The second half of Monday we went to Sensoji, the home of one of the oldest and famous temples in Japan. As is the case with rampant tourism, there grew around it a veritable city of shops and stalls, hawking all sorts of wares. Our reasonable expectation was, go during sundown, it'd be far less busy, then we'd just buy random food from stalls for our dinner. This was all good in theory.
However.
Sundown meant all the stalls were closing, or at least, it seemed, all the food stalls. We wandering up and down and down and up with no food in sight.
We did manage to get some matcha ice cream, my family is apparently all into matcha now even though I've been drinking matcha as my Stimulant of Choice for like 2 years. You're nerdy dad using a can of matcha from Costco? Ew, matcha.
See matcha ice cream and pancakes and candybars in Japan and now it's cool. It's like middle aged nerd dads aren't cool anymore or something.
But still we searched for actual food. Up and down and down and up to the point that my partner was on the verge of giving up, all she wanted was some sort of meat on a stick.
You have to admire that sort of culinary focus. So I took the lead, instructing Google Maps to find us the closest meat on a stick. 15m walk away, apparently.
Along the way we bought all sorts of fried foods, never knowing when our next meal would be. In Tokyo, where the most I've ever walked is half a block before seeing another food option. I think the Temple area closing for the day left us scarred and a little bit jumpy in the food department.
We got croquettes, various types of meats in panko breading and fried, we got some sort of sweet glutinous ball (dongo) thing in fermented soy sauce. I know what you are thinking but yes, soy sauce, fermented in and of itself, has an alternative, also, maybe, MORE fermented, and sweetened. And then used to sweeten these glutinous balls. Again, my daughter's idea. The family tried and then filed that away for "Have tried this, for the last time". Maybe I'm used to Asian desserts, or in general, glutinous balls covered in some sort of unidentifiable sauce and sold as dessert. Used to it, maybe even welcome it?
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| Dongo |
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This is not the place, it just
looked cool |
So, we finally arrive at this meat on a stick place. And it looks local enough to be too daunting for us to try and order there. The absolute lack of any English in any signs is enough to get us a bit squirrelly about the whole proposition. That and Google maps is deciding to be vague about things and we are trying to match the photos in Google maps with what we are seeing ("wait, is the door over here, but the bar is on this side with a sliding door behind it"). I have a worry that we are going to walk into a place that serves exclusively Wagyu steak and Wagyu steak accessories and now we are too embarrassed to leave and have just blown out entire food budget for the week.
But what with the constant snacking on the way there, we weren't starving. And we turned around, to return to the temple we just checked out.
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Not Sushiro, just another place
that looked entirely too cool
for us |
Somehow on the way back we decide that, actually, we do want to eat. One of my buddies who had taught English here (what North American/European doesn't have a friend who has taught English in Japan, though), recommended that I don't need to go to some Michelin star restaurant to have some good food, Sushiro is a chain that serves perfectly acceptable sushi. Two things of note: I've never had Michelin tires let alone been to a Michelin star restaurant; and when he says 'chain', I assume a smooth and easy transition for us tourists. A bubbly yet inscrutable mascot, combos with numbers you can just point at; small children throwing food, world weary employees with a dead stare but company approved cheerful demeanor taking orders.
The first warning sign: the restaurants sign was completely in Japanese. No small print translation in English, no ceding to the tourist horde that descend upon Japan every day. This was a chain, but it was a chain for locals, clearly. And then there was the thing with locations that continues to trip us up, the restaurant was not on the ground floor but a few floors up. Above a Uniqlo. Which I imagine describes the location of at least 30% of all restaurants in Japan, now that I think about it.
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| Not a single mascot in sight |
We get there, and shuffle in with only mild trepidation into the waiting room. As is the general theme in the restaurants we've been to, there have been efforts to automate out any human interaction. The part of me that knows maybe 15 words in Japanese and those, not really well, this makes me happy. As someone who thinks he would like a more authentic Japanese experience, well, I guess I am, actually.
We have to navigate a menu screen to acknowledge our arrival. From a hurried glance of watching someone else interact with it, there is not a single word of English in sight. My partner had wandered off to check out the temple some more, so it's just me and the kids.
Me and the kids retreat further into the waiting room to contemplate our next action. Somehow thinking a bit of strategizing about the screen and the series of unknowns in front of us will make it easier. There is safety in indecision, we think. Also hunger.
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| My kids, not starving. |
Travel for most folks is about seeing new things, new experiences, for me it's for me to exercise just the most middle class milquetoast form of bravery so my kids don't go hungry. This is one of those times. We march up to the screen and oh lucky for us there is a 'English' button hidden amongst the scattering of buttons and options and options for options. It's simple, you just select few options, get a ticket, and wait for the ticket to show up and get your seat. This is the sort of system that's going to replace the Blinking Not Blinking Sometimes Blinking light system from that ramen place, I'm sure.
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| The ketchup is a dead give away |
We get to our seat and the ordering system is via tablet. Which is all well and good, but they underestimate my ability to get confused, I get the kids some food and promptly get a kids combo for myself because interfaces are tricky; for me, anyways.
My partner joins us because of some sneakily obtained candids I took of the kids laughing and having a good time. FOMO for parents is missing out on their kids having a good time.
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| The way back |
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| All done commercing for the day |
We finish our meal and go check out the temple now that's it's dark. In writing these blog posts and editing them, I realize this is a common theme. See the thing. Then see the thing at night. In our defense, it's always been a good call.
It's really quite stunning. This is a Buddhist temple honoring a deity that a fisherman found a statue of? It was in the sea, he pulled it out, but it's never been displayed (or seen?) and is housed, unseen, in that temple.
Ok, Google Translate really helps to put things in perspective. Seeing all those Japanese characters, the mind wonders. What are those? Special blessings, some mysterious sign? Why? What? How?! But invariably, it's mundane and grounding and a reminder we're all pretty dang similar. One of those larger signs that looked like an announcement of the Apocalypse was something to the effect of "If you would like your prayers added to next Tuesday's ceremonies, please see the front desk".
I'm sure one of those signs said "if you are visiting near dusk, your meal options will be limited".
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