I woke up early, and coffee was the first thing on my mind. I’d slept well that night, and was feeling more myself as I headed down and met my colleague for the buffet. Much like the day before, I had a mixture of American breakfast foods, eggs, and sushi and dumplings. The dumplings here are really good and I need to find a way to make this my breakfast at home!
We headed into the office, intent on getting lunch on our own today, and after a few meetings and customer-facing meetings where more business cards were exchanged, it was time to go to lunch. We glanced out the windows to get a lay of the land (sorry, not really a better picture than this).
My office is right by a park and the train stations, across the street from the World Trade Center in Japan.
As we walked along, we spoke about the changing culture of Japan in general. Having never been before, I didn’t know what to expect, but my boss was very surprised by the lack of suits and ties that we saw. The culture, he said, was growing more casual. We’d notice this in our business meetings as well, some of our partners and vendors were downright friendly and breached protocol. One even went as far as apologizing for not being polite, and breaking protocol. I wouldn’t have known one way or the other, but everyone in the room was very accepting and even some of our partners forewent a tie when meeting with us. Even a year ago, I was told, this would have never been acceptable. Wondering long term what that means for a culture that prides itself on its polite approach, we decided to fill our bellies along the street.
Walking to Lunch in downtown Tokyo
We would end up trying a few restaurants, only to be turned away by the staff. We’re still not sure if it was because we stuck out so much, or perhaps they didn’t have menus in English. I was happy to use my phone to translate (Google Translate can translate pictures now, live. It’s pretty amazing) but we were ushered away before we could even try to sit down. Other restaurants expected local currency in advance and you punched your order into a machine. Having no idea how this worked, and not having local currency, we kept on looking.
I should mention at this point that normally I am never without local currency. It’s a safe bet that when traveling it’s better to be caught with local money than caught without it… but on this trip I was told not to bother with it, twice. Originally I had planned on exchanging currency at the airport even after having been told I would not need it… but when our plane was four hours delayed on arrival and the buses were shut down… we were in too much of a hurry to get a taxi and I was again told that everywhere went would have credit card readers. Relying on the experience of others, I elected not to carry any yen at all.
This would prove to be a problem at lunch, when after we did finally find a restaurant that advertised “English Menu” and allowed us to sit down… we didn’t think to ask if they took credit. I did about ten minutes into our order, but was once again assured by my colleague that they’d seen it downstairs and all was well. I ate my bento box, enjoying the cold noodles, fish, and accoutrements. I was surprised by one gelatinous thing that was brown in color and scored with a knife to look like fish flesh. (top left of the four boxes in the picture below). I guessed it was tofu, and after eating a coppery bite I had a better idea that it was some type of congealed gelatin and blood mixture. I did finish it, but it’s probably not something I’d try again if I had my druthers. I also had one of the most amazing miso soups I have ever had in my life.
A bento box for lunch, including an amazing miso soup!
Once we finished, I couldn’t help but notice everyone was pulling out cash and heading to the register downstairs (we were motioned upstairs upon entering, which is where they seated English speakers as far as I can tell). I was starting to get a bad feeling when I got to the counter and didn’t see a card reader.
“No Credit!” the attendant behind the counter said, “Only cash!”, and after a feeble attempt in English to explain we’d need to get cash, she pointed across the street. “Bank!”
My colleague headed out the door, and I stood by, playing collateral for lunch awaiting rescue from a nearby ATM. Twenty minutes later… I was informed the bank across the street was only in Japanese, and my colleague grabbed a few of the other English speakers from upstairs who were willing to help. Thirty minutes after that… I was beginning to translate things like “I am very sorry, can I leave you American dollars or a card until I go get cash for myself.” and “I am not sure where my colleague went”, when suddenly he appeared walking in the door again.
“I found an ATM that is in English”, he said, “but it declined all my cards. Could you go to the FamilyMart at the end of the street and give it a try?”
I laughed a little, imagining that being the “world traveler” that I am, and all the times I’ve talked to my bank about never cancelling my cards no matter where transactions show up as I always seem to be somewhere exotic doing something costly, I would have much better luck. I skipped the corporate card, and used my old trusty bank card that has worked for me all over the world. When I got to the screen asking how much Yen I wanted to take out, however… I realized my folly. I’d never even considered the exchange rate here. I had no idea how much I’d need! I almost hit “Other”, but instead opted to remove 40,000 yen from my bank account. The ATM happily fed me the money, and returned my card. Success! It wasn’t until I tried to pay with the 10,000 Yen note, and the lady behind the counter said “No. Too Big!” that I realized I might have overestimated.
We argued back and forth for a bit before finally the lady agreed to break the bill. I paid for lunch, and we went back to the office. Discussing exchange rates, we realized why my colleague’s card had been declined. He’d upped the request to 60,000 yen just to be safe, or just over $500 US. As it would turn out, I’d asked for $357 in yen, and we only had about 24-hours left in Japan total. I laughed throughout the experience, and we both agreed we’ll never be caught without local currency again.
Back at work, we were just in time for customer meetings to end the day, and then flew back to our hotel room to drop our bags before heading out again. We were given an address with instructions for a cab driver, all in Japanese (English letters, of course, are unreadable to most here), and soon we’d been dropped off at the right building. The only problem was… once again we weren’t able to find the place we were supposed to be! After walking back and forth a few times looking confused, a very friendly lady showed us the way to a nondescript doorway on the side of a building. Having no sign, we felt a bit odd sliding the door open and heading into what could have been any business or private residence, but we did see what looked like a menu outside and we hoped it would be the right place.
We were greeted by two women in kimonos, who asked us to remove our shoes and put them in a locker. Each locker had a key tied to a small bell, and after taking our suit coats they encouraged us to hold tightly to the keys. Still unsure we were in the right place, we hesitantly followed them down a hallway where they slid open another door, revealing our work colleagues we were meeting, seating around a table that was sunken into the floor. Seating ourselves on the available, open cushions, we slid our legs under the table and into an open space underneath where we could sit normally and take a look at the table. We were informed we were about to eat Shabu-shabu.
Shabu-shabu!
Originally, each of the boxes in the above picture was covered with a decorative lid, and appetizers were brought… but we greeted each other and dove in so quickly I was not able to get that picture. The next hour or so however, as we ate, was something I will never forget.
In the middle of the table, there were two bowls of water slowly simmering in what look like giant coffee filters (except they hold the water in). Each box contains items to place in the water to cook. Initially, this includes a great deal of green leaves for flavoring and to eat, tofu, bean sprouts, more tofu, and spices. The glass on the table with what looks like water was sake, and there was plenty of that to go around as well! The two bowls, one with what looks like soy sauce and the other with a peanut/ginger sauce, were to dip fully cooked items in once they had boiled in the water. In addition to all this were pickled red peppers to add spice (one of the most amazing things I have ever tasted), as well as hot peppers to add texture and just a bit more “oomph” to your dipping sauces.
As we talked, the individual on the right side of the picture (one of my coworkers) across the table from me took the role of “host”, and walked me through what would happen next. They added a great deal of vegetables and tofu to the pot using special, communal black chopsticks. They would take some from time to time and give them to me in my bowl of sauce so that I could enjoy it. This was done all around, and we took turns filling each other’s sake as well so that no one ever filled their own (one tradition I’m at least aware of!) After the water was well-flavored and we were nearly out of vegetables, it was time to take the paper-thin slices of meat, and cook them.
Wagyu beef used for shabu-shabu
Everyone at the table encouraged me to go first, and I grabbed the communal chopsticks only to be corrected “no, no!” they said, “you can use your own for this!” They then had me take some, and demonstrated taking the meat and swishing it back and forth for 4-10 seconds or so in the water. The meat was so thin it turned brown almost instantly, and I’m pretty sure they were constantly thinking I overcooked mine, but I tried to take it out the moment it turned brown. Each of us took turns with our meat, and soon the water was looking quite oily. My host for dinner again went to work, and used a special spoon to scoop the rendered oil and fat off the top of the water, cleaning the bowl as he went. I’d learn that this is the reason for the coffee-filter shape, it’s the same size as the spoon and allows the fat to gather in all the right places to be collected, and removed. All in all, it was an amazing night and an amazing experience. Any time we got too hot (it’s sort of like a food sauna), we would push a button to call a lady in a kimono who would turn on an amazing air conditioning system that would clear the room nearly instantly. They brought us more sake, and then gave us noodles as a “last course” to put in the broth we’d been creating all night. This turned into a soup of sorts, and we ate noodles and drank some of the water that had been well-seasoned by our cooking while still incorporating our dipping sauces along the way. We’d finish the night with dessert, a small mango-flavored pear and a sweet tofu. We thanked our hosts, collected our shoes, and headed back to the hotel.
For those of you that read my blog, you probably already know this… but this dinner is the type of experience that makes me love travel. Throughout the meal we swapped jokes, we talked about my New Zealand trip and bungee jumping. We talked about family, where my coworkers live, and how life in Japan happens day to day (Shabu-shabu is not something they would do everyday… it’s more of a special occasion deal, and given that it is costly only really, really special occasions). During the meal they were kind enough to share their experience with the meal, helped me to know when I was doing things right and wrong, and we laughed and proceeded through dinner almost in a ceremonial manner. My coworkers were sharing a part of their culture, a part of their traditions, and a unique experience I will likely never match outside of Japan. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to see a small part of Japanese culture, food, and fun. I would go back in a heartbeat and have this meal again, but this night was special both for the experience and the company, and it is a memory I will cherish for a very long time.
We said goodbye to our colleagues as we would be working from the hotel the next morning before our flight, and headed back to the hotel. Both very satisfied with how the day had gone, we briefly considered the whiskey bar before decision we were still too tired from the travel, and headed up to bed.
