Schrödinger’s Jap

“Drive to the forest in a Japanese car,
The smell of rubber on country tar”
- John Lydon, “Poptones”

Stepping into the Nissan Dayz in a hidden parking lot of Nagoya, our hybrid chariot for the next few days, I smiled and shook my head that a ridiculous existence has become routine. I slung my bag on the counter and filled out the fine print. Not getting the insurance just makes it more exciting.

I’ve begun to inhabit that dreaded space between here and there. You see them on the flight. Homesick hapas, born into jetlag. Business oyaji, wrinkled and tired eyes. Crushing two Asahi before takeoff. The flight is ours. The rest are spectators. I was sandwiched in the center row between a Japanese Brazilian and her white husband. She quickly sussed me out and offered me a mikan, an offer I couldn’t refuse.

We exchanged the usual family lore and small talk and the excitement of being Japanese in the Southwest. We talked about Picanha, the Brazilian steakhouse my dad and I discovered when he dad forced me to go with him to the Sears in Northeast Philly for a deal on a TV. I was content to leave it there, but because she smelled unemployment on me and asked if I had a job, I was forced to tell her about the restaurant that occupies much of my time.

“It must take a lot of courage to open your own place.”

I don’t know I guess.

“Sir, would you like a drink?”

Yes, please.

I stretched my legs and put on Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, a coming-of-age tale about a California boy who heads to Japan for no reason whatsoever. It’s a ritual to hit a teenage boy with a massive trans-Pacific move that upends his entire world. Character building. Of course the movie made no sense but that early 2000s Tokyo aesthetic is kind of legendary.

My grandmother in her day was known as one of the three beauties of Azabujuban, a neighborhood in Tokyo where the family owned a little shop. When Jaimie asked if we should change our spartan accomodations in Roppongi to fancier digs in Azabu, I said of course. Forget everything I said about business hotels. My lower back is now priceless to me. Bring on the ritz. Summon my horsehair bed. We’re back.

There was a nice grocery store in a plaza downstairs. A cheese cave and a big leg of Iberico ham hanging in the window. A massive cold case of ready-to-eat sashimi. There was also an oden stand and a nukazuke bar, a sign that old Japan can also be a novel luxury.

Every morning we had coffee at a little cafe there and sat watching the morning commute. The complex was around the corner from the British School in Tokyo, a private international school similar to the one I attended in Yokohama. Every morning I saw the young hapas in their little uniforms holding hands with their mothers down the escalator. Stopping at the cafe and having a pastry before school. We nodded to one another. A smile from mom. I raised my fist in solidarity. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I was once that young lad, Tokyo drifting through life. You end up where you start, back at the beginning.

I called Trinity from the courtyard of the hotel. How’s everything? Good! Good.

What a legend. But I musn’t tell her just yet. She probably already knows.

I like this new and improved, Jeffreyless Ozu. I was combing through hi-fi gear in Yodobashi, digging through crates in Meguro. When I was a kid it was minidiscs, now it’s vinyl again. Back at the beginning. The post-punk selection was extremely strong and I came back through LAX with my arm crooked with vinyl.

We returned from our two week hiatus to a proper dinner crowd. What a cast of characters. What a crew. The vibe that dare not speak its name. Here and there and back again. “Last time I made bail so fast my soup was still warm.”

A hug from Silke. “So, how was your trip?”

What trip?

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Niigata senbei
Japanese rice crackers, choice of black pepper, uni, squid, nori, or a mix of all 4

temaki
choice of blue crab, maguro, kanpachi namerou, or ikura

sesame miso bagna fredda
local raw vegetables with an umami-rich anchovy dip

hiyashi salad
local lettuces, radish, cucumber, sesame ginger dressing

tsukune
chicken meatball patties seasoned with ginger, scallion, & miso

seafood ojiya
rich fish stock rice porridge with miso, scallops, & aonori

maguro yukke
tartare of blue fin tuna, garlic, sesame oil, shoyu, aonori, over rice

hamachi bento
raw yellowtail with yuzu hot sauce, over Japanese rice with hiyashi salad and pickles

black cod saikyo yaki bento
roasted black cod marinated in miso over Japanese rice, hiyashi salad & pickles

maguro bento
raw bluefin tuna over sushi rice with hiyashi salad, pickles

chirashi
raw kinmedai, maguro, saba, shima aji, scallop, tai, ikura, uni over sushi rice*

basque cheesecake