We can't find the internet
Attempting to reconnect
Something went wrong!
Hang in there while we get back on track
Search results for "Davey Young"
Tokyo
Land of the Rising Dough: The Story of Bread in Japan
All things considered, bread is a relatively new arrival in Japan, having found its way there in 1543, when the first Portuguese ship arrived carrying missionaries and merchants who had come to spread the word of God and seek new markets. These Europeans brought with them commodities both tangible and intangible. When the Sakoku Edict, which essentially closed Japan to all international contact, came into effect in 1635, some of these commodities remained in one form or another. The vast majority of Japanese would never encounter bread during the subsequent Tokugawa Era (1603-1868), though the concept of doughy baked goods – pan in Japanese, from the Portuguese pão – remained.
Read moreTokyo
Kondo Honten: Simple Pleasures
Japan is well known for its variety of national dishes, as well as local specialties claimed by individual regions and cities. Tokyo, which boasts more Michelin stars than any city in the world, is a natural nexus for these disparate eats, as well as more international fare. It may come as a surprise, then, that Tokyo itself only really has one true homegrown specialty: monjayaki. The baseline ingredients for monjayaki, often referred to simply as monja, are nothing more than wheat flour and dashi, that ubiquitous Japanese broth made from kombu (kelp) and shavings of katsuobushi, dried, fermented and smoked skipjack tuna. Cabbage is also common enough to be considered a third basic ingredient.
Read moreTokyo
Behind Bars: Getting Tight at Tokyo’s Tight Bar
If it weren’t for the dozens of brightly lit signs and paper lanterns promising libations of every sort, you might mistake the two narrow alleys alongside the train tracks on the northeast side of Shibuya station for a derelict apartment block. In reality Nonbei Yokocho (AKA Drunkard’s Alley) is one of Tokyo’s few remaining yokocho (side street) bar districts. Like the much larger and better-known Golden Gai in Shinjuku, Nonbei Yokocho is a collection of aging and tightly packed microbars. Each watering hole is scarcely more than a few square meters, and if longtime regulars aren’t taking up the scant floor space, newcomers may try any number of doors before they find an empty seat.
Read moreTokyo
Land of the Rising Dough: The Story of Bread in Japan
All things considered, bread is a relatively new arrival in Japan, having found its way there in 1543, when the first Portuguese ship arrived carrying missionaries and merchants who had come to spread the word of God and seek new markets. These Europeans brought with them commodities both tangible and intangible. When the Sakoku Edict, which essentially closed Japan to all international contact, came into effect in 1635, some of these commodities remained in one form or another. The vast majority of Japanese would never encounter bread during the subsequent Tokugawa Era (1603-1868), though the concept of doughy baked goods – pan in Japanese, from the Portuguese pão – remained.
Read moreTokyo
Liquid Assets: Deciphering Sake in the Japanese Capital
The consumption of sake is a sacrosanct affair in Japan. In Japanese, the term “sake” technically denotes all alcohol, though it is often used interchangeably with the less ambiguous “nihonshu.” The true genesis of the island nation’s archetypal brew is lost to time, though the divine concoction of water, rice, yeast and koji mold likely originated, or at least became more standardized, sometime during the Nara period (710-784 AD) when Empress Genmei consolidated rule over an agrarian society. Most people in this fledgling nation state participated in animistic and ancestral folk worship, within which rice, and by extension nihonshu, came to play important ritualistic roles.
Read moreTokyo
Ushitora: Land of the Rising Suds
When Japan’s last shogun ceded control of the country in 1868 and a centuries-old closed-door policy was reversed, foreign influences on the country grew from a trickle to a steady stream. Foreign residents were confined to restricted living areas, one of the largest one being in Yokohama, just south of Tokyo. Capitalizing on their fellow expatriates’ homesickness, some enterprising Westerners began importing or even brewing beer. In fact, the brewery that would become Kirin, one of Japan’s most ubiquitous tipples, was founded by a Norwegian by way of America in 1869 or 1870.
Read moreTokyo
Liquid Assets: Deciphering Sake in the Japanese Capital
The consumption of sake is a sacrosanct affair in Japan. In Japanese, the term “sake” technically denotes all alcohol, though it is often used interchangeably with the less ambiguous “nihonshu.” The true genesis of the island nation’s archetypal brew is lost to time, though the divine concoction of water, rice, yeast and koji mold likely originated, or at least became more standardized, sometime during the Nara period (710-784 AD) when Empress Genmei consolidated rule over an agrarian society. Most people in this fledgling nation state participated in animistic and ancestral folk worship, within which rice, and by extension nihonshu, came to play important ritualistic roles.
Read moreTokyo
Kondo Honten: Simple Pleasures
Japan is well known for its variety of national dishes, as well as local specialties claimed by individual regions and cities. Tokyo, which boasts more Michelin stars than any city in the world, is a natural nexus for these disparate eats, as well as more international fare. It may come as a surprise, then, that Tokyo itself only really has one true homegrown specialty: monjayaki. The baseline ingredients for monjayaki, often referred to simply as monja, are nothing more than wheat flour and dashi, that ubiquitous Japanese broth made from kombu (kelp) and shavings of katsuobushi, dried, fermented and smoked skipjack tuna. Cabbage is also common enough to be considered a third basic ingredient.
Read moreTokyo
Karē wa Nomimono: Japanese Curry Roulette
There’s a general rule of thumb in Tokyo that if you see a line in front of a restaurant, it’s probably worth standing in. Maybe that’s how we first discovered Karē wa Nomimono. Or maybe it was the heady scent of fresh curry that wafts out the kitchen door before the restaurant opens every day. As many times as we’ve been back, it’s hard to remember. Touted as a national dish since at least the mid-20th century, curry rice is for many Japanese the quintessential comfort food. While some shops pride themselves on making curry just like mom used to, others are taking the classic dish in bold new directions.
Read moreTokyo
Tsukiji Market Is Dead, Long Live Tsukiji Market
It’s the end of an era for Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market. Saturday, October 6, will be the last day of operation for the world’s largest fish market, after which it will relocate two kilometers east to a new site on the manmade island of Toyosu. The move has been in the works for years (it was first announced way back in 2001), but with 2020 Olympic deadlines looming (the vacant site was a promised piece of infrastructure in the capital city’s bid to host), “Tokyo’s Kitchen” will be closing an 83-year chapter. As Tsukiji’s main wholesale marketplace is one of Tokyo’s few extant pre-World War II structures, darn near anyone you ask is sad to see it go. Tsukiji has a sense of place stronger than anywhere else in Tokyo, but ironically, the inner market has accumulated all of its site-specific charm in direct proportion to its decay.
Read moreTokyo
Tokyo Kissaten: Coffee and (Minimal) Conversation
Our eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light upon walking into Ladrio. The room is like a vault, its brick walls and floor emitting a scent familiar to anyone who’s ever been in a cave or stone cellar. This mustiness is comforting, however, and the cool air a welcome reprieve from the furnace of the Tokyo summer outside. Soon we can make out several low tables extending back into the narrow space. People sit alone or in pairs sipping coffee or puffing cigarettes. Some converse in hushed tones as Edith Piaf is piped quietly from an unseen stereo. A few heads swivel in our direction but gazes never linger here.
Read moreTokyo
Tori-niku Kenkyuujo: The Chicken Lab
Walking through Tokyo’s Shin-Okubo neighborhood – AKA Koreatown – can be sensory overload. It’s Saturday night, and we weave through throngs of people along Okubo Street, passing crowded cafes and Korean cosmetics shops. The soundtrack of Korean pop music drifting from every restaurant and café is punctuated by shouts from inside a Korean grocery or the blare of a pachinko parlor. Every shop is painted in an audacious purple or pink or else a dazzling orange or yellow, competing for attention. Scents of foods spicy and sweet drift from storefronts. Tokyoites come to Koreatown for two reasons: shopping and food, but we haven’t come to shop. The crowds thin out along Shin-Okubo’s backstreets, though the shops and restaurants are just as packed.
Read moreTokyo
Behind Bars: Getting Tight at Tokyo’s Tight Bar
If it weren’t for the dozens of brightly lit signs and paper lanterns promising libations of every sort, you might mistake the two narrow alleys alongside the train tracks on the northeast side of Shibuya station for a derelict apartment block. In reality Nonbei Yokocho (AKA Drunkard’s Alley) is one of Tokyo’s few remaining yokocho (side street) bar districts. Like the much larger and better-known Golden Gai in Shinjuku, Nonbei Yokocho is a collection of aging and tightly packed microbars. Each watering hole is scarcely more than a few square meters, and if longtime regulars aren’t taking up the scant floor space, newcomers may try any number of doors before they find an empty seat.
Read moreTokyo
Hinata: A Cut(let) Above
Arriving at Hinata one recent winter afternoon, we luckily found most of the restaurant’s 14 counter seats empty. Hinata serves just one thing: tonkatsu, breaded and fried pork cutlets traditionally served with cabbage and rice. The space is simple but snazzy, all brick-shaped white tiles and pale wood. The menu hangs from wooden slats on the wall, and on this day sported a handwritten addendum saying that our usual order, the standard roast cutlet priced at ¥1,300, was out for the day. The lunch rush must have been a busy one. We decided to splurge on the shop specialty, tonkatsu made with a fatty top rib cut for ¥2,500.
Read moreTokyo
Best Bites 2017: Tokyo
This year saw record-breaking numbers of tourists descend on Tokyo, and a handful more Michelin stars to further the capital’s lead over every other city in the world. Feeling vicariously fatigued from all this attention, for the most part I tried my best to avoid both the throngs of tourists and Michelin-grade ostentation this year, though both proved impossible to elude completely. For that reason, my most memorable meals in 2017 were a combination of old favorites and unexpected discoveries. Ushitora: I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve spent an entire evening unwinding at a corner table in Ushitora.
Read moreTokyo
Han no Daidokoro Dogenzaka: Move Over Kobe
In the world of wagyu (marbled Japanese beef), Kobe beef is king. However, the demand for this fabled fatty meat has so far outstripped the supply as to send prices forever skyward. Yet lesser known varieties can be every bit as good as, if not superior to, the more celebrated Kobe cuts. As with Kobe beef, the Yamagata variety is named after a place, in this case the mostly mountainous prefecture of Yamagata, which abuts the Sea of Japan in the country’s northeastern Tohoku region. But in order to be certified as Yamagata beef, simply being raised in the prefecture isn’t enough. True Yamagata beef can only come from castrated males of the Kuroge Washu (Japanese Black) breed of cattle raised within the prefecture.
Read moreTokyo
Land of the Rising Dough: The Story of Bread in Japan
All things considered, bread is relatively new arrival in Japan, having found its way there in 1543, when the first Portuguese ship arrived carrying missionaries and merchants who had come to spread the word of God and seek new markets. These Europeans brought with them commodities both tangible and intangible. When the Sakoku Edict, which essentially closed Japan to all international contact, came into effect in 1635, some of these commodities remained in one form or another. The vast majority of Japanese would never encounter bread during the subsequent Tokugawa Era (1603-1868), though the concept of doughy baked goods – pan in Japanese, from the Portuguese pão – remained.
Read moreTokyo
Ushitora: Land of the Rising Suds
When Japan’s last shogun ceded control of the country in 1868 and a centuries-old closed-door policy was reversed, foreign influences on the country grew from a trickle to a steady stream. Foreign residents were confined to restricted living areas, one of the largest one being in Yokohama, just south of Tokyo. Capitalizing on their fellow expatriates’ homesickness, some enterprising Westerners began importing or even brewing beer. In fact, the brewery that would become Kirin, one of Japan’s most ubiquitous tipples, was founded by a Norwegian by way of America in 1869 or 1870. As a domestic market for beer emerged, the Meiji government sent fledgling brewers to train in Germany and elsewhere, as well as brought in American advisors to help grow the industry.
Read moreTokyo
Kondo Honten: Simple Pleasures
Japan is well known for its variety of national dishes, as well as local specialties claimed by individual regions and cities. Tokyo, which boasts more Michelin stars than any city in the world, is a natural nexus for these disparate eats, as well as more international fare. It may come as a surprise, then, that Tokyo itself only really has one true homegrown specialty: monjayaki. The baseline ingredients for monjayaki, often referred to simply as monja, are nothing more than wheat flour and dashi, that ubiquitous Japanese broth made from kombu (kelp) and shavings of katsuobushi, dried, fermented and smoked skipjack tuna. Cabbage is also common enough to be considered a third basic ingredient.
Read moreTokyo
Hanabi: Turning Taiwanese
It’s an unseasonably warm winter day as we make our way through the residential backstreets of Higashi-Shinjuku. Drying laundry hangs on nearly every balcony of the low-rise apartments beneath a cloudless, blue sky. The streets are nearly empty, but rounding the final corner to our destination we join a stream of people from all four points of the compass congregating in front of the Tokyo branch of Nagoya-based maze-soba shop Hanabi. The story of how this particular noodle dish came to be is a winding one. In the 1970s, the Taiwanese chef Meiyū Kaku was living in Nagoya and missed a few choice flavors from home.
Read moreTokyo
Best Bites 2016: Tokyo
This was a year of culinary highs for sure, ranging from the ridiculous to the seriously sublime. McDonald’s Choco-Pumpkin fries Yes, you’ve read correctly. While out researching some serious Halloween treats I stumbled on a Mickey D’s seasonal specialty for Japan – Choco-Pumpkin fries. Not only did a picture of it on the menu look pretty awful, the thought of neither salt nor ketchup on my spuds seemed so wrong. And yet it turned out to be a truly impressive surprise. The standard fries at McDonald’s – or, as it’s known in Japan, makudonarudo – came with a packet of chocolate syrup and a packet of pumpkin syrup that you swirl over them yourself.
Read moreTokyo
Udon Shin: Rolled to Order
Anticipating a line, we arrived ahead of our appetite, but the slightly acrid smell of fresh dashi wafting over the street hurried our hunger. Tucked behind a handful of confounding corners southwest of Shinjuku Station in a mixed-use neighborhood of apartments, shops and offices, Udon Shin has consistently ranked among the best udon restaurants in Tokyo since opening in April 2011. At around ¥1000 (US$9) per meal, you feel like you're getting away with something. Owner and chef Shinji Narahara deftly handles the classic accompaniment to udon (think homemade dashi, deep-fried tofu and tempura) but elevates the humble noodle to modern heights with their trademark carbonara udon.
Read moreTokyo
Tori-niku Kenkyuujo: The Chicken Lab
Walking through Tokyo’s Shin-Okubo neighborhood – AKA Koreatown – can be sensory overload. It’s Saturday night, and we weave through throngs of people along Okubo Street, passing crowded cafes and Korean cosmetics shops. The soundtrack of Korean pop music drifting from every restaurant and café is punctuated by shouts from inside a Korean grocery or the blare of a pachinko parlor. Every shop is painted in an audacious purple or pink or else a dazzling orange or yellow, competing for attention. Scents of foods spicy and sweet drift from storefronts. Tokyoites come to Koreatown for two reasons: shopping and food, but we haven’t come to shop.
Read moreTokyo
Tokyo Kissaten: Coffee and (Minimal) Conversation
Our eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light upon walking into Ladrio. The room is like a vault, its brick walls and floor emitting a scent familiar to anyone who’s ever been in a cave or stone cellar. This mustiness is comforting, however, and the cool air a welcome reprieve from the furnace of the Tokyo summer outside. Soon we can make out several low tables extending back into the narrow space. People sit alone or in pairs sipping coffee or puffing cigarettes. Some converse in hushed tones as Edith Piaf is piped quietly from an unseen stereo. A few heads swivel in our direction but gazes never linger here.
Read moreTokyo
Umeshu Dining Myoujou: Drink to Your Health
Long valued for its medicinal properties, the East Asian stone fruit ume appears in Japan’s oldest pharmacological dictionary, written in 918. Something between a plum an apricot, the ume is more acidic than both and rich in antioxidants. The first mention of umeshu, a liqueur made by steeping ume in usually distilled spirits and commonly translated as plum wine, came centuries later in a book of Japanese cuisine published in 1697. Ume’s medicinal value appears to have carried over, though, as this later work claims that the flavorful tonic both spurs the appetite and counteracts poisons.
Read moreTokyo
Behind Bars: Getting Tight at Tokyo's Tight Bar
If it weren’t for the dozens of brightly lit signs and paper lanterns promising libations of every sort, you might mistake the two narrow alleys alongside the train tracks on the northeast side of Shibuya station for a derelict apartment block. In reality Nonbei Yokocho (AKA Drunkard’s Alley) is one of Tokyo’s few remaining yokocho (side street) bar districts. Like the much larger and better-known Golden Gai in Shinjuku, Nonbei Yokocho is a collection of aging and tightly packed microbars. Each watering hole is scarcely more than a few square meters, and if longtime regulars aren’t taking up the scant floor space, newcomers may try any number of doors before they find an empty seat.
Read moreTokyo
Karē wa Nomimono: Japanese Curry Roulette
There’s a general rule of thumb in Tokyo that if you see a line in front of a restaurant, it’s probably worth standing in. Maybe that’s how we first discovered Karē wa Nomimono. Or maybe it was the heady scent of fresh curry that wafts out the kitchen door before the restaurant opens every day. As many times as we’ve been back, it’s hard to remember. Touted as a national dish since at least the mid-20th century, curry rice is for many Japanese the quintessential comfort food. While some shops pride themselves on making curry just like mom used to, others are taking the classic dish in bold new directions.
Read more