From Monja to the Imperial Palace

Sept. 13-14 Around 9:00 pm we headed out to explore the streets that looked so inviting from the balcony thirty two stories above. Taejo as our guide, we followed him from the big intersection where we live to a narrow alley a few blocks away. We came to a small shop with sliding glass doors and a handful of tables. In the center of each table was a small hibachi grill. The three of us sat down at a table for four, ordered a Japanese beer, and toasted the occasion, our first time eating monja. Monja is a specialty food in Tsukishima. Our goal being to become real Tokyo-ites we relished the occasion to try this local treat. Taejo, as has become custom, ordered three different things for us to share. Monja, as we soon learned, is a pancake-like batter filled with various combinations of vegetables and meats. It comes uncooked and piled in a bowl of batter with "you be the chef" as an important part of the monja experience. Of course, we left this job to the expert, and Taejo took to the grill. To cook the Monja one must heat up the grill, oil the surface in a circular pattern, and strain the vegetable and meat contents onto the grill, leaving the liquid batter in the bowl. As the solid food cooks it is spread into a circular ring . The batter is later poured into the ring where it cooks on its own briefly. Then the whole thing is mixed together and grilled into one solid "pancake". To eat the monja we used tiny metal spatulas. The proper technique is to press a small amount of the monja into the grill surface, using the spatula to drag it towards you. It continues to cook further as it gets stuck to the spatula. When you lift your spatula up you can eat the monja off the end, and it's delicious! Twice now, when we have eaten local foods, I have had a brief moment where I am reminded of my American roots and just how different cultures and experiences can be. It seems to be Jo's job to call me out. Having a grill in the middle of the table and taking part in cooking the monja adds excitement and authenticity to the experience. It ensures a unique atmosphere, vibrant energy and an enjoyable mood. It also means that there is smoke, and of course, I was sitting down-wind . At first I didn't notice, but as my eyes began to burn, I tried to adjust my position to find a gap in the smoke to spare my eyes the watering. My efforts were futile. Jo happened to notice me squirming, and we were both left laughing, eyes watering, trying not to embarrass ourselves. We want so badly to fit in. To Kokyo and beyond! Today, Taejo left for China, Korea, and Germany, leaving us completely on our own. What did we do with our new independence, responsibility, and power? We went to the Imperial Palace! Kokyo, as it is called, is big, beautiful, and very busy. We are told the Emperor and his family do in fact live there, making it home to the longest unbroken line of monarchs in the world. Since the Palace occupies 280 acres of land, and is surrounded by moats, bridges , imposing gates, and guards, we could not get very close, nor did we have any imperial sightings. But, the Palace's beautifully manicured expanse of lawns located smack in the middle of Tokyo's two main business districts, Marunouchi and Nihombashi, made for a perfect place to study Japanese. We sat on a towel in the middle of "putting green" quality grass, practicing our verbs, sentence structure, and crafting an email to our new Japanese teammates. We want to invite them to Sumo wrestling in Ryogoku, beach volleyball in Odaiba Beach, and dinner at Izakaya. The only problem is ... Nihongo wa hanashimasen! Neither one of us speaks Japanese! Of course, we could always just ask Sawa, but that would be no fun. So, an hour later, we were still flipping through our dictionary, phrase book, and Japanese for Dummies book, and our email had only grown two sentences long. We were hungry from all the hard work. We trolled the streets for a good spot to eat. In our Tokyo tour book we read about a nice restaurant below the train tracks. We searched for twenty minutes, and never found the restaurant. Instead, we found an old man dressed in traditional Japanese garb promoting yakitori and an English menu! We resigned. Skewers of mushrooms, green peppers, eggplant, chicken, and meatballs, beer, water, two stools, a table top resting on crates of empty bottles, a crate to stow our backpack, and trains whizzing by above us, we ate happily and left very satisfied. Our first day on our own in Tokyo was historic, exhausting, and successful! Just the way it should be. I'm off to bed. Oyasuminasai - good night. Additions to the CauSAWA'nnabeher list: 1) At the monja shop, Sawa's picture and autograph adorn the wall. 2) When eating yakitori the couple next to us wanted to know where we were from and why we were in Tokyo. We told them we came to play with Miss Sawa, as she is affectionately called, and they were very impressed. 3) A nice old lady (~ 75) helped us add money to our metro cards. She wanted to know our story. Again, we told her we came to play with Miss Sawa, and she began to squeeze our arms, smiling, and saying, "sugoi, sugoi", a Japanese expression used for, cool, awesome, neat. TO BE CONTINUED ....