Two kinds of soba at Nemurian. Fukushima on the left, and Tochigi on the right.
January 28, 2010
(Mainichi Japan)
"The soba comes from Yamagata," the woman said as she placed a box of thick, chewy soba noodles in front of me. Her name was Mori, and her family sold soba noodles in Yamagata.
Her husband trained there for a year before they opened their own soba restaurant in Tokyo. I was in Tokyo to celebrate the new year with my wife's family. Because soba is a traditional meal, we decided to make the most of it.
One of the things I like about Japanese culture is the near obsession that Japanese have with food ingredients. In New York, you can find a broader variety of food than in Tokyo, but in Tokyo you can travel deep into each type of Japanese dish.
The Mori's at their restaurant, Genshiro.
Our soba journey is a perfect example. At Genshiro, they grind their own soba flour on the premises, and make their noodles by hand. We discussed the thick, chewy soba. It reminded me of the chewy soba in Gujo that's called mochi mochi soba because of it's al dente texture. Genshiro serves the noodles with their special pheasant broth. It was a delicious combination.
The next day, we traveled to Akihabara to a hidden soba restaurant in a prewar building. The neighborhood is filled with stores and cafes that cater to various obsessions. There are anime shops, maid cafes, cosplay stores and electronics boutiques everywhere. True to the spirit of the nerd, Nemurian is for serious soba otaku.
The restaurant is run by an interesting man. He grinds the soba in his tiny shop each morning. But he selects soba from wherever he thinks is best for the season. Soba lovers are served two different kinds of soba noodles. Each plate is soba from a different part of Japan.
On the day we went, we ate soba from Tochigi and Fukushima. When they came to our table, set side by side, we noticed the Tochigi soba had a slight green color. The Fukushima soba had a rich soba flavor and a more delicate texture. The Tochigi soba was chewier and more subtle. It was really fun to taste two different kinds of soba side by side, and they both went well with the handmade tofu that was as rich as butter.
While we ate, we listened to jazz on the tube amplifier that the owner built himself. I felt like I was in the presence of a soba artist, enjoying his meal in his personal studio. Maybe that's because he sleeps upstairs.
Our last stop was the famous Yoshida restaurant in Ginza. I first ate there several years ago when my wife's dance teacher took us there. Yoshida has a classic Japanese feel, and it always seems to be busy. Their specialty is tenseiro, a cluster of deep fried vegetables and shrimp dropped into a bowl of salty broth with delicate soba noodles on the side.
Watching the crowd of well-dressed Ginza shoppers is almost as much fun as slurping up the extra long noodles. All three restaurants were wonderful, and it was a great way to celebrate the coming of the new year. (By Sean Sakamoto)
Sean Sakamoto traded the fast times in New York City for the slow life in Japan's countryside. He lives with his wife and son by a river in Gifu Prefecture. He's learning Japanese and wants everyone who's studying English to know that he feels your pain.
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