- Have some moyashi?
- Guy Jean:
- How can I have mo’ yashi if I haven’t had any yashi yet?
- Never mind … (sobs into pillow)
I woke up yesterday prepared to bike to work, seeing as it was pretty much the only sunny day of the week and we’re expecting a typhoon on the weekend. But then Nana reminded me we had a reservation for a tempura restaurant in the evening.
We got to the restaurant in plenty of time, despite my having missed an express train at the first transfer. While it was just a few steps from Roppongi crossing, it was a small, old building, a bit run-down, and we were the only guests. The waiter showed us our seats at the counter and invited us to leave our bags in the washitsu「和室」, a sign they weren’t expecting many guests.
We ordered draft beer and the waiter brought us three different starters (one is the custom). We had some time to wait before our first tempura dish, enough time to look around and notice the master and the waiter and other chefs were all well past retirement age, and that the alcohol selection was a bit limited.
At last the tempura started arriving at our plates, and it was nothing short of amazing. Really top-notch tempura: hot, lightly battered and not oily in the least. We had eggplant, prawn, two varieties of whitefish, ginnan, squid, onion, anago. Uni was one neither of us had had before, not as tempura.
At some point in the midst of this feast, I had a double-take at the master’s bowl of batter — specifically his stirring implements:
Of course I asked, and the master — taciturn until that moment — opened up about his hobby as a jazz drummer. We talked about our favorite genres and performers, and compared CD collections. They had a rather good collection behind the register at the restaurant, but as Nana confirmed, it wasn’t a patch on the one I’ve got at home.
By the time we’d finished, a woman from a nearby establishment had dropped in to pick up two large platters of tempura, and another couple had arrived and been seated at the counter. The master’s finishing touch for us (apart from ochazuke rice and sliced pear for dessert) was sweet potato garnished with a few drops of Remy Martin VSOP. (I think this was part of the set and not just a gesture in response for our shared love of jazz.)
The Natsume Soseki Memorial Museum, located in Waseda-Minamicho, Shinjuku, houses a replica of the famous author’s study from his “Soseki Sanbo” residence, the ground of which it sits upon. (The residence was destroyed during World War II.) The museum also holds an exhibit hall, café, event hall and a library dedicated to Soseki’s works. In addition to the complete works and related materials, the library contains many foreign-language editions, such as a Spanish translation of Botchan and a Korean edition of the complete works.
Natsume Soseki (1867–1916) is regarded as the father of the modern Japanese novel, and is considered by many to be the greatest novelist of modern Japan. He was known for his humorous satire of public officials in the Meiji Era, and one of his recurring themes was ridiculing Japanese attempts to imitate Western society. Among his most famous works are I am a cat「吾輩は猫である」, Botchan「坊っちゃん」, and the trilogy Sanshirō「三四郎」, And Then「それから」 and The Gate「門」.
We were fortunate to visit during an exhibit of the author’s draft writings, newspaper clippings of the original serialization of many of his novels, and elaborate scrolls of Soseki’s haiku. The exhibit also contained many early editions of Soseki’s novels, with elaborately decorated covers, correspondence with publishers, a period photograph of Dogo Onsen, the setting for Botchan, and movie posters and stills from various productions of Botchan.