Monday, September 26, 2011

Drink your goddamn tea! (お茶を飲み干しなさい!)


(Like you've never referenced Final Fantasy VII in your blog.)

I'm certain that many of you, like me, have found the great United States sorely lacking in the tea department upon returning from Japan. No, I don't mean that diabetes-inducing fruit-flavored rubbish you find in most restaurants these days, nor do I mean the kind that you're supposed to serve with cream and sugar with a tray of biscuits (thanks, England)... I mean tea.


Er... ok, maybe not that tea.


... well now you're just being silly. 



Ah, there we go.

Of course I'm referring to that tea that we all began to take for granted, picking it up from any vending machine, convenience store or supermarket we happened to be passing by on the way home. After a time, we could no longer recall a life without every form of tea imaginable at our beck and call, at any hour of the day or night... a savior on a hot afternoon suffered with no air conditioning, or some handy hydration after a long night of dancing and carousing.

Yea, that tea.

But then, horror of horrors, when you return to America and peruse your local grocery store for a thirst-quenching beverage, you find that you had forgotten one of the most inconvenient cultural differences in existence!

A lack of tea appreciation.

Alas, any tea you find on convenience store shelves in this country is doomed to be over-sweet, over-brewed, over-flavored, or just plain nasty.

That's right, I said it. 


In a country where gourmet culture is governed by a nation-wide sweet tooth, unsweetened teas have little to offer.

Yes, yes, I know it's a stereotype, but I'm going by what sells, people. And really, it's not a horrible thing--after all, we, as a species, have been conditioned to like sweet things. Our bodies simply haven't caught up with our modern age, where calories need not be hoarded for the harsh climes of the winter and pounced upon at every opportunity... So in reality, a sweet tooth is the human condition, not the American one, and you should remember that every time someone insists that Japanese people don't like sweet things. Sure, their pastries may contain far less traditional sweetening than do those in the good ol' US of A, but what they fail to remember is that wagashi, or traditional Japanese sweets, are practically loaded with sugar and sweetness, and those nibbles they serve during tea ceremonies are nothing more than sugar held together with water and propriety and...

.... ahem.

However. The market's reluctance to embrace Japanese tea need not hinder your thirst quenching! Fear not, for I, your humble servant, have done some back-breaking (and tongue-shriveling) research in order to find the best substitutes for  that Japanese tea you know and love.

Now, this is all provided that (a) you don't live near an Asian supermarket with a sizable Japanese section and (b) you prefer not shelling out exorbitant amounts of money. If neither of these apply to you, well... um. Stay for the witty commentary?



For all you green tea lovers, we have お~い お茶, or Oi Ocha, if you prefer. A brand sold in Japan that I have found at my local gourmet supermarket, you can apparently also buy this one online. Admittedly, if you're going to resort to using the interwebs for your tea fix, you probably don't meet that (b) criteria up there... I can guarantee you, though, that Amazon won't provide nearly as many humorous anecdotes as I do. In general. Probably.

Anyway. I, personally, am not the biggest fan of plain old green tea, and prefer 玄米茶 (genmaicha) if I'm going to go the green route.


Unfortunately, I have yet to find this stuff state-side. Er, outside the Japanese supermarkets. Quit poking holes in my post!

If you're desperate for some tea but not so much the caffeine, barley tea is probably more up your alley.


I can vouch that this brand is tasty, though I have tried a number of other cold-brew varieties available in the US and found them to be at the same level. You have to make this stuff yourself, but that's usually what you do with barley tea anyway. Or it's what you should do. Come on, don't be lazy! It winds up being cheaper in the long run anyway, and good for the environment to boot!

(Won't my grandmother be proud.)

Finally, we get to the kicker. As you may or may not know, I have a great love in my heart for oolong tea. Despite numerous varieties available here in the states, for a long time I was saddened by dull flavors and bitter aftertastes.

Until now.

(cue heavenly chorus)
Oh, UCC. You make some delicious, delicious tea, and I can afford you in high doses.

Initially, I discovered this brand being served at my favorite local Japanese restaurant. Delicious, but of course, ridiculously overpriced and miles away. Alas. What's a girl to do. When I discovered it at my (much more) local Asian supermarket, however...

... where did that heavenly chorus get to?

Anyway, this is by far the best oolong tea I have found in the US that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Now, this may depend on where you're buying it, but if they're charging you more than 99 cents a can? They're ripping you off.

But hey, capitalism and all. Woot.

And then, of course, there's... 爽健美茶 (soukenbicha).

Do I get a third heavenly chorus? Anyone?
Now available in black flavor.

This stuff is the universe's gift to tea. I kid you not.

Yes, it's absurdly expensive in the US. Yes, it's ridiculously hard to find.
And yes, if you make the effort to get your hands on a bottle I'll eat my hat if it isn't the most delicious damn tea you've ever laid taste buds on.

Oh... soukenbicha.

(It's only fitting that I didn't know what it was called at first and kept referring to it as the beauty-health tea.... You know, because 健 means health and 美 means beauty and... oh, whatever.)

And thus concludes this brief foray into the world of imported Japanese teas. Abrupt? Of course. I never was very good at conclusions.

This is Edo, signing off while gloating over the six-pack of UCC in her fridge.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Monsoon and Typhoon, We're Not So Different After All (モンスーンと台風、やっぱりそんなに違ってないな。)

... Well, I mean, really, I guess we are. Typhoons, after all, have a tendency to ravage an entire country, whereas the particular monsoon I'm speaking of (Arizonan Monsoon is a legitimate title!) is an entire season that is slightly more localized to oh, say, the United States southwest.

I mean, I guess you could say that there is a definite typhoon season, and I'm sure that there are any number of typhoons who terrorize Okinawa, never to give the four main islands of Japan a second glance... and Hokkaido, based on my personal experience, is generally lacking in any sort of major typhoon experience, on the whole...

"Typhoon, you say? What on earth is that? By the by, splendid weather we're having, isn't it old boy? Pip pip. Now, what say you open up your country so I'm not forced to blow you to pieces, gentlemen?"

... ok, I am actually quite certain that Commodore Perry did not, in fact, speak with an posh, stuffy English accent*, seeing as he was, in fact, American, but hey. A girl can dream, can't she?

Besides, tell me that this man does not strike you with anything other than an air of general stuffy aloofness:

"Harumph, I say to you sir! Harumph!" - Possibly Commodore Perry
... But I digress.

Anyway, for those of you who didn't take advantage of the useful link I posted above, Wikipedia tells us the following:

The North American monsoon, variously known as the Southwest United States monsoon, the Mexican monsoon, or the Arizona monsoon, is experienced as a pronounced increase in rainfall from an extremely dry June to a rainy July over large areas of the southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico. These summer rains typically last until mid-September when a drier regime is reestablished over the region. Geographically, the NA monsoon precipitation region is centered over the Sierra Madre Occidental in the Mexican states of Sinaloa, Durango, Sonora and Chihuahua.
 Whereas a typhoon is

... a mature tropical cyclone that develops in the northwestern part of the Pacific Ocean between 180° and 100°E. This region is referred to as the northwest Pacific basin.

... and it also says there is no specific season. Ah ha. Ok, so, um. Maybe we're different.

But hey! Although I was originally inspired by the rather nice monsoon storm we had this evening, what struck me later was the strange phonological similarity between the two words. Oh come now, monsoon, typhoon?

... ok. You're right, I know. This is completely groundless based on the fact that "typhoon" is actually taifuu (台風), and how we managed to tack a random "n" onto the end is absolutely boggling, really... but then these things do go both ways, after all. Look at cabbage (キャベツ, kyabetsu), for crying out loud.

But I digress again.

Etymologically speaking, "monsoon" probably developed from either Portuguese, after (maybe) developing from an Arabic word meaning "season." In comparison, taifuu combines the character for "wind" (風, kaze or fuu) and... uh... the... Um. The character for a pedestal? The... counter... for... machines and vehicles?

... Ok. I'm sure that there's a reason, not to mention some fascinating etymology behind this one, but... well...  It's late and suddenly I've stopped caring all that much.

REGARDLESS, both Japan and America have some potentially very damaging summer(-ish, in the case of Japan) storms to be dealt with. Ok, I guess Japan may have the shorter end of the stick, what with massively destructive winds and all... but then we have microbursts, and that whole flash-flood problem endemic to a desert environment... and I mean, everyone has to deal with power outages... But Japan does have ocean issues to deal with, and....

...

SCREW IT LET'S JUST LOOK AT PICTURES.


Oooo.


Aaah.


Predictions!


Doppler! (Of what's going on right now, no less!)

... WAIT.

I figured out something that only we have.


Haboobs!

We even got on national news with one this year.

... definitely fun trying to explain that one to friends who didn't grow up here, though.

"Do you ever get those big walls of dust in the summer here in California?"
"You mean dust storms?"
"No... Well, yea, dust storms, but..."
"...?"
"You know, walls of dust! They just swallow the city, kind of thing?"
"... what are you talking about?"
"... you know..."
"I do?"
"... haboobs..."
"..."

It's always fun trying to convince them that you're not making the word up... especially when you accidentally  used the diminutive form "haboobie" without thinking. That'll go over well.

And with that final digression, this is Edo, signing off having learned her lesson once and for all about letting the weather inspire blog posts.

*Although that might explain how taifuu got butchered into typhoon. I admit that this is probably unfair, and that I've been somewhat jaded by watching contestants on a certain British quiz show repeatedly butcher Japanese while doing very well with the likes of, say, German. Oh, well. 

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The End of The World (But I feel fine!) (この世の限り[けど大丈夫さ!])

Ok, while the title may be a sort of tangential reference to an R.E.M. song, that's not exactly the angle I'm going for.

Bear with me.

Do you ever get a song in your head whose company you actually enjoy? A song that plays over and over at the back of your brain... a song that you sing at the top of your lungs in the shower, and play (on repeat) with your music device of choice at every opportunity for days and days at a time with nary an end in sight?

I have one of those songs. In my head, that is.

Songs, after all, are powerful things. According to Neil Gaiman (who we should really trust on these matters), "the right song can turn an emperor into a laughingstock, can bring down dynasties."

Admittedly, this song doesn't really do much other than make me happy.

But really, that's enough.



The title is この世の限り (Kono yo no kagiri, The End of The World), hence the title of the blog post. Ah, there is a method to my madness. Strange title for such a happy song, but hey. Juxtaposition is the very spice of life!

...Yea. Anyway, it's the song that plays over the end credits of Sakuran (trailer here, since I'm nice that way... and don't want to bother with a movie review at this particular time and place despite the fact that I love both this movie and its star 土屋アンナ [Tsuchiya Anna])... and I haven't decided yet whether it's fitting on a truly deep and profound level, or it was just the one song on the album that didn't match the mood of any scene within the movie and thus got relegated to credit duty.

Because, after all, the soundtrack is 椎名林檎 (Shiina Ringo)'s album, 平成風俗 (Heisei Fuuzoku, Heisei Customs), and thus I can't help but feel that there might have been some leeway when it came to the credits.

The album is, however, undoubtedly very fitting elsewhere.

Regardless.

This song. I love it. The end.

(Also, I really like the way the video was done. It's simplistic, cute, and imaginative.)

This is Edo, wondering if making blog posts will turn out to be the long sought-after cure to song-in-your-head-itis. (German has a word for this, why don't we? I can't believe that "earworm" is really the best we can do.)