The tree that ate Zachary?

Finding a single word to describe a son’s visit is difficult, if not impossible. Zachary came in from Hoboken late on the Monday night before Thanksgiving, made even later by Vice President Biden’s visit earlier in the evening. It was nice to have him all to myself for that late-night, hour-long drive from Midway. It was also nice to see his reaction to a freshly de-cluttered and painted room.

 I forgot how helpful he is in preparing the Thanksgiving meal, but it all came roaring back to me, quickly, as the week progressed. Thursday we did the traditional stuffing of the turkey (ew, yuck), and later stuffed ourselves.

We had the pleasure of an elder generation this year, Sanchita’s parents who were celebrating their first Thanksgiving at the end of a four-month visit from India. Naturally we enjoyed the lively entertainment provided by Grayson and Caleb, who both adored Uncle Zachary, and the Mukherjee girls.

 Friday it was just the three of us (plus the dog) making the traditional trek to McHenry County to cut a Christmas tree. Again, it was great to have the time to reconnect with Zachary. And from a canine perspective, Spencer enjoyed the drive time spent curled up in Uncle Zachary’s lap.


 This year we tried a new venue. Rather than going all the way out to Chemung, which may not be on the map but it’s just past Harvard, we stopped at Oney’s in Woodstock. OK, not in Woodstock, but on the outskirts of Woodstock. It worked out fine, and Zachary found a suitable tree in near-record time. (The only shorter expedition I remember is one year a while back when it was f-f-f-freezing cold and windy.) We knew this one was on the plump side, but wow! It was really, really big once we got it into the family room. It will be a great tree, but I’m already wondering how I’ll ever get it out the door.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Extraordinarily musical numbers

Having now seen Once twice, it's high time for me to make a few observations. First of all, it's a terrific show. Zachary took us to see it on Broadway last December and we were captivated. So when we saw it was coming to Chicago on tour, it was a no-brainer. We were going to see it, and I am pleased to report that the touring company is every bit as good as the Broadway cast.


As a musical experience, Once is simply extraordinary, and likewise as live theater. It's the kind of performance that makes me wish I was that good a musician, and that I was that good a writer, too. It also made me want to snap a photo, just to preserve the memory of the experience. But knowing that's not permitted, I was delighted to find photos on the official show website (www.oncemusical.com). I've taken the liberty of sharing a few here that capture key elements of the story. But more importantly, they preserve for me the memory of this touching performance. See more photos at http://pittsburgh.broadway.com/shows/once-baa/photos/.

The touring company is visiting 28 cities from now through early next October. If you have the chance, go see it. You'll be glad you did. That's all I have to say about that.

Just don't call me late for dinner

Friday night in Tokyo was a pretty amazing experience. It began, of course, with a walk of several blocks to dinner. It felt a lot like being in New York's Times Square, but there was block after block that made it feel like an ongoing, continuous Times Square.

We were dining on the top floor of essentially the Shinjuku train station/Odakyu department store. I'm sure the restaurant had a name, but I missed it. (By Friday I was focusing on the food.) We walked in through the first floor of the department store then took an elevator to the highest level - 12 - then walked up one additional curving flight of stairs to the top floor and we were in the restaurant.

The view from the top (of Odakyu).

I'm sure there was a menu again this evening, although I can't find it now. But you get the idea - the food was indescribably delicious and beautiful. Again, multiple courses, each one a delight.

It was always remarkable how quietly the dishes (and there were many) were cleared.

And of course, dessert.

Don't believe me about block after block of Times Square? Check this out - roughly 10 p.m. on a Friday night in Tokyo.

Oyasuminasai, Tokyo (although not quite yet, but that is another tale for another time...)

Relatively recent history

Every time I travel overseas, it's a reminder how young a nation, and culture, the U.S. is. Near the end of our stay in Japan, our hosts scheduled a slight detour to one of Japan's National Historic Sites, the Tomioka Silk Mill. (It had recently been named to the World Heritage List.)

Set up by the new Meiji government in its third year (1870), after centuries of Japanese isolation, the mill introduced machine silk-reeling and marked "the modernization of Japanese industry" and the beginning of the modern factory system in Japan. You can read plenty more of the Tomioka Silk Mill's history on the Internet, but as always, visiting the site itself was a deeply moving experience.

The facility was designed and built largely by a bunch of French engineers (after all, that was the market for the silk). Quite an engineering (and social) feat.

A dual station for boiling the cocoons.

A graphical explanation of how the silk is made into thread.

Rows and rows of machinery that operated until 1995, now preserved under plastic covers.

The cocoon delivery system, via overhead tracks and hoppers.

Two from our group take in the historical record.

Leaving the silk factory, I noticed lunch being delivered to one of the locals. It's not exactly the Dominos pizza car. I wish I had captured a before shot, but this shows the ingenious gimballed rig that keeps the food from sloshing about.

After visiting the silk factory, we had a tour of the Oki manufacturing facility that is also in Tomioka. Once upon a time I had an Okidata LED printer that was a fine piece of economical technology, so it was nice to visit the place from which it came.

One of the things that's always interesting on these factory tours are the requirements for entry. In this case, we all donned white lab coats and slippers, which I presume must have been anti-static or something like that. There's a first time for everything.

The journalists dine, again

On Wednesday, May 16, we were scheduled to dine at the beach house, Amada Oiso Suikeiso. We arrived in the rain, so umbrellas were hastily procured. Everything seems to happen relatively naturally when one is a guest in Japan.

The tea ceremony was probably less leisurely than if the weather had been better, but it was nonetheless interesting. (Twist the cup a quarter turn, then drink half and wipe the brim...) Fortunately, it was staged on benches under the main dining hall so we were protected from all but the most windblown rain.

After a group photo op, we retreat inside to change into slippers and pose individually clad as Samurai warriors. Hmmm. Some played the role better than others.

Our state-side host, Nick Ostrowski-san, the Samurai.

A toast at a very long table, followed (thank goodness) by the ceremonial removal of the jackets.

They say you could see the Pacific Ocean from this dining room if the weather were clear.

Looking toward the Pacific.

Again fortunately, the menu was offered in English as well as Japanese. (Take your pick.)

Appetizer: prawn cream cheese, caviar, lime, sesame bean curd, crab, delicious sauce jelly, mozuku, grated taro, water shield, radish; steamed soft-shelled turtle, shark fin in the kinugasa mushroom, soft-shelled turtle, Chinese spinach, Chinese wolfberry, juice from a ginger.

The usual suspects.

Our host took the opportunity to show us one of the ways the bandanna could be worn, ala Samurai.

This evening was in many ways all about ceremonies. I didn't quite get the gist of the whack-the-bass ceremony, but here are Mr. Takagi, with the preparation, and Mike, with the ceremonial whack.

(Click to watch the short video.)

I must have again missed taking photos of a couple courses - by now they kind of run together in my mind, of course. Here's the one I passed on: the raw egg.

For sukiyaki, you boil a variety of foods and dip them in a raw egg just before eating. (Not me.)

There's something really nice about the way were continually attended to. Here, the boiling bowls are being cleared away.

Dessert: small watermelon, Kyoho (grape), cherry ginger sherbet, ginger tea jelly sauce, mint, steamed bun shaped hydrangea.

And thus ended the second land-based meal. (It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.)

Food, glorious food (stop)

For me, the experience of eating in Japan is a wonderful celebration. It’s all about life and beauty, rendering and receiving, enjoying and appreciating, time immemorial and the very present here and now.

The food itself is one thing, of course. Regarding taste and texture, for example, I find I like some types of seaweed better than some varieties of lettuce. And then there are all the different types of seafood, but I digress, and it isn’t just the food. It’s predictably served on plates or in bowls that complement the color or shape, coordinated to be most pleasing to the eye.

As if the aesthetic presentation weren’t enough, the varied taste and texture (and yes, sometimes the crunchy sounds) are incredible. Let me sum it up this way: My father-in-law used to say that some people live to eat and some people eat to live. He proudly (for some unknown reason) declared that he was in the latter group, and I never understood the former. However, having been on the receiving end of some extraordinary Japanese cuisine, I now understand how a person could live to eat.

What we ate, and where

First, let me explain why you should travel on JAL. It was like being in Japan 12 hours before we actually arrived. I don’t know why anyone would order the western meals on the plane, but some did. Their loss. I thought I had to choose an entrée, but when the course started arriving I realized the menu was only a key to what we were about to experience.

Because I’m never quite sure about what’s permissible, I didn’t turn on my phone or camera on the plane. But the pace at which the meals are served allowed me to do a couple rough sketches.

We ate in the hotel the first night we were in Japan. I hadn’t yet realized I should be capturing images, but there was this Kodak moment after dinner as three of us retreated to the bar for a nightcap or two.

Tokyo skyline (in the background)

A walkabout, then off to Asagiri Square and Mt. Fuji

The next morning, I decided to wander around Tokyo a bit (actually, the decision had been made much earlier but the wandering itself waited until morning). A few blocks from the hotel I ducked into a small eatery for coffee and what I thought was going to be a doughnut. Could’ve sworn the guy said “sticky bun,” but it turned out to be a pastry stuffed with a very tasty curry-like filling. Surprise, but yum! Definitely ¥5.65 well spent.

As presented. Upper left are the bill (face down) and a napkin, just so.

The napkin dispenser (and an ad).

We had three extraordinary dinners on this trip at three very different venues. The first was Tuesday night at Amada’s Asagiri Square, near Mt. Fuji. We were seated at two L-shaped stainless steel cooktops where two chefs prepared an exquisite multi-course meal right in front of us. Again, a menu was provided, but only because you can’t tell the players without a scorecard.

Amuse-bouche -- Rillets of duck and pork; fresh juice; sea beam with jelly; fried wild vegetable.

Hors-d'oeuvre -- Prawn with ratatouille vegetables; rocket sauce.

Regrettably, I missed snapping a photo of one of the courses. Too wrapped up in enjoying the good food and company.

Vegetables -- Onion; bean sprouts; jewe-ear; soy oyster sauce; lemon sherbet.

Japanese beef fillet "akagi" -- soy sauce, yuzu pepper, salt guerande; garlic chips (in the bowls, below).

(Here is where I missed a photo...of garlic rice, miso soup and kelp pickles.)

Dessert -- strawberry mousse, orange mandarine brule, vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips, macaroon (raspberry and almond caramel); coffee or tea.

So ended the meal. Then began the karaoke, of which I have no record other than memory. That's probably a good thing.