Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Imagination

School has been out for thirty minutes. There is no sign of the Moose who is supposed to meet me. I walk along his route expecting to see him after passing a clump of school children, after turning the corner, after passing the river but no.  I cross the railroad tracks,  making the final turn toward school. Where is this kid? Finally, I spy him, head down, with a pocketful of rocks and a stick. I ask him, "What are you thinking about today?" He replies, "Castaways." His mind is always somewhere just not the usual pursuits like getting home from school or doing homework. Turns out he's been thinking about being a castaway and collecting rocks and sticks for their usefulness to make things on a deserted island. He uses one of the rocks to rub the bark off of the stick as we walk toward his piano lesson.

His piano sensei is a blessing as she seems to intuit how to work with the Moose- meeting him where he is and yet pulling him along. She follows his lead, gently redirects, and pours on the praise. I think I need to do more of this! He has a good ear for tunes and lyrics, and like his dad easily remembers songs that he likes. He is currently obsessed with the World War I song "It's a Long Way to Tipperary" which is really a medley as the version we have also has contains "Mademoiselle from Armentières." The tunes are catchy. He drives me crazy, and he makes me laugh. Today I am grateful for an imaginative moose.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?

Mademoiselle from Armentieres,

She hasn't been kissed in forty years
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.


Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Snowman: Two Lumps or Three?

Observing Shogakko Again

My bike is parked partly on the road, where it should not be, because the kickstand sinks into the soft dirt unlike the mama bikes next to mine with their triangle stands that hold the bikes up and balanced. When I return, later, my American bike has fallen over.  Japanese mamas ride bikes without helmets so their hair is never flat and fuzzy like mine, they never strap a band on their pants to keep them out of their chain because their chains are always covered, and their bike locks with a twist of a key in the stem of their seat unlike my snakelike chain that flops about and requires looping through my tires and frame. At least I remembered my slippers today. I scuff up to the second floor where the Mule and the Moose both have open class for observation to be followed by a mamas meeting.

Cleaning Time

Entering the halls, I am early and the children are finishing up oshoji-school cleaning done every afternoon after recess. They spend twenty minutes sweeping, dusting, and wiping down the halls, stairwells, and classrooms with brooms, dustpans, and zukin cloths. The children work in pairs, groups, and by themselves stirring up clouds of dust in a great hubbub of noise.

A few children recognize me as the "Mule's Mama" or the "Moose's Mama" and a few just stare at me. A few, who can't resist the impulse, blurt out, "Hello!" I always smile and ask them a question like, "What's your name?" since if they know a bit of English they usually can answer this one. One boy with flowing brown hair gives me a double take- I'm guessing he has a gaijin father, we haven't noticed each other before. He says nothing to me. Soon the desks are pushed back into place and the children and rooms are ready for their lessons and their mother's observing eyes.

Both classes worked on their Japanese lessons- they read, they write, they play a game. I spend fifteen minutes in one class and then go to the other, then repeat, allowing each child equal time. At the end of the school day, the Mule trots home and the Moose opts to wait for me- he of course has to call me in the middle of the meeting to tell me he can't find a place to do his homework. The mama meeting is all above my head. I catch a drift of this and that when talking with the mothers, but the meeting is akin to Charlie Brown's teacher's, "Wah, whah, whah." My eyes stray. I notice the children's drawings and search for the Mule's while also enjoying each child's interpretation of the assignment. It appears that the children drew Christmas or seasonal pictures in blocks.

Snowman Art

The Mule's snowman is different- her snowman has three balls whereas the remainder of her class drew only two balls. The yukidaruma or snowman is modeled on the daruma doll which derives from Zen. The children, including the Mule, also drew mekons and kotatsu which I don't think many American children would include in a holiday drawing. Mekons are known as satsuma, a kind of orange, in the west if you know of them- they are seedless, easy to peel, and in season in winter. A kotatsu is a low table  with a heater under it and is covered by a blanket. Japanese houses are often poorly insulated and thus quite cold. The warm table is a place the family gathers to read, play games, and eat mekon.

I took photos of the children's drawings from the Mule's class. The children labeled each drawing. There is no right or wrong way to draw a snowman, but I did think straddling two cultures means never quite getting it right even for a ninhongo speaking gaijin. 
Three balls for an American Snowman 
Two balls for a Yukidaruma or Japanese Snowman
Yukidaruma & the table has omochi piled like a snowman
This snowman looks like he's wearing a glass helmut 
Two balls
I loved this snowman's boots, but still only two balls

Monday, November 28, 2011

Worms & Waffles

My husband and I dislike being away from our families at Christmas. Since we can't go home, we thought to spend the holiday frolicking in the snow. Happiness is someone else cooking, fresh powder, a hot onsen, and being outside- our favorite ski resort seemed the perfect place. However, booking rooms during the school holiday turned out to be difficult. Finally, today, the travel agent confirmed the flights and the rooms.

Before dinner we had the, "I lost my mittens" trauma, followed by the, "I hate homework," protests, followed by, "you are a bad mama," since I pointed out that there is no more TV after seven in the evening on a school night which is a problem when you take until six to get your homework done and then have to eat your dinner. Oh, and there was also the, "there is a worm in my rice" nightmare (American rice) which required a new dinner preparation consisting of frozen waffles. I tried joking about protein and told them about Papillion who survived because he ate bugs when the French prison tried to starve him and because he had a friend who helped him. After further questioning and discussion, the two of them felt sad about Papi leaving his friend behind on the island so we made up that he went back to visit his friend a la Mr. Rogers.

Finally, the homework was done, the TV was off, and dinner was being eaten, when I said, "We're going to spend Christmas in Hokkaido! You can play in the snow, build a snowman, go skiing...." The response, "What? We're not going to be home for Christmas? We can't leave our tree! Why did we get a tree if we aren't going to be here?" This was followed by, "Oh, no! Santa is not going to find us! What are we going to do? We need to write Santa a note! Get a piece of paper!"

When my husband came home, he went up to kiss the munsters and found the Mule sobbing away in her bed- about the tree being left alone and being away at Christmas. I had no idea the trip would cause this much distress. We're going to wait to see how things shake out tomorrow in the light of day, but we may need to rethink our Christmas getaway. Who knew?

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Nobu's Cooking: seriously beautiful food

I woke up dreaming of pâté de campagne. It was that good. Nobu's cooking is flavorful, hearty, and yet I felt like I was eating a cloud when I tasted the mousse de poivron rouge avec consommé en gelée (roasted red pepper mousse with jelly for my fellow Americans)- so soft, so delicate. 


A lot of time and preparation goes into this kind of food.  I know because I watched Nobu spend the day in my kitchen prepping for the evening's tasting event. BlackCat delivered  some things he had prepared in Tokyo as well as the seafood from his vendor at Tsukiji Fish Market. This is the kind of food that I like to eat when I go to a restaurant because I can't cook it- no time, no skill, and no patience.


We hosted a tasting party having no idea what Nobu planned for us. At first we stood about the table thinking we would nibble this and taste that, an hour later, I got the chairs. This was serious eating, and we were not fully prepared for it- the table was a hodge podge of plates and glasses with chopsticks and spoons every which way, cans and bottles littered the scene, candles were melting, and trays were in the way. We tried eleven dishes and five bottles of wine- too much for one night, but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for tasting everyday food laboriously prepared and transformed into something wholly new.

My favorite dish was the homard en croûte (lobster wrapped in pastry), but then I love pastry and lobster so it doesn't get much better than that for me. The boeuf à la Bourguignonne melted in your mouth. His yuzukoshō saucisson, handmade chicken sausages with yuzu peel and spicy peppers singed my mouth in a pleasant way and made me think of beer. His etuvée de légumes aux demux coriandres was al dente and subtle. The slabs of pâté de campagne were so good that I think he should sell it for the holidays- a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, a jar of cornichons,  a few slices of pâté de campagne, and a tarte in a basket! That could keep him busy until the restaurant can open, and then the rest of us would have our tastebuds singing with joy, and I could get my basket delivered! 

This morning Fu and Nobu returned to Tokyo to focus on restaurant renovations. The pot of bouillabaisse was left behind. At lunch I marveled, again, at the depth of flavor and the heartiness of the soup with it's chunks of fish, shrimp, scallop, and mussels. It was so beautiful, the soup, that I thought of it like a great wonder as it slipped past my taste buds and soaked into the bread. This is food so beautiful, it could make you cry.

We will visit the restaurant which will open within a month's time in Hatagaya, two stations away from Shinjuku. I hope this post will inspire some of you to seek out Bistrot Nobu. Please enjoy the photos which do not do justice to the wondrous tastes of Nobu's cooking. The joy of food; the beauty of Nobu's cooking. I was really impressed. Bon appétit!

Bistrot Nobu: 105  2-9-12 Hatagaya Shibuya-ku, TokyoTel:  03 6300 9373 Homepage: http://bistrotnobu.monkut.webfactional.com/Link/about_english.html

Mousse de Poivron Rouge avec Consommé en Gelée Bistrot Nobu Tasting
Bouillabaisse Bistrot Nobu Tasting 
Homard en croûte Bistrot Nobu Tasting 
Nobu cooking in our kitchen for the Bistrot Nobu Tasting party
Boeuf à la Bourguignonne Bistrot Nobu Tasting 
Pâté de Campagne Bistrot Nobu Tasting 
Rôti de Porc et épinards avec gnocchi Bistrot Nobu Tasting 
Yuzukoshō Saucisson Bistrot Nobu Tasting
Etuvée de légumes aux deux coriandres Bistrot Nobu Tasting
Choucroute Garnie Bistrot Nobu Tasting
Crème caramel Bistrot Nobu Tasting

Friday, November 25, 2011

Feeling Thankful

A box of chocolates from the Chicago area
Tonight felt like Thanksgiving. We had friends over for dinner. We drank wine and had roast beef, roasted potatoes, greenbeans, chocolates and chocolate mousse for dessert. The children were sleeping. God bless friends. We all need them even if they are just a few. Friends are the difference between savage and domestic. My husband's roasted angus beef was superb accompanied by crispy lard saited roasted potatoes and a lovely zinfandel which took me by surprise with its sophistication. Wine is a gift from nature to us wee heathens assuming we have avoided becoming alcoholics. Sincerely a benefit of my husband's months on call at a time is that we have managed to become tea totalers otherwise known as easy drunks. My husband doubted my choice of prosecco asking upon what knowledge was the selection based? Truly, it was based on that nifty label, but it was a good- dry, crisp.

Holidays are not for meals, don't get me wrong, food is important, but holidays are about companionship and comraderie. I saw it in my husband's face today. He spoke with his parents and brother over the internet. Afterward, he was silent and withdrawn. He wanted to be there. Hours later, he said so.

Don't go out. Even if you fry balogna. It is about cooking and being together. A clan at home is better than the best food in a restaurant. Holidays are for friends and family. For your health, visit with each other. Find a way to accept the differences and be grateful for the chance to be.

The next day, you can find a restaurant if only for you. To push your tastebuds into new horizons. You need to be haunted, hounded by a taste.

What do you smell? What is on your upper lip? Go out my friend, you need a new taste to wake up your smile. Stay home my friend, drink a cup of tea and sigh, "there's no place like home."

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Toast

School Holiday
Today is a Japanese holiday so my children were off from school. My husband has an American work schedule so he is at work, still, even though it is 9:28 p.m. (and folks wonder why I have time to write). Tomorrow is an American holiday, Thanksgiving. Our children will go to school, and we will go on a lunch date and most likely eat burritos for dinner- turkey isn't high on our childrens's favorite dinner list.


Lugging Home a Christmas Tree
Today, having several Christmas packages to mail, I suggested we "have lunch with Dada" and "do some Christmas shopping." We came home with a seven foot Christmas tree in our car which is maybe eight feet long. It took a lot of effort to stuff that tree into our car, however, at the base a young shop woman helped me get the tree into the car. At home, the munsters helped me get it out. I wish I had a movie camera of the three of us tugging and pulling the tree out of the car. I had to suppress a laugh when they started chanting, "Wasshoi!" as we marched in time hauling the tree like the shrine bearers do when moving the portable shrines in summer. It was like the dwarves whistling while they worked, a happy moment.


Toast for Thanksgiving
The munsters did not want to leave the tree outside on the porch. "It's so sad to leave it outside," they protested. "Oh, it's happy that we brought it home," I reassured them. I suggested they watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. "Oh, the one with the philgrims," said the Moose. "Pilgrims," I corrected. In the effort to get the Apple TV and stereo to work, the lonely tree was forgotten and left in a bucket to soak up water.  While I was distracted with dinner and putting things away, the munsters managed to watch two thanksgiving specials- the one with the pilgrims and the one with toast- as well as the Christmas special. Now there is a thought, how about toast for Thanksgiving? We could do that, everyone around here likes toast.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Temptation

Temptation

Jesus spent forty nights in the desert. During this time he was tempted by the devil. Each time he resisted, he was nourished by angels. In the bathtub tonight, the Moose was tempted- tempted by my razor. He shaved his right leg, well, mostly he cut up his knee and removed some skin. He then spent twenty minutes applying bandages (they kept sticking to the wrong spots) while wearing his underwear backwards. I pointed out that he might want to straighten out his pants for comfort's sake. He did. I then found him tying tourniquets, three of them to be precise, onto his afflicted leg. I suggested he not sleep with them on since it would impede his circulation. "Oh, yeah, circulation," he said. Then I asked as he got into some pajamas, "What tempted you to shave tonight?" "Oh, I just thought I would try it out," he said. "What do you think?" I asked hoping he had learned something. He was quiet. I tried another tactic, parenting is a war of attrition after all, "How does that feel?" I asked pointing to his injured leg. "Not so good. I don't think I should do that," he said. "Do what? Not shave?" I asked. "Yeah, not shave," he said. "Do you know what shaving is for?" I asked. He sat there looking at me so I told him, "It's for removing hair. Do you have any hair on your leg?" "No, not really," he responded. "Yeah, I don't think you really need to shave. You can always ask me, if you get tempted or if it's a good idea," I said as if he could think of that during his moment of trial.


Levels of Sanity

My husband reminded me that Bill Cosby sold a lot of recordings with the story about his son shaving his head with a reverse mohawk and his "I dunno" refrain. Mostly I anticipate wearing myself out by the end of the Moose's childhood. The Mule, ever the night owl, asked me well into bedtime, "What would you do if you had three boys mama?" My response, "Go crazy." I guess that means I am still sane then if I consider that as a point of reference.

I don't mean to disparage the Moose, he is a most loving child. Each morning as he departs for school, I get kissed and hugged and told, "Have a good day Mama." The Mule trots out the door with a hand wave and a, "Bye Mama!" Tonight I stirred the hornet's nest by taking the Moose Christmas shopping, two shops, while the Mule was at her hula lesson. I threw off his routine and thus his equilibrium. I really must try to be a better mama- focus on the kid at hand instead of my to do list.


Tempted by a shelf

My day also had an unexpected errand. I had to drive to the onsen to pick up my husband's wedding ring. He left it in a locker. My husband was surprised I wasn't upset about the lost ring. I was more interested in what tempted him to put the ring into the locker. He said, "I noticed this nice shelf on the side, just small enough for my watch, cross, and cufflinks. I don't know why I took my wedding ring off- I normally don't, but the shelf just looked so perfect; I put everything on it. Plus it was really high. I mean, I remembered to get my other stuff, it was just the ring- I didn't see it."

Thankfully, we live in Japan, where people are generally shorter than my husband and they do not take things they do not own. At first, the onsen staff said they couldn't find the ring. I asked them, "Please look again on the high shelf, in the tray, my husband is tall." They found it. I should also throw in I was impressed that my husband remembered his locker number. I never remember my locker number, but then I never put my jewelry on a shelf in a locker. The Moose gets it honest- the temptation thing. I just have to remember to swoop in with nourishment (praise?) when they actually resist something.


Taming a Moose

Quite often when the Moose has done something like shave his leg or cut his shirt while he is wearing it with a pair of scissors to see what it looks like, he will tell me, "I was just too tempted Mama." My husband tells me to not squash the "in the momentness" of the Moose. I struggle mightily some days to not loose my cool with the Moose and his temptations, but on other days I have to hide my laughter at the impossibility of taming this particular Moose.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Sounds, Harleys, & Protestors

It is unseasonably warm. It rained all day and into the night. I awoke to an uncertain sound, feeling too warm at three in the morning. From an open window, I searched for the cause of the whirring- expecting a machine or a car. It was the sound of water coursing down the hillsides, in a hurry, to the beach. Each raindrop returning to its source. Perhaps we too are like that- living our separate lives but eventually uniting in the end. Mm, all of that water rushing is so loud, but I leave the window open hoping for a reprieve from the still air.

This morning I watched protestors being pepper sprayed by the police on a college campus on Youtube.com. It saddened me to see this show of force in America toward protestors kneeling and sitting. Here in Japan, we pass by Japanese men riding Harleys- one even sporting an American flag. Harleys, blue jeans, leather jackets, and boots- all part of the iconic American image of the rebel, loner, going against the grain, against the man.



Passing a Japanese seatbelt trap, the blue clad officers wearing white helmets motion with tommy sticks for drivers to pull off the road. The Japanese police work in teams- a spotter who signals the others which cars to pull over, another motions cars where to park, another interrogates the driver, and another stands back in the distance usually near a police van. From the vantage of a balcony, I once saw a woman beat on the head of her teenage son while an officer wrote her a ticket for a seatbelt infraction- clearly the son had failed to wear his. I thought it was interesting that she resorted to whacking him on the head in front of the officer since I've not seen children even spanked in this country.

Rushing waters, a protest, and a seatbelt trap collide in my thoughts- all that energy draining us of meaning, compelling us to comply. If we have no thoughts of our own, if we only seek to do what is asked of us, if we accept the guidance of our leaders, we risk washing away our own moral sense. Better strap on some cowboy boots and saddle up your Harley, there is something to stand up for even if it is only to say that peaceful protestors have the right to stand their ground without being afflicted with chemicals.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Walking by a Cemetery in the Rain

"Look at the beautiful puddle!" said the Mule as she got out of the car and happily plodded through the water in her rain shoes. That twist of perception about a puddle opened my eyes to puddles today.

Later, walking home in the gusty wind and constant rain, I took a short cut through the grounds of a Buddhist temple. Fallen momiji maple leaves were floating in a puddle in the grey overcast light of afternoon; it seemed extraordinarily beautiful in that moment- perhaps influenced by the Mule's morning comment. The puddle seemed so never before here- a fleeting moment of beauty- it freed me from ruminating on my to do activities.

I glanced at the tombstone markers on which I normally do not dwell, for once I let my thoughts be. I began contemplating my epitaph: what would mine say? I came up with this, Here lies the human body of a soul that was grateful for her moment. I thought it was pretty good, that I should write it down, but then I came home with only my feet, encased in rubber boots, being dry. There were things to put away, tea to drink, games to play- the thought was lost amongst the busyness.

Later, awaiting bathing children, I scrolled through Facebook and saw the quote "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." Reminding me of my earlier thought so I wrote it down because with the weight of C. S. Lewis it still seemed appropriately appropriate.  Death motivates some toward unfinished business, but for me it made me think about beauty and how much more is there if only we see it. There is a part of me that wishes I could capture the fleeting nature of beauty in all it's guises. As when I heard the Moose singing Free Fallin' while his dad played guitar tonight- his small body perched at the end of my bed, swinging a sword, singing with a soulful voice that carried the tune, and his utmost shyness demonstrated by him rarely singing around us anymore, but the tune caught him and the moment was beautiful. I wish I could see things this way all of the time.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Ten Bucks

The Deal

In the middle of a story I stopped abruptly and said, "I'll give you five bucks if you put yourselves to bed." The Mule hightailed it to their room followed by the Moose. I turned off the lamp and snuggled into the covers surprised by my success. I heard the Moose say from his bed, "I can't go to sleep without a hug and a kiss!" I thought I'm doomed, I'll have to get up anyway. He came into my room and gave me a hug and a kiss, asking, "Do I still get my five bucks?" "Un huh," was my tired response. I had contemplated letting them sleep with me until I got inspired by the five bucks. I told my husband in the morning. I didn't remember him calling or coming home, but he said, "Mule already told me." Later he told me not to "bribe" them again. I was desperate what can say.


Ten Bucks

I bought a bag of lemon rinds for ten bucks today. I misunderstood the sign- I thought the bags were five bucks, at the cash register I learned otherwise. I shrugged thinking back to my prior evening's bargain. Ten bucks doesn't go so far these days. But still, five years ago if you would have told me that I would spend ten dollars on lemon rinds or on getting my children to go to bed, I would have said, "no way!" Yuzu peel to be precise is a family favorite. My kids ate my stash. Perhaps Santa needs some stocking stuffers? You can't easily find yuzu peel since it's a seasonal item like most everything else in Japan.

I did some preliminary Christmas shopping tonight while the kiddos were swimming. It seemed kind of lonely to shop for the holidays by myself so I stopped for a treat. I am working on getting fat again- that is what happens when I am not stressed. Just in time for winter fashions except I swear it is seventy degrees out! What is up with the weather this year?

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Third Thursday in November

Third Thursday of November is for Beaujolais Nouveau
"Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé!" It is good to take part in the rituals of life. Drinking the new wine of the harvest on the third Thursday of November is a tradition in France, and I am happy to report, in this corner of Japan as well, thanks to my swanky friends who happen to have a friend in the wine business.

Last year I skipped the event but then regretted my decision. Frivolous moments are few and far between in the daily grind. Kendo Mama hosted potluck, giving each of us instructions to, "bring something that goes with wine." In my case, however, she did ask for chocolate cake. This morning I cracked open my ever favorite cake cookbook, Warm Bread and Honey Cake and started baking. The chocolate cake tasted great, but Ms. Pagrach-Chandra cooks in a warm house. My house was so cold that the chocolate I had melted solidified before I could mix it into the batter- it happened that quick! I had the same problem with the boiled chocolate frosting. I am saddened by the cake's picture.
Chocolate Cake with Boiled Chocolate Frosting
Next time I will wait to make the frosting until just before I need it so that I can have the glossy shiny frosting that I did make on the cake. Next year I hope to live in a warm house too- you know one with insulation and double hung windows that keep the heat inside instead of leaking out of all of the crevices.
This is how Boiled Chocolate Frosting should look on the cake!
Tis a lovely thing when a day includes wine and chocolate cake and all of the other delectable treats the mamas prepared. This is an annual tradition I don't plan to skip again. 
Kampai!

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Washi Decorations

A friend recently introduced me to making crafts with washi paper. It is made in Japan wa and by hand shi from fibers found in the leaves and stems of the mulberry tree along with fibers from the mitsumata bush and the bark of the gampi tree. It is very strong and extremely durable and yet it feels soft almost like a cloth. Documents written on washi paper still exist from 1,300 years ago.  Washi paper comes in many colors and designs and has many uses in Japanese life. I love textiles generally and so the paper's palette and variety of patterns appealed to me. I had thought the paper was just for origami.

Japanese washi paper comes in a variety of colors and patterns
Turning washi paper into an ornament requires a base. My friend used eggshells and strung them through their middles with gold thread. To acquire the eggshells one must blow the egg out of a tiny hole. Being a novice crafter, the first time, I shook the eggs and shook the eggs to get them cleaned out- it took a while. Instead I'd recommend the following.

Rinse the eggs (shells) before you start. Room temperature eggs (meaning warmer eggs) are easier to puncture. Use a pin or skewer to poke a hole. Hold the pin or skewer in place while holding the egg, then gently tap it like a nail with an object- I used a kitchen knife. Go through the egg and out the opposite end if using a skewer or flip and tap again if using a pin. There may be eggshell chips to remove. Assuming you've pierced the yolk, put the egg up to your mouth and blow (which is why I suggest rinsing them first). Blow the contents into a bowl to collect for a recipe. Rinse the egg and blow out the water. Store the egg in the egg carton and collect a dozen for a rainy day when you have some time to decorate them. You could also use paper mache balls from a craft store, but the point here is handmade.

Poke a hole with a skewer or pin and tap gently through
Supplies needed: washi paper 6" x 6" per eggshell, blown eggshells, ruler, flexible tape measurer, pencil, white glue or mod podge, scissors, paintbrush, and shellac or varnish.

When you've collected your eggshells to decorate, you have to measure them with a tape measure (flexible kind)- length: top to bottom, and width: circumference around the widest part. Measure in centimeters. Using a pencil, mark these measurements onto your egg. Label your egg and your paper too such as A, B, C, etc. if you are doing several at a time so that you can easily match your egg to your paper.
Write the measurements on your egg and code to correlate with a piece of paper
Fold washi paper in half, making a rectangle with the open end being the top and the fold being the bottom. Using a ruler and your egg's measurements, mark off with a pencil on the white side of the paper: starting from the bottom fold (because it is folded) go up to the measurement that is half of the length of your egg (from the top to the bottom of the egg divided by 2) and then going across the paper the width (all the way around the widest part of the egg). Cut the paper along these marks (still folded); it will look like a rectangle.

Create a pattern from the paper to cover your egg. Using a ruler and pencil, mark a dot at the half centimeter (0.5 cm) measurement along the top and keep going across marking each centimeter thereafter with a dot- these will be the top of the arch points. Using a ruler and pencil, draw a line one centimeter (1 cm) up from the bottom fold, across the paper. Then mark off every centimeter going across this bottom line with a dot. You are making a pattern to cover your egg. The line going across prevents you from cutting through the paper. Starting from the bottom line's edge, draw arches: go up to the first mark at the top (that half centimeter indent) then down to the one centimeter mark on the line and then back up all the way across- it will look like a series of arches or a picket fence.
Washi paper markings for an egg (unfolded)
With the paper folded, cut along the arches you drew, rounding them out a bit. Sharp angles will leave gaps when you attach it to the egg whereas rounded arches will overlap and cover the egg better. Do not cut through the one centimeter line across the bottom- just down to it.
Washi paper is folded and cut out
Cut out all of the papers you plan to do. Be sure to tag each paper and eggshell so that you can match them when you are ready to do the gluing part.

Glue the paper onto the eggs with mod podge or white craft glue. In Japan a bit of rice glue is added, but a shopkeeper assured me that any combination of glue will work. My friend thinned her glue with a few drops of water. If you have a large opening hole on your eggshell, add a chip or two of your paper cuttings to the top, apply a dab of glue to the paper and then place covering the edges of the hole- use two or three small triangle shaped chips as needed. This is also the time to insert string if you wish to hang your eggs later. Make a loop and tuck both ends into the egg and secure by gluing a bit of washi paper onto the string, then allow to dry.

Apply glue to the backside (white side) of the washi paper- a brush or sponge may be helpful. Place the egg in the center of the paper insuring that the edges meet, the arches will be at the top and at the bottom. Smooth paper from the center up and the center down. Fold down the top flaps and then the bottom ones- insure that your egg is covered.  Use a bamboo chopstick or the backside of a spoon to smooth out the paper- start from the center, stroke the paper in an outward direction to press air bubbles and wrinkles as needed. Aim for smooth paper. Allow to dry completely.

Coat the dry egg with varnish or shellac. Allow to dry, repeat 4 to 10 times. Several layers will add shine and hide imperfections in the paper wrapping.
Washi Egg
Covering a lot of eggs takes time and with all of that measuring it is not so easy for young children. However, using the same techniques, a child could cover a drawing tablet for a sibling using sheets or cut out pieces of the washi paper for a personalized gift. A plain brown book could be used for this purpose.
Try covering a notebook for a simpler gift idea
Steps in summary for making a washi egg:
1.  Prep the egg
(a) Rinse it
(b) poke a hole in it
(c) blow the innards out; rinse again
(d) set aside to dry.

2. Measure the egg in centimeters and record on the egg with a pencil
(a) length- top to bottom only, then divide number in half for marking your paper
(b) width around the widest part of the egg

3. Cut the paper
(a) fold paper in half with white side out & open part at the top
(b) mark off the width of your egg horizontally going across
(c) from the bottom fold go up half of the length (top to bottom/2)
(d) cut the paper (still folded) as you have measured it- it will look like a rectangle.

4. Cut the arches
(a) Draw a horizontal line across your paper 1cm above the fold
(b) along this horizontal line, mark a dot every 1cm starting from the edge
(c) along the top (where it is open) horizontal edge, mark dots starting 0.5 cm from the edge and then every 1cm thereafter
(d) Draw an arch starting from the edge of the horizontal line 1cm along the bottom up to the top dot a the 0.5cm mark at the top, continue down to the next 1cm mark along the bottom so that you have an arch every 1cm until the edge
(e) cut the paper arches, keeping the tops rounded to insure good coverage when the flaps are folded onto the egg.

5. Insert string, if you want to hang them
(a) insert string into center of the egg- tuck both ends into the egg so that you have a loop on the outside 
(b) using chips from the paper, glue around the string to secure it
(c) allow to dry

6. Glue paper onto the egg
(a) unfold the paper
(b) place glue on white side of paper
(c) place egg into center of paper- flaps will be at the top and bottom
(d) press the paper onto the egg- first going around the center and then by folding the arches or fingers onto the top and bottom of the egg until covered
(e) smooth out the paper gently using a chopstick going up or down from the center of the egg
(f) allow to dry completely.

7. Varnish the egg and allow to dry, repeat until it is as shiny as you like.



Chocolate Biscotti with Almonds

Chocolate Biscotti with Almonds
My thrill with biscotti has not abated. Tonight I made the chocolate version. They are so lovely and crunchy. I cook mine to the max time because I like the crunch. It seems my family actually likes them as well. My love of baking does not correlate with what my children love to eat. They have been in Japan too long perhaps as their sweet tooths exists at a subtle level- biscotti seems to work.

Chocolate Biscotti with Almonds:
Whole Almonds, 150 gm
Flour, 180 gm
Cornstarch, 20 gm
Baking Powder, 1 tsp
Cocoa Powder, 2 TbspSugar, 100 gm
Eggs, 2, mixed together

Roast almonds at 150ºC (300ºF) for about 10 minutes until crunchy. Remove from oven and cool down. Sift together: flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and cocoa powder; repeat- sifting twice. Whisk in sugar. Whisk together eggs and pour into flour mixture. Using a spatula, cut egg mixture into flour until all of the flour is moistened and clumping together forming a kind of dough. Add almonds and distribute evenly. Form dough into a large rectangle approximately 4" x 10"; press down to insure even thickness throughout. Bake on parchment paper lined baking sheet at 170ºC (340ºF) for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and cut into 1 1/2  cm (2/3") diagonal slices. Bake slices at 150ºC (300ºF) for 12 to 15 minutes until crunchy. Remove to cooling rack. Keep in air tight container.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Biscotti with Almonds

I spent part of my day folding newspapers into a samurai outfit, another part of it hanging laundry, and another part of it making shepherd's pie. Even though I made pie and had leftovers for pie rolls, thanks to that cookbook I recently finished for Nansai Sensei, I had a hankering for crunchy biscotti with almonds. My husband said I could make them again.
Biscotti with Almonds
Biscotti with Almonds
Whole Almonds, 150 gm
Flour, 180 gm
Cornstarch, 20 gm
Baking Powder, 1 tsp
Sugar, 100 gm
Eggs, 2, mixed together
Lemon peel, from 1 lemon or 1 tsp

Roast almonds at 150ºC (300ºF) for about 10 minutes until crunchy. Remove from oven and cool down. Sift together: flour, cornstarch, and baking powder; repeat. Whisk in sugar and lemon peel. Whisk together eggs and pour into flour mixture. Using a spatula, cut egg mixture into flour until all of the flour is moistened and clumping together forming a kind of dough. Add almonds and distribute evenly. Form dough into a large rectangle approximately 4" x 10"; press down to insure even thickness throughout. Bake on parchment paper lined baking sheet at 170ºC (340ºF) for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and cut into 1 1/2  cm (2/3") diagonal slices. Bake slices at 150ºC (300ºF) for 12 to 15 minutes until crunchy. Remove to cooling rack. Keep in air tight container.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Trains, Chow, & Samurai

The electronic sign reads, "Please switch off your mobile phone when near priority seating. In other areas please set to silent mode and refrain from talking." The train is quiet. Passengers are either asleep like the five people sitting  across from me or reading very small books that fit into one hand like the other two people. The overwhelming wardrobe choice is dark whether it is black, grey, or navy, everyone is wearing muted dark colors. The lone splash of pink punctuates a young woman's outfit while a red scarf is sported by an older woman. The escalator ride up is long. You have to walk if you are on the right so I stand on the left and take the picture below. I am mesmerized by the people; there are so many of them scurrying here and there: quiet, polite, but on the move. Later in the afternoon, I spot the school children on their way home. In Japan, children use public transportation to go to and from school, to get around Tokyo, and to attend after school lessons- no one bats an eye at them, no one bothers them, and, no, they are not with their parents.

Today's excursion was to the place where our friends will soon open their restaurant tentatively titled Bistrot Nobu. Currently, it is a sushi bar which will move to Ebisu at month's end. The chef was kind enough to allow us a peek while he was prepping for the evening's customers. We had thought to have lunch there but they are only open in the evenings which worked for me because I am more of a fried fish kind of fish eater. We ate a lovely meal at a French restaurant, Cyrano de Bergerac, mine being carrot soup; pork with mustard sauce, fried potatoes, and apples; and a lovely chestnut tart all of which I gobbled up before I thought to take a photo. Their tea was even French. 

On the way to the future restaurant a sword shop with an over two hundred year old Samurai outfit for sale in the window was irresistible. I am sure the Moose will give the restaurant rave reviews just for location- being located near a Samurai outfit that is. I am excited for our friends! Lunch in Tokyo was a nice trip on a rainy day, but I am really glad I missed rush hour.
Escalators in Japan: walk on the right, stand on the left 
This is not even rush hour in Shinjuku Station (Japan)
School children on their way home 
Samurai gear for sale- +200 years old
Loved this image of the fish- draining?
The Sushi Chef prepping for the evening
The restaurant soon to be Bistrot Nobu

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Observing Depth in a Quilt Show

The Yokohama International Quilt Show 2011 opened today. For textile fans there was plenty of eye candy and for crafty folks projects to buy and inspiration galore. For the gaijin crowd, the lack of English explanations for the Japanese crafts may slow you down, but with lots of pictures I hope to remember some semblance of them later. I am not so crafty, but I do love fabric, purses, and color; there was plenty of all three on display. The third dimension of depth was featured in many of the purses- see photos below. There was even a quilted moose statue with a Christmas tree nearby filled with moose ornaments.

My favorite part was asking questions of Inge Mardal. Photos were not permitted of the quilts she and her husband, Steen Hougs, make. They start with plain fabric and use fabric paint to paint pictures and then she quilts them by machine. Their work is exquisite, and with thirty-one quilts on display, a true feast for the eyes. She told us that she does not plan a thing! "Otherwise it would be too boring." She also said, "If I can do this, anyone can." But their unique vision is something no one else has. So much beauty in all of that fabric- awaiting sewing needles everywhere.

A striking quilt from the Japanese section
Purse with 3D webbing design
This is made from tatami matting edging material- just lovely!
Quilted purse with 3D flowers
I loved the peekaboo of the color with the 3D effect
I loved the onni & bought the kit- wishing I had gotten the kitty too!
It was crowded
This purse was quilted with cotton yarn- gorgeous!
Moose ornament
Quilted Moose Statue
A lovely quilt- I liked the colors as well