The tomfoolery of the Kobe Electric Railway's youthful patrons:
1. A middle school student put a healthy glop of gel in his hair, then proceeded to flagilate his scalp for about 10 minutes. I was sitting next to him. Everyone was enjoying his hairs floating about like DNA afloat in the steady stream of air conditioned lovliness.
2. A boy, exercising the nifty fashion trend of extreme sagging, drooped his pants and displayed his hello kitty boxers. All the elderly passengers were confused, as if to not quite be able to discern why dropping ones's pants to crack-displaying levels is fashionable.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Hurry up and slow down. Falafel's appeal as "fast food"
Amir Trojbicz came to Japan in 1987. For the past 18 years, he has worn a number of hats. All the while, he has not forgotten the turbulent life in Israel he left behind. His current venture Falafel Garden has become an all-encompassing ecology-minded quest to educate minds and fill stomachs full of locally grown cuisine.
Speaking of the century-old former sake shop where he runs Falafel Garden, Trojbicz notes the beautiful wooden structure was heavily under-utilized. For example where diners can relax amongst a flower garden was once a dusty storage area for decrepit cardboard boxes. Relying on a meager budget and a mental image, he gutted the interior and the new look is mild, friendly and affords a great view of the neighborhood. This Sakeyaten cum falafel outlet is "a very special place," and a neighbor hood anchor.
He fell into the place by chance, notes Trojbicz. At his first restaurant, Falafel King in Nara, a loyal customer living Kyoto's Demachiyanagi sector mentioned his neighbor's sake shop was up for sale. Sensing an opportunity, Trojbicz made his move.
Moving across the mountain and starting up Falafel garden has been made easier by the networking he did running the show at Falafel King (Sadly, now defunct). Organic vegetable farmers from across the Kansai region make these meals 100% home grown. The soybeans, tomatoes and even the sesame seeds are grown pesticide, herbicide and GMO free. "Care affects taste. Falafel is a fresh, day-to-day food."
Trojbicz knows falafel. Being Israeli, it is his home nation's adopted national food. Simply put, "It's the oldest fast food in the world." But it is not that simple. Many Arab nations see their falafel as a cultural icon, much akin to the American hamburger or the German sausage. The different variations of falafel across the globe cater to that particular culture's palate. In Egypt, the falafel is drier. The Jordanian and Israeli cooking styles, are most similar. Making falafel in such places is akin to Mexican tortillas, all productions steps are done at home, with all family members taking an active role.
Falafel is a year-round snack, meal and cultural institution. All Israelis, whether Muslim, Christian or Orthodox Jew, have a favorite stall. With Kosher consideration in mind, no one need worry. Passover is the lone time to give up the breaded falafel sandwich. Trojbicz, like all Israeli males, spent between three and four years in the military. "As an Israeli soldier falafel is a good, cheap option." His weekly snack is a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities and stresses he felt living in Israel, aspects he does not miss.
On whether he attained his delicious recipes from a skilled family member, he smiles and proclaims: "Falafel is the result of test, test and retest." But the fact that his mother his mom is a chef at a world-class restaurant in Argentina, cooking Kibbutz, couldn't hurt. Lying somewhere within this well-traveled and thus very spread out clan's DNA are some serious cooking genes.
His dream is being realized as he helps his Japanese customers, the majority new to the concept of a pita-based sandwich, exclaim "Oishii Katta!" and make a connection between "healthy" and the more familiar English phrase Fast food." The Japanese, Trojbicz attests, is a society built upon a "speedy lifestyle," where high costs for food grown organically and prepared as demand determines is seen negatively. Its certainly an inhibitor to the slow food movement.
Notes:
Israeli Macabe \580 from Netanya, Israel.
Organic coffee \400
Falafel's mention can be found both in Bob Dylan Lyrics and Greek Mythology.
Falafel in three words (see KTO quotes).
Sets include one pita sandwich and a drink(4 varieties: Falafel, Hummus, Baba Ganoush and Avocado.) prices range \630~\1110
Getting There:
Falafel Garden is just 100 meters east of Keihan Demachiyanagi station. Tel. 075-712-1856. Seating options include a second floor baconly, a counter and tables in the aforementioned garden. Open everyday from
Amir Trojbicz came to Japan in 1987. For the past 18 years, he has worn a number of hats. All the while, he has not forgotten the turbulent life in Israel he left behind. His current venture Falafel Garden has become an all-encompassing ecology-minded quest to educate minds and fill stomachs full of locally grown cuisine.
Speaking of the century-old former sake shop where he runs Falafel Garden, Trojbicz notes the beautiful wooden structure was heavily under-utilized. For example where diners can relax amongst a flower garden was once a dusty storage area for decrepit cardboard boxes. Relying on a meager budget and a mental image, he gutted the interior and the new look is mild, friendly and affords a great view of the neighborhood. This Sakeyaten cum falafel outlet is "a very special place," and a neighbor hood anchor.
He fell into the place by chance, notes Trojbicz. At his first restaurant, Falafel King in Nara, a loyal customer living Kyoto's Demachiyanagi sector mentioned his neighbor's sake shop was up for sale. Sensing an opportunity, Trojbicz made his move.
Moving across the mountain and starting up Falafel garden has been made easier by the networking he did running the show at Falafel King (Sadly, now defunct). Organic vegetable farmers from across the Kansai region make these meals 100% home grown. The soybeans, tomatoes and even the sesame seeds are grown pesticide, herbicide and GMO free. "Care affects taste. Falafel is a fresh, day-to-day food."
Trojbicz knows falafel. Being Israeli, it is his home nation's adopted national food. Simply put, "It's the oldest fast food in the world." But it is not that simple. Many Arab nations see their falafel as a cultural icon, much akin to the American hamburger or the German sausage. The different variations of falafel across the globe cater to that particular culture's palate. In Egypt, the falafel is drier. The Jordanian and Israeli cooking styles, are most similar. Making falafel in such places is akin to Mexican tortillas, all productions steps are done at home, with all family members taking an active role.
Falafel is a year-round snack, meal and cultural institution. All Israelis, whether Muslim, Christian or Orthodox Jew, have a favorite stall. With Kosher consideration in mind, no one need worry. Passover is the lone time to give up the breaded falafel sandwich. Trojbicz, like all Israeli males, spent between three and four years in the military. "As an Israeli soldier falafel is a good, cheap option." His weekly snack is a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities and stresses he felt living in Israel, aspects he does not miss.
On whether he attained his delicious recipes from a skilled family member, he smiles and proclaims: "Falafel is the result of test, test and retest." But the fact that his mother his mom is a chef at a world-class restaurant in Argentina, cooking Kibbutz, couldn't hurt. Lying somewhere within this well-traveled and thus very spread out clan's DNA are some serious cooking genes.
His dream is being realized as he helps his Japanese customers, the majority new to the concept of a pita-based sandwich, exclaim "Oishii Katta!" and make a connection between "healthy" and the more familiar English phrase Fast food." The Japanese, Trojbicz attests, is a society built upon a "speedy lifestyle," where high costs for food grown organically and prepared as demand determines is seen negatively. Its certainly an inhibitor to the slow food movement.
Notes:
Israeli Macabe \580 from Netanya, Israel.
Organic coffee \400
Falafel's mention can be found both in Bob Dylan Lyrics and Greek Mythology.
Falafel in three words (see KTO quotes).
Sets include one pita sandwich and a drink(4 varieties: Falafel, Hummus, Baba Ganoush and Avocado.) prices range \630~\1110
Getting There:
Falafel Garden is just 100 meters east of Keihan Demachiyanagi station. Tel. 075-712-1856. Seating options include a second floor baconly, a counter and tables in the aforementioned garden. Open everyday from
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
The End of Suburbia and the end of Cheap Oil
Nipping into Osaka yester evening, I watched what might be called a documentary entitled "The end of Suburbia". Finding the roots of sprawl, sprawl which consumes former croplands, sprawl which we all confess is ugly on the eyes. One good point the film made was that the trend to commute to and from bedroom communities stems from the industrialization, and hence, dirtying, of downtown sectors by industrial noise, smog and various other nastiness.
But being one who sort of lived in the unincorporated sector of an American county overrun with suburbs, I'd have to say I don't like suburbs either. Here are some reasons for this.
One, suburb kids tend to be punks. Since their parents are often not around (vying for the best lane in amongst the gridlock) the said parental units tend to compensate their brood with stuff. This stuff tends to be purchased at mega-mega shops like Wal-Mart. These suburb punks, with nothing better to occupy their unsupervised afternoons, tend to see the world as a system of birthright, and utter jealousy results when the neighbor's little Johnny gets a big wheel for his birthday. Johnny's gang of up and coming punks thus all request (persuasively) a Big Wheel and soon one finds a roving pack of these Big Wheelers wreaking havoc on these perfectly designed planned communities.
Two, suburbs attract strip malls. These beaus tend to feature gut bomb Chinese take-out, Cleaning for Dad's Rayon suits and a centerpiece grocer with names like "marketplace," or some other name invoking an image of the true countryside, which it surely isn't. Such places exist in my hometown, fanning outwards toward oblivion, with names like Beaverton, Tigard, Sunny Valley, Happy Valley and even the Arabic-sounding Damascus. While green and full of great gardens, they do tend to offer arcetecture that is, well chotto... cookie cutter.
Solutions to this problem, both from the film and my discombooberated frontal lobe include:
1. Planned communities which combine pederstrian lifestyle with safe, clean, communities. Of course many cities are accomplishing this by redeveloping their downtowns. One big stumbling block there, however is real estate prices are often out of reach for the average couple.
2. Government intervention to build smaller cars. A very idealist, but important point to impliment. The buzz word these days is conserving energy, but with minimal entry into complex princibles of Physics, it is more about FUEL consumption. The rate of fuel consumption needs to be reduced. Thinner people, more hybrid cars and shorting commuting distance all reduce fuel usage
3. Try to find an honest politician or two. There are SO many good, cutting edge ideas out there, floating around waiting to be listened to and have some good done with them.
4. Any suggestions of your own?
Nipping into Osaka yester evening, I watched what might be called a documentary entitled "The end of Suburbia". Finding the roots of sprawl, sprawl which consumes former croplands, sprawl which we all confess is ugly on the eyes. One good point the film made was that the trend to commute to and from bedroom communities stems from the industrialization, and hence, dirtying, of downtown sectors by industrial noise, smog and various other nastiness.
But being one who sort of lived in the unincorporated sector of an American county overrun with suburbs, I'd have to say I don't like suburbs either. Here are some reasons for this.
One, suburb kids tend to be punks. Since their parents are often not around (vying for the best lane in amongst the gridlock) the said parental units tend to compensate their brood with stuff. This stuff tends to be purchased at mega-mega shops like Wal-Mart. These suburb punks, with nothing better to occupy their unsupervised afternoons, tend to see the world as a system of birthright, and utter jealousy results when the neighbor's little Johnny gets a big wheel for his birthday. Johnny's gang of up and coming punks thus all request (persuasively) a Big Wheel and soon one finds a roving pack of these Big Wheelers wreaking havoc on these perfectly designed planned communities.
Two, suburbs attract strip malls. These beaus tend to feature gut bomb Chinese take-out, Cleaning for Dad's Rayon suits and a centerpiece grocer with names like "marketplace," or some other name invoking an image of the true countryside, which it surely isn't. Such places exist in my hometown, fanning outwards toward oblivion, with names like Beaverton, Tigard, Sunny Valley, Happy Valley and even the Arabic-sounding Damascus. While green and full of great gardens, they do tend to offer arcetecture that is, well chotto... cookie cutter.
Solutions to this problem, both from the film and my discombooberated frontal lobe include:
1. Planned communities which combine pederstrian lifestyle with safe, clean, communities. Of course many cities are accomplishing this by redeveloping their downtowns. One big stumbling block there, however is real estate prices are often out of reach for the average couple.
2. Government intervention to build smaller cars. A very idealist, but important point to impliment. The buzz word these days is conserving energy, but with minimal entry into complex princibles of Physics, it is more about FUEL consumption. The rate of fuel consumption needs to be reduced. Thinner people, more hybrid cars and shorting commuting distance all reduce fuel usage
3. Try to find an honest politician or two. There are SO many good, cutting edge ideas out there, floating around waiting to be listened to and have some good done with them.
4. Any suggestions of your own?
Monday, June 27, 2005
A cornucopia of events to report on...
first, a trip to secretive Iya valley, essentially in the center of Shikoku. Rented the tiniest car available, with a 660 CC motor. I can't envision exactly what size that is, but it topped out at about 100 KPH, or 60 miles per hour.
Iya is so green and remote, its windy roads are a marvel. We passed several secluded hamlets where residents' link to the outside world is via self-propelled cable cars. The lowest population density I have seen in Japan had to be this area of rural western Tokushima prefecture.
Also I got to visit a nifty temple, Ryozenji, #1 on the 88 temple circuit. 87 more to go. Drove by # 5 and #8 but does that count?
I stayed at a 300 year old famrhouse, Chiiori (www.chiiori.org) that was the brainchild of famous Alex Kerr, whom rescued the homestead from decay and helped spawn the Woofing, organic farming network that continues to attract foriegn visitors and Japanese alike.
Also enjoyed a trip to an onsen. Being the 2nd anniversary we got to have the "mixed" room to ourselves. There we also some cool snails feasting upon unseen bacteria that geothermal water tends to contain.
Last Friday I was the emcee at the school's annual International Day. This year's slogan was " Let's enjoy yourself together," prepared by the straight-laced supervising manager of all things international. You can't knock him for trying. This of course reminds me of an old, rehashed but mildly amusing story often told to me by my Mutti:
Wandering around Munich in the late months of 1970, she apprached Die Poletzei and asked:
"Wie ist die Brucke," rather that "Wo ist die Brucke." How, rather that where. I'm sure the German policeman was amused at this young, quite striking American asking him the innermost feelings of a giant granite bridge span.
Found, with a coarse erstwhile fun-loving Londoner's assistance, probably the most interesting bar in Kobe. Also enjoyed some stirring conversations (in short supply during the workweek) while sitting on the steps of the downtown's Shinto shrine. So thanks you two for a fun night out.
Also enjoyed a great walk to and from the shop. We are adding some bamboo screens to block the intense sunlight that peeps in each morning. Sunrise is now 4:45 am, with sunset being about 7:30. The neigbor lady, whom must be 85 if she's a day, enjoys this early sunrise to wake up us up with her early dawn houscleaning shenanigans.
Headed to Canada to climb the world's 2nd biggest granite monolith. What have I signed on to?
Will provide all the white knuckled details as they exert themselves.
first, a trip to secretive Iya valley, essentially in the center of Shikoku. Rented the tiniest car available, with a 660 CC motor. I can't envision exactly what size that is, but it topped out at about 100 KPH, or 60 miles per hour.
Iya is so green and remote, its windy roads are a marvel. We passed several secluded hamlets where residents' link to the outside world is via self-propelled cable cars. The lowest population density I have seen in Japan had to be this area of rural western Tokushima prefecture.
Also I got to visit a nifty temple, Ryozenji, #1 on the 88 temple circuit. 87 more to go. Drove by # 5 and #8 but does that count?
I stayed at a 300 year old famrhouse, Chiiori (www.chiiori.org) that was the brainchild of famous Alex Kerr, whom rescued the homestead from decay and helped spawn the Woofing, organic farming network that continues to attract foriegn visitors and Japanese alike.
Also enjoyed a trip to an onsen. Being the 2nd anniversary we got to have the "mixed" room to ourselves. There we also some cool snails feasting upon unseen bacteria that geothermal water tends to contain.
Last Friday I was the emcee at the school's annual International Day. This year's slogan was " Let's enjoy yourself together," prepared by the straight-laced supervising manager of all things international. You can't knock him for trying. This of course reminds me of an old, rehashed but mildly amusing story often told to me by my Mutti:
Wandering around Munich in the late months of 1970, she apprached Die Poletzei and asked:
"Wie ist die Brucke," rather that "Wo ist die Brucke." How, rather that where. I'm sure the German policeman was amused at this young, quite striking American asking him the innermost feelings of a giant granite bridge span.
Found, with a coarse erstwhile fun-loving Londoner's assistance, probably the most interesting bar in Kobe. Also enjoyed some stirring conversations (in short supply during the workweek) while sitting on the steps of the downtown's Shinto shrine. So thanks you two for a fun night out.
Also enjoyed a great walk to and from the shop. We are adding some bamboo screens to block the intense sunlight that peeps in each morning. Sunrise is now 4:45 am, with sunset being about 7:30. The neigbor lady, whom must be 85 if she's a day, enjoys this early sunrise to wake up us up with her early dawn houscleaning shenanigans.
Headed to Canada to climb the world's 2nd biggest granite monolith. What have I signed on to?
Will provide all the white knuckled details as they exert themselves.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
A writing instructor has told me that I need to work on my transitions.
I ate bangladesh food and enjoyed my associate's farmhouse, complete with real forest!
The concept of Migraine visited our "cultural dwelling" last weekend. The Japanese medicial profession rolled up their sleeves and thanks to an imported Phizer pill, whose name I've forgotton, I was better soon.
A conference was cut short due to a fever. I think I'm allergic to my lack of career progression.
More to follow...
I ate bangladesh food and enjoyed my associate's farmhouse, complete with real forest!
The concept of Migraine visited our "cultural dwelling" last weekend. The Japanese medicial profession rolled up their sleeves and thanks to an imported Phizer pill, whose name I've forgotton, I was better soon.
A conference was cut short due to a fever. I think I'm allergic to my lack of career progression.
More to follow...
Around Kansai: Hiking the Tunnels of Takedao (武田尾)
Takedao, lying in unincorporated Takarazuka city, is made famous by its tunnels. These brick-encrusted tunnels date from the pre-WWII era. Cold, sometimes frost-encrusted winters here give way to breezy, cool respites to sweltering Kansai summer heat. Add in unspoiled greenery, picnicking grounds and fresh air for the makings of lovely day out.
The hiking (some would say walking) course follows a section of the former JR Sanda rail line which follows the Mukogawa river (which empties into Osaka Bay). The tunneled railway line was fully decommissioned in 1986. Hikers arrive at JR Takedao via its’ straighter, faster replacement, veering west away from the river canyon and barreling under Nishinomiya’s northern suburbs.
Cross aging iron trestles, whose rotting timbers afford you a bird’s eye of view the river’s emerald-green waters as they cascade down numerous series of rapids, spillways and chutes. The river level here varies considerably depending on rainfall, evidenced by a giant tree stump wedged into a bridge in front of JR Takedao. That’s almost 15 meters above normal river levels! Don’t forget to bring along a flashlight: several of the course’s seven tunnels are curved at an angle that shuns all outside light.
While the tunnels can be done as a one-way trip, this route ends at busy Rte 176, Hyogo Prefecture’s north-south artery. (Here, there is the option to walk downriver 1 km to JR Namaze) With this in mind, it is recommended to turn around and retrace your steps. The most you’ll walk during your day at Takedao is about five kilometers.
As of spring 2005 the railroad ties were being removed and replaced with coarse crushed rock. So where sneakers used to suffice, sturdy hiking shoes are advised.
On your return leg, Sakura House comes recommended; they offer a good mix of seasonal desserts, snacks, beverages and the usual Japanese noodle dishes. Look for the Swiss-inspired wooden hut in the picnic parking area. They have staked out prime riverfront views to boot.
Conveniently for motorists, vehicle access is easy and free, providing locals and city folk alike with many picnic areas near the start of the trail.
Getting there: Takedao is on the JR Takarazuka line. Be sure to board a local train bound for Sanda (三田). One way fares include: Hankyu Sannomiya: \450; Kawaramachi, \710 and Osaka: \460.
---
*Another hike in the vicinity could make for a full day of Takarazuka-area rambling. This second option links Hankyu Yamamoto and Kiyoshi Koujin Stations, offering a stopoff at Nakayama, home to a fertility shrine for aspiring mothers-to-be. Budget five hours and pack a lunch to enjoy at Nakayaya’s summit, a fire-scarred promenade which also provides an eagle-eyed view of all the action at nearby Itami Airport. From Hankyu Yamamoto, take the north exit and proceed up the obvious path, signed in English as a Pilgrim’s Trail. The trail ends at the famous Kioshikoujin shrine, with a nice shopping arcade descent to the station of the same name.
Takedao, lying in unincorporated Takarazuka city, is made famous by its tunnels. These brick-encrusted tunnels date from the pre-WWII era. Cold, sometimes frost-encrusted winters here give way to breezy, cool respites to sweltering Kansai summer heat. Add in unspoiled greenery, picnicking grounds and fresh air for the makings of lovely day out.
The hiking (some would say walking) course follows a section of the former JR Sanda rail line which follows the Mukogawa river (which empties into Osaka Bay). The tunneled railway line was fully decommissioned in 1986. Hikers arrive at JR Takedao via its’ straighter, faster replacement, veering west away from the river canyon and barreling under Nishinomiya’s northern suburbs.
Cross aging iron trestles, whose rotting timbers afford you a bird’s eye of view the river’s emerald-green waters as they cascade down numerous series of rapids, spillways and chutes. The river level here varies considerably depending on rainfall, evidenced by a giant tree stump wedged into a bridge in front of JR Takedao. That’s almost 15 meters above normal river levels! Don’t forget to bring along a flashlight: several of the course’s seven tunnels are curved at an angle that shuns all outside light.
While the tunnels can be done as a one-way trip, this route ends at busy Rte 176, Hyogo Prefecture’s north-south artery. (Here, there is the option to walk downriver 1 km to JR Namaze) With this in mind, it is recommended to turn around and retrace your steps. The most you’ll walk during your day at Takedao is about five kilometers.
As of spring 2005 the railroad ties were being removed and replaced with coarse crushed rock. So where sneakers used to suffice, sturdy hiking shoes are advised.
On your return leg, Sakura House comes recommended; they offer a good mix of seasonal desserts, snacks, beverages and the usual Japanese noodle dishes. Look for the Swiss-inspired wooden hut in the picnic parking area. They have staked out prime riverfront views to boot.
Conveniently for motorists, vehicle access is easy and free, providing locals and city folk alike with many picnic areas near the start of the trail.
Getting there: Takedao is on the JR Takarazuka line. Be sure to board a local train bound for Sanda (三田). One way fares include: Hankyu Sannomiya: \450; Kawaramachi, \710 and Osaka: \460.
---
*Another hike in the vicinity could make for a full day of Takarazuka-area rambling. This second option links Hankyu Yamamoto and Kiyoshi Koujin Stations, offering a stopoff at Nakayama, home to a fertility shrine for aspiring mothers-to-be. Budget five hours and pack a lunch to enjoy at Nakayaya’s summit, a fire-scarred promenade which also provides an eagle-eyed view of all the action at nearby Itami Airport. From Hankyu Yamamoto, take the north exit and proceed up the obvious path, signed in English as a Pilgrim’s Trail. The trail ends at the famous Kioshikoujin shrine, with a nice shopping arcade descent to the station of the same name.