Red Bull, Red Meat, and Febreeze.
Our last night in Tokyo was to be spent back in the hip Shi BOO YAH neighborhood. We were to meet Tim’s Red Bull Athlete Manager in Japan, Arnie Ueno, at the Hachiko Dog statue again and we would be heading to dinner somewhere in the neighborhood.
When we got to the statue we immediately heard Arnie calling for us and he introduced us to his co-worker, Ai, pronounced “Eye.” Or “I,” eye suppose.
As we walked our way through the neighborhood everything seemed all too familiar. We were no more than two blocks away from our late night Ramen establishment.
Something I found interesting about Tokyo was how everything existed on the vertical. On every business sign hanging on every business you would find 1F, 2F, 3F, etc. As you could probably guess, these number/letter combos indicate on which floor you could find your preferred establishment.
The street level of each building rarely housed more than a hallway to an elevator. Into the elevator you would go where you would press the button for your desired floor. Depending on the establishment to which you were patronizing, you would step out of the elevator into a place much more desirable than the street level entrance.
In our case on this evening, we stepped into a small rock garden and then through sliding doors into an ultra-contemporary foyer where customers’ shoes lined the wall.
I hoped my feet didn’t stink.
When we turned the corner, we were greeted by multiple women in what I would guess were Kimono robes. They walked us down a central, dark-stained wooden walkway to a low-laid table. My first thought was, “I can’t sit on the ground for an entire meal. Hips. No. Good.”
Luckily, the seating was actually recessed in the floor. Tim appeared to be sharing similar concerns to me as he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw there was a place for our feet below the seat.
As with every meal in Japan, we were greeted with warm towels to wipe our hands. If you are a man, you can also wipe your face. I did.
Ai, who had reserved this dinner, explained that the meal we were about to have was Yakiniku, meaning, literally, grilled meat. Grilled meat we would have.
Before we got to eat the meat, Tim and I were each greeted by three of the kimono-clad servers who, ever-so-delicately, placed bibs around our necks. For this we said, “Arigato.”
Ai’s reaction to the three-person bib application:
Tim’s reaction:
Then came the meat.
There were small cuts of beef.
They became this:
There were large cuts of beef.
I don’t really know what that cut was, but the best Arnie and Ai could do to describe it was as a rib or back strip. Either way, it was the best piece of meat I have ever eaten. When it reached a certain point of cooking, the server would come to the table and use those large scissors leaning against the grill in the photo above to snip it into smaller pieces.
After a few rounds of seemingly standard beef cuts, Ai upped the ante by ordering some beef tongue.
While this wasn’t my favorite, it was worth trying. It was, for lack of better description, chewy.
I should mention that after each selection of meat was grilled and eaten, one of the servers would come to our table with a fresh grill top. There would be no tainting of one meat’s taste by the last. Luckily for me, the used, hot grill top was precariously lifted over Tim and Arnie’s heads each time.
After receiving our fourth fresh grill top, we were then thrown off our game by what appeared to be white meat.
False alarm, this wasn’t white meat. It was the cow’s “first stomach,” Ai had said.
It curled on the grill as it cooked, and was also chewy. Again, not my favorite, but you know what they say, “When in Tokyo…” Right?
We had some vegetables. Arnie said he hated cucumber with a passion, so he had none.
A surprisingly tasty treat was the fried garlic.
We finished off the meat session with some hot soup which, obviously, had beef in it. The broth reminded me, ever so slightly, of the double spice Ramen broth I had drunk on our first night out.
As was customary with every meal we had in Tokyo, we were also offered miso soup and hot green tea.
To compensate for having eaten a bowl full of fried garlic, we were each given a piece of gum.
Filled to the brim with red meat, we all stood from our sunken table and made our way to our shoes we had left in the foyer. With our shoes back on our feet, we stepped back into the rock garden that had first greeted us at the elevator where one of the servers offered to spray us with a glorified Febreeze. They really thought of everything.
I kindly obliged the offer to be rid of grilled meat, tongue and stomach scent, took my small Valentine’s care package they were offering, and I stepped into the elevator with my other no longer smelling of meat friends and headed back into the downtown Tokyo night life.
Karaoke?
Rice Balls, AKB48, and Raw Coffee.
After an awesome morning spent betting on bikes, we got back in the Cannondale van with Hiro and Ichi.
It was lunch time, and we would be eating on the road.
“McDonald’s or Rice Balls?” Hiro asked.
Tim and I both replied “Rice Balls” without hesitation.
Hiro shook his head and said, “Crazy Americans. They eat squid but not McDonald’s.”
Rice balls are purchased at 7-11 and they are really like rice triangles wrapped in thin seaweed. You can get salmon, sweet plum, or tuna with mayonnaise. They come double wrapped in plastic with special instructions.
First, you pull the plastic from the top of the triangle, straight down, and around the back. This unwraps the seaweed that has been kept separate to stay dry. Then you pull the plastic wrapped around the rice triangle directly to the side, almost like Mr Wizard pulling the tablecloth out from under the dishes on the table.
Mr Wizard. Hated that guy.
What you are left with is a deliciously sweet rice meal wrapped in fresh, paper-thin seaweed. From 7-11.
After lunch, we headed into the Akihabara neighborhood, otherwise known as “Electric Town.” Also known for gifting the world with the current female idol group, AKB48.
Aitakkata, aitakkata, aitakkata, yes!
There are 57 members in the group. They have their own theater in Tokyo where they perform daily, and they have pop-up shops that sell only their merchandise.
Back Street Boys? What Back Street Boys?
In Akihabara, Ichi took us to a shop where he said he would shop, with the types of items he would buy. Tim and I purchased gifts for our wives and I took a picture of a robot.
The shop was located in a cool, little complex that sat beneath the above-ground train.
There was bike parking.
And there were toilets.
There was a store that only sold items made of wood.
I nearly cracked around 6 pm from an already long day. Knowing we had dinner with Red Bull reps in a few hours, and who knew what after dinner, we needed some coffee.
We found good coffee.
Tim and Ichi enjoyed their “coffee of the day.”
And I acted like the weird guy taking pictures of raw coffee beans. By “acted,” I mean, “was.”
I really regret not buying this espresso grinder. Such an idiot.
After a few cups of coffee, Ichi walked Tim and me to the train so we could meet two reps from Red Bull Japan in ShiBOOYAH at the Hachiko Dog again where we would be dining on meat products.
On the train, where no one speaks, I told Ichi I loved him as he walked through the doors for the last time. He did not reciprocate, but I didn’t take it personally.
Red Bull, Red Meat, and Karaoke coming up next…
Eat the Head.
After our visit to Bonsai Cycle in Sendagaya, we made our way to the train with Kaiko Shimura, better known as the girl who is polluting the internet with images that would best be kept off the internet.
Thanks, Kaiko.
The train was crowded.
And unbelievably quiet! Seriously, no talking. Silence. Except for the click of my camera shutter. Whoops.
We got off the train in the hip neighborhood of Tokyo called Shinjuku. There is a mix of fine shops and sketchier streets here.
There is also a famous department store called Setan.
They had shoes.
And light bulbs.
The basement level of this department store is amazing. It’s all food goods, particularly confections and candies.
And whiskey.
Suntory Time.
On this occasion, it was ridiculously busy with women rushing to buy their men Valentine’s gifts. Yes, you read that right. Take note, America. Take note. Tim broke the mold and purchased items for his wife.
The customer service was outrageous. Each confection was delicately wrapped and placed in a special box. After paying, the clerk came around from behind the counter and handed Tim his receipt to confirm the price and then hand-counted the change due to ensure Tim received the proper amount.
And then with a bow, we left for Tempura.
There was pickled eggplant.
Tuna Sashimi.
And shrimp faces.
I balked at those beady little eyes, but the consensus at the table was to eat it. So I did. I ate his little head.
As seems to be the case at every meal, we finished off with Miso Soup and Green tea and then we headed back out into the bright lights of the Shinjuku neighborhood.
And then back on the train, where Tim refused to sit next to me.
Crazy Americans
One thing we vowed to do while in Tokyo was to eat as the Japanese eat.
So far, I have shared Hotel Breakfasts, Sushi, Shabu Shabu, and now it’s time for a meal from Osaka called, “Okonamiyaki.” They call it the “Japanese Pancake,” but I can assure you, this ain’t your standard breakfast dish.
Yaki, in Japanese, is Grill. So when we were brought to our tables, we were greeted by a large grill embedded in the table.
The server lit the propane fired Yaki and then proceeded to mix and mold a combination of cabbage, bacon, beef, onions and some other unknowns into two piles.
After the piles were sufficiently built, they were left to cook for 15-20 minutes on the yaki.
While we waited, our hosts decided to continue playing a little game they like called, “What will Tim and Chandler eat?”
This time it was something they had a lot of difficulty describing. They were able to say, “Stomach and tendons.” I think Tim added tripe to the description.
Some things were chewy. Some things were not. Some things were tasty. Some things were not.
Either way, we polished off the bowls and our hosts were left in a state of disbelief.
After the bowls of entrails the server brought out a kind of omelet. I never was able to get a name for this item, but it was basically an omelet wrapped around pork and some sort of cheesy, milky substance.
It was interesting watching it cook on the grill, since it almost appeared to jump and dance as it cooked.
I think the topping of this omelet was either seaweed flakes or fish flakes. I couldn’t really tell, but as I brought it closer to my mouth it smelled a little like fish, but it didn’t taste like fish.
This was not my favorite dish, but I ate it.
In the meantime, the Japanese Pancakes were still cooking and the server came to add some additional ingredients…
The sauce was hard to describe, except that I think it’s called okonomiyaki sauce. It’s gooey and sweet, but not that sweet, almost like a bland caramel.
After a few more minutes of cooking, the pancakes were then chopped into individual servings for our table.
Some noodles were added to the grill.
I don’t really know how to describe the okonomiyaki. There is so much going on with it that it’s hard to identify one real taste. The texture is definitely enjoyable, since the cabbage is crunchy and then there are the grilled noodles. I wish I could describe it better, but I really can’t.
As we were eating our pancakes, we were then given some raw squid to grill and eat. Shame on me for not taking a photograph.
This was, literally, one of the most delicious things I ate while in Japan. It didn’t appear to be seasoned in any way, but it tasted so. It was salty and less chewy than expected.
Much to the dismay of our hosts, when Tim and I took a bite of the squid, we both reacted the same way. With full mouths we tried to say, “It’s delicious.”
Their response? “Crazy Americans. They like squid but they don’t like McDonald’s.”
How About Some Hardcore
Before the Cyclo Cross Tokyo 2012 race on Saturday, we were introduced, by Daisuke Yano, to the owner of Bonsai Cycle, a special bike shop in Tokyo.
Upon meeting the owner, he told Tim Johnson he made “replica helmets.”
“This one?” Tim asked, pointing to his Red Bull helmet?
“Yes,” he replied, “This one is very difficult.”
We were intrigued by this and looking forward to the opportunity to meet him at his shop, especially since we had also been told, via THE INTERNET, to visit this shop for it’s coffee. Coffee, mmmmmmmmm.
Two days later, our hosts, Hiro Ito, Hideyuki Suzuki, and Koichiro Nakamura, brought Tim, Kaiko Shimura, and me to Bonsai Cycle. It would turn out be a more amazing experience than we could have ever expected.
I am pretty sure that says, “Bonsai Cycle.”
When we had first met the owner, he was dressed in street clothes and a traditional cycling cap. He looked like a bike messenger. When we met him again, this time in his establishment, he was dressed to the nines, in a fine white shirt, sweater vest and bow tie. The pride he took in his business was obvious.
Upon entering Bonsai Cycle, we were welcomed to cyclocross-themed muffins and espresso drinks made by the shop’s barista.
In broken English, the owner explained that, to him, cyclocross was all things brown; Mud, Coffee, and Chocolate.
The muffins were tasty. And brown. And chocolatey.
I am a fan of hyperbole. I do not use hyperbole when I say that I had the best macchiato I have ever had at Bonsai Cycle. The Barista was more skilled than I have ever seen, as was evidenced by her cappucino art.
After sitting with our muffins and drinks, the owner then gave us a tour of his shop.
He then led us to the replica helmets he had made. BY HAND.
First, we saw his Jeremy Powers Team Rapha Focus Edition helmet.
And Tim tried to steal it.
Then he led us to the Tim Johnson Red Bull Edition helmet.
We saw the inspirations for his creation.
And the materials he used to create it.
The visit to Bonsai Cycle was yet another amazing experience in this visit to Tokyo. After finishing off what remained of our coffees and muffins, we headed into the streets of the small neighborhood that housed Bonsai Cycle with Koichiro and headed to Shinjuku for Tempura with Kaiko.
