Even as a California boy, I've gotten accustomed to waking up to a foot of fresh snow on Thanksgiving morning - largely by virtue of travel. And whether it's in Tahoe, England or Japan, I have a lot to be thankful for.
Unfortunately, I won't be able to give thanks over turkey tonight. Maybe fish? Although I'm headed to Tokyo shortly. And who knows? Maybe there's some American-themed bar handing out turkey drumsticks with every *gag* Budweiser.
Until then, I'm going to enjoy the serene surroundings of the snow...
After this morning's taste of buckwheat ice cream, I'd tasted all of Nagano's specialty foods, save for one. You know the one I'm talking about.
We finally checked in to our über-cozy room at Uotoshi Ryokan, and Uotoshi-san himself gave us a few dining recommendations. What he failed to tell us is that just about everything is closed on Wednesday evenings in Yudanaka.
So just as we were downtroddenly walking through the increasingly heavy snow, resigned to picking up something at Lawson Station (a ubiquitous, 7-11-like entity), some guy was turning on his light and putting out his sign that his restaurant was open for business.
It was an awesome Izakaya-type place, with a gazillion different sake bottles on display, bar seating, and the added bonus of semi-private tatami rooms where you gather around a short table on the floor, drink up, watch TV, and order small plates 'til you burst.
My mom pointed out that they have that Nagano specialty dish. The one that whinnies and snorts and makes or breaks people at the race track. The one that you ride, that is your companion, that has this amazing sixth sense... until you turn it into glue. Or dinner, as the case is here...
Sadly, it really is delicious. It's about the tenderest super-lean meat I've had in ages. Low in fat, high in flavor, zero gaminess. In fact, I'd probably eat it again, beyond the whole eating-as-an-adventure thing. Maybe next time I'm in France I'll have horse tartare. In the meantime, I'll never go to the race track and be the same again.
We made the hour long train journey from Nagano to Yudanaka, and along the way did a few chants, a few dances, and prayed like the bejezus that it would snow.
It's not that it could possibly snow enough for them to open up the ski resorts up here and for me to carve a few pristine runs of powder. I'm not that delusional about my new Buddhist chanting abilities to conjur weather phenomena. It's just that I wanted to gloat to all my friends back home who aren't seeing any damn snow in Tahoe. That and, hey, we're where the '98 Winter Olympics were held. It's only appropriate to see it with at least a dusting of snow.
And that dusting is what we got shortly after arrival. And that's about all we got.
We arrived at the ryokan we'd booked - that's a traditional, home-style Japanese accommodation if I haven't mentioned that before. Uotoshi Ryokan was one of two recommended by my guidebook, or any English-language web site for that matter, and since this leg of the trip is mine, I had to go with what I know. That and this one is way cheaper than the other.
Anyway, back to the point: We got here and there's no Uotoshi. Yes, there's the ryokan, but Uotoshi-san himself is nowhere to be found. In fact, there's no one at the place. Luckily, the hotel a couple of doors down said they'd be glad to hold our stuff until Uotoshi shows up, and if he doesn't, that we could have a room there.
In the meantime, the snow started to fall some more, which meant everything was falling into place. Because I plan the awesomest shit. And believe me, this shit is about as awesome as it gets:
We went over to Nagano's famous Zenko-ji temple complex, but I had an ulterior motive: To try the Nagano-only specialty of soba ice cream. Soba are buckwheat noodles, so this is, as you would guess, buckwheat ice cream.
How is it?
It tastes almost exactly like a McDonald's soft serve cone. Do they even make those anymore? Or have they all switched over to pseudo-health-conscious frozen yogurt? Anyway, it tastes just like the stuff Ronald McDonald serves up. Only with a slightly wheaty aftertaste.
Wholly disappointing.
Alright, time to check out of the fancy hotel and move on to a ryokan (old school acommodations) in the mountains.
We got up this morning and Aunt Hiroko asked me if I was having any nightmares about the ghosts of cute little birds haunting me.
Har har har. So I ate sparrow last night. What's the big deal? I was just partaking of her culture's foodways.
So we go downstairs to the gorgeous restaurant at the Hotel Saihokukan for our included breakfast. Not a meager affair, the choices of Japanese or Western style presented a full tray of goodies. I opted for western so I could have an omelet, bacon, yogurt, toast - all that good stuff.
To add to the outdoorsy feel of the restaurant, they've got a soundtrack of birds chirping - sparrows, it seems like - throughout the place. My mom pointed it out and said, "See? They're coming for you."
Har har.
And then an acoustic guitar version of the Carpenters' "Close to You" came on...
Why do birds suddenly appear? Every time... you are near...? Just like me, they want to be... close enough to peck your damn eyes out for eating them!
So the restaurant where I wanted to try basashi was closed for the night. Just as well. I took enough crap for eating (and enjoying, natch) whale meat and blubber, so I can't imagine the beating I'd take for digging into a creature people actually own and ride and care for like one of their own.
We walked around the train station area of Nagano a bit, and it's great. All sorts of bars - many with funny themes like pirate bars, Hawaiian bars - you name it. Then we stumbled upon a place that's got an old theme. As in, everything in there is old school. All sorts of toys, ads, and music from just after the war, just as the Japanese economic machine really started cranking.
My mom and Aunt Hiroko immediately felt at home, taking a trip down memory lane. I was taking a trip down the menu, where everything is dirt f'in cheap (albeit tiny) and there are hundreds of items to choose from. It's like a theme izakaya with almost every item imaginable, period music, and period artwork. And the atmosphere is raucous fun.
Being in their element, the Sisters Moriyama started ordering what seemed like half the menu. My mom knew I was bummed about not getting to try raw horse tonight, so she pointed out something on the menu that she found equally cute and loveable. Something she feeds every day, along with the cat and the squirrels in our yard...
Ok, so Hanbey isn't all about off-the-beaten-path foods. We had plenty of normal Japanese pub grub, like yakitori, croquettes, yakisoba with fried egg, musubi rice balls, grilled shiitake mushrooms. All the good stuff that goes so well with beer. When ordering another round, my mom noticed another Nagano specialty on the menu. One less cute and cuddly than horses or little birds...
That's right - the eater of crops became the eaten. Muahahahaha! Take that!
Actually, they were nothing special. Tasty enough, but nothing I'd specifically want to order again. It was just fun.
What was most fun, though, was watching Mom and Aunt Hiroko sing along to really old Japanese songs. They loved the place so much they couldn't stop gushing about it to the waitress, to the maitre d'... so much so that they gave us a bunch of souvenirs to remember the place by. Which made us love it even more.
I know I've said this, like, four times this trip already, but I think this is my new favorite restaurant.
Alright, this is where the trip becomes more mine. I picked Nagano. I picked what we're gonna do around here. And I picked the hotel.
Which is pretty frikkin' sweet, even if I do say so myself. It's the Hotel Saihokukan, about in the middle of town, and it's niiiiice. Not super duper over-the-top nice, but I've got a nice working desk, a couple of full-sized beds, a sofa bed, and full-service everything. The full-service part is ridiculous. They've got people with white gloves handing you and taking back your umbrella when the concierge claps his hands n' shit. But then, this is where the Imperial family stayed during the Winter Games. Talk about serious amenities.
And most important of all? I've got internet, glorious internet. This is important as I have some work to do tonight (like, real work) but that's not 'til about midnight.
In the meantime, please do scroll down and enjoy the backlog of postings since yesterday morning.
There's a lot of video, which has been fun to do.
Speaking of fun, we're all a little hungry, and I've got a place with the local specialty, basashi, in mind. Mmm, horse sashimi!
So we're on our second of three legs of a train trip to Nagano right now.
On the third, we're going to meet up with my Aunt Hiroko, who's joining us from Osaka. She's mad for mountains and wants to come up to the Japanese Alps, where we'll hopefully see some snow and gorgeous mountain scenery - this was the site of the '98 Winter Olympics, after all. It snowed on Sunday, and there was supposed to have been a nice dusting today. Keep your fingers crossed!
In the meantime, the announcements on the train are hilarious. First, there's the standard stop, upcoming stops, and destination announcement in Japanese. It's then followed by an announcement in English, only the person saying it has a Spanish accent.
The conductor just stopped by to check our passes, and after looking at my mom's, he asked, "Matsumoto?"
My mom was starting to nod when I cut in and said, "No, it's Moriyama," correcting our Japanese family name.
Then I realized he was referring to our train's destination, where we'd change trains to Nagano.
