"Where else would you go when you have an ax to grind?"
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Somebody get Mike Wallace to look into this
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Cute fluffy bunnies of the sea or dinner?
Okay, this has gone on long enough. All this bullshit about the Governor General eating some seal meat that is. It is no better or worse than eating a big mac, roast chicken or a salmon steak.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
"I bet I can eat 50 eggs gyoza"
On Sunday afternoon, I returned to one of my favorite restaurants in Tokyo. You won't likely find it in any guidebook and, to be honest, I don't even know its name, but if you find yourself in the Kameido area of Tokyo, just look around near the station for a tiny dive in a side alley across from the train station with a long line outside and you will know you've found The Gyoza Joint.
It isn't much to look at. It is a dingy, slightly dirty, run-down place a little larger than your average basement rec room with a long narrow U-shaped counter running two thirds the length of the place and a raised tatami straw mat-covered platform running along the wall by the door. At the top of the U, next to the door is the open kitchen, a space with just enough room for two men to stand in front of a row of hot cast-iron pans about the size and shape of trash can lids. They don't need a lot of room for a lot of equipment
Imagine that in Japanese with a couple of plump old ladies hollering "Gyoza! gyoza! beer! beer!" and you have an idea of the atmosphere. You don't even order here, except for drinks. You just wave for another plate of the finest cheap gyoza in town - five to a 250 yen plate - or another quart bottle of ice cold Asahi or a Birley's Orange Soda. (They might serve something else but I've never seen it). Fresh plates arrive like clockwork until you start to slow down and when the feeding frenzy ends, the waitress counts the plates and empty bottles and hands you the bill.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Friday, June 27, 2008
Memories, misty water-coloured memories
Go put on some polyester, crank up the Barry Manilow, set the wayback machine for 1974 and LET'S EAT.
h/t to Canadian Cynic
Monday, February 04, 2008
from the "What will they think of next were they thinking?" Dept.
Somehow I can't see that there would really be that much demand for this, since there is no way in hell a canned cheese burger looks anything like the photo. I've done my share of canoe trips and eaten some pretty exotic campfire fare (Pie, pizza, cornbread or escargot cooked on a campfire anyone? how about a full Thanksgiving turkey dinner cooked in a woodstove? ) but cheeseburger-in-a-can?.....Really?
(and feel free to make gratutious LOLcat jokes in the comments)
"I haz cheezeburger! I need borrow ur can-opener!"
upchuckdate: thanks to the eagle eyes of commenter Steve at the Galloping Beaver, and the cast iron stomach of a man named Honk, we have PICTURES of the foodcrime via (appropriately enough) Something Awful, just scroll down and keep scrolling, if you dare.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Coming soon to a dinner plate near me, the latest bit of Japanese "research" on whales. They really are conducting whaling as research. They are killing humpbacks to determine if they taste better baked, fried, stewed in a curry or done up as "whale nuggets" -- all in the name of science.
Click here for more on how you can enjoy tasty endangered species! Coming soon, Panda sushi with California Condor eggs fried on a fire of teak harvested from the rainforest.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Pass the salt...and the fire extinguisher
I can see the advertising campaign now "Our food is so spicy, they had to call out the fire brigade and evacuate the building." or "Our peppers are for eating, not spraying". I guess some in the land of bangers and mash just aren't ready for spicy Thai food. I've cooked some spicy chili over the years, but I've never had anyone call out the firefighters - the health department maybe, but not the fire department.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Another weekend, another barbecue
Took the curvaceous and emminently capable Ms. Rev. Paperboy and the youngin' up into the mountains of Yamanashi Prefecture this weekend to camp out on a mountain top at The Northlands with 50 of our closest friends from my old watering hole in Kawasaki, Moby Dick, (named for the drum solo, not the whale) the friendliest bar in Japan, if not the world.
We took the train up early Saturday morning and my big little brother Take-chan picked us up at the station and whisked up up the mountain for a day of eating, drinking, loafing in the sun, barbecuing, drinking, playing music, and more drinking. The next day we got up to bright, bright (I have never wanted sunglasses so much as I did when I stepped out of the cabin - did I mention I'd been drinking the night before?) sunny weather, let the kids feed the horses at the riding stable (priceless). After checking out of the campground we took a short, scenic, vomit-filled (Anyone know what the Japanese for "Gravol" is? Dramamine doesn't seem to work on my kids, in fact, I suspect it is making them sick) drive through the mountains we stopped for soba and then took the train home.
Special thanks to Kaki-san, Takarada-san, the G-Tribe Motorcycle Club, Linn-chan and Ayu-chan for drumming and babysitting above and beyond the call; wheel man and soup chef Take-sama and of course our gracious host The Chief.
To paraphrase the master (and this is the real list): "We had 5 cases of Heineken, 2 bottles of Captain Morgan's dark rum, 2 bottles of Blanton's Single Barrel bourbon, a bottle of Black Bush, 2 bottles of Beefeater, 2 bottles of Jose Cuervo Gold, a bottle of Bacardi white rum, 5 litres of red wine, 5 litres of white wine, a bottle of Glenlivet, a bottle of Kalua, a bottle of Amaretto, a bottle of cassis, ten litres of assorted sake, a half dozen different kinds of sho-chu, 5 kilos of Rev. Paperboy's homemade spicy Italian sausage, 3 kilos of chicken, 4 kilos of assorted beef, 2 tuna heads, a dozen baguettes, a broad assortment of salads, pickles, olives, cheeses, chocolates, 'smores and 6 litres of Take's fabulous vegetable chicken-sausage soup.
The only thing that worried me was the tuna heads. There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man drunk on sake in the depths of a tuna binge."
I'm not claiming we drank all the aforementioned booze - though I think I had the last beer the next morning - but we certainly put a dent in it. I know we went through about half of the Irish whisky just er...toasting my sausage -- which isn't nearly as dirty as it sounds.


