A few minutes ago, I went outside and tested my fancy new eclipse-viewing glasses. Forty-eight hours from now, on the morning of May 21, I’ll be among millions of people in Japan and the western United States taking the rare opportunity to view a “kinkan nisshoku,” or “annular eclipse.”

An annular eclipse is one that occurs when the moon passes between the Earth and the sun at a point in the moon’s orbit when it is far from the Earth and thus appears relatively small – the exact opposite of the effect seen in the recent “supermoon.” In an annular eclipse, this small moon appears superimposed in front of the sun rather than completely blocking it out. The visible portions of the sun form a fiery ring around the moon’s black silhouette.

One positive effect of this event is that it has expanded my vocabulary in two languages. The English word “annular,” which comes from Latin via French, means “ring-shaped.” The Japanese term is even more straightforward and easy to remember, as it is written with a string of kanji characters that literally mean “gold-ring sun-eating.”

The moon’s shadow will fall across a large swath of the Earth, but the full annular effect will be visible only in a narrow band that goes through nearly all of Japan’s major cities (what luck!) Monday morning before moving out to sea in a long arc across the northern Pacific Ocean, where it will slip back to late Sunday as it crosses the International Date Line, after which it will come ashore in northern California, pass over Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon, and finally fade out over the border of Texas and New Mexico.

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New Rice Cooker Chronicles submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

More Bread Revolution and Guide to Flour.

“Pita pockets” didn’t excite me as a kid. Toted as a kid-friendly food, the charm of stuffing sandwich fillings into a bread with a pocket was lost on me. I rediscovered pita–fresh pita–in university at Middle-Eastern diners and as (store-bought) hummus became more mainstream. In Japan, I sometimes bought stacks of pita from the import store, but after preparing for an international cooking lesson, I discovered pita are really simple to make, and more importantly, make a great bread substitute for proper sandwiches in Japan. Save the trip to the import store for chickpeas–you don’t even need to make hummus to go with it!*

Click HERE for more.

New Rice Cooker Chronicles submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

Early May means fresh bamboo shoots are in season again here in Ishikawa, and I received not one but three lovely shoots from my friends and coworkers this year! 2012 is apparently a bumper year for bamboo in the forests and in my kitchen.

Whether you purchased or received fresh bamboo, one large shoot can seem like a lot to cook up. The best English-language resource for cooking bamboo is, in my opinion, Makiko Itoh’s Just Hungry. The reason why I have only one bamboo recipe on this site is because I always use hers! What I do have to offer is how to cook raw bamboo, my master list of bamboo recipes, comments, and my own photos. Enjoy!

Click HERE for more.

New Rice Cooker Chronicles submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

More Bread Revolution and Guide to Flour.

TexMex/Southwestern/Mexican foods were something I purchased from the grocery or at restaurants in the US, missed sorely in Japan, and was convinced I couldn’t make it myself. If I found salsa in a jar, I couldn’t find chips, so what was the point? Avocados weren’t something I could get my town easily, and forget cilantro or jalapeños. I gave up on my dream of enjoying these foods in Japan, but luckily Cheruko didn’t, and she put together a fantastic fajita spread for an international cooking lesson.

Click HERE for more.

Cherry blossoms are blooming, depending on where you are in Japan, and various other types of trees and flowers are starting to show their spring colors. Graduation ceremonies are being held (or have already happened) all over Japan, as one year ends and another is about to begin.

Then there’s the pollen. Hay fever season in Japan has also arrived. And if you have allergies, it might have already hit you hard (or will…). How do you get through allergy season in Japan? You’ll find some ideas below.

A few words to know:

花粉症　 かふんしょう     kafunshou        hay fever
花粉　　 かふん　　         kafun                  pollen
アレルギー　　　　          arerugii              allergy

Now, a few ideas to help you survive hay fever season in Japan:

1. Wear a mask outside. Even if you didn’t wear one in your home country, “do as the locals do” or “when in Rome…” or something like that. I personally can’t stand wearing them, but I know some people who now like wearing them.

2. Use a mask spray. Apparently if you spray your mask with this stuff it makes the mask more effective at keeping unwanted particles out.

3. Try a “nose mask” – (pictured below) It’s basically something that you attach to the underside of your nose and each side goes in a nostril. It acts as a filter for pollen and other airborne particles.

4. Refill those allergy medicine prescriptions. It is possible to get Claritin, Allegra, Zyrtec and Flonase (フルナーズ) in Japan – consult a doctor about possibilities. You could also try contacting Japan Healthcare Info if you’re not sure where to look or who to ask. Some possible prescription non-drowsy or “mostly” non-drowsy meds in Japan include: Allegra (アレグラ), Claritin (クラリチン), Alesion (アレジオン), エバステル, Talion (タリオン), and Zyrtec (ジルテック). [Source]

You can get some over-the-counter anti-allergy medication, but most, if not all, are drowsy, and probably not as effective as those you can get by prescription. (Let us know, though, if you’ve found something that works well and isn’t too sleep-inducing). Mmmfruit mentioned Zaditen as an option. David and I have both used Stonarhini (ストナリニ), and while David didn’t get too drowsy, I felt like I had just taken a Benadryl (it knocked me out for hours). It claims to use less of the ingredients that make you drowsy, but it may be best to try it on a day you don’t have to go out and do anything, just to see how your body reacts first. — CLICK HERE to read 11 more ways to defeat hay fever this year.

When I first came to Japan, attempting to read food labels and understand what things were and what was IN what I was buying and eating was a huge obstacle. I could read hiragana, katakana and some kanji, but the majority of the food labels were confusing and I spent extensive amounts of time at the supermarket, smartphone in hand with a Japanese-English dictionary open, trying to decipher ingredients and information. I’d also use the smartphone app, ShinKanji, to search for various kanji and words I couldn’t read.

The work paid off, and though now I can’t read every single Japanese word without consulting a J-E dictionary or looking up certain kanji, I can usually quickly scan most labels to find what I want to know.

A guide to reading food labels in Japan is also one of the most popular post topic requests I’ve received. It’s something most of us struggle with when we first arrive, and I’d imagine even some of those who are fluent may not have known every word or kanji at first. Deciphering Japanese food labels, the entirety of them anyway, isn’t particularly easy, but I’ve attempted to break them down for you here. Note that I have not covered various ingredients aside from common allergens, as that’s something to cover in a separate post (or more than one). This one is already long!

I should note that food labels in Japan aren’t always consistent, as you’ll see below, and although, for example, you’ll usually see information about the total calories, protein, fat, carbohydrates and similar main nutrients, you won’t always see much about other minerals or vitamins (though things like fortified cereals, breads, etc., often list these).

I’ve also tried to include a variety of words you’ll see, but some terms/phrases are worded slightly different, although the meaning is generally the same, e.g., “賞味期限” and “消費期限” both mean “best before; best eaten by” or the expiration date.

Also note that throughout the post I have not broken down kanji and words as I normally do – instead, the vocabulary charts break them down, so please reference the charts for a breakdown. (You can also use the “find” feature on your browser and copy/paste a word you want to see in the chart to find it quickly.)

So let’s get on with it: how do you read food labels in Japan?

– CLICK HERE  for the following:

Japanese Food Label Vocabulary Chart
Japanese Nutritional Information Vocabulary Chart
How to Understand the Nutritional Information List on a Food Label
How to Understand the Rest of the Food Label
How to Read Food Labels on Imported Goods
Meat and Seafood Labels
Fruit and Vegetable Labels
Allergy Information on Food Labels

New submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

Orange sweet potatoes, ubiquitous in the US, are often nowhere to be found in Ishikawa. Depending on where you are in the prefecture, you can usually locate some in one brief part of late winter in the local-vegetable section of the grocery store with the Noto- and Kaga Yasai (heirloom vegetables from Noto  [northern Ishikawa] and Kaga [central-southern Ishikawa]). This March,  I found some “Kabocha Imo” (“kabocha squash potato,” かぼちゃ芋), a Noto Yasai, at Marue, and I also found a large bag of annôimo (安 納芋) in the basement grocery stores in the department store M’ZA. Orange sweet potatoes are not as cheap as I remember them being back home during my student days, but they’re every bit as delicious.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

New submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

I’ve noticed an increased interest by foreign bloggers and media regarding Japan’s (read: Tokyo, Kyoto) street food culture in the last month, and as I was at a large food fair in Kanazawa, I figured it was time to add my comments and photos to the table.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

Every food blogger with an interest in Japanese food is required by law to have a post on okonomiyaki, so today, I’m going to show you how to make my favorite version, which is stuffed with my favorite vegetable, kabocha squash.

Okonomiyaki (henceforth not italicized) is sometimes described as a savory pancake or as a Japanese pizza. What it actually entails is a batter made mainly of flour, egg, water, and baking powder, which is mixed with finely chopped cabbage and seasonings. To this batter, one adds meat or vegetable “toppings” (hence the pizza comparison) to one’s liking (hence the name, which could be translated as the “As You Like It Cooked Item”). This mixture is cooked in a frying pan or on a griddle and topped with okonomi sauce, mayonnaise, nori (seaweed), and bonito flakes.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

Ishikawa is a good source of locally-raised pork, which I discovered when I set out to make today’s recipe. Fava beans, sora mame（空豆), are all over Kanazawa right now (though my vegetable almanac says they are a late spring bean), and they really compliment the sweet onions and spicy pork in this stir-fry.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

When I visited Shirakawa-go over the long weekend in January, I found Hîragi, a cute restaurant along the snow-covered the vehicle-access road to the lookout point in Ogimachi, Shirakawa-go. I was intrigued, of course, because one of my favorite kanji is 柊 (hîragi), holly, because the radicals mean tree-winter. What sealed the deal was the menu: I wanted to introduce my friends to hôba miso yaki（朴葉味噌焼き), and they wanted to try Hida beef (飛騨牛).

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

For their 28th annual KidFilm Festival, USA Film Festival paid tribute to Studio Ghibli by screening 10 of its films, plus Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind which was made before the studio’s founding. Since The Secret World of Arrietty was sold out, I decided to catch Pom Poko with some friends. I had heard some odd things about the film and wasn’t sure what to expect.

Pom Poko , directed by Isao Takahata (Grave of the Fireflies), revolves around a group of tanuki, or Japanese raccoon dogs (incorrectly called “racoons” in the dub), who have banded together to face the transformation of their forest in Tama Hills into a suburban neighborhood. They cook up various ideas to reclaim their homes, ranging from sabotaging construction sites to tracking down legendary tanuki for assistance. Eventually the fun-loving tanuki have to come to terms with the harsh reality and learn to adapt to the changes around them.

The tanuki in the film appear in various forms: animal, mythical creature, and cartoon. In the presence of humans, they look much like their real-life counterparts. Amongst one another, they assume anthropomorphic forms with personality traits based on the lazy shape-shifting tricksters of Japanese folklore. When they get carried away with their emotions and behave ridiculously, they become even less realistic with their appearance based on characters of manga artist Shigeru Sugiura. The audience gets to see the tanuki in all its forms: animal, myth, and cartoon.

Click here to read the rest of the review.

After several trips to the brewpub Beer Belly and to the actual Minoh Brewery, it’s about time I got around to reviewing my absolute favorite beer in Japan: Minoh Beer (箕面ビール), which operates from Minoh, Osaka. Readers of my blog know that I love craft beers, and also that finding a really good dark beer in Japan is a huge challenge.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

So you’ve prepared your home in Japan as best you can for winter and you’ve got a heater or two, or a kotatsu, to keep you warm. What else can you do to survive the winter in Japan, especially with the continued emphasis on energy conservation?

1. Carry “kairo” (カイロ). Small body (typically hand) warmers. The disposable kind are the ones you open and shake up and typically last a few hours. Some can be placed in your shoes, around your ankles, around your waist or even around your wrists. Here are a few examples.

I’ve also noticed a trend of “eco-kairo” (エコカイロ) this year. The eco-kind vary, but some are filled with gel and you heat them in the microwave. Some are battery-powered (I’m not sure exactly how that is very “eco” though, unless they’re solar-charged, but I suppose it is less wasteful to some degree).

Some examples of “eco kairo” with cute covers (found at Loft):

2. Use a lap blanket. Whether at work or home, these smaller blankets are good to have on hand. Look for ひざかけ (膝掛け).

3. Or a space blanket. They aren’t just the shiny, futuristic looking sheets anymore (though you can get those too). These kind are fabric-covered. Look for スペースケット.

4. Or an electric blanket. Look for 電気毛布 (でんきもうふ, denkimoufu).

5. Use a hot water bottle (湯たんぽ, ゆたんぽ). Especially good for cold feet.

6. Eat hot dishes. Like Nabe. Curry. Ramen. Or any other hot meal. What’s your favorite?

7. Drink lots of hot tea, especially if your workplace provides it for free.

8. Hot drinks. Remember that many vending machines and conveniences stores have a section for “hot drinks” (usually have a red label underneath and say あったかい or “hot drink” while the cold ones have a blue label, and yes, the vending machines that offer them do change over from summer).

When I first arrived in Japan I had no idea you could buy a hot beverage from a vending machine, and when I chose (cold) tea, thinking I was just choosing regular tea from a vending machine, the person I was with looked at me in complete shock.

“Don’t you want a hot drink?” she asked.

“What? There’s hot drinks?”

“Yes.” She points to the red label, “These are hot.” The look accompanying this was more or less, “how did you miss that…”

Not sure if it’s just me, but I never really came across a vending machine in the US with hot drinks aside the dispenser types at some schools or hospitals, etc. Who needs a vending machine with a coffee shop on every street corner? I am from Seattle after all.

9. Heat Tech from Uniqlo. What you would call long underwear. If not from Uniqlo, wool or silk are also great materials (and yes, you can get non-itchy, lightweight wool base layers – merino wool is one of those). If you’re prone to being cold like I am, you’ll be extra thankful for that base layer!

10. Layer. Outer layer. While you’re shopping for long underwear, do yourself a favor and get a warm winter coat. I recommend anything with down. Uniqlo and Muji have them, but here’s a secret, Sierra Trading Post often has crazy discounts on down jackets. (No, they didn’t pay me to say that – I wish). Be careful if you want anything with fur trim though, as customs might get you when you have it shipped here directly.

CLICK HERE to read the other 14 ways.

New submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

*****

Broccoli Lover Learns to BBQ

Part 1

by Clara Solomon (CIR, Nichinan-cho, Tottori-ken; 1999-2001), the Director of Counseling & Career Development at the Office of Career Services at New York University School of Law. She previously worked for the Japan External Trade Organization, specializing in trade relations between Japan and Latin America.  She lives in Queens with her husband and twin daughters.

Many of my experiences in Japan are tied up in the experience of food and cooking. Sure, I have my fill of the standard repertoire of “how many weird things will the American try?” My favorite of those is the night I was out at a new inn in my town, one that specialized in fresh, local food, with a “high end rustic” slant. So, I’m out with some co-workers enjoying a truly delicious meal, when they put a plate of glistening, dark red sashimi before me and say “to-rai, to-rai” (try, try). I wasn’t quite sure what this fish was, it was darker red than any tuna I’d ever seen, so dark it was almost purple, or black. There were thick veins of white fatty meat running through each piece – it almost looked like raw beef, though I could tell from the smell and texture that it was fish. “What is this?” I innocently asked, knowing full well that they wouldn’t tell me until I ate it. This game was a favorite of my colleagues, and they again said “to-rai.” So, I tried it. The minute I popped the full piece in my mouth, the entire table burst out with giggles and choruses of “Greeenpeesu! Greenpeesu!” Yes, Greenpeace. Turns out, I was eating endangered whale, the fishing and eating of which Japan has long been at odds with environmental groups like Greenpeace over (not to mention UN conventions, and the opinion of much of the rest of the world, minus Norway and the Inuit). How was it, you ask? Honestly, not that memorable. For one, it was extremely cold, indicating that it had probably been frozen and shipped to my town from somewhere further south (so much for eating local). For two, I think I would have rather had a piece of fatty tuna, whose rich, buttery flavor far outshone this piece of whale.

I could go on for pages regaling you with stories about the strange things I was given to eat, and the strange situations in which I found myself eating them (wild boar on live TV, anyone?). But, when I think back to the essence of my eating, drinking and cooking in Japan, those are only the warm up acts, the comedy routines that politicians put into the beginning of their stump speeches to play to the base and entice the crowds to stick around for the meat and potatoes (not that I had a lot of meat and potatoes in Japan…). My story of food in Japan is one of cooking and sharing, and gaining not only friends, but also self confidence in the process. You see, I lived in a small town of about 6,000 people nestled in the mountains of Western Honshu. While the town had a sprinkling of ramen shops, bars, and the above-mentioned high-end inn, my choices for eating out were, in actuality, pretty limited.

Fortunately, I had always enjoyed cooking, and had the foresight to ship myself a copy of Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything, so I was prepared to cook, well, everything. Or, so I thought. But this was, after all, my first time actually living alone and really fending for myself. And boy was I living alone, my JET home institution had graciously arranged for me a 3-bedroom, two-story house, equipped with a fully planted garden and a view of a rice paddy out of my bedroom window. A native of the NYC metro-area, I had never seen a potato plant until someone came in from wandering around my garden at one of my infamous yaki-niku barbecue parties holding a fistful of potatoes that he had apparently pulled up right outside my back door – who knew? We washed and boiled them and had a lovely potato salad with our bbq.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. In the first day that I arrived in my little town in Japan, I hadn’t quite envisioned yaki-niku parties on my veranda. Really, I hadn’t even registered that I had a veranda big enough for a barbecue grill. My supervisor and the local junior high English teacher, Naomi-sensei, met me at the airport, dropped my bags off at my new house, and took me right to the grocery store to buy some food. I was still reeling from the hour-long drive home from the airport, where we went deeper and deeper into the mountains, and further and further from the things I generally took for granted, like street lights.

As we drove into the little valley, and I saw my town nestled along the banks of the Hino River for the first time, I’d love to be able to say that I was instantly smitten, charmed by the small-town feel, the sun glinting off the river, the old ladies chatting in the streets, and the children catching dragonflies in the breeze. In fact, however, I was struggling to hold down a mounting wave of panic. I mean, I was born in Brooklyn for goodness sake. Sure, I’d spent summers on my grandparents’ farm in Maine, and had gone on some camping trips in the back-woods of Minnesota, but those were vacations, not long-term living arrangements.

So I was blinking back tears as I stepped into the grocery store with Naomi-sensei. At least the town had a grocery store, I thought to myself. Naomi-sensei was standing by my side as I perused the aisles of the Paseo for the fist time that day. I’d never had someone watch me shop for groceries before, and I was instantly conscious that I should be buying things that made me look like the responsible adult I was trying to pass myself off to be. Right. Well, responsible people eat vegetables, so I picked up some broccoli. At a loss for where to go from there, I pushed my mini-cart aimlessly around the store, and Naomi-sensei gently guided me towards the rice display. Right, in Japan, we eat rice – good thing I didn’t go for the bread aisle, or I would have never heard the end of it when the junior high English class got to the “Which do you like, rice or bread?” section of the textbook.

I don’t remember much of the rest of that shopping trip, but when I went to try to make myself dinner that night, I discovered that I had bought only four things: milk, eggs, rice, and broccoli. Broccoli omelets were my sole sustenance until I worked up the nerve to go back to Paseo for some reinforcements. By that time, however, I had already earned a reputation as Ms. Broccoli. Even two years later, after I had hosted countless dinner parties, and even taught some cooking classes at the local community center, people would stop my in the street or the store, and say “Ah, Kurara-san, I heard you like broccoli!” (Better than “I heard you like Doritos” or “I heard you like Colt 45,” I suppose, but still a strange thing to be confronted with on a regular basis.)

Stay tuned for Part 2!

桃栗三年柿八年 (momo kuri sannnen kaki hachinen): it takes time to reap the fruit of one’s actions

(lit. [It takes] three years for [planted] peach and chestnut trees, eight for persimmons [to bear fruit]) (ことわざ学習室）

In late autumn and early winter (mid-Nov. to New Year), Omicho Market is awash in reds and oranges: strawberries, crabs, mikan, and persimmons. Before I moved to Japan, I had never seen a persimmon, though they seem to be available in California. There are two main varieties available in Japan: non-astringent (amagaki, 甘柿) and astringent (shibugaki, 渋柿). Fuyu (富有), the tomato-shaped variety, are a variety of sweet persimmon; they are dull orange, firm, and ready to eat when they are sold. The human-heart-shaped Hachiya (蜂屋), on the other hand, is very astringent until the skin turns reddish and the insides turn to jelly.*

I tend to eat Fuyu persimmons plain, but I was inspired by The Food Librarian‘s “Fuyu Persimmon Bundt” to try something new.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

Matt Leichter (matt [dot] leichter [at] gmail [dot] com) (Saitama-ken 2003-05) is a renegade attorney who plays by his own rules.  He operates a think tank of one, The Law School Tuition Bubble, where he archives, chronicles, and analyzes the rising cost and declining value of legal education in the United States.

On December 5, the American Lawyer (aka the AmLaw Daily) published Leichter’s most recent article, “Law School Debt Bubble, Part II: Data Show Feds Will Lend $54.3 Billion to U.S. Law Schools by 2020,” in which he uses American Bar Association data to project the exponential growth of law school debt in contrast to the small number of new lawyer jobs in the U.S.

Despite my oft-mentioned love of turkey, I had actually never cooked one until this year. In between being a super serious high-school student buried in a stack of books during the holidays and being a super-serious undergrad/grad student visiting from out of state, still buried in a stack of books and often rushing to get back home in time for holiday meals, I somehow seemed to have missed participating in the time-honored ritual of roasting a whole bird. This year marked my third consecutive Thanksgiving missed because I live in Japan, so rather than cry over my twitter feed of satisfied turkey-eaters in the US, I decided that my upgraded oven range was going to good use this year: we would host Thanksgiving, and, moreover, we would cook the turkey.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.

Matt Leichter (matt [dot] leichter [at] gmail [dot] com) (Saitama-ken 2003-05) is a renegade attorney who plays by his own rules.  He operates a think tank of one, The Law School Tuition Bubble, where he archives, chronicles, and analyzes the rising cost and declining value of legal education in the United States.

On November 22, the American Lawyer (aka the AmLaw Daily) published Leichter’s most recent article, “Law School Debt Bubble: Aggregate Law School Grad Debt Grew $475 Million Between 2008 and 2010,” in which he uses U.S. News and World Report and American Bar Association data to illustrate the ever-increasing growth in law school debt graduates have taken on even though law jobs have been disappearing for decades.

Links to Leichter’s previous AmLaw articles can be found here.

もちもち (mochimochi): springy (texture)

Back in my language-school days at Midd, a New-Yorker foodie friend got on my case for eating the dining-hall bagels, telling me, “That’s not a bagel. That’s a piece of bread shaped like a bagel.” It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t find out what sort of things pass for “bagels” in Japan–it’s more like “cake shaped like a bagel.” Sometimes you can get passable bagels in the chain bakeries of Kanazawa, and Kaldi Coffee sometimes has imported frozen bagels, but they’re a bit pricey. Either way, it’s not just like popping over to Espresso Royale for a fresh Barry’s Bagel during an intense paper-writing session.

Bagels are one of those foods that seem very intimidating in part because of the multi-step process of making them: using yeast, letting the dough rise, shaping, boiling, and then finally baking; and in part because you really never need to make them in the US when they’re so widely available.

CLICK HERE to read the full post.