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rest of bangalore to come

Shopping: The Universal Language (Bangalore 3)

Sunday, our first semi-official day of the school portion of the trip, was devoted to the age old pastime of shopping. Emboldened by a lavish western-style breakfast at the hotel, 5 of us set out for FabIndia, the gap-like purveyor of modern, inexpensive Indian fashions. Given our desire to experience the “real” Bangalore before moving into our air-conditioned luxury bus for the meeting portion of the trip, we decided to autorickshaw it.

Autorickshaws, for those who haven't had the pleasure, are similar to the pedicabs that have taken over US cities, but are instead powered by a nasty smelling contraption, not an eager young entrepreneur. They have bright yellow awnings and space for three to squeeze in the back, with an open railing on one side. Middle seats are advised – let the others wedge you in.

These claptrap vehicles were not allowed up to our hotel's grand entrance, so we went wandering out to the dirt street, where we shared the road with the inevitable cows and kiosks. Once negotiations for transport were complete – we overpaid (I hate taxi haggling) we were off to the races. Or as off to the races as you can be when the driver stops every 10 feet to ask other drivers where he is going. At one point, we involved a friendly pedestrian to call the store and get directions. Not quite Google maps.

Once we got there, however, the hassle was totally worth it. FabIndia itself is two houses a few doors apart, overflowing with cotton and silk goods in every color. Ascending the stairs was like stepping into colorful clothing candyland. Piling our arms high with tunics, kurtas and selwar kameez in every color, we proceeded to try on every item in the store between the five of us. 2 hours later, finally sated, we got out of there at a decent price. I love some things about India.

After our orgy of consumerism, we decided to walk a few blocks to an Indo-Chinese local restaurant someone had found. Walking down the dirt street, I was struck by the similarity to Nairobi (a sentiment shared by the other Africa hand on the trip). It had the same feel of localness and bootstrapping that I remember from the walk between our Westlands office and the Kenyan cafeteria where we would often have lunch. The buildings had the air of slight disrepair that I associate with hot weather and the rainy season. And it came complete with the fun of haggling with autorickshaw drivers for the ride home – some things really are common in all emerging cities!

Vaguely remembering Hindu Epics (Bangalore 2)

I may have triumphed o'er jetlag on Friday night, but given my sleeplessness from 3-6 AM last night, I have yet to win the war. Key takeaway – I need more physical activity than a day in the car shuttling around Bangalore involves. Alas, given the degree of traffic in this city, that might be difficult.

Saturday started with another amazing homemade breakfast by A's mother, and a birthday party for his adorable two year old nephew. We then trundled off to our hotel, the Royal Orchid, The hotel must make all its money from holding wedding receptions, given the 3 a day, and the low tariffs and happy hour. S., my redoubtable college twin who is now living in Mumbai, met us there and took charge, ordering a cab and shepherding us off. We quickly thought better of a brief stop at an authentic Indian restaurant, and we instead went to the Taj for a nice, safe lunch (although Starbucks could learn something from their pricing – 250 rupees for tea).

After lunch, we decided to go to the ISHKON temple, the modern edifice built by the International Krishna Consciousness Society, or the Hare Krishnas. Having lived 4 doors down from their Boston outpost, I was interested to see the mothership (culturally insensitive much?). Arriving, we were all forced to pull a Britney Spears, surrendering our shoes and proceeding barefoot to the VIP gate that our small donation got us access to. We then proceeded to dash through the small shrines devoted to various avatars of Krishna on our way to the main event, a large cathedral-like building painted with frescos of the youthful blue Krishna and his gopis.

As we stared up at the ceiling, I recalled snatches of long-forgotten college classes (sorry Professors Haynes and Thapar). Mahabarta, Bhagavad Gita, butter thieves, charioteers – various parts of the legends came back to me moments before I started retelling them in a halting fashion. My recitation was interrupted by the monks doing pujas, who wouldn't let us sneak away from the altar rituals. We got scolded and recalled multiple times. Finally, jasmine blossoms in hand, we withdrew from the great chamber down a set of winding stairs that kept leading us from bookstore to gift shop to kitchen to gift shop until finally, barefoot and panting, we retrieved our cameras, hopped back in the cab, and started feverishly purelling our feet.

Word of the Day: Dosas (Bangalore 1)

Given our earlyish arrival, we decided to power through the first day in an attempt to conquer jetlag. After a much needed hot shower (despite the “coincidental” effect of the downstairs water heater on the power), we stepped onto the streets of India for the first time, as we walked to the corner store to buy bread. The streets themselves were on the moderate side of bustling – women in brightly colored saris and selwar kamezs walked their uniformed children to school, men in western garb headed to work, and cows wandered semi-unaccompanied. Huge upscale condo buildings and western-style schools lined both sides of the dirt road (which did have brick sidewalks). Although still “dirty” in the western sense, the bright light and swept sidewalks contrasted positively with other developing cities I've seen (sorry, Nairobbery).

After a wonderfully filling breakfast of toasted butter and cheese sandwiches (heavy on both) and mango juice (brings back memories!) we hopped into the car to drive into the heart of the “Garden City.” Our route took us past the towering parliamentary houses, immense in their white stone splendor, and through the semi-wild, semi-planted Cubbin Gardens. We were deposited at M.G. Road for some shopping and lunch. We have an Indian wedding to go to as part of the trip, and I wanted to wear something festive.

The shopping experience had a bit of a goldilocks vibe. I wanted a selwar kamez, or 3 piece suite of flowing tunic, tight jegging-like pants, and a scarf. The first store we went to was toooooo ornate – brocade outfits that would have vied with the bride for attention. The second set of stores we walked by were too simple. Finally, we wandered into a decent store where I found a pretty maroon and lime green (prettier than it sounds, mom) outfit. I totally plan on buying more, but for $35 I have a good option. We also bought some English language books and shopped for Sandalwood souvenirs.

For lunch we went to Ebony, an Indian and (allegedly) continental buffet on the 13^th floor of an office building. We ate outside on a balcony with full views of the city, soaking in the sunshine while pushing the spicy curries around with naan (I ate mostly papadams when I found a lamb kidney in my biryani). We finished with desert at the Corner Shop, an ice cream place on Brigade road famous for its “Death by Chocolate” dish of ice cream, brownies, chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

After our long flights and long day, we were ready for a nap. We emerged briefly for an amazing homemade meal of dosas, chutney and sambar, before falling asleep by 9. Sometimes, you just gotta give into the 'lag.

India in Transit: Consultant Fail

One of the harsher pieces of feedback that I was given this term was to “stop identifying so much as a consultant” (and with my former employer).  As I prepared for this trip to India, I felt those old habits dying hard.  Determined to pack only a carry-on, I dutifully bought detergent and a clotheslines, rolled my clothes carefully in my sturdy little rolly bag, and packed my liquids and half my medicine cabinet into my backpack.  Netbook charged, ipod loaded, and Bose headphone case packed with spare batteries.  I had made it to China for 3 months with only a carry-on – I'd do it again!

The polite Cathay Pacific gate agent burst my confident up-in-the-air bubble, informing me that my little bag was 2x the weight limit (Seriously, a 7 kg limit? My school bag weighs that much on a good day). So 45 minutes into my journey, my hopes of confidently rolling around the airport George Clooney-style were dashed. 

Airplane rides, if done well, are usually uneventful. You watch crappy movies and TV shows that you wouldn't normally (NB: Steven Moffat's modern-day Sherlock Holmes is actually somewhat awesome). You get fed every few hours with totally unnecessary trays of individually packaged food that all tastes vaguely the same.  After an interminable time (shorter if you can sleep), you emerge bleary-eyed into a bustling airport.  After a quick meal (I had REALLY wanted soup dumplings at the Hong Kong Airport, but those restaurants were past immigration – although I still have a Chinese visa...), it's back to your next plane, your next flight, your next meals,  your next nap, and apparently a quarantine spray of the cabin before landing.

My first impression of India was one of wide-eyed confusion – how was I going to meet A., who was picking us up? However, after a quick moment of “what have I gotten myself into?” I located the telephone booth, made my two rupee call, got the change to pay for it, and was able to find my benefactor.  A fellow travelers' delayed flight left us sitting in the cool night air and soft lights of the towering modern airport waiting, slowly waking up to the morning. By 7 AM Bangalore time, we were at our hosts', coffee'ed, chocolate'd, and ready to face the day.

Real World: India (Hi again, blog!)

The best pre-b-school advice I got was to be sure to bring my “flair” with me.  These bits of costume paraphernalia had been most plentiful in my wardrobe my senior year of college, before sorority bequests (I still miss the Madonna-ish beaded bustier that I gave to some lucky sophomore).  Still I cobbled together a respectable collection of pirate earrings, jean jackets and other assorted items to drag cross-country.  And while I missed the school's first costume party (I decided to dress up as an observant Jew, given that it was Erev Yom Kippur), I soon joined in the fun – and the spending.

As the term went on, however, I realized that costumes were not just those things we wore Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights.  Rather, as our class went through the motions of making 200+ new friends and meeting 400 new people, it felt like I was always in some sort of dress-up mode.  Another friend referred to this as “chameleon-syndrome,” as all of us, insecure overachievers desperate to be liked, slipped into the mode we thought would most please those around us.  The irony, of course, is we were all in costume for each other, and very little felt authentic. Not necessarily a bad thing, but a tiring one.

All of this is a long way of saying that 1/6 of the way through my b-school adventure, which I am finding thrilling and exciting and full of that ineffable thing known as personal development, I'm ready for things to get a little more real.  So off to India with 30+ classmates for 2 weeks of business meetings, 1.5 weeks of touristing, and hopefully a lot of fun. I'll be sure to pick up lots more flair while I'm here!

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thoughts and menus for the rest of the trip are on my computer and will be posted after jetlag takes a hike

Beijing: Kosher by the Great Wall

A long time ago, in a wave of post-Bat Mitzvah religiosity, I decided
that I didn't eat pork or cheeseburgers. I had grown up without ham
in the house, and it was no great issue to give up bacon (this was in
the pre-pork belly days).

I made it through Italy peeling proscuitto off my pizza and skipped
all the jamon in Spain. Bacon became a thing to be scorned, and
Christmas hams were akin to footballs.

Then, in a dingy noodle shop in New York (either Ollie's or Joe's), I
had my first soup dumpling (Xiao Long Bao), and an exception was born.

My favorite explanation for Kashrut laws from my previous incarnation
as a religion major was Mary Douglass' theory of purity and pollution.
Douglass posited that dietary laws labeled things impure that defied
category definitions (Apologies to Professors Ackerman, Ohnuma, Green
and Reinhardt for the theoretical butchering that is about to occur).
For example, shellfish were not kosher because things that lived in
the water were supposed to swim, not hang out on rocks. Similarly,
pigs were treif because they had the wrong types of hoofs and stomachs
(at least compared to their ruminant barnyard neighbors).

However, if you create a new category of kosher that allows us to eat
things that are truly delicious, Xiao Long Bao, and by extension, all
chinese food, would be a-okay.

Thus, for this trip, I am going to define pork as "Kosher by the Great
Wall" (hat tip to H. for the phrasing.

Bring on the pig!

Beijing food diary:

Thursday:

Gourmet Food Street, Wafujing shopping street
-Our first real chinese food was in an underground shopping mall,
where 120 RMB bought us piles of greasy fried rice in banana leaves,
simple dumplings and veggie pancakes. Filling after a tough morning
of baking in the morning sun.

Hua's restaurant, location unknown
-BBQ short ribs
-Chicken dish
-Chive dumplings
-Chop suey buns
-Bamboo shoots
-Greens

Friday:

Great Wall food stand
-Banana chocolate pancake. Basically a Chinese crepe

Da Dong, Chaoyang
-Peking Duck. XLL was right – best I've had and a must-visit in
Beijing. The duck is lean and not too fatty, served with all the
fanfare and little extras – hoisin sauce, pancakes, sesame pockets,
assorted veggies. They make a point of giving you the ducks head,
which none of us ate, and the duck stock made from the bones, which is
a milky, salty soup that a few sips of finish the meal perfectly.
-Fried eggplant – sublime slices of eggplant roasted with garlic and oil
-Chicken and cashews
-Sauteed greens
-Corn-dotted fried rice
-Grapes on dry ice
-Mangosteen (??) iced sorbet

Saturday

Three Guizho men, Chaoyang
-Braised beef short ribs in spicy sauce – melt-in-your mouth ribs
braised to perfection and served with smoked chilies. Bonus because it
meant I could avoid pork for a meal.
-Spicy chicken
-Spicy glass noodles
-Tofu balls
-Mashed potatoes
-Vegetable fried rice

Sunday

Dim Sum by Lama Temple
-Dumplings (Soup, Chive, Shumai, etc)
-Spicy Beef noodles
-Vegetable pancakes
-Other assorted Dim Sum dishes (no chicken feet)

Nara: Small city, big-a** Buddha

Our final destination in Japan was the small city of Nara, about 45 minutes by express train from Kyoto. We got a slightly late start to Tuesday (someone had to finish her GSB calculus exam using the Westin's free internet), but arrived in Nara by 1:30. One purpose of this one night detour was to stay in a ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn usually known for elegant Spartan-ness and extreme hospitality. We dropped our bags at Ryokan Matsumae, which was on a well-situated side street between the train station, covered shopping area, and Nara national park. We had a large second-floor room, covered in tatami mats, to ourselves. Once the air-conditioning got going, it was very pleasant, with a TV, bathroom, tea area and 3 sleeping palates.

The Rough Guide, which had previously steered us well in terms of restaurants (when we could find them), sent us to a sushi place right around the corner. Nara is known for persimmon-wrapped sushi, salmon, and mackerel. We got the set lunch, which started with a dish of citrus-dressed fresh cold mackerel. The subsequent bento was the best we've had on the trip, with cold somen noodles and fresh eel, a sesame tofu square, assorted pickled and marinated vegetables, and a few pieces of the area's signature sushi. The persimmon leaves are beautiful, and give a slight aromatic accent to the contents. The nigiri itself is square blocks of rice with a thin slice of fish, usually salmon or mackerel, on top. Washed down with crispy iced tea, it was one of our better meals.

Our faith in Japanese food restored, we walked up to Nara national park, famous for its shrines, temples, and tame wild deer. Entering the park, we were confronted by a hungry herd of waist-high deer. The deer are quite aggressive, as they've been accustomed to viewing humans as food sources. At first it's quite cute, as you pet the one or two that come up to you, but it very soon becomes apparent that these stags are ass men, as both A. and had our tushes nipped by animals looking for food in our pockets (is that a wafer or are you just happy to see me?). Even H. was not immune from the interest of a pretty doe or two, but his height scared off most of his suitors.

Escaping the herd (although their free-ranging cousins would resume the nudging, literally, elsewhere in the park) we walked up to the Great Shrine, and explored the east and west cloisters of the working religious building. From there we headed to the highlight of the park, and the one we were rushing to see before dusk, was Todaji, home to the Big Buddha. Approached from the main entrance, the massive house that holds the Buddha looms over the park, with the golden horns of the roof catching and refocusing the sun's rays. The Buddha is a huge bronze structure that presides over the stone temple guardians, smaller Bodhisattvas, and gaping tourists. Truly one of the coolest statues I've seen.

Apparently the gods decided we had not spent enough time basking in awe of the Buddha, as the skies opened up and the rain that had held off for the previous week hit in full force. The side effects of a typhoon, we huddled for shelter underneath the eaves of the temple as rushing rivulets raced off the roof and down the large gutters overhanging the entrance. Closing time meant the monks kicked us out, and we straggled back through the rain to the ryokan.

In addition to soaking our sneakers, the typhoon canceled the evening's lantern festival, which would have covered most of the park, including the lake, in paper lanterns. Plan B was excellent tempura and soba, followed by sake and beer in the ryokan while watching a movie on my tiny netbook. No one was surprised when I fell asleep 2 minutes in the movie, especially after eating my fill of shrimp tempura flavored with green salt, and inhaling plum wine and perfect sweet sake.

Wednesday morning, we were proud of our early start, which would enable us to make the most of our few hours in Nara before the long train ride back to Narita and flight to Beijing. Pride soon became dismay as we wandered in the bright sun to find precious little open at 9 AM. We found a diner straight from central casting by the train station, where we feasted on texas toast, hard-boiled eggs, and coffee with real cream and simple syrup. The diner breakfast means we can say we ran the full gamut of Japanese cuisine, from everyday breakfasts to convenience store bento lunches to elaborate set dinners.

Now if only we had seen Mount Fuji (finally!) on the train ride back to Tokyo...

Kyoto dining: A. H, and J. really wish they could go to White Castle

Only two of the meals we ate in Kyoto are worth recording for posterity, due in part to our continued indulgence in the hotel breakfast (H. especially enjoyed the omlets cooked in lard).

Gontaro, Homemade Noodles

Sunday night we ate at a homemade udon and soba place a few blocks from the hotel. The first sign of the meal's quality was the superiority of the cheapest sake on the menu to anything we'd had in the US. We complemented the sake with some fresh homemade tofu, a small ball about the size and consistency of a decent-sized piece of buffalo mozzarella that was more texture than taste, leaving a clean creamy sensation in the mouth. A Teriyaki sauce added flavor as we ate closer to the bottom of the dish, but the first bite did a lot to redeem tofu in my mind (alas, Monday's lunch erased some of that goodwill).

I followed up the tofu with soba noodles stewed with chicken and leeks in a perfect bonito broth (A. and W. opted for Udon). The leeks added a mellow onion-y flavor which gave a richness to the broth. The noodles themselves had a gentler buckwheat taste than those we had had in Tokyo, and a wonderful melt-in-your mouth chewiness. Coupled with the courtesy of the staff and the adorableness of the restaurant, it was a very delicious, very Japanese meal.

Restaurant at corner across from Daikoji temple

The thing to eat in Kyoto is kaiseki, an elaborate meal of small courses of beautifully prepared food, and its vegetarian Buddhist cousin, shojin-ryori. These meals can range from $50/person into the hundreds, with the lunch sets generally being a bit more reasonable. Because A. is not a huge meat person, we opted to go for the vegetarian option. Too bad we didn't realize she wasn't a huge tofu person either...

The hotel sent us a to a lovely place pretty far to the West of the town. Despite our late arrival (as evidenced by this post, the hotel didn't give us the restaurant's name and we got lost), the family running the restaurant greeted us with excitement, and led us to our private dining room. Here, in the relative cool and calm, we positioned ourselves at low slung black lacquer tables, ready to eat.

The first tray of food, beautifully presented on red lacquer servingware, was a bowl of rice, a plate of various marinated vegetables, and a dish of an eggplant, sesame and edamame spread. The spread was the highlight of the selection, the chunky, chewy texture of the vegetable being complimented by the sesame and offset visually by the green of the shelled soy beans. It was by far the best babaghanoush I've had. The marinated vegetables were also quite good, with a lotus root in a sweet black marinade, mildly sweet picked ginger, and some well-cooked mushrooms and eggplants. Midway through this course, we were also brought a dashi broth flavored so mildly with bonito flakes that the scallions and ginger gave it an almost dirt-like earthy taste. Floating in the broth were two dumplings, one potato and one of the unidentified gelatinous variety.

The next tray was three types of marinated tofu – a dark, a light and a medium intensity, topped by a green star-shaped "savory marshmallow." This garnish would reappear on subsequent dishes. I didn't particularly care for this selection. There is a certain Japanese flavor, a sweet-sour brine that is usually paired with food of a squishy, slimy nature, that I really don't care for. Paired with tofu, also not a must-eat, I passed my plate to H.

The tofu extravaganza was succeeded by a small half eggplant, roasted, sectioned like a grapefruit and coated in a flavorful orange paste that tasted vaguely citrus-y with a chalky aftertaste. The sweetness of the sauce paired well with the slight bitterness of the soft eggplant. We all spent most of the course kicking ourselves, trying to identify the vaguely familiar taste (Children's orange chewable motrin was my best guess). Despite the medicinal association, I very much enjoyed this plate.

The final savory course of the meal was a dish of tofu simmered in lime-scented water, accompanied by ginger fried rice. Shojun-ryori is about highlighting a single taste and dialing down every other ingredient to the bare minimum. The tofu, simmered in a broth scented only with nail-clipping sized shaving of unripe lime peel, was the prime example of this, tasting of almost nothing in an interesting way. Unfortunately, I like my food like I like boys – brash, complicated and in small doses (at this point on the train between Kyoto and Tokyo, A., reading over my shoulder, burst out laughing). Thus, the subtlety of the tofu, which resembled a wet sponge, was totally lost on me. I did like the heavily gingered fried rice (H. pointed out Jean-Georges did too, basing a minimalist column fried rice recipe on something similar).

We finished the meal with slices of perfectly ripe Asian pear, served on frozen glass trays that mimicked ice slabs, green tea flavored sweetened rice paste wrapped around red beans, and bitter, frothy matcha. Overall, it was quite an experience and an enjoyable one, but I came out really craving the one-two flavor punch of a big mac and fries. Maybe that's why we had convenience store soft serve for dinner – also a simple taste, but one we identified with home.

Kyoto: Tokyo's Boston

Literally. The Kyoto Municipal Museum had a huge scene screaming "BOSTON." Apparently they were hosting a show of selected European works from the MFA. Good thing I didn't bother with that last MFA visit before I left Boston.

Kyoto, the ancient capital, is about ~3 hours by high-speed train from Tokyo. It is a beautiful, low slung city situated between mountains and a river. It feels much less touched by the west in many ways than Tokyo. The small Japanese-style houses with their teensy entrances (something about minimizing tax bills) have not yet been replaced by the screaming office towers of the larger city. Kyoto is also much greener than Tokyo, naturally fading up into the hills as you leave the station area and head east or west from the city center.

We arrived Sunday, and after some confusion with the hotel shuttle bus (we missed it), made our way to the hotel. The Westin Kyoto Miyako is a massive conference center built into the side of a hill on the city's Eastern side. Our little balcony gave us uninterrupted views over the city to the mountains beyond, and a breathtaking sense of calm after Toyko. For dinner, we wandered out past the zoological garden to a homemade noodle shop. There, we inhaled soba and udon while trying to master sitting on bended knee over a low table (we couldn't).

Monday, we got out of bed early (as opposed to waking up at 5 and lying there for a while) to make our morning tour, which would take us to Nijjo castle, the Golden Pavilion, and the Imperial Palace, three of the more special sites in a city of 100 shrines. Nijjo castle, the old Kyoto seat of the Shogun, is a beautiful, airy wooden building surrounded by picturesque gardens and koi ponds. The tour takes you past the endless anterooms and waiting areas to the heart of the Shogun's domain, which is now complete with statues of the various women of the court and a stilted tour guide explanation of the mating habits of the ruling families.

The castle's most interesting aspect was its similarity to many of the European palaces I've seen, despite the difference in style and building materials. The same flourishes – painted ceilings divided into individual squares, carved wooden panels and painted walls, would not have been out of place in Italy, although the flora and fauna would have been different. I don't remember from history class the extent of interaction between the various Eastern and Western empires by the 17^th century (keyboard shortcuts have replaced much of what I learned in college), but it will be an interesting research project for my copious spare time.

After the castle, we ran through the gardens of the Golden Pavilion, which is pretty much what it sounds like – a temple covered in gold leaf. It is strikingly shiny in the morning sun, and very pretty, perched on a pond next to Sakura trees. We all posed to the obligatory pictures before being herded into the various gift shops and tea houses.

Our final stop on the tour was the Imperial Palace, and it was here that my inate inability to follow tours won out. I spent most of the tour wandering slightly away from the group around the gravel grounds of the elaborate white and orange structure. The most interesting thing in the palace was the coronation throne, a simple wooden chair underneath a sprawling umbrella pine. It looked fit for a Shakespearean princess, not a dour emperor.

Our next stop was the Daikoji temple, which we ran through looking for our lunch reservation at a Buddhist restaurant serving a vegetarian version of kaiseki, the tasting menu that Kyoto is known for. After an elaborate meal, we stumbled onto the train and across the city to the 10,000 Gates area. This is a meandering complex of family shrines and the large, orange Shinto gates that has covered the mountain since the 8^th century. This was probably the highlight of our time in Kyoto, as we wandered up the winding paths, sheltered from the setting sun by the endless rows of the orange wooden structures. We reached the top of the mountain as the sun set, allowing us just enough time to run back down the stone steps before it became too Blair Witch Project.

A few restorative hotel cocktails later, we walked up to the main drag of downtown Kyoto in time to see our destination, a conveyor-belt sushi joint, shut down. We decided we wanted soft serve in liu of raw fish, and set off down the strip. Alas, Kyoto apparently stops serving food at 10, as we watched multiple places close before our hungry eyes. Finally a Lawson's, the ubiquitous Japanese convenience store, coughed up some mocha-vanilla twist, and we stumbled back to bed, sated and ready for Nara in the morning.

Tokyo – What We Ate

I'm not gauche enough to take photos of the food, but most of it was memorable enough to warrant recording for posterity, even if I can't remember the names of half the restaurants.

All of this was also accompanied by our weight in water, as we tried to beat the heat.

Wednesday

Ippudo, Ebisu area

• Top notch ramen, ordered by the point and pick method, chased down by cold iced tea and beer.

Thursday

Sushi Dai, aisle 6, Tsukiji fish market

• Best sushi ever; Standard set of toro, hokkaido sake, hake, yellowjack, mackerals, sea eel, tamago and miso soup.

Mitsukoshi department store, Ginza

• Rice balls. Makes my old infatuation, Oms B, the rice ball shop by grand central, look subpar. I love Ume, or the pickled Japanese plums

Soba shop, Roppongi,

• Hot soba, bar snacks and beer. For pure buckwheat flavor, can't be beat.

Friday

Gyoza Center, Gora, Hakone

• Set meal of Kimchi Gyoza in broth, pickles, salad, and perfectly seasoned rice. Incredibly messy to eat, as the boiled dumplings fall apart at the slightest provocation, but incredibly satisfying

Saturday

Kadoma bakery, Ebisu station

• Chocolate bread (as H., said, basically babka)
• Sweet potato pastry. Baked, sugar-coated sweet potato is apparently a specialty – we sampled it again later that morning, and with black sesame seeds, it's warm and chestnut-y

Okonomiyaki shop in Asakusa

• Cucumber with pickled plums. I'm adding pickled plums to my pantry when I get home – a welcome new way to eat vegetables
• Pancake with cabbage, mushrooms and greens

Moni & Toni food cart, Tokyo Dome

• Matcha bubble tea

Izakaya, Shibuya

• Corn and tofu appetizer
• Snowcrab and scallions in tofu skins
• Caesar salad
• Shabu-Shabu with lettuce, mushrooms and what I'm pretty sure was pork. Very tasty, but similar to my experience making Xiao Lon Bao last year. The broth is less tasty when you see it in its congealed, lard-packed form first.

Sunday

Smooch smoothie shop, Ebisu

• Black sesame seed and Azuki (red bean) smoothie. Like drinking liquid Halva. I'm in food love.

Counter, Shinagawa station

• Sushi sandwich – triangle shaped rice balls with fillings like smoked salmon, tuna fish and roe, and unagi. Too cute, and surprisingly tasty

Tokyo – What We Did (3/3)

Saturday we were back on our feet for a day of sightseeing and eating. We met K., the daughter of a family friend in the old city of Asakusa, site of the renowned buddhist temple Senoshi-Ji. At the temple, K. taught us the proper way of asking for good luck – chuck a 5 Yen piece into the alter, clap twice, bow, and ask for blessings. She also showed us how to have our fortunes told by shaking a metal container that spat out a rod with a number corresponding to a drawer with a slip of paper fortelling good or evil. I was quite satisfied with my “Best fortune,” but H. had to ward off the evil spirits of his “Bad fortune” by ritually discarding the text. On the way out of the temple, we stopped at the shinto shrine, where A. went into raptures over the baby monkey of the temple drummers, and then shopped our way out of the area (My dermatologist would approve of my new sun hat).

Lunch was okonomiyaki, or do-it-yourself pancakes, under K.'s supervision. Wonderful, although sitting next to the roiling flat top grill was not ideal in the heat. Afterwards, we wandered towards the kitchenware district to marvel at the plastic food and toy with buying beautiful chef knives (damn carry-on!). We also stopped at a high-end washi, or rice paper, store, and I decided my next apartment will incorporate a gorgeous printed screen (alas, one won't fit in my Schwab dorm room).

We the replaced the relative quiet of older Tokyo with the blaring noise and teeming crowds of Akihabara, or Electric City, the place to buy electronics and the gathering place for magna and anime aficionados. We almost lost H. in the bustling electronics department stores that make NY's J&R look puny in comparision. While we were fully expecting to be blown away by the gadgets, we were a bit underwhelmed, with the 3D aquarium we'd seen in the Sony building in the Ginza the day before outclassing even the snazzy smartphones of Softbank.

Our final stop before our pre-dinner crash was the Tokyo dome, to pick up baseball-themed gear as gifts. Some developer had the brillant plan of pairing an amusement park with the baseball stadium, and we enjoyed ice cream under the tracks of a roller-coaster while lamenting how old , creaky and uninterested in park rides we had all become. That quarter-century really makes a body feel ancient!

Dinner was accompanied by the full sensory overload of Shibuya, a Times-Square on ridiculous steroids area of multi-story restaurants, clubs and shops. We got the full experience as we wandered looking for a restaurant before stumbling downstairs into an izakaya for sake and some traditional fare.

Sunday morning we squeezed in one more Tokyo neighborhood before our early-afternoon shinkansen or high-speed train, to Kyoto. It's embarrassing to admit that most of my familiarity with Harajuku comes from Gwen Stefani. Maybe we were in the wrong area or were too early or people were on vacation, because the famed Sunday costume parade was nowhere near as outrageous as her videos. We did see a few girls in costume, but the most interesting clothing we saw was in the windows of the stores that lined the packed streets selling all sorts of fashions. While I toyed with adding a flowered peasant skirt or tiered blouse to my wardrobe, we took in the hectic atmosphere of the area, filled with Japanese tourists and the occasional American in sneakers.

All in all, I'd say we eased into Tokyo, staying in Ebisu and starting in the more western parts of the city. It was not until we hit Shibuya and Harajuku, the younger, more urban areas that we really felt out of place. It will be interesting to see how Kyoto differs. Let's just hope it's not as hot as everyone keeps saying!

Tokyo – What We Did (2/3)

Friday, we took a mid-morning train out to Odawara, the entry point to Hakone, a national park area near Mt. Fuji with hot springs, hiking and museums near Mt. Fuji. From Odawara, we took a small train up to Miyanoshita, small town with luxury hotels and antique shops. We found a local onsen, or hot spring bath, for a relaxing soak to try and soothe out the kinks of the past few days. H. was exiled to the outside tub, while A. and I luxuriated in the privacy of our indoor bath, shared only with the largest bug I've ever seen (a japanese stick insect that hung out on the wall). Then it was back on the train to the well-named Chorokumbi, for dumplings.

After lunch, we wandered into the Hakone Open Air museum, one of the coolest, if randomest, museums I've been do. Situated on what seems like a never-ending piece of land, the museum boosts rooms full of Picassos, a stand-out collection of Henry Moores, and an amazing collection of modern sculpture ranging from Rodin casts to Japanese plays on form and function. The museum is very kid-friendly, as many of the installations are interactive. We were especially jealous of the “wood of nets” and the mesh swings reserved for the under-12 set.

I could have lingered all day, but we had a cable car and a sailing ship to catch. The mountain train ended in Gora, where we hopped a cable car to head down the mountain to the lake port of Togendai. Alas, Mt. Fuji hid in the clouds as we descended, but we had a great view of the lake and the surrounding green hills. In Togendai, we embarked on a masted sailing ship, complete with Japanese Captain Hook in full regalia, for a lake cruise with a side of kitsch. Our day ended with a bus and train back to Tokyo, where the last vestiges of the Onsen calm sent us off to an early bedtime.

Tokyo – What We Did (1/3)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young former consultant, in possession of way too many starwood points and time to kill before the start of b-school, must take a long trip to a faraway place. In my case, that faraway place in East Asia, starting in Tokyo and working my way through Kyoto, Beijing, Xi'an, Shanghai and Hong Kong, accompanied by a rotating cast of characters. In honor of my adventures, I'm reviving the travel blog. Paul Theroux I'm not, but its easier than mass emails.

We arrived in Tokyo on Wednesday evening, after a surprisingly pleasant 13 hour flight (thanks Ambien!). Our initial encounter with the city was jarring, as we emerged bleary-eyed from the Ebisu subway stop with no idea how to find our hotel. (It's not my fault that I'm the only one who decided to buy a guidebook.) However, looking lost and bedraggled gained us sympathy, and a nice gentleman walked us to the skyway that would take us to the Westin. After some haggling over the reservation – A. and I had split the nights but she's not platinum – we were ready to face the city.

Ebisu, which is a little outside the city center but still conveniently on the central JR line, is a quieter, westernized neighborhood with modern, European style piazzas, high end shopping, and an array of restaurants. H., our fearless leader now in command of a map, guided us to Ippudo, one of the top ramen shops in Japan, where the point and choose method got us all steaming bowls of noodles and broth to fortify us for the 7 minute walk back to the hotel, and bed.

Thursday, we woke up at 4 AM so we could catch the first subway to the Tsukiji fish market, the famous mecca of fresh seafood. We got there too late to see the auction (that required arriving before 4:30, and the $40 cab wasn't in our budget), so we wandered into the market. There, in between playing frogger, as H. put it, with the mechanized hand trucks, we saw fish sellers break down massive tuna and fillet many smaller fish. We also marveled at the freshness of the many types of shellfish, only a third of which we could identify.

As the market woke up, we wandered over to the adjacent sushi stalls for sushi breakfast. We chose the restaurant with the longest line, which turned out to be Sushi Dai, one of the more famous 14-seat sushi joints in the winding alleys. A 90 minute wait secured us seats at the bar for the freshest nigiri I've ever had. I know its a cliché to rave about the toro in Tokyo, but it really is that good (special props to A., who doesn't like fish and did the entire wait for what I'm sure was the best kappa maki ever).

Still savoring the mouthfeel of the fish, we walked out into the blistering morning to go to Hami-ri, a beautiful walled garden that used to be the seaside retreat of the shogun. An audio guide led us through peony gardens, plum groves, duck hunting areas and along one of the longest footbridges I've ever seen. The peaceful feel of the area was soothing after our busy morning, and it was hard to remember it was only 9 AM.

Leaving the zen of the garden, we wandered over to the Ginza to be there as the shops opened. I reveled in the minimalist aesthetic of Muji and Uniqlo (I'll have to discard some gap t-shirts to make room in my suitcase before this trip is over) while trying not to be overwhelmed by the frentic pace of the department stores.

After a couple department store food hall rice balls, we walked up to the Imperial Palace and Imperial Garden. The area is devoid of shade, and you have to follow very precise walkways through the gravel in front of the palace area. This is probably the one thing in Tokyo I'd have skipped, especially in the mid-afternoon heat. However, we did run into P, and cemented our plans for dinner.

A quick nap got us ready for dinner with P. and her college friend in Roppongi, the hip ex-pat area. We met under the spider of the Mori tower before hurrying to a soba restaurant the hotel had recommended. Considering most of the soba I've eaten has been in korean noddle soups from NYC delis when staffed in the city, the earthy buckweat we had, paired with cold sake and beer, was a revelation.

Death by powerpoint?

For some reason, I totally expect that someone at the GSB will make "Dumb Dumb Bullets" t-shirts next year...

How much can the NYT mock powerpoint? 

Cultural institution throw down

Reading a fascinating article on animals and Africa, I came across the following New Yorker cartoon:

Bit of the pot calling the kettle, no?

Although if it is in reference to Ira Glass, I am totally Team Resnick in this battle of the hipster touchstones...

Additional Boston To-do's

I'll add others as I get them:

• Craigie on Main
• Boston Harbor Islands
• Mass MoCA
• Harvard Museum
• JFK Museum
• Bruins/Celtics game

Boston Never Have I Ever

As the weather is finally nice (for the most part) in Boston, I've been thinking about all the quintessential Boston things I've never done. So I am setting myself a goal: try and do as many of the activities on the below list in the next 2-3 months as possible.  Who wants to join? Email me or comment!

Historical/Cultural

• Freedom Trail
• Boston Pops
• Red Sox Game: Completed 4/17. Thank goodness for the heaters in the company box, because it was cold! And they lost. twice.
• Duck Boat Tour
• House of Blues
• Peabody Essex Museum
• Day trip to Newport
• Arnold Arboretum
• Museum of Science

Culinary/Nightlife

• Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe:  Completed 4/9. Scrambled eggs good, not amazing
• Formaggio Kitchen BBQ: Completed 4/10. Amazing pulled lamb, corn bread and slaw, consumed while sitting on a stoop in cambridge and drinking beer out of coffee cups
• Mr. Bartley: 
• Top of the Hub
• Thursday night at SailLoft
• Wine Mondays at L'Espalier
• Sam Adams Brewery Tour
• Sunset Grille
• Mikes vs. Modern taste test
• Summer Shack
• Brookline Jewish food (Zaftig's doesn't count).
• Union Oyster House

Other

• Actually go to Inman Square
• Road trip to Montreal
• Road trip to Foxwood’s
• Go to Charlestown
• Go to Jamaica Plain

The New Yorker sums up the consultant in 1 cartoon

No commentary needed (they even got the jargon right!)

Hat tip: Every current or former consultant who sent this to me

The Great Seder Adventure

Passover is my favorite Jewish holiday. I love the story and the ritual, the family gathering, and food. I even don't mind Matzah (the first few days). However, this year, with the seders being Monday and Tuesday, I couldn't make it back home. So I decided to host my very first seder myself. The guest list was 10 people - an almost even split between Jews and the uninitiated, who would be subjected to our singing.

The preparation began with a Saturday morning grocery trip. It took the cabbie and I two trips to get everything out of the trunk into the entry hall

I spent the next few hours chopping, mixing and bundling into assorted cooking dishes.  First up was the brisket -6.5 pounds of meat marinated in an eclectic mix of sweet and sour. The lack of a food processor in the house meant that my guests would be able to admire my onion and garlic chopping skills.


 While the brisket was in the oven, I started the chicken soup.  Despite my aversion to high school Biology, and a month spent dissecting every formaldehyde-soaked carcass in the supply room, I handled breaking down the chicken with aplomb. And I even remembered the bayleaf!

Saturday was not without incident, however. A bit of spilled gravy in the oven led to a smoky apartment and a loud smoke alarm.  However, this time we opened the window, not the door, and avoided evacuating the whole building (see the Great Popcorn Embarrassment of 2009).

Sunday was a much lighter cooking day - charoset, asparagus, matzah balls, potatoes and berry compote.  And of course, re-arranging furniture for my beautiful seder table:

We had a nice little seder, passing the haggadah, using printed transliterations for the Four Questions, and barely remembering two verses of Dayenu.  But we did drink all 4 glasses of wine, and hide the afikomen! Hat tip to H. for his inventive use of dixie cups on the seder plate:

Next year in Jerusalem! (or at least in an apartment with a dishwasher...)

The Menu:
Charoset
Chicken Soup w/ Matzah Balls
Brisket
Arugula Salad
Roasted Asparagus
Potatoes
Berries, Ice Cream, Macaroons

March for Babies!

In honor of Pesach, and the celebration of a 40 year wander through the desert, please donate to another worthwhile march: our March of Dimes Team!

Two times a trend?: The Work(Out) shirt

Exile to the hinterlands of suburban New England does not always provide ample opportunities for the type of social commentary I enjoy. Moving between the client and hotel means spending most of your waking hours in smallish rooms staring at a computer screen.

Sometimes, however, I am able to escape to the gym, to stare at another screen while pretending to exercise. During these brief respites on the elliptical, I am usually surrounded by other members of my tribe, the traveling consultant. Recently, watching these fellow hotel-dwellers, I have noticed a rather disturbing trend: the use of the button-down work shirt as exercise attire. I call it the "Work(Out) Shirt"

The first instance of this fashion violation occurred as part of a larger crime against the well-dressed. Another gym-goer chose to work out in black sneakers, high white socks, madras shorts, a loud blue and pink Thomas Pink button down, and slicked down hair. All he was missing was a tie, and the clashing patterns would have overwhelmed the room.

The second appearance of the Work(Out) shirt came three days later, on another perpetrator of the slicked down hair look. The offender paired a blue button down with gym shorts - marginally less offensive but still slightly horrifying.

I would say that the Work(Out) shirt is now a trend, but I have only seen it twice, not thrice, thus disqualifying it from official Thursday Styles coverage in the NYT. Next time I make it back to the gym, I'm sure the Work(Out) Shirt will be there, waiting, and ready to be declared trend-y (and I'll snap a photo!)

Announcing: Future career plans

The family that schemes together...

On Feb 26, 2010, at 1:39 PM, JFB wrote:

To: Mommy B and Daddy B
cc: Baby B
Subject: important

Given my inability to personally solve the world's problems, Baby B and I have come up with the following plan:

JFB: what will you do?
Baby B: basketweaving.
JFB: nice. we'll start a basketweaving business together
Baby B: perfect!
JFB: you can be the creative force, ill bring the business success
Baby B: that sounds lovely
JFB: we'll call it B Squared Baskets. and maybe we'll even do it underwater
Baby B : hahaha cute
___________________________

On Feb 26, 2010, at 2:02 PM, Daddy B wrote:

To: Mommy B and JFB
cc: Baby B
Subject: Re: important

Ok

 I'll form the legal entity and consider the tax issues I'll then need to do  the trademark and copyright search and filings. I'll then need to put together your operating agreements, contracts and the like. Then we'll need to find space and negotiate a lease. We'll then need to do an employee manual and pension plan so that we can do the hiring and firing. Sounds easy.
______________________________

On Feb 26, 2010, at 7:02 PM, Mommy B wrote:

To: Daddy B and JFB
cc: Baby B
Subject: Re: important

I'll give the art historical, anthropological and folkloric perspective, of course!

Nominated link of the day: Sleep is good

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/23/health/research/23beha.html

Happy, Hershel?

Stolen link of the day: Rules to write by

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one

Hat tip La Merv

Annals of Modern Girlhood: XXIII

Another day, another discussion of women, men, money, education and marriage. This one's a NYT group blog:

http://roomfordebate.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/02/21/for-women-redefining-marriage-material/?hp

Link of the day: Dress British, Think Yiddish

http://www.mindingthecampus.com/originals/2010/02/yiddish_rises_again.html

Time to brush up on my Yiddish swear words

Link of the Day: Snooki is a modern day Shakespeare!

http://salon.com/entertainment/tv/jersey_shore/index.html?story=/ent/tv/iltw/2010/01/27/jersey_shore_the_wisdom_of_snooki

Adventure does not end, even when you are only traveling to CT

I may not be having the adventures of the past 9 months - JM's driving is far superior to that of third world taxi drivers - but I still have interesting things to say.

Blogging will resume today!