yakihito

Oita Craft Beer

Sometime ago I wrote about Hitachino Nest White Ale Beer, a nice little Belgian-style white from a craft brewer better known for sake. I assumed that I'd be able to find it and Kiuchi Brewery's other types at most liquor stores. Turns out I was way wrong.

Japan only allowed small breweries to start up in 1994. There are a number of small breweries but none that can rival the brewing power of the big four, Asahi, Kirin, Suntory and Sapporo. Go into your local grocery store and all you'll find are beers from these companies, and the occasional can of Heineken or Budweiser. Here's an article I found on this phenomenon in the LA Times.

So what's a beer lover to do? Shop at the train station.

The most reliable place to try local craft beers is actually in the souvenir section of major train stations. Japan has a huge gift-giving culture. Anytime you go farther than your local bank branch you're supposed to bring back souvenirs from your trip, and this more often than not will be some local food or product, all helpfully stocked at the station so you can grab something while waiting for your train.

The other day I had to go out to Beppu to get a shot, and on the way back I did what most people do in Beppu station: kill time in the souvenir shop. I bought a few bags of sembei (rice crackers) for friends in Tokyo and then I saw it: local craft beer. Brewed not in Beppu but a little further north, in Usa. The name of the beer is Forest of Yufuin (由布院の森). Yufuin is a hot-springs town in the mountains in the interior of the prefecture, complete with active volcanos and scenic vistas. The kanji for Yufuin (湯布院) is slightly different—perhaps the kanji on the beer label is its old writing. (The kanji used for the mountain Yufu uses the same writing, which leads me to believe the first character in the name of the town was changed—without altering the pronunciation—to reflect its status as a hot springs resort.)

Anyway, the beer was disappointing. It's described as a weizen ale beer, and having "good taste and hight (sic) quality." No quibbles with the quality (or indeed the hight) but the flavor was a bit bland. I enjoy a good weizen now and then, especially on a hot day, so given the recent weather I thought this would be perfect. Considering its almost $6.00 price tag, it was way too bland. It was almost apologetic in its inoffensive blandness.

No matter. Japan is full of train stations, each another opportunity to try a local beer.

Yumcha

There are Mister Donuts shops all over Japan. They sell more than just donuts though. Like the places back home that sell both donuts and Chinese food, Mister Donuts has lunchtime offerings like ramen. 

There's a Mister Donuts in the station in downtown Oita, and it advertises San Francisco Yumcha on one of its awnings. 

This is augmented by a sign on the door that says something about San Francisco Chinatown. It makes sense for a donut shop to sell yumcha (dimsum) but why advertise it as San Francisco style? Doesn't dimsum come from Hong Kong?

Classy

Nothing says class like...

Pocky on ice. You know how I roll.

Tea in the Classroom

Last week in Intro to Japanese History, Culture and Performing Arts, we had a traditional tea ceremony performed for us in class. Here's the makeshift tea room.

We were first served sweets to prepare our palettes for the very bitter green tea that would follow.

The wooden spear is actually a traditional samurai toothpick!

Here's the sensei preparing the tea.

The ceremony is very methodical. Each movement is precise and predetermined. So you can imagine how well I did when it was my turn to try. Keep in mind this is after having two bowls of tea—super-caffeinated tea! How many ways did I screw up? Well, I started by stepping on the floor in my stocking feet before stepping onto the rug (damnit!). I was flying from the tea, it was super hot, and I was completely aware how bulky and unrefined I was next to the sensei. 

Look at this:

 

And then I drank that bowl of tea too. Woohoo! I'm still amped from that day. (Not really.)

Ethnic Oita

In my never-ending search for decent Mexican food in Oita, I tried a place that always makes me laugh when I pass it: Ethnic Bros. Yeah, you read that right. Here's proof:

The sandwich board sign on the street promises all kinds of ethnic fun to be had, albeit fun with an ethnicity that is decidedly Japanese.

The interior was a riot of Mexican rugs, American pop culture detritus from the '50s, and pro wrestling paraphernalia. No, not the American kind, the Japanese and Mexican kind. Pictures of luchadores and their masks hung comfortably on the walls next to local heros. The owner came out of the kitchen at one point and, given his size, I wondered if he wasn't a former wrestler himself.

I ordered a Mega Burrito, enticed by this sign that advertises "American size" (in katakana, lower right).

It was more like "half American size." 

The burrito was decent enough. The fresh cilantro was nice but the meal was missing an essential ingredient that just killed it for me: salsa. No matter how much tabasco I dumped on it, the lack of ranchero sauce was plainly obvious. 

I tried another place a few days after Ethnic Bros that had even less to recommend about itself (except a lot of tequila, which I don't really drink). The search continues.

Oita Dispatch 3: Catching Up With Adam

Yes, been very busy as of late. My nine classes continue to test my diligence with homework, tests and presentations. I've also been traveling on the weekends which is very rewarding but not so good when it comes to studying. This weekend I'm staying in and I thought I'd take the chance to get caught up on some things.

First off, I was supposed to participate in a sake tasting competition (for foreigners I think) today. The top prize was a trip to Tokyo to compete in the nationals. I canceled at the last minute though. I feel bad about it but I also have A LOT to do this weekend. I'm also DJing a friend's birthday party tomorrow which means I'll be out of commission from 6pm tomorrow until pretty much Tuesday. The last thing I need is more drinking.

Like I mentioned the other day, it's wet. Rainy season. Never stops. I have a little clothes washer on my veranda but no dryer. So my room has been full of damp clothes for the past few days. I've got the AC on full blast, which may actually be freezing the clothes into ice rather than drying them.

Bought a few plane tickets this weekend. One is for Tokyo. I'll be heading out there in August to see friends, eat good food and climb Mt. Fuji. I'll take the train back to Oita, leisurely stopping at sites along the way. I also bought round-trip tickets to Seoul, South Korea, for a September trip. (Interestingly enough, it takes the same amount of time to fly from here to Tokyo as it does to Seoul. Only 1 1/2 hours!) I'm really excited about this. I've been reading through Lonely Planet's guide to Korea and it sounds amazing. I'm going to do both big cities and small, quiet areas, maybe an island for a bit of beach relaxation. To make sure I don't pick up some unwelcome bug while across the Japan Sea I have to get some shots over the next month. Korea isn't Africa but Hep A is not unheard of there. No thank you!

At the dorm where I live, the students are primarily American, Korean, and Chinese. I've noticed an interesting grouping lately. The Koreans tend to hang out with Japanese students, and the Chinese with Americans. This is not always true of course, but I think there's something here. Korea and Japan have very similar cultures. Both are small, relatively homogeneous countries with histories of isolation. They are also both heavily influenced by Confucius, and thus have hierarchical societies. China and America, in contrast, are large, multi-ethnic nations that both consider themselves the center of the world. Americans and Chinese are both outspoken and refuse to take any shit. You'd think this would lead to more differences than similarities but somehow we put our nationalities aside and just make a lot of noise. Yes, both Americans and Chinese are loud. At least, the ones in my dorm are. (Oh, and lest you think it's a language thing, while most of the Americans can not speak Japanese so well, limiting our ability to communicate with them, the Chinese do speak it well. But they still always hang out with us.)

So there you go, that's what's going on right now. Oh, I still have pictures from last weekend's trip to Kumamoto to post. Hopefully this weekend...

Oh God, Somebody Give Me a Taco, Please

Went out last night to an izakaya, a kind of Japanese tapas place, with Emily, another of the Americans here, for a little study break of beer and gyoza.

See:

Lovely stuff all around. I really enjoy izakayas, I do, but it doesn't always take care of my food fix. Lately, I've been really missing some specific foods from home. Like, jonesing. Here they are, in no particular order:

Tacos

I mean, authentic tacos al carbon. Greasy and spicy and from a taco truck with zero health code compliance.

Shawerma

Mmm, juicy chicken shawerma with maybe some pickles inside.

Coffee

I have coffee here, true, but the stuff I make in my room is so damn weak. Peet's! Peet's! Peet's!

Real Bread

I'm not what you'd call a bread lover but sometimes you just want a nice sandwich, maybe with dutch crunch or a nice sourdough, or maybe a whole grain. Here it's white bread or nothing. Thick, fluffy, tasteless white bread.

Brown Rice

What they call genmai here. It's prisoner food, not real people food. I'm tempted to get myself arrested just to get some extra fiber in my diet.

Belgian Beer

I like Japanese beer just fine. There's nothing nicer at the end of a long, hot day than a giant mug of Japanese beer. But hey, variety is the spice of life, right? And this life demands Belgian beer. Chimay, Duvel, Gulden Draak, Piraat Ale... Hell, even Stella Artois would be nice.

San Francisco Breakfast

I don't often go out for a big breakfast. But some Sundays just call for a tofu scramble, biscuits with vegetarian gravy and strong, strong coffee. I suppose miso and rice will have to do.

There's more, lots more, but I actually have to start studying again. Say, anyone want to send me a care package?

Now That's Hot

Oita is not a well-spring of ethnic foods. You've got Japanese food, Japanese food, and Japanese food that kind of resembles American food. So it was with great surprise and excitement that I entered the Indian restaurant I found randomly in the downtown area.

I ordered a curry and without thinking told them the level of spiciness I wanted: super hot. I'm no spice masochist, but I do like it spicy. In America, no matter how much you tell the wait staff at Indian restaurants that you like it hot, it's still never hot enough. I figured Japan to be the same. This is a country that just doesn't do spicy. The Chinese students and Korean students say Japanese food is too sweet.

My curry arrived. I took one bite and realized it was, truly, super hot. It was so hot I started hiccuping. I kept eating, hiccuping all the while, while my friend laughed at me.

"Don't *hic* laugh! It's not *hic* funny!"

The cooks from the back—who I presume to be Indian or Pakistani—came out a few times to make sure it wasn't too spicy, and to bring us fresh water, which we were drinking at a terrifying rate.

After the meal I was taken by the warm glow of endorphins and wandered around downtown in a happy haze. Today, however, my bowels hate me.

Bring the Noise

I had heard from my good friend Rupan777 over at Gaijinzoku that, come summer, you can often find beer gardens on the roofs of department stores and other tall buildings in Japan. It was with relish and anticipation then that I noticed a sign for a beer garden outside the Dai-Ichi Hotel in downtown Oita.

A group of us was there on opening night, a cold, not-quite-yet-summer evening made bearable by the half-price entry fee. For roughly $17.00, we were allowed to eat and drink all that we wanted. We only had an hour and a half until closing so we made te most of it. I must have drunk 5 beers.

The food wasn't too impressive—fried rice, sausages, French fries, oden—but the beer was great. Well, it was your usual Asahi and Kirin, which I like just fine, but it was the way in which the beer was distributed that was so amazing. Rather than have a bar, or even a self-serve tap, there was a bank of machines that looked like they should be distributing soda. Put your glass under the spout, press the button, and watch the magic.

First, it tips your glass back to avoid building up too much foam, and then in pours the beer.

It finishes it off with a jet of bubble-infused beer to add the perfect head.

Grab, drink, repeat.

A few of us came back the next week on the last day of the half-price opening week special. I don't recall us being any more loud than anyone else on that first day, but when we arrived we were told—in English yet—to not be loud. We were still (quietly) mulling over this a few hours later when two extremely drunk women came over and started yelling at us.

"This is a pen!" they screeched, finally having an opportunity to use the first English sentence they ever learned (and obviously the only one they remember).

I congratulated them on their great English, and then one pointed to the other and yelled, "New half!" At this we all collapsed in laughter. "New half" is the Japanese term for transsexual. "Amazing!" I said in Japanese, at which the alleged new half launched into a drunken series of protestations.

They were not told to be quiet.

Now That's TOO Small

In Japan, small is often better. You've heard of the famously small Japanese cars, Japanese apartments, and Japanese food portions (the latter of which are especially hard on Americans). After being here a bit, I'm inclined to agree that small can often be better. Smaller cars are better for the environment. Smaller apartments are cozy and cost less to heat. Smaller portions? I've already lost 10 pounds.

Now I find that Japan even has small beer. Like the smaller Coke and Pepsi cans that have been appearing in America, Japan offers a number of its beer brands in these petite cans. In the picture to the right I've got Asahi Style Free (which is inexplicably both style free and possessing of a "Refreshing new style") and Kirin. I tend to like my beer in bigger containers but I'm willing to go along with this minimizing of alcohol containers.

To a point.

That, my friends, is 135ml of beer. A shot of beer in a can.

Yes, there is such a thing as too small.