whenever i come home, there’s always something new to discover— whether it be an old bakery turned into a tooth-whitening salon, the demise of the crayon house (rip), or the new red curry on the menu of my local thai spot. a city like tokyo is, by design, in a constant state of flux.
of course, the act of coming home brings with it a number of staples (an inaugural salmon onigiri from family mart, among other things), but after coming home and leaving so many times, the real non-negotiables have bubbled to the top — opening up some wiggle room to try something new.
here’s what i discovered this trip:
たくあん takuan (pickled radish): it’s no secret that i’m infatuated with pickles. however, my indulgences have mostly been done with a western lens. i was grocery shopping for dinner one evening, and i felt a gravitational pull of sorts towards the tsukemono (picked vegetables) section of the supermarket. fate is the only reasonable explanation to this.
my relationship with tsukemono had been nothing special. i’ve always delighted in the thinly sliced ginger served alongside sushi and the sweet almost chutney-like eggplant served alongside curry rice. other than being a palate cleanser, i didn’t have much to say about it.
that all changed when i decided to put the long, bright yellow takuan (pickled daikon) into my shopping cart. biting into a slice of takuan is a textural experience that turns the notion of pickle-eating from a supporting role to the main act. initially, your teeth sink softly in to what almost feels like biting down on a pillow. then, as if a magician was playing a trick, your teeth crunch down on what can only be described as the crunchiest crunch you have ever experienced — not as watery as a cucumber, but not as resilient as a carrot. each subsequent crunch culminates into a series of chews that releases a flavour that is somehow pungent yet mild, funky yet subdued with a slight citrusy aftertaste.
this little pickle defies all laws of the eating experience. it’s made first by sun drying the daikon, then salting it before submerging it in a rice bran-based fermentation medium. what i would do for an invitation to that party. as i type this, the noise of construction outside my flat has gone silent — my ears are flooded with an orchestra with that crunch as a downbeat.
soy and soy-adjacent products: the soybean has had the unfortunate fate of becoming the poster child for industrialised food in america, but in japan it’s a bit of a different story: whether that be in the form of tofu, natto (fermented soybeans), soy milk, yuba (tofu skin), or okara (soy pulp) the soybean still runs supreme. (disregard the phenomenon that makes japanese foods sound utterly unappetising when translated to english. all this stuff is delicious, i promise.)
on my way to japan, i watched a japanese variety show that eccentrically explained the benefits of this humble bean (i watched the episode for a second time on my way back to berlin). inspired, a cup of warm soymilk became my preferred way to polish off a meal — warmed to increase the bioavailability of isoflavones, per the variety show.
i contemplated bringing back a carton or two of this liquid gold, but i decided against it since pulling up to willy brandenburg airport with a bag drenched in soymilk may not be the best look. alas, soymilk and products alike will just have to be added to the long list of things to look forward to.
japanese starbucks: i’ve always had an affinity towards japanese starbucks. this trip i frequented my local starbucks so often, the staff would begin preparing my short, soy (influenced ^) matcha latte with extra foam as soon as i set foot into the hygge atmosphere that every starbucks in japan seems to have.
when thinking of a starbucks in america, the one perched at the end of usc’s fraternity row comes to mind; its inside vacant as if on the set of the walking dead, yet it was never without a snake of a drive-through line weaving its way down figueroa street. japanese starbucks is a different story. it is actually considered a chic hangout spot for citizens to sit down and enjoy a cappuccino perhaps alongside a seasonal baked good. the chocolate chunk scone is my ride or die, heated up and dipped into the foam of a matcha latte is the ultimate way to tuck into 3pm.
pumpkin spice is arguably the high season for starbucks in america. that, alongside the not-so-secret-secret-menu ensure that american consumers’ tastebuds stay entertained. in japan, things are, pardon my redundancy, a little different. with a “love and happiness” campaign last november to an apple-centric menu inspired by aomori prefecture’s annual apple festival, it’s safe to say that the starbucks seasonal menu in japan is one that never ceases to delight.
2023 welcomed the beginning of the matcha genmai mochi frappuccino and latte— made with not one, not two, but three different kinds of matcha, genmaicha (brown rice tea), and topped with whipped cream, white chocolate powder, matcha mousse, and a toasted mochi. try ordering that at a starbucks in america.
step aside birthday cake, there’s a new frap in town.
yes, i acknowledge that all of these are food related, but the reality is that when i come home, my days consist mainly of eating, walking, and repeating — so it should come to no surprise that the tidbits i uncovered fell into this vein :)
people always ask me": “when is the best time to visit japan?”
my answer: “yesterday.”
the way you described the daikon - amazing
starbucks in asia hit different 🥰