, food and good fortune.
Tel: 075-231-1495
JINBADO (神馬堂)
Yaki mochi: A nice change from the usual smoothness of mochi. The toasted sides give some traction as you chew.
Price: 120 yen
Where to find: Opposite the road from Kamigamo Jinja (shrine). Not to be confused with another yaki mochi shop south of the shrine. It's Jinbado if it looks like this.
Open only in the morning. Closed on Wednesdays.
Tel: 075-781-1377
OFUKUKEN (お婦久軒)
Ume mochi: Other mochi combine sweet and salty; this one adds a dash of sour, presumably from the ume. It leaves a floral fragrance even after the last of it is gone. I've been suspicious of flowers in confectionery after an unhappy experience with a lavender cookie but the ume mochi has restored my faith.
Kanko mochi: Dusted with kinako powder and fairy dust. My memory's a little hazy as to what exactly happened when I bit into this. I believe I took the name of the Lord in vain at one point. This mochi's so soft there's almost zero chew. Did I chew? Surely I just swallowed. The softness pulls away to the roughness of the bean skins in the filling, which swoops into sight of sweetness then veers off. Kyoto restraint at its finest.
The kanko (菅公) mochi was named in honour of Sugawara (菅原) no Michizane, a ninth century official at the Kyoto court who was later deified as a god of learning and is enshrined at Kitano Tenmangu, just opposite the shop. He was said to have loved the ume, which explains the ume mochi at Ofukuken.
Price: Kanko mochi and ume mochi both cost 126 yen each.
Where to find: Ofukuken is across the road from Kitano Tenmangu shrine, along Imadegawa-dori. Look for a woman's face on the noren curtain.
Open from 8.30 to 18.30; closed on Wednesdays.
Tel: 075-461-0974
ICHIWA (一和)
Aburi mochi: There are a few universal taste sensations - sweet, salty, gooey, sticky and burnt crunchy bits. Aburi mochi hits all of them. Maybe this is why it's kept Ichiwa in business for more than a thousand years. Ichiwa isn't the only place that sells aburi mochi - there's a rival teashop just across the road. The secret's in the sauce, said Ichiwa's proprietor. What's in it? I asked. White miso, she answered and refused to say any more.
Price: 500 yen for one serving that includes tea. Takeaway starts from 1,500 yen.
Where to find: Get to Imamiya Jinja (Bus 46 from the Kamigamo Jinja goes there) and go in through the main entrance.
Turn right, cross this bridge and pass through the gateway. If you forget all this, just follow the smell of burning charcoal.
You will find two teahouses outside. Ichiwa - or Ichimonjiyawasuke, to give it its full name - is the one on the left.
You can also tell which one is Ichiwa because it has a pine tree growing through the roof.
The lady of the house grills mochi, smiles and calls out "Okoshiyasu!" - Kyoto's softer version of "Irasshaimase" - to passers-by.
Open from 10.00 to 17.00. Closed on Wednesdays.
Tel: 075-492-6852
...
After all that sugar, the welcome salt of nabeyaki udon at a friendly neighbourhood restaurant. In the bowl, together with the tempura vegetables and the seaweed and the egg lightly cooked, was...
...another mochi.
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Hoshinoya Kyoto in review
30th December 2010
Thanks to an invitation from the Hoshinoya group, I was able to squeeze in one more ryokan visit before the end of the year.
Its newest property, Hoshinoya Kyoto, is tucked into the mountains of Arashiyama, an area once favoured by the city's nobles. Today, it is a popular tourist spot, especially during the sakura and autumn foliage seasons.
But what made me say yes to the invitation was the boat. Guests are ferried to the ryokan in a boat that goes up the scenic Hozugawa river. It's not quite the Three Gorges but it does have the advantage of not being dammed up.
The Hoshinoya Kyoto boat landing. Up a flight of stairs nearby is a waiting room that has magazines, coffee, a toilet with the world's smallest sink and is, above all, warm. In winter - and spring, come to think of it - this is important.
The boat pulling up to the ryokan's pier. You can go outside to take photos; presumably, fishing you out of the river if you fall in is all part of the service.
The ride's a leisurely one, giving you the time you need to photograph the sociable ducks, the grave egrets and the tourists floating by in other boats.
November is high season for the ryokan. This shot of the entrance from Hoshinoya shows you why. The inn was fully booked through the momiji season, so I didn't get to see this. Oh well.
On the right, the library and reception. In warmer weather, guests gather by the pond, which has a little stage for musical performances. Beyond the library are the guest cottages.
Accommodation ranges from a single room to a maisonette and every permutation in between. The furnishings also vary widely. The Tani Yukaza room, for instance, is the only one with sunken leg space in its sitting area.
Another room had a tiger - for the Year of the Tiger - mask in the tokonoma alcove: a nice change from the usual hanging scroll.
The wallpaper also changes depending on the bedroom. This kind of paper is hand-printed using wooden blocks, some of them hundreds of years old. I was told that there are only two workshops left in Kyoto still making paper in this way.
But my vote for the Best Furnishing Detail goes to...
...the tatami sofa. It's an answer to this design question: how do you get guests to sit back and relax in the kind of room where leaning against a (paper) wall may dislodge it? Chairs are the obvious answer but the traditional Japanese room is best enjoyed from the perspective of someone sitting on the floor.
So a legless sofa then, with cushions that can be folded out to take a reclining guest. But the weight of such a sofa would pulverise the tatami. Hence, the hollow back and arm rests.
Apparently, guests have asked where they can get one of their own, only to be told that the sofas were commissioned for the inn and are not commercially available. Stuff like that could almost ruin a holiday.
But the nice people at the ryokan restaurant might be able to distract you with a soba-making demonstration.
At the restaurant, you can order a set meal or just a few dishes from the menu - a departure from usual ryokan practice, which is to feed the guest until he keels over on the tatami. And yes, soba is on the menu.
As is a vinegary crab salad.
If you opt to skip dessert, there may just be a few green tea wafers left in the library.
It was the first time I'd seen green tea wafers filled with white chocolate. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to take more than one. Or was it two?
If the wafers run out, I guess you could always admire the design of the coffeecup saucers.
There's also lots to see outside. Like the details in the lamps.
Or how the stone paths leading to the guest rooms are all different. And next to the stone, a moon is growing.
On the other side of the river that flows by the ryokan, an old train passes now and then.
And don't forget to enjoy the wood when you bend to switch off the light on your way out.
30th December 2010
Thanks to an invitation from the Hoshinoya group, I was able to squeeze in one more ryokan visit before the end of the year.
Its newest property, Hoshinoya Kyoto, is tucked into the mountains of Arashiyama, an area once favoured by the city's nobles. Today, it is a popular tourist spot, especially during the sakura and autumn foliage seasons.
But what made me say yes to the invitation was the boat. Guests are ferried to the ryokan in a boat that goes up the scenic Hozugawa river. It's not quite the Three Gorges but it does have the advantage of not being dammed up.
The Hoshinoya Kyoto boat landing. Up a flight of stairs nearby is a waiting room that has magazines, coffee, a toilet with the world's smallest sink and is, above all, warm. In winter - and spring, come to think of it - this is important.
The boat pulling up to the ryokan's pier. You can go outside to take photos; presumably, fishing you out of the river if you fall in is all part of the service.
The ride's a leisurely one, giving you the time you need to photograph the sociable ducks, the grave egrets and the tourists floating by in other boats.
November is high season for the ryokan. This shot of the entrance from Hoshinoya shows you why. The inn was fully booked through the momiji season, so I didn't get to see this. Oh well.
On the right, the library and reception. In warmer weather, guests gather by the pond, which has a little stage for musical performances. Beyond the library are the guest cottages.
Accommodation ranges from a single room to a maisonette and every permutation in between. The furnishings also vary widely. The Tani Yukaza room, for instance, is the only one with sunken leg space in its sitting area.
Another room had a tiger - for the Year of the Tiger - mask in the tokonoma alcove: a nice change from the usual hanging scroll.
The wallpaper also changes depending on the bedroom. This kind of paper is hand-printed using wooden blocks, some of them hundreds of years old. I was told that there are only two workshops left in Kyoto still making paper in this way.
But my vote for the Best Furnishing Detail goes to...
...the tatami sofa. It's an answer to this design question: how do you get guests to sit back and relax in the kind of room where leaning against a (paper) wall may dislodge it? Chairs are the obvious answer but the traditional Japanese room is best enjoyed from the perspective of someone sitting on the floor.
So a legless sofa then, with cushions that can be folded out to take a reclining guest. But the weight of such a sofa would pulverise the tatami. Hence, the hollow back and arm rests.
Apparently, guests have asked where they can get one of their own, only to be told that the sofas were commissioned for the inn and are not commercially available. Stuff like that could almost ruin a holiday.
But the nice people at the ryokan restaurant might be able to distract you with a soba-making demonstration.
At the restaurant, you can order a set meal or just a few dishes from the menu - a departure from usual ryokan practice, which is to feed the guest until he keels over on the tatami. And yes, soba is on the menu.
As is a vinegary crab salad.
If you opt to skip dessert, there may just be a few green tea wafers left in the library.
It was the first time I'd seen green tea wafers filled with white chocolate. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to take more than one. Or was it two?
If the wafers run out, I guess you could always admire the design of the coffeecup saucers.
There's also lots to see outside. Like the details in the lamps.
Or how the stone paths leading to the guest rooms are all different. And next to the stone, a moon is growing.
On the other side of the river that flows by the ryokan, an old train passes now and then.
And don't forget to enjoy the wood when you bend to switch off the light on your way out.
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Ugenta in review
27th April 2010
A high-end ryokan is theatre. Not the kind with heavy curtains and painted backdrops but tiny stages of tatami, paper lamps and pocket gardens. The woman in kimono who greets you is an actress; you will meet the rest of the cast when they serve you dinner in your room or drive you to the station when you leave.
You will have a better view than even someone sitting in the most expensive seats in the theatre. And you can touch the props - lacquerware, pottery painted or rough, the sprig of flowers on your dinner tray.
Total theatre. When it all comes together, you wonder why anyone visiting Japan would want to stay in a hotel.
Then you look at the prices and - oh, well.
So it's a hobby I can indulge in only about once a year.
This year, it's Ugenta, an inn that accepts no more than two parties a night. The ryokan can be reached by taking a train from Demachiyanagi station to the mountain village of Kibune (left) - about 30 minutes - and then a bus. If you give the Ugenta staff enough notice, they'll pick you up at the station.
But enough talking. On with the pictures!
Dinner theatre:
Zensai (appetiser). Can you see the sakura design on the paper?
Suimono course: soft-shelled turtle soup. You pour it out into the lid, adding a little ginger seasoning from the white pot, and drink. Chicken-soup comforting if you don't add the ginger, and a fire edge if you do. My favourite of the whole meal - and so good I almost got over the guilt of eating turtle.
(Forgot to take photos of the sashimi course. The sake must have been kicking in around about here.)
Yakimono: grilled Kyoto beef. The beans are issunmame.
Conger eel sushi. Not otah.
Young bamboo and shirauo (白魚) - the white, fish-like shadow.
Eat your tentacles; they're good for you. Hotaru ika, if you're interested. Also akagai, nanohana and a kind of daikon called moriguchi. This is the sunomono course, which sounds more appetising than "vinegared things".
Rice with young bamboo and a sprig of kinome.
When you hit the carbs course in kaiseki, the curtain's about to come down. I'm usually down for the count by this part of the meal because little dishes over a long stretch of time take up a surprising amount of space inside.
But the woman serving us offered to get the kitchen staff to turn the rice we didn't eat into onigiri so we could have it later if we got hungry. She returned with the riceballs wrapped and accompanied by pickles and a dish of chirimen (fish even tinier than ikan bilis) flavoured with sansho peppercorn.
This...this is service.
Dessert. It looks simple - strawberries, oranges and jelly - but, for some reason, it worked so well I ate the mint in shock.
But what about the rest of the ryokan i.e. the bits you can't eat? You can get a good idea of the room layouts from the inn's website though they aren't rooms so much as small maisonettes (maisonettette?). (If you're viewing this at work, be advised that the top page of the Ugenta site comes with a soundtrack.)
You can breathe out here. Space inside and the mountains at your window. Leave the balcony door ajar and you'll hear the stream beside the inn.
And the wood!
Furniture by George Nakashima. Beer glasses live inside this cabinet. We should all be so lucky.
Look at the right knob!
And the left!
The pictures of the other cabinet knobs are too blurry to be posted. It's never a good idea to take pictures when your hands are shaking.
If you like space, wood and mountain valleys, Ugenta may be the ryokan for you. The food may not have been the most exciting kaiseki I've encountered but it was solidly executed with a few excellent touches. Like the guilt-removing turtle soup.
And when I woke up in the middle of the night - I had the upstairs room, with the computer and calligraphy set - this was outside my window.
I put the camera on the table in front of the window then took the shot. My hands were shaking again.
27th April 2010
A high-end ryokan is theatre. Not the kind with heavy curtains and painted backdrops but tiny stages of tatami, paper lamps and pocket gardens. The woman in kimono who greets you is an actress; you will meet the rest of the cast when they serve you dinner in your room or drive you to the station when you leave.
You will have a better view than even someone sitting in the most expensive seats in the theatre. And you can touch the props - lacquerware, pottery painted or rough, the sprig of flowers on your dinner tray.
Total theatre. When it all comes together, you wonder why anyone visiting Japan would want to stay in a hotel.
Then you look at the prices and - oh, well.
So it's a hobby I can indulge in only about once a year.
This year, it's Ugenta, an inn that accepts no more than two parties a night. The ryokan can be reached by taking a train from Demachiyanagi station to the mountain village of Kibune (left) - about 30 minutes - and then a bus. If you give the Ugenta staff enough notice, they'll pick you up at the station.
But enough talking. On with the pictures!
Dinner theatre:
Zensai (appetiser). Can you see the sakura design on the paper?
Suimono course: soft-shelled turtle soup. You pour it out into the lid, adding a little ginger seasoning from the white pot, and drink. Chicken-soup comforting if you don't add the ginger, and a fire edge if you do. My favourite of the whole meal - and so good I almost got over the guilt of eating turtle.
(Forgot to take photos of the sashimi course. The sake must have been kicking in around about here.)
Yakimono: grilled Kyoto beef. The beans are issunmame.
Conger eel sushi. Not otah.
Young bamboo and shirauo (白魚) - the white, fish-like shadow.
Eat your tentacles; they're good for you. Hotaru ika, if you're interested. Also akagai, nanohana and a kind of daikon called moriguchi. This is the sunomono course, which sounds more appetising than "vinegared things".
Rice with young bamboo and a sprig of kinome.
When you hit the carbs course in kaiseki, the curtain's about to come down. I'm usually down for the count by this part of the meal because little dishes over a long stretch of time take up a surprising amount of space inside.
But the woman serving us offered to get the kitchen staff to turn the rice we didn't eat into onigiri so we could have it later if we got hungry. She returned with the riceballs wrapped and accompanied by pickles and a dish of chirimen (fish even tinier than ikan bilis) flavoured with sansho peppercorn.
This...this is service.
Dessert. It looks simple - strawberries, oranges and jelly - but, for some reason, it worked so well I ate the mint in shock.
But what about the rest of the ryokan i.e. the bits you can't eat? You can get a good idea of the room layouts from the inn's website though they aren't rooms so much as small maisonettes (maisonettette?). (If you're viewing this at work, be advised that the top page of the Ugenta site comes with a soundtrack.)
You can breathe out here. Space inside and the mountains at your window. Leave the balcony door ajar and you'll hear the stream beside the inn.
And the wood!
Furniture by George Nakashima. Beer glasses live inside this cabinet. We should all be so lucky.
Look at the right knob!
And the left!
The pictures of the other cabinet knobs are too blurry to be posted. It's never a good idea to take pictures when your hands are shaking.
If you like space, wood and mountain valleys, Ugenta may be the ryokan for you. The food may not have been the most exciting kaiseki I've encountered but it was solidly executed with a few excellent touches. Like the guilt-removing turtle soup.
And when I woke up in the middle of the night - I had the upstairs room, with the computer and calligraphy set - this was outside my window.
I put the camera on the table in front of the window then took the shot. My hands were shaking again.
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