coco kare

The other day, i saw a report on the television where they tried to find out the food Japanese liked most. so they went to an airport and asked people who just returned from overseas what their first choice would be. and the choices where ramen and kare.
now, i wrote about ramen earlier. i always considered this one of the best casual meals of the japanese kitchen, but kare? that came as a surpise.
kare is the way japanese pronounce and write curry, and until now i always ignored the shops offering it, firstly because the way they advertise it reminds me of the generic school cafeteria food of my early childhood, nothing i remotely fancy. secondly i do not like curry in general and if i came round to eating it, the nan was the thing for me. and above all nan is not served with japanese curry.
but, given the fuzz i overcame my aversion against what looks like typical "brown" sauce, and tried it. this is a chain store and to me it feels like a shop can be found within a radius of 200 meters around you, wherever you are in central tokyo. the dishes are very generic, indeed. but also very customizable. every plate looks exactly the same as what you see in the menu and on your neighbors table. you have a number of standard toppings and degrees of spice. one thing i noticed is that you eat it with a spoon, which is very strange after being in japan for a couple of months. why do we stuff these huge metal object in our mouths in europe? very strange.


the one i had was a more fancy kare with shellfish and squid rings.
for 750 yen (5 euro). it was kind of good, but nothing special, really.
apparently japanese nostalgically associate their childhood with this dish, because mothers can prepare it easily and it is eaten often during the week. that explains the phenomenon above all, if you ask me.

bicycle diaries reloaded

it's spring and i have eaten myself fat. so i got my bicycle ready again, and it's tough... tireing.
but, my camera is ready and here is a little gallery of creatures of the night.


first off, a homeless carrying cardboardboxes worth a bunch of houses.








second up, a film crew faking rain.









and finally, a custom hummer.

music sounds better with you

Tokyo is a commercial hell. everything can be bought and will be sold. everyone could become a star. i am always astonished about the vastness of the japanese music market for instance. for those determined enough, the dream of fame and a never ending flow of cash might come true. that is why you will see street musicians and comedian wannabes in certain spots over tokyo. this one is at the bus station behind ikebukuro west. semi-professional with apparent talent, pressed CDs for sale and dodgy managers in the background. all that is missing is a contract with a major label. good luck.

get acquainted, nihon style.

Again, something very rare as you might imagine, for your viewing pleasure. i sneaked up on a shinto wedding complete with kimono on him and her. and for those who still struggle to get what japan is essentially about, a second picture to reassure you, that modern life is always close. the person in the center of the second picture with the hat on is the priest, the woman wearing the black kimono is the mother.
the shinto wedding is getting more fashionable lately, after some tv celebritys did it the traditional way. but most couples favour western style weddings.
for the average japanese religious correlations do not matter, one or the other way.

there is no use

First i wanted to leave this uncommented, but
hinting at how annoying her cheaply amplified repetetive set of advertising phrases is to everyone, would mean
throwing a blind eye at the implausibly extraordinary determination she shows at this beyond doubt lowest paid job out there.
i just can't decide whether to look up to in awe or look down in anger on her.

the spring has come

It is that time of the year again, plums and apricots are in bloom, and while some struggle to open their orifices to the wonders long due
others, young or old, willingly embrace springs attractions.