Waku-Waku sweets

                                         (Cosmos field, now mostly dead, on my walk home from the eki)

Sadly, there are two stations I didn't photograph. I can't even remember their names for sure. Yotsuji, I think, for the second one. But that doesn't matter, they are small fries compared to today's eki. 

Shin-yamaguchi (Cue: angelic chorus)

 Shin-yamaguchi is one of Yamaguchi's three shinkazen stations, the one I'll use to get to the airport in Osaka. Actually, most prefectures have only one shinkazen station, but Yamaguchi has had the distinct honor of producing quiet a few of Japan's Prime Ministers, so it gets extra bullet trains. Even without them, though, Shin-yamaguchi is the hub of western Yamaguchi's transportation. And yes. The trains leave right on time. Be there or wait thirty minutes for the next one. 

                        So, I mentioned something about mochi, you know, that sweet rice pulp. It grows on you, really, it does. But it's like cookie dough, it tells you when you need to stop. Usually mochi comes stuffed with anko (sweet bean paste), or wrapped in leaves, or dusted with things, like black goma (that is, sesame, which, in this application, reminds me of peanut butter). There are deviations from this path. There are combinations of mochi and sweet potatoes (FYI: Japanese sweet potatoes are yellow, not orange), you can find mochi covered in chocolate, and I have even eaten mochi covered in nori, or seaweed ( my English ladies thought this was really strange, so no, I am not labeling it as another "Japanese thing" ).   Here's a picture of a box of assorted mochi that I got to sample from last Friday. 

From left to right and top to bottom: Custard, anko, chestnut, cream cheese (really good), edamame (soy bean, basically it tasted like anko), anko filling with a nori coat, the little balls are anko (I think), then sweet potato and something else (completely unlike any of the other mochai texture wise), a dusting of some traditional powder that I've forgotten the name to (probably a bean), and then a dusting of black goma. Feast your eyes on them, they have to bee eaten fresh.                      

                  If Japanese Mochi isn't your style, how about korean? The mochi itself is not sweet at all, but is is filled with a syrup. The taste was so bizarre, I can't describe it. Salty, sweet, waxy....and the texture. Not at all like the Japanese mochi(s)

(mochai? there are no plurals in Japanese), which can be either light, delicate, and soft or sticky and slightly grainy. Never, in my limited experience, waxy. Still, the korean mochi wasn't bad, not any worse than I thought mochi and anko to be when I got here in June. Come to think of it, my first run in with mochi was about two years ago in Japanese class when my sensei handed out some that she had made. I think she said she used her microwave, but I have long forgotten now. What I haven't forgotten are the vibrant neon pinks and greens she had dyed it, and the way it clung to every molecule of your skin. I was not impressed then, but I am now. 

         This is a little random, but I just looked down and realized my word verification thing is finally gone! I've been fighting that thing for months. Apparently, my letter recognition skills are right up there with a hacker's virus. But now it seems to have vanished.  Poof. How わくわく(wakuwaku).  That's right, this is a Japanese onomatopoeia, presumably the sound of a fast  beating heart. I love these words. This one means exciting, but I'm forever hearing new ones 

 ふわふわ (fuwafuwa) - Fluffy

ぴかぴか  (pikapika) - shiny, sparkles

かりかり (karikari) - crunchy

ぶくぶく (bukubuku) - bubble up, foam

These words represent a sound that goes with the idea they convey. For instance, bukbuku, which might translate as blup-blup, was used to in an attempt to tell me I should boil something. Karikari, crunch-crunch, was used in an explanation of how to brown the noodles for roof tile soba. Fuwafuwa summed up a baby's bear-like coat, you can hear it if you run your fingers on something soft. Listen hard! Pikapika has been the most used so far. Today my ladies used it on the tinsel decorations we have hung around the church. The gold and red  metallic  strands, with dangling stars of red and silver, are very pikapika. That being said, have a happy thanksgiving with those you are  ラブラブ with!

                            (Some toppings for roof tile soba,  the actual name of which still eludes me. Kawara, perhaps?)

＊ Yes, you have to go find a katakana chart and figure it out yourself. Think of it as the gift of discovery. 　 

  

Happy, Happy Day!

"Even a muggle such as yourself should be rejoicing on this happy, happy day."

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter, Book 1

Dear Sister,

You are always bugging me to post, so, since the box containing your birthday present (and that of another) is still sitting in my room, untapped and unlabeled, let this post be your official birthday present. 

There is some debate about what would make a good birthday post, some say pretty pictures, preferably old. I can't see me pulling that off, this is not exactly a personal blog. Luckily for me I can just follow the golden rule of birthdays, which is "always have food." In other words, here is your Birthday E-Feast Via Blog!

 

BiBinBa - This is a Korean dish, and very good. I got it at the Fugi Grand food court this Monday. There are various toppings you can pick but, following Mrs. Purewell's lead, I chose cheese. It's served in this huge pot of a bowl, and you are given an egg to crack into it. Don't worry, the rice is so hot that the egg scrambles when you mix everything together. It's slightly spicy and oh so good!

Seven Eleven - Yes, the local seven eleven. Right across from the church, so I can run over and get my self a lunch. From Right to Left: Rolled Sushi with Nattou (the only inherently nasty food I've had yet), Melon Pan, and a Chicken Pasta Salad (the chicken is on top with the salad and the salad dressing. Some assembly required). I've had all of these before, though at different places. In fact, I've had melon bread twice. They serve it every where, even at McDonalds.





Mabodofu - Here's what I had for lunch this Thursday. I had no idea what is was, but I bravely took it to the front counter anyway, just for you. Usually the cashier asks me if I want hashi, but this time they asked me something else. Needless to say I was thrown off. Eventually they found some way of communicating the simple question "shall I heat it up for you?" and I was able to stutter out an "onegashimasu." Then, once it was all nice and hot, and tucked into the bag with a spork, I asked the lady what it was called. "Mobarohu," she said. Or so I thought. But when I got back "home" and looked it up I found my hearing was a little off. Mabodofu it is then, and it's good. Though a little greasy, as though the hamburger meat wasn't drained properly. I think I've had something similar at the Toothy's, only without the tofu and with way more veggies. Yum!

There you go, your birthday feast. And for dessert why not forgo the usual cake and have some kakigouri, blue Hawaiian is my favorite. Make sure they drizzle it with plenty of condensed milk! (or put ice cream on top and call it a "cream frappe").



Love,
Little "B"

Thunder, Tag, and other Trifles.

"Truth is more important than modesty"
- Roald Dahl, Boy

         (Kintai  Bridge at Iwankuni)

Today I had a trifle. It made me think of Anna and Jill. We talked about Trifles once, and had to look it up in both the dictionary and Wikipedia. None of us had ever had it, at least, not under that name. But Coffee Jelly, That's the most grown-up dessert I've ever eaten, I think, for it is so rich and sweet. It oozed indulgence. A layer of coffee flavored cream sandwiched between two layers of coffee jell-o (only, you can't think of it as jell-o, that sounds so unsophisticated). If I ever wished to convince somebody of my level-headed maturity this is the dessert I would try to recreate.
But the coffee jelly was on Thursday, on Tuesday and Wednesday I was as far from sophisticated as you could get. I was at Ube's kids camp, and I was running around playing tag, trying to get those kids tired. I never did manage it, but the Ube leaders were able to teach them the precious "basics" of faith. They used the wordless book to explain heaven, hell, sin, the crucifixion, and living your life for God. Of course, it was all in Japanese.
This Sunday I move back in with the Tootheys after two weeks of living worth the Ricers. It's been a lot of fun here. I've even been able to do a little side reading: Stepping Heavenward, Boy, A Bride Goes West, and various comic books. My reading isn't over yet, as one of the Purewells students - the Purewells are the missionaries I'll be staying with when I move to Ube in September - on hearing that I like reading lent me a copy of Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. I was struggling through the first chapter, feeling like a row boat during a heavy fog, when my education finally jumped in. "This is what they call stream-of-consciousness, and Mrs. Woolf is known for it." Well, after that it was slightly easier to read, but I still think it'll have to be taken in small doses. Reading someone else's scattered thoughts seems to distort my own thinking patterns.
My reading will definitely have to take a back seat when I move back to the Tootheys', for English classes start up again this Tuesday. I'm only to teach one this week, but next week I'll be teaching two, and I will continue teaching these two even when I move to Ube. Life has often been compared to a river, the way it flows continually. It has fast spots, where the rocks jut up like daggers, and the slow times, when it barely seems to move at all, but it never stops completely. It's been raining so much these past few weeks that my life sure feels like a river, damp and cool. Perfect Reading Weather.




Oh, By the Way: If you are one of those people who have seen You've Got Mail, and if you've spent countless hours wondering just what book Meg Ryan is reading those children in the fatal first (physical) meeting of the two destined lovers, wonder no more. It is, with out a doubt, Boy. And no, I didn't notice that all by myself.