Death by pork

On Wednesday I visited Ginza for an early lunch. I wanted to go to Yurakucho Yakitori Alley, but unfortunately this place doesn't open until evening, so my geriatrically timed lunch there was a non-starter. Luckily, after only a little bit of walking around, I came across a menu with an exquisite cold bento at Syotoh.


After ordering the waitstaff brought three kinds of salt (sea salt, pink salt, and sesame) followed by this lovely box and some steamed vegetables and rice. From right to left, bottom to top:

• Tamago slice with asparagus and chicken rolled in a thin chicken cutlet
  
• Kabocha carved in a leaf shape, konnyaku cube and some sort of mollusk outside of shell
  
• Spinach with the tiny, squeaky fish and tofu batons
  
• Half a shrimp atop pickled zucchini (I think) in dashi
  
• Vegetable and konnyaku slivers, soybean and corn in black sesame paste
  
• An unidentifiable leaf-shaped pudding with daikon and carrot wrapped in aburaage
  
• Cube of silken tofu with pink salt
  
• Slice of pink pickled lotus, miso marinated cod and sweet yellow bean paste with raisins. This was a terrific mix of flavors in two bites.
  
• Milky green tea jelly steamed in a short length of bamboo with a red bean on top
  

After a refreshing meal, I headed out to find the local onsen, but got distracted by the sight of huge logs of pastries rotating in a glass display. Baumkuchen are so called because when cut, the slices resemble rings on a tree. The origins of Baumkuchen are disputed, but many cultures (including Poland, Sweden, and Indonesia) enjoy similar layered cakes.


In this version the batter is painted artfully onto the spit to cook one layer at a time, resulting in crenellated log whose cross sections are perfectly shaped for snacking. Verdict: very tasty. Rich and buttery, with a crunchy sugar glaze.


Ramen Jiro in Shinjuku was the night's dinner plan, so after a quick trip to the bath house I headed back to the hotel to rest in preparation for the most infamous, high-energy district in Tokyo. Ramen Jiro is somewhat of a cult destination for ramen fanatics. I have wanted to go ever since hearing the story of Andy Raskin losing his gallbladder in a quest for the ultimate Ramen Jiro experience: finishing the dai (large) ramen. Not wanting to lose any internal organs, Chris and I opted for the shou (small). The ordering protocol exhibits typical Japanese efficiency: you buy a ticket from a vending machine and give your ticket to the chef, paying and ordering in a single step.


The bowl is deceptively small, but inside is the ultimate homage to pig, that magical animal. It doesn't look any bigger than a typical ramen meal, and only contains two slices of pork, but don't be fooled. Underneath the pile of bean sprouts is a huge mass of noodles swimming in an emulsion of pork fat suspended in pork broth so rich it tastes as though a thousand pigs died to make it. Ramen purists object to the noodles (thicker and chewier than usual), but it's hard to imagine a more delicate noodle standing up to that broth. I made the fatal mistake of eating a steamed bao and onigiri from the 7-11 before leaving for Shinjuku (the early bento lunch, although lovely, was actually not very caloric), so I was only able to finish half of my meal. Chris slurped his down like a champ, however, and finished his entire bowl.

Afterwards we meandered through Kabuchiko to Golden Gai, where dozens of bars seat fewer than five patrons each, but we were too full of pork to get a drink. How unseemly!