5th Monthly Beer Tasting: Belgian-Fusion Styles

All right, you all have been asking about it, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to answer individual emails until now, but here are the details:  

I hold themed beer tastings once a month.  So far, we’ve done a “Beer: 101″ course, a Belgian sour ale tasting, a saison & biere de garde tasting, and an IPA tasting.     

This event will be a tasting of Belgian Fusion styles.  What do I mean by that?  Well, probably the opposite of what you expect.  Lately, Belgian beers have gotten immensely popular in the USA, and a lot of American brewers have started making styles traditionally only brewed in Belgium.  However, at the moment, I’m more interested in the brewing creativity that has even more recetly started flowing in the opposite direction.  We’ll be investigating what happens when Belgian brewers start making American or British beer styles.  We’ll be covering five beers, plus a wild card of your choice. 

• Belgian Scotch Ales
  • Scotch Silly from Brasserie de Sill
• Belgian IPAs (for those keeping track: these are different from the two Belgian IPAs we tried at the IPA tasting)
  • Houblon Chouffe Dobbelen IPA Tripel from Brasserie d’Achouffe
  • Hopsinjoor from Gouden Carolus
• Belgian Stouts
  • Troubadour Oscura from Brouwerij De Musketiers
  • De Dolle Extra Export Stout from Brouwerij De Dolle Brouwers

Everyone will receive five tastes (one of each of the beers above) plus a glassful of their choice from the Trappist draft list, which has lots of Belgian beers rarely seen on draft around here, plus a few domestic craft brews. 

The tasting will run from 12:00pm – 2:00pm on Sunday, August 24th.  This is a new time for the tastings, which are usually run on Friday or Saturday later in the evening, but it is the time that will work best at the new venue (see below).  It is fine to come late or leave early, but you may miss some of the beers if you do.  It is also fine to stick around as long as you’d like afterwards, though any more beers you order are not part of the tasting.

The tasting will be at The Trappist, in Oakland.  This is a welcome change-up from the previous tastings at my apartment.  Their address is 460 8th Street, Oakland, CA.  Their phone number is (510) 238-8900.  They are between Broadway and Washington Streets, and a very short walk (just 4 short blocks down Broadway) from the 12th Street Oakland City Center BART Station.   

The tasting will cost $25.  The higher cost relative to the past events I’ve run reflects the fact that we’ll be drinking some pretty uncommon imported Belgian beers and that we are are moving on up into a nicer venue (no more sitting on the floor!). 

To secure a ticket, you must pay in advance by PayPal or check.  Once you have emailed me to let me know you’d like to attend, I will email you back ASAP to let you know whether there is still space for you.  If so, please pay for your ticket to confirm your spot.  If I do not receive payment, I will not hold your spot.  If you buy a ticket and then cancel later, I will refund you your money only if I find a replacement attendee to take your spot.  

The tasting is limited to 25 people.  I know I’ve said before that these tastings are capped and then I relented.  This time, it’s serious.  The Trappist cannot accommodate more than 25 of us at once for this tasting, so please RSVP fast if you are interested, since spots will run out quickly. 

You are welcome and encouraged to bring other people as long as you RSVP them.  One of the great things about these events is that often people bring friends, family, significant others, etc., so we all get to meet new people.   

Please RSVP by emailing thethirstyhopster@gmail.com.  Hope to see you there!

San Diego: The Lost Abbey found and other tales from the Southland

The Brew Crew (at Stone)

Our company retreat ran Wednesday through Friday this past week, in San Diego. This was incredibly fortunate for me, since it meant that I could visit SD with free airfare and free accommodations. As this was something I had wanted to do for a long time, I was psyched.

I stayed through the weekend on my own dime so that I could have more time in the city. It’s a good thing I did, because I never made it out to any of my intended beer venues on Wednesday or Thursday. You could say it was the sun, or the surf, or possibly the staying up until 5:00am partying with my co-workers because this was my last week at work before my final day this Thursday – but for whatever reason, I never made it off the hotel property those first two days.

Gardens at Stone

I’d like to think we did a good job of making up for it on Friday. We drove up to North County and went to Stone, Pizza Port Carlsbad, and Lost Abbey. The group consisted of me and four of my co-workers: Mitra, Bryan, David, and John.

We were all stunned by how gorgeous the “Stone World Bistro & Garden” was. I mean, the name sounds a little pompous, and I heard at least one other beerophile later that day describe it as the ‘Golden Palace’, but it lives up to every inch of its aspirations. It’s covered with beautiful stone, native plants, and flowing water all over the place. As we were leaving, someone in the group commented that it’s the kind of place where people have their weddings, like historic mansions or vineyards. That got me thinking, as far as venues go, this really wouldn’t be a bad choice… if I were getting married any time this decade.

Bathrooms at Stone

Both the beer and the food menus were extensive and expensive ($12 – $17 for a lunch item, e.g. salad or sandwich). But as they point out on the menu, they are using a lot of local and artisanal ingredient and such. That doesn’t make it any cheaper, but it does mean you’re getting something special for what you’re spending. Just know in advance that this is lunch at dinner prices. I got the spinach salad with dried cranberries, walnuts, crispy pancetta, and goat cheese, with port cranberry vinaigrette. Other items that looked really good were the BBQ duck tacos, and the BLT bruschetta sandwich.

Stone beer sampler

The service was fantastic! Our waitress was so friendly and cheerful and really seemed to look out for us. She suggested at one point that two of us share a large salad instead of each getting a smaller one, since we’d get more salad and pay less that way. You know someone’s on your side if they’ll give you tips like this.

There were 34 beers on the draft list when we arrived, 10 of which were made by Stone. The beers ran from $4.00 – $6.50, though since the pours were only 12 oz (except for strong ales which were 8 oz), these really reflect prices of about $5.33 to $8.66 per pint. Almost everything was available in a 4 oz taster pour (that’s a large taster!) which started as low as $1.00 a pour for the Stone beers. So… if you want to try a lot of beers (and who doesn’t?) and want to save some cash, I think the tasters are the way to go.

When we arrived, the menu was heavy on sour beers, which are 25% off every Sunday right now (I think this lasts through the summer). I’ll give the full beer list at the end of this post.

I noticed not one, but two, Berliner Weisse on their menu, so I decided to try those since I love sour beers and had never been able to sample one of these before. I got a taster size pour of the Craftsman Berliner Weisse and Bryan got a full glass of the Bruery Hottenroth Berliner Weisse.

Bryan's 'Still life with beer'

Mitra wanted something refreshing and not too hoppy, so I suggested a Saison, which probably reflects my own biases and preferences at the moment. She ordered the Deschutes Saison de la Bond.

John wanted to try the Stone brews, so he got a sampler set of the Stone Pale Ale, Smoked Porter, IPA, and Arrogant Bastard, which were a bargain at 4 oz. each and dollar a piece.

David wasn’t feeling well, which he swore all morning long was food poisoning, but which I really suspect was just a hangover, given that (A) we all drank a lot the night before, David included, and (B) we all ate the same burritos the night before and no one else got sick. In any case, he didn’t yet feel up to beer drinking.

When the beers arrived, I just sampled the first three, since I’ve had the Stone brews before, and know that I can find them up here at lots of places. And, to this moment, I’m still confused about what I drank.

My Craftsman Berliner Weisse was not sour at all. Isn’t this a hallmark of the style? I’ve gone back since to the BJCP guidelines to check myself, and there it is in black and white, “Aroma: A sharply sour, somewhat acidic character is dominant…. Flavor: Clean lactic sourness dominates and can be quite strong…. Comments: Mixed with Pils to counter the substantial sourness.” So, you can see why I was expecting something at least as sour as the Flanders beers and Gueuzes I’ve tried. Yet, what I encountered was a spicy soft wheat note that was the most prominent characteristic of the aroma and flavor. There was no banana-y character, but there were some herbal-type spices, which reminded me more of a Witbier than a Hefeweizen. It was a pale straw color, slightly hazy, with no head, which was likely just the result of the pour which was all the way up to the rim of the glass. I was a little disappointed, considering that I was in the mood for a sour beer, and a bit confused, and then I tried Mitra’s beer, which only added to my confusion…

The Deschutes Saison was extremely sour. It was a very cloudy orange color (so far saison like) and incredibly tart, on the order of biting into a lemon. It made me think of the New Belgium Foedre #3, though I liked the Deschutes better because (A) though it was more sour than most sour beers I’ve had, and close in range to the Foedre it was not quite as bitingly acidic as that one, and (B) the carbonation was not as fizzy. The Foedre had reminded me of Pop Rocks, and though I would call this carbonation fuzzy, with lots of tiny clinging bubbles, it was not like the tiny, sharp, stinging bubbles of the Foedre.

So, here was my first thought… these totally got mixed up, right? The only thing that gives me pause is the color of the beers. But surely this can’t be right? An un-tart Berliner Weisse? A saison that you could practically make pickles with? I asked the waitress if we had heard her wrong when she set them down, but she said “nope!” and then went back to check the taps, returning to confirm that these were in fact the right beers. Huh.

So, Mitra and I traded, so that we each ended up with something a little closer to what we originally thought we had ordered.

The Bruery Hottenroth Berliner Weisse was more similar to the Craftsman, another reason to believe the beers were not actually mixed up, but also not as sour as I expected. I think maybe my expectations just weren’t what they ought to have been. It was golden, a few shades darker than the Craftsman, and clear, while the Craftsman was slightly hazy. It was less highly aromatic than the Craftman, with a less defined wheat aroma. It did have more tartness though, which is to say, I couldn’t pick up tartness at all in the Craftsman, but got a bit here. It was quenching, but my least favorite of the three.

Guest Beers at Pizza Port Carlsbad

We finally pulled ourselves away from the gardens to head on our way. The logical next stop would have been The Lost Abbey, since it’s only a couple exits down the highway (at the old Stone brewery). However, they didn’t open until 4:00pm, and since it was only 3:20pm, we went all the way to Pizza Port Carlsbad. This is a much more casual place, with surfboards on the walls and hanging from the ceiling, picnic tables inside, and a counter for ordering (what else?) pizza. We were mostly full, so we didn’t get any pizza, but we did get a soft ‘portzel’ and some ‘beer buddies’. The portzel is a steal! It’s a full size soft pretzel baked with ‘wholegrain beer crust’, which I assume means that some of the spent malt goes into it. It also comes with a sauce of sun-dried tomatoes, feta, garlic, basil, and oregano. All this, and it costs… $1.00! The beer buddies were also amazing. They were the same beer crust, brushed with garlic butter and served with ranch or marinara.

House beers at Pizza Port Carlsbad

The group wanted to go in on a pitcher, so we went with the Black Lie IPA, which was good, but which I now regret because it is one of the very few Pizza Port beers I’ve tried before. If I were doing it again, I might have gotten the State Beach Blonde (I know, you’re shocked, I never order Blondes, but this one was brewed with sage – more on sage later), or the None-The-Weisser Weizenbock. In all, there were about 40 taps to choose from, of which about 14 were in-house brews.

Pitchers went for $14.75 for a regular beer and $19.75 for a special or strong beer. The Black Lie was 8.3%, so it was supposed to go for $19.75. However, no one charged me when I ordered, or asked for a credit card to start a tab. When we got up to go, we almost forgot we hadn’t paid. I went up to the counter and asked to pay, and the guy was so pleased that we were honest that he knocked $5 and gave it to us for the $14.75 price.

Pizza Port Carlsbad

I just had a few sips, since I was driving, and have no notes from the tasting, but I’m sure John and Bryan would remember the beer. It wasn’t until we were back in the car that we realized that the two of them basically drank the pitcher on their own. Dave still wasn’t feeling well and Mitra had only had about a half glass. At 8.3%, that’s a big pitcher to share.

We headed onward to our last stop, and at first I thought that maybe I should postpone it until the next day. I really didn’t want to do this since I was looking forward to The Lost Abbey more than any other brewery on the trip. But, with Mitra and Dave nodding off in the backseat of the car, it seemed like the group was losing steam. Luckily, we were able to revive them right as we arrived. Not fast enough though, since we couldn’t beat a group from San Diego Brewery Tours who parked at the same time to the door. This was a group of about 10 guys who seemed a little rowdy and a little drunk, though not too much of either. It didn’t seem to matter though, since they served us right away, even though the bar was full.

The Crew at Lost Abbey

I was surprised when I got there to see Tomme Arthur right there, just wandering in and out, saying hi. I guess it’s because this is a tasting bar attached to (more like, in) a brewery, rather than brewpub, but still, I was pretty excited. I didn’t go up to say hi right away. I had this irrational fear that it wasn’t him, but maybe a brother or someone who looked just like him, and that I’d offend him and embarrass myself. This always happens to me around people I look up to. I definitely had a bad case of this at the Five Guys dinner, and I was getting it again now.

In the meantime, I tasted the line-up and it was all so damn good!  My two favorites were the last two (no surprise there), and it made me so happy that every beer I drank was better than the one before it. These last two were Lost and Found, a Belgian Dubbel, and Judgment Day, a Belgian Strong Dark. Both are brewed with raisins, but the Dubbel is 8.0% and a clear slightly red toned medium brown hue, while the Strong Dark is 10.5% and a dark black-brown, too deep to see through. The L&F was caramel-y, with hints of banana. The JD was toasty, with obvious raisin-y flavor, and a port-like taste on the finish, like chocolate covered cherries. I loved it! It had the roastiness of a Porter or Stout, but balanced with the sweetness and fruitiness of a Dubbel. The alcohol comes through, but in a pleasant, comforting way. This is what a great Strong Dark is all about. I’d love to serve this with a dessert sometime, or with anything anytime.

I stopped by the Pizza Port Carlsbad Bottle Shop on my way back to LA to catch my flight to San Francisco, and had to get a bottle of the Judgment Day. Of course, while I was there, I also ended up getting a bottle of Lost and Found (so delicious as well), of Inferno (Lost Abbey Belgian Strong Golden Ale), and of AleSmith Wee Heavy. It’s a good thing I met Ryan (who works at the Bottle Shop) in the Pizza Port tasting bar, because I hadn’t even noticed the Bottle Shop when we first went to PP and I forgot to buy both the beer and the work shirt I wanted from Lost Abbey as we were leaving. At least in the end I was able to get the bottles.

The man, the myth, the legend (center)

As we wrapped up our tasting, I got up the nerve to talk to Tomme. As I think back on it now, I have no idea what he said or what I said, because I was so nervous it was all I could do to keep talking. My friends knew a funny scene when they saw one (I don’t think they’d call me the shy type – hell, I don’t think anyone has ever called me anything other loud mouthed) and snapped a photo, which only made me more shy.

Afterwards, it was time for our tour. We had been told to ask Sage (“the guy in the bananas shirt”) for a tour, and it was only after someone explained to me that he and the woman who had been serving our beer were Sage and Molly from My Beer Pix that this hit me. Of course! Check out their site if you get a chance – they have a unique beer blog in that it’s 90% photos. During the World Beer Cup, it was my lifeline into a conference that I would have loved to have been attending.

My friends had already fallen for Molly at the bar. I believe one of them said, “I love her! She’s great – Forget the beer, I’d come back just for her!” Sage was also hilarious as he showed us around, one great quote being, “If you like what we put up on My Beer Pix, you should see the stuff we can’t put on there – there’s at least as many of those photos.” John’s an engineer, so he had some great questions during the tour. I’m sure they’re mostly used to “What do you have in there right now?”-type questions, but with John it was, “So how many PSIs can that thing handle?” And, “The barrel room must get hot if the fermentation reaction is still going on and producing all that heat, right?” Ah, physics. The Barrel Room is quite a sight, though. They have all kinds of stuff in there and it looked like there were more barrels than at anyone else’s place that I’ve seen before, even though they have 3/4 of their barrels in a room we didn’t visit.

That was it for Friday! We had to head home before I got tempted to go back for more Judgment Day. That evening, it was out in the Gaslamp District by popular request of all of my co-workers who were still around. I’ve discovered that the Gaslamp is San Diego’s equivalent of the Marina in SF, but with even less class. It’s all the frat boys and party girls you can handle, but with bigger, faker boobs and blonder, bleachier hair. Never again.

On Saturday, I meant to go ‘round some of the bars during the day, but that plan was scuttled when I lay down for a nap at noon and woke up at 10pm! I guess that’s what happens after staying up until 4:00 or 5:00am the last three nights after flying in on a red-eye from Tokyo the night before all that. Ah, well, it cut my options short, but I think it was probably my body’s way of protesting what I was putting it through.

Since I was staying out in the boonies (Thanks a lot Starwood for warning me…), I had two choices: Jump in my car to drive to Toronado SD and Hamilton’s, or take a long walk (1.3 miles alone at 10pm) or short cab ride over to O’Brien’s. My interest in avoiding drunk driving (and, really actually, in drinking) won out and I hopped in cab to O’Brien’s.

The place was surprisingly empty for a Saturday night, but the bar was almost full, so I took the one seat remaining. I love coming to beer bars alone, since I often have a better chance to talk to the regulars and the bartenders, and get a better feel of the bar. Tonight was no exception, and in fact, conversation started up quicker than usual even, almost as soon as I sat down. The two men to my right, Dale & Chris, explained that this is their regular spot, and that it’s empty late on weekend nights because it’s more of an after-work bar. Fair enough.

I ordered a Craftsman Triple White Sage. This beer is genius. I’m not going to give it as ringing an endorsement as the Judgment Day or Lost and Found, but I think they hit on a really great concept. The sage pairs perfectly with the Tripel. As the bartender, Micaela, left it in front of me, I could smell the sage as soon as I grabbed it. It was a very pure, fresh sage smell, like picking up a branch of the bush, not some withered and dried old leaves from a spice cabinet. I loved the aroma, but I wondered if the beer was going to be too medicinal, if it tasted anything like the aroma. Nope! The sage was definitely tempered in the taste, not half as potent as in the smell. Instead, the apples and honey Tripel flavor rose up and met the sage. What I like about this is that it is both very much an herbal beer and very much a Tripel at the same time. The flavors are bold and pure, but neither overpowering. The sage is dry and the fruity, punchy alcohol of the Tripel is sweet, but neither one is too much when paired with the other. I would drink this again any time and had no idea until now that it was 9% ABV.

Before I was even half done though, I had another glass in front of me. Dale had ordered a bottle of the De Proef Signature and four glasses. I’ve had this twice before, once at Bar Crudo and once at home, but I never liked it as much as I liked it this time. I thought the Brett character had a crisper, lighter flavor, almost lemon-y, that I had never tasted in a wild ale before. The barnyard funk was still there, but something about it tasted like it had been corralled. I’m starting to notice a trend now though, both in the notes I’m looking at and in my ABV comments. My handwriting had started to get wonky and this beer was 8.5%. Good thing I wasn’t driving.

We shared another bottle around, after I mentioned that I was all into Saisons right now. Dale wanted to know if I liked Fantome. Like it? I love it, obviously. There was no La Dalmatienne on the bottle menu, but there was Fantome Brise BonBons. All I have written down about this one, in a barely legible scrawl is: “Lemon-orange aroma. Tart.” There you have it. As I was looking at these notes this afternoon, I was feeling guilty at the lack of detail, but as I once again note that this was an 8.0% ABV, I’m feeling pretty good that I had 3 glasses at 8-9% and was still conversational. Yeah, yeah, you all think this is no big deal. But I know I’m a total lightweight, and this was in an hour and a half, with no food since 10:00am. I’m so grateful there was no repeat, or even near-repeat, of the birthday three-beer-blackout (of course, that was a 9.5%, a 7.5%, and a 9.5% on no dinner – for which I blame Google for clearing out the taquito cart before I got there). That was a surprise I hope remains a one-time phenomenon.

My one other alcohol-related thought for the night is that somewhere during this second half of the evening, we got to talking about mead. A man down the table was drinking a bottle of mead called Viking Blood. Or at least, that’s what I saw on the bottle and thought it was called, though it seems now that this is a generic name for a half mead / half cherry juice drink, not a specific brew. I will have to email the bar to see (A) if he got it there and (B) if so, what the hell it was. I got to taste a sip and it was delicious. Absolutely delicious. I also got to thinking, since honey-cherry-wine sounds like such a wimpy drink, maybe this is another back-door for bringing people on the craft beer boat. Often mead is just the weird stepchild of craft beer, a niche-ier segment of an already niche market. But, offer tastes of mead and craft beer to your average wine cooler drinker and mead’s probably going to win out every time. Maybe we could spoil people on good mead until those wine coolers are abandoned, and then work them on over to beer? I’m going to think about this a while.

Over the course of the night, I got to hear all kinds of stories about what O’Briens is like that I would probably never have heard if I had come with a friend. All the regulars have nicknames. Chris plays in a darts league. There’s one guy who comes in every day and drinks Budweiser on the rocks in his own mug that he leaves below the counter. When the World Beer Cup was in town and O’Brien’s was packed, all the regulars got to go to the end of the bar, where there was a bartender dedicated to them, so they wouldn’t be forgotten in the crowd. I love this stuff and I loved meeting Dale, Chris, and Micaela (who will also be at GABF incidentally).

They closed at midnight, which felt early but which was probably just about right. I headed home to the lovely Four Points Sheraton for bed, even though I had only been up two hours. As usual, I had no problem falling back asleep. I think I could sleep just about anywhere now that in the last week I’ve fallen asleep: standing up in a kabuki theater, on a red-eye home from Japan with a 7-foot man in the aisle seat to my right and a kicking and crying child behind me, and for 21-straight hours from noon on Saturday to 9:00am on Sunday, minus those two hours of beer.

So that’s it… for Part I at least! I’m home now, for four days, before I hit the road again. Up next is: Helsinki, Florence, London, and finding a new job. And given that I barely even scratched the surface of San Diego, I’ll have to head back down there soon as well. So many brews… so little time.

Japan Wrap Up: Tokyo!

And so it’s over.  After four full days in Tokyo (and Hakone) and a half day on either end, the Japan portion of this vacation has come to a close.  My internet connection at the moment is too slow to embed the photos, but they can all be viewed here.

We had one more great beer experience, at Beer Club Popeye, which I will describe below.  However, it’s the overall feel of the trip, not the beer, that I think will stick with me.  I remember someone (maybe my dad?  I’m not sure I remember…) telling me a joke several years ago that in heaven the restaurants are Italian, the trains German, and the hospitality British; in hell, the restaurants are British, the trains Italian, and the hospitality German.  I was thinking about this anecdote in relation to Japan, because as Ben pointed out to me, heaven is actually where all of the above are Japanese. 

• The restaurants?  They serve the freshest sushi I’ve ever eaten and probably will ever eat since.  Even the simple businessmen’s oyaku-don lunches (teriyaki pork and scrambled egg over scallion rice) are more delicious than anything we have in the San Francisco. 
• The trains?  We never got over them.  A subway train arrives every two to three minutes on ever line at every station.  It’s never later and we were never left panting after just missing a train faces with the prospect of waiting 20 minutes for the next one.  They have fantastic air conditioning and though they have a reputation for being crowded, we often traveled during rush hour and not once was the train as crowded as the SF Muni N-Line is every single morning. 
• And the hospitality?  It’s indescribable, but I’ll do my best.  Last night we found a restaurant that looked like just what we wanted for our last night: something upscale and memorable, but not break-the-bank expensive.  The only problem was, the whole menu was in Japanese and my much outdated, severely limited knowledge wasn’t getting us past the drink menu.  They seated us happily and sent over their server with the best English who grinned really big and said nervously, “I speak only a little English, but I will tray very hard!”  He was prepared to read the whole menu to us, but didn’t even have to because while we were ordering drinks, the host had found an online menu aggregator website that listed their menu in English and Japanese, and printed it out for us.  Even as we had to keep adding to our order throughout the dinner (we’re still not sure if it was a small plates place or if we’ve just got stereotypical American appetites), they never grimaced or flinched, and even warned us when we might have been taking a misstep (“that is …hmm… how do you say… organ meats?  Do you want the one with normal pork?” Yes, we most definitely did). 

Sunday started out in Shibuya, where we were staying at the towering Excel Hotel Tokyu, the first of many skyscrapers with breathtaking views that we would ascend in the next few days.  We then walked around the Imperial Palace Park, where we met with yet another perfect example of Japanese hospitality.  As we were taking photos of a beautiful bridge, a palace guard from the guard station 20 feet away walked over to us.  In Britain, you can’t even get those guys in the fuzzy hats to acknowledge your presence, and n the US, if Secret Service approaches you, you know it’s not about anything good.  So, when this man walked over, we assumed we were going to get reprimanded for overstepping some “don not cross” line we had not noticed.  Instead, he offered, mostly in pantomime, to take a picture for us so that all three of us could be in it.  For the life of me, I just can’t imagine American security guards voluntarily going out of their way to make such an offer to a small group of non-English speaking tourists. 

This day was perhaps the height of the heat and humidity, and also the turning point for my feet, with which I’ve been doing battle.  I had chosen a pair of slip on sandals that I thought would offer the best compromise between comfort over several miles a day, ventilation, ease of removal at shrines, and dorky touristy-ness.  Yet, they still gave me blisters on parts of my foot that I wasn’t even aware were touching the shoes before they became incredibly painful.  Now though, after walking through the pain, I think my feet are impervious to further abuse.  I could probably walk on halt coals at this point and not notice.

That evening we went out to Akihabara, which is “the electronics district.”  As we discovered a few days later, ever potential commercial good has its own district in Tokyo.  Yesterday, we even saw the “plastic food samples” district.  There’s a whole stretch of blocks in Asakusa that just sell the miniature plastic udon bowls, sushi rolls, and ice cream sundaes that line the windows of ever Japanese restaurant (and which on a few occasions we’ve had to point to in order to place our orders). 

In any case, Akihabara isn’t just the electronic gadgets district, it is more of a generalized nerdy teenage male paradise, complete with video game arcades, comic book stores, plastic model character stores, and porn shops.  We stumbled into more than one of the latter while looking for English language comic books for Ben.  They looked so unassuming at first, often with cartoon-y characters on the banners out front.  And given how well endowed all the female characters are even in non-sexual Japanese comics (if there is such a thing, I think it’s more of a spectrum, the entirely non-sexual end of which is never quite reached), sometimes it wasn’t until we turned the corner and simultaneously exclaimed, “Oh god, I think that is some kind of massive sex machine!  What on earth does it do?!?” that we realized we were in the wrong place.  We never did find English language comics that night, but we did find a video arcade with Street Fighter 4 and Tekken 6, which means nothing to me, but which Ben was very excited about until he got his ass kicked by an approximately 15 year old arcade regular. 

The next morning, we got up early to head out to Hakone on a day trip, but first we sat down for the traditional Japanese breakfast that came with the room in the ryokan where we stayed for our last three nights.  Ryokan are traditional Japanese hotels with tatami mat floors, futon mattresses for beds that are rolled away during the day, and an included breakfast (like an American B&B).  This one included miso, green salad, pickled vegetables, eggy-rice, and an entire BBQ’d fish: head, bones, and all.  As Ben remarked, “These are all good foods, but I wouldn’t call any of them breakfast.”  We each tried several bites of every item, and finished most of them, but only Ben was able to finish his plate.  There’s only so much of being stared down by unmoving eye of the fish on my breakfast plate that I can take in the morning.

Hakone is known, as far as I can tell, for 4 things:

1. Views of Mt. Fuji
2. Onsen (mineral hot springs)
3. Sulfur-blackened boiled eggs
4. And our favorite… Norimono (modes of transit)

We loved that they have a word specifically for the phrase “modes of transit” and that they are considered one of the primary attractions of Hakone.  It gives new meaning to the phrase “It’s about the journey, not the destination” (which is a Buddhist saying after all…isn’t it?).  Our proudest accomplishment at the end of the day was that we had taken all of the recommended modes of transit and then some, 10 different modes in all:

1. Subway from our ryokan to Tokyo station
2. Shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo to Odawara (though we missed taking the “romance car” from Shinjuku, another Tokyo-area station, to Odawara)
3. Regional train from Odawara to Hakone-Yumoto.
4. Funicular (cog-railway) from Hakone-Yumoto uphill to Gora
5. Gondola from Gora to Sounzan on lake Ashinko
6. Pirate ship from Sounzan to Hakone-machi
7. Walking from Hakone-Machi to Moto-Hakone
8. Shuttle bus from Moto-Hakone to an onsen (mineral hot springs)
9. Taxi from the onsen back to Hakone-Yumoto

Along the way, we made two major stops: at Owakudani (midway on the gondola) and at the onsen mentioned above.  Owakudani is the site of several sulfur mines, and a tradition has developed in which people boil eggs in the sulfurous water, which turns the eggs black.  Ben and I gave the eggs a try, and found that even though they look horrifying from the outside, they taste just like a regular hard boiled egg on the inside.  They were still boiling hot when we bought them, and we nearly burned our fingerprints off while trying to eat them.  At least now if we ever on the run from the law we’ll be less easily traceable. 

The second stop was the highlight of the day.  We spent an hour and a half relaxing in the onsen (mineral hot springs).  Unlike Calistoga, where Allie, Melissa, and I stopped on 4^th of July weekend, hoping to go in the hot springs only to find they cost $25 per person, the hot springs here were just $11.  Men and women have separate areas, each of which has about five outdoor mineral springs of varying temperatures, one of which was constructed under a man made cave.  The hot pool was so hot that I had to sit on the bench about half the time because my heart started beating so fast I thought I might have a heart attack. 

That evening, we did what I had been waiting to do since we first agreed to go to Japan: we went out to Beer Club Popeye.  We met up with Dan Morales (one of the two friends responsible for introducing me to craft beer), Dan’s girlfriend and father, and Brian Harrell (the Tokyo correspondent for The Celebrator).  Luckily, we ran into Brian in the subway station, because we had forgotten to bring directions to the bar.  We were surprised to see him show up, because it was both his birthday and anniversary.  Now that’s dedication, and an indication of just exciting a trip to BCP is. 

I had a pint and two half pints, plus tastes of several other people’s beers.  I have few notes because I was so excited to catch up with Dan again after 3 years that I spent little time writing.  I tried the Iwatekura IPA on hand pump, the Divine Vamp India Black Ale, and the Hakusekikan Scottish Smoke Ale.  The Divine Vamp IBA was definitely the best of the bunch.  The hops were floral and much more aromatic than in the Iwatekura. It’s brewed by Baird and can only be found at BCP. 

My overall impression of the whole selection of beers I tasted was very similar to Baird: extra sweet, low hops, low alcohol.  I’m not sure I can really get behind this flavor profile.  Though I’ve talked a lot of talk lately about sweet, low-hop, American beers (Bocks, Scotches), the Japanese versions tasted less balanced and of character for their given styles.  I think they might also have benefited from a higher ABV to give them some punch. 

What I especially liked is the diversity of selections they offer.  They have draft beers, hand pump beers, gravity tap beers, and nitro tap beers.  They even have a fresh infusion system (like the Dogfish Head Randall) to add fresh hop oils to beers run through the system.  The full BCP menu from the day I attended is listed here at the end of the post

At one point, I tried to clear my sinuses so I could smell the beers better.  There was no wasabi, so I reached for the Tobasco sauce.  This was a bad choice.  Not only did it do nothing for my sinuses, it killed my palate for several minutes, when all I could taste was burning.  Note to others: Tobasco sauce is not a palate cleanser. 

On our last day in Japan, we got up at 5:30am to head to the Tsukiji Fish Market.  The live fish auctions happen at 5:30am, and though we didn’t get there until about 6:30am, things were very lively.  Men rode around on flatbed trucks carrying fish as big as a loveseat and then sliced them up with handsaws.  After ogling all the seafood for an hour, we sat down for a sushi breakfast of fish straight out of the sea.  Unfortunately, such fish doesn’t come easy or cheap.  We waited in line for 30 minutes for a 5-bite meal (toro tuna, hamachi tuna, abalone, mackerel, and eel) chowed down in 20 minutes that cost $33.  Steep!  It was the most delicious fish I’ve ever had, and probably worth it since I’ll never be able to taste fish that fresh again. 

We went home and rested for a while and then headed out for Kabuki theater.  Considering that true kabuki is about 5 hours long, and all in Japanese, and we had gotten up at an ungodly hour, there was no way we were going to be able stay awake through the whole thing.  As it was, though got tickets to see just the first act, and they were standing room only tickets, I still managed to fall asleep while standing up – I didn’t know that was possible!  As far as I can tell, the plot went something like this:

• Feudal Japanese Lord signs to his samurai warriors about how great he is
• Funny looking guy in what looks like a clown fro and a skirt comes on and complains about how he needs the lord to mediate a dispute he’s having with his wife, who wails theatrically
• A hand drum, that for some unknown reason appears important to the plot, appears
• The wife and the drum are tied to the tree and left to die
• A cowardly traveling militia find her but thinks she is a ghost spirit and almost run away
• Another wacky guy comes out of nowhere, fights and defeats the militia, and frees the woman
• Wacky guy proposes to the woman he just saved, but she rejects him
• Clown-husband and lord come back and take the drum back

Hmmm… no idea what it all means, but that could just be because I was snoozing part or the time. 

Later that day, we headed to Asakusa to see a shrine and pagoda, and a covered walkway on the site of the old merchants quarters.  From the present-day merchants we bought the most delicious items of the trips: two Japanese equivalent of the jelly donut.   One of the treats was essentially a two-bite-sized Belgian waffle with sweetened red bean paste in the center.  These were made on the spot by a machine that pressed the waffles into cute shapes and then offered them up still-hot to customers.  We all went back for seconds and thirds.  The second item was similar, a fried pocket of silver-dollar-sized Japanese pancake with the sweetened red bean paste in the middle.  If I thought they would have been as good when not hot and fresh, I would have stocked up for the years to come.   

That evening, we went big to celebrate our last night.  We went to the great dinner mentioned at the beginning of the post and then headed to the New York Bar, which is on the 52^nd floor of the Park Hyatt hotel and featured in the movie Lost in Translation.  This is a swanky jazz bar with views over the tops of the whole city.  Though there are plenty of views of the city, but this is one of the highest and it at night it was truly magical.    

I’m so glad we went out on such a high note.  As for now, I’m back in the States, in San Diego, getting ready to make the rounds of the city’s renowned breweries and bars tomorrow and Saturday.  Look for more posts over the next few days!

Beer Club Popeye Menu

Non-Alcohol

• Preston Ale

Lagers

• Terminal Gravity ESG
• Fujizakura Kougen Lager
• Full Sail Brewing LTD

Hybrid Beer

• Swan Lake Golden Ale
• Nide Cream Lager
• Ohnuma Beer Kolsch

Wheat Beers

• Echigo Beer
• Fujizakura Kougen Whitbier
• Gingakougen
• Ozenoyukidoke Brown Weizen
• Hidatakayama Beer
• Hakusekikan Witbier
• Watou’s Whit Ale

Pale Ale

• Baird Beer Rising Sun
• Isekadoya Beer Pale Ale
• Isekadoya Beer 3 Hops Pale Ale
• Preston Pale Ale
• Shigakougen Beer Pale Ale

IPAs

• Preston Ale BaBakan Beer (aka Cat Fish Head, a take on the Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA)
• Echigo Beer IPA
• Ozenoyukidoke IPA
• Baird Beer IPA
• Daisen Beer IPA
• Minoh Double IPA
• Speakeasy Double Daddy Double IPA
• Divine Vamp Black IPA

Stouts and Porters

• Swan Lake Porter
• Ozenoyukidoke Stout
• Asahi Stout
• Iwatekura Oyster Stout
• Rogue Ale Shakespeare Stout

Barleywine and Strong Ale

• Gouden Carolus Tripel
• Lagunitas Hairy Eyeball
• Stone Russian Imperial Stout
• Hakusekikan Crystal Ale (2001)
• Hakusekikan Hurricane (2003)
• Hakusekikan Dia Brown
• Minamisinsyu Beer Winter Ale
• Rogue Imperial Stout
• Hakusekikan Barleywine (2004)
• Hidatakayama Beer Barleywine
• Swan Lake Barleywine
• Ozenoyukidoke Barleywine
• Yo-Ho Brewing Barleywine
• Nasukougen Barleywine
• Rogue Barleywine

Other Ale

• Yo-Ho Brewing ESB
• Swan Lake Amber Ale
• Hakusekikan Scottish Smoke Ale
• Green Flash Hop Head Red

Nitrogen Tap

• Yo-Ho Brewing Porter
• Echigo Beer Stout
• Baird Shimaguni Stout
• Sumida Brewing Porter

Hand Pump Cask Ale

• Yona-Yona Pale Ale
• IPA Iwatekura IPA

Gravity Tap Cask Ale

• Isekadoya Pale Ale

Fresh Hop Infusion Ale

• Ozenyukidoke IPA Centennial-infused
• Ozenyukidoke IPA

Tokyo: All hail Bairds ales (and lagers!)

[I've now added photos to the Kyoto posts and will add photos to this one tomorrow!]

When I last left the blog, I had nothing new to say about beer, and lots to say about monkeys.  This time, I promise there’s plenty o’ beer and (somewhat sadly) no monkeys.  If only I could have great beer and see great monkeys in the same day!  Note to beer garden proprietors…

We arrived in Tokyo in the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Kyoto on Friday evening.  We were staying in Roppongi, which as far as I can tell is expat and tourist central.  It was the only time we had any trouble finding our way (besides when we were momentarily confused on our way to Yoramu’s bar), but we found our way within about 15 minutes.

The hotel room was amazingly compact, yet comfortable, a completely practical application of all that Japanese engineering prowess.  And though their bathrooms do have drawbacks (I am incapable of taking a shower here without getting water over every wall, ceiling, and floor), I’m still in thrall of their high tech toilets, their array of free toiletry-type amenities at every hotel, and the awesome water pressure in the showers.

The Roppongi Hills complex is truly astounding.  It melds offices, restaurants, bars, hotels, store, and condos into a few giant towers.  Watching the people stream in and out, I’m convinced that the entirety of a medium sized US city (Cincinnati maybe?) could fit into one of them. 

We ate conveyor belt sushi and gasped when we saw the checkout mechanism.  The plates were each color-coded by price and at the end of the meal they came over with a bar code scanner-type device that scanned the colors of the plates and automatically calculated the cost of the entire meal.  They then popped out the memory card with the bill on it and handed it to us.  The only thing was, for all their high tech gadgetry, they forgot to charge both of the boys for their beers because they had cleared the glasses before they came to scan our plates.  I guess paying for my beer was the price I paid for drinking too slowly. 

The next day we packed up and went to drop our bags off at our next hotel in Shibuya.  This was a splurge night, not intentionally, but because we had forgotten to book a room until last minute.  We were staying in the Excel Hotel Tokyu in Shibuya, and we got a room on the 24^th floor with a panorama view of the city.  The air-con in the room was a life changing experience, considering that I just did some poking around online for Heat Index measures based on temperature and humidity.  Apparently, when it is 90 – 95° F and 70% – 94% humidity outside, it feels like it is 106 to 137° F.  137° F!  This might explain why we’ve noticed recently at the end of the day that our shirts are caked in all the salt we’ve sweated out.  We’re walking salt licks.  Good thing we’re not running into any more deer on this trip. 

It’s also a good thing that having soft drink vending machines everywhere is something the Japanese are very good at.  We saw 9 in a row lined up on a street tonight.  We’ve been avid patrons of the vendos.  Other things the Japanese are very good at include having public restrooms everywhere and being intensely friendly.  When we’re trying to ask a question at a store and the clerk can’t speak much English, other customers with better English skills will notice and cross the entire room to come offer translation.  We’re starting to wonder whether they are under national order to be as incredibly welcoming to foreigners as possible.  The only problem is this: having international ATMs available is not something the Japanese are good at.  All we want to do is give them yen and they’re just not making it easy for us. 

We took the train to Harajuku and wandered around Meiji-Jingu for a while.  A couple in traditional wedding costume was having their wedding photos taken there, and as a crowd of tourists including myself formed a circle around them and snapped photos, I couldn’t help but feel that I was in some alternate universe where all the roles are reversed.  It wasn’t too long ago that Japanese tourists would snap photos of me in me and my friends at college in our pajamas on the way to breakfast. 

We also headed over to Yebisu Garden Place, which is on the site of the old Ebisu brewery, now owned by Sapporo.  I’ve never thought a cold frosty mug of beer has been so welcome before, but then, I’m not sure I’ve ever spent 4 to 8 hours a day walking halfway across a city where the water immediately hisses into steam as the street cleaners spray down the pavement.  The Ebisu Beer Museum was disappointing.  It was just as hokey as Guinness or Heineken, but less informative.  After I made this comment out loud, Ben pointed out that it was probably less informative because everything was in Japanese and I don’t know any kanji.  True.  But, I was proud when I could sound out the kana for ‘hops’.  So, I mostly just walked around saying to Nick and Ben every 10 seconds, “Look! Hopusu!”

That evening we went to the Baird Taproom in Naka-Meguro.  The original brewery and taproom are in Numazu, so I was worried that this relatively new outpost of Baird Brewing wouldn’t measure up, but I was all wrong.  Amazing facts about the taproom:

• They had 17 Baird beers available!  I don’t know any other brewpub that makes that many different styles at one time. 
• They had 3 Baird beers, all traditional British styles, on hand pump.
• They were in the middle of their summer fruit beer festival, which included beers brewed with varieties of citrus that I didn’t even know existed before last night.

The food menu was pretty limited, mostly just appetizer type items.  I ordered the fish and chips, which seemed like the one actual entrée, and it was the best fried fish I’ve ever eaten. 

Between the three of us we were able to try almost all of them.  The only downsides were that they don’t offer a tasting platter and the beer is all pretty expensive (4 oz. tastes = ¥350 yen, half pint = ¥700, pint = ¥900, and a yen is about equal to one cent).  While Tokyo is expensive in general, it seems like a half pint of macrolager around here is generally ¥350 – ¥400, and a pint is about ¥550 – ¥650.  The spread between the macro and the craft seems larger here than in the US, where I can get a pint of just about anything domestic craft beer Toronado has for $4.00 – $5.50, and $3 if it’s a special night. 

Before jumping in to everything we tried, it’s worth mentioning a couple trends that seemed to apply to all of their beers.  Almost everything was low alcohol, with most in the 4% – 5% range.  When Nick tried to order one of the two beers that was over 6%, the waitress asked him if he was sure he really wanted an 8% beer.  I guess this is what their market wants.  In fact, as I looked around the taproom, a lot of the Japanese customers were drinking soft drinks, and it was mostly the expats (there were several tables of Germans and Brits) drinking the beer.

The beers were also generally relatively low hops.  I’m not sure if this has more to do with the Japanese palate or the hops shortage.  The beers almost universally tended to fall on the sweet side of whatever their style called for.  Most were still great beers, I don’t want to imply that they were too sweet, but for any given style they tended to be just a touch more sugary than I expected before taking a sip.

So here they are…

Summer Fruit Beer Festival

• Saison Sayuri: I started with this one since I love saisons.  This one is brewed with lots of wheat, sudaiko sugar, kinkan (kumquats), natsumikan (bitter tangerines), and fermented with a version of the Saison Dupont yeast.  It is 5.3% ABV.  The entirety of my first impression, was “whoa, that’s a lot of tangerine.”  It had a very distinct taste, and it was great to try something different from the grapefruity flavors of all the west coast hop beers, and the orange flavors of American or Belgian witbiers.  It was easy to tell that this one used something quite different.  That said, it also took me a while to taste what else this beer had going for it.  On my first few sips, I couldn’t cut through the citrus to the malt or spices.  After I came back to it from tasting other beers though, it tasted like a real saison.  It had a mild peppery aroma, some coriander and faint Noble hops in the taste, and a sweet wheat maltiness.  Still, the kumquat and tangerine are what define this beer.
• Summer Mikan Ale: They didn’t specify what type of ale this was, but it was basically a blonde ale plus fruits.  It was brewed with mikan, which are also called ‘honey citrus’ and are a specific type of mandarin oranges.  It is 5.5% ABV.  Baird described it as “aromatic, effervescent, dryly acidic, and refreshing.”  It was all of these things and when I first tasted it, right after the saison, I preferred it because it tasted more like beer to me than sparkling fruit juice.  It was amazing to see how different the mandarin oranges tasted from the kumquat and tangerines.  It really makes me start to wonder how useful “citrus” is as a descriptor.  Neither of these could be mistaken for each other, much less lime or grapefruit or bergamot.  It had effervescent, but not overdone, carbonation and a light grainy flavor.  It was a fantastic summer beer.
• Snow Storm Dark Strong ale: This one was brewed with strawberries and Belgian yeast, and was 8.0% ABV.  I have never tasted anything so strawberry-ish in my life before, except actual whole strawberries.  Before I go one to what all else I have to say about this beer, I have to state first that I think Baird deserves major credit for getting this flavor so strong and so pure, it is a major feat.  That said, it wasn’t my cup of tea, or beer rather.  The strawberries overpowered everything else, and the strong dark Belgian flavor was only noticeable for a half second upon the first sip and then slipped away. 

Handpump

• Fuggle Summer Ale: An English single-hop bitter, with 4.7% ABV.  This one wasn’t quite as malty as I expected.  The earthy Fuggle character was mild and apparent in the aroma and flavor.  I wanted a little bit more from it though, as there was little hop bitterness (IBU = 28), little mat flavor, and not much yeast complexity.
• 60- Scottish Ale: This was one of my favorites of the night.  I had never had a 60 Shilling Scottish Ale before, as most brewers who decide to do a Scottish will go the whole hog and brew a Wee Heavy.  Now, I don’t want to discourage this, since I love Wee Heavies, but this was the opposite end of the spectrum as far as Scottish ales are concerned, as light as they get, and it was delicious.  That said, I think this might have actually been more of a 70 Shilling, since the main distinction is the ABV, and a 60 Shilling is 2.5 – 3.2% ABV and this one was 3.8%, which falls right in the 3.2 – 3.9% range for a 70 Shilling Scottish Ale.  It did not have the peaty flavor I often look forward to in a Wee Heavy, but it did have some residual sweetness and a fantastic dark caramelization.  What I liked most was the contrast between the deep intense flavor and the light body. 
• Nakameguro Bitter: Not available, sold out.

Seasonal

• Rainy Season Black Ale: This was the best aroma of the night.  They described it as an “espresso like ale” and Nick said it tasted overwhelmingly like coffee to him both when he first tried it and when I asked him to try it again.  But it didn’t taste roasty to me at all.  I thought it tasted much more like a Belgian-style strong dark ale, with dark fruits like black cherry and raisin.  This was the one other “high” ABV beer, at 6.3%. 
• Kiss of Smoke Amber Lager: Along with the Scottish and the Black Ale, this one rounded out my top three.  It was a maerzen rauchbier.  The prominent caramel malt is what really made this beer special.  In several other rauchbiers I’ve had, the smoke and hops are all I can taste, and it’s like someone poured macrolager through a chimney before serving it (cough, cough, Gordon Biersch).  This one retained everything I love about maerzens (the assertive hop bitterness, the strong & complex malt backbone) and added just a slight smokey twist.  In fact, ‘balance’ is what Baird said they were going for in all of their beers on their menu and I think this one best exemplifies it.  I know breweries often say they look for balance in their beers, but this one made a big deal about it as part of the Japanese brewing tradition, and part of the legacy of Zen Buddhism, and they completely lived up to it.

Year-Round

• Nide Ale and Nide Lager: This was a pair of beers split from the same mash and then fermented with different yeasts.  The mash was from a cream ale recipe and produced a refreshing light gold colored beer.  I expected to prefer the ale by a wide margin, given that I almost always drink ales, and generally only get excited about lagers if they have something extra going on, like the Kiss of Smoke above.  But, I was shocked to realize that I definitely preferred the lager of these two.  It wasn’t boring at all.  Both the ale and the lager had a light fruity flavor, but the lager was much crisper and cleaner.  It was like looking at two pictures in which each has the same foreground, but one busy, disordered background and the other has a single calming pattern or color in the background.  And it wasn’t as the background tastes in the lager were lacking either, there were some sharp hop flavors and bitterness, but it was as though the whole beer were better integrated such that the background flavors made the foreground pop, instead of melding together into one big mess.  I’m so glad I tried these side-by-side, and it makes me want to start drinking more lagers.
• Red Rose Amber: This seems like one of their most popular year round beers, and for good reason.  It tastes dry like red ale at first, very crisp, hoppy, and quenching.  Then it swells with fruit and malt flavors into more of an amber ale.  I’m not sure if other people make the same distinction between these that I do, but I always think of a red as being dryer and an amber as being sweeter.  The fruitiness made me think of hibiscus. 
• Rising Sun Pale Ale: This was a great American-style pale ale that I think would rival Mirror Pond.  It had subtly citric hops, that didn’t overwhelm the beer as in some of the actual fruit beers.
• Wheat King Ale: Didn’t get to it.
•  Teikokan IPA: Didn’t get to it.
• Angry Boy Brown: Didn’t get to it.
• Kurofune Porter: Didn’t get to it.
• Shimaguri Stout: Didn’t get to it.

That’s it for now.  I’ll cover what we did today next time!  But now we’re going to sleep since we’re getting up early tomorrow to head to Hakone.  We’re also going to Beer Club Popeye tomorrow evening, which I expect may be the beer highlight of the trip!

Kyoto continued: Gion Matsuri, Nara, and Arashiyama

Warning to beer folk: there’s almost no mention of beer, or even sake, in this post.  Much as I want to sample tons of beer while here, that may have to wait until I (A) have seen the basic sights so that don’t miss out on seeing Japan for all the beer, (B) can say more about beer in Japanese than just “One more, please!”, and (C) have a place to stay such that visiting another town doesn’t involve schlepping my 30lb duffel bag + backpack.  The Japanese subways at morning rush hour are hard enough to navigate while unladen, but when loaded up I can’t even ride the escalator because I’m too slow to merge into the stream of humanity pouring into them.  I’ve just been taking the stairs. 

So here’s my thought on beer for you: If I’m drinking one of the Japanese macrolagers (and we do this often, as water comes in tiny glasses here and it’s the only certain way to cool off), Kirin and Suntory Premium Malt seem tastier than Asahi, and I haven’t yet had a Sapporo.  I’m pleasantly surprised to find that while Asahi reminds me a lot of American macros, the Kirin and Suntory Premium seem a little less watery, a little fuller in malt flavor, and lacking something about American macros that gives them an unpleasant aftertaste (I think it’s the corn). 

But that’s it folks!  I’m writing from Tokyo now, we arrived last night.  So, hopefully I can cover the highlights of the rest of Kyoto in this post, and by the end of today will have new and exciting beer stories from Tokyo. 

On our second day in Kyoto, we took the train out to Nara, Japan’s first capital city (710 – 785).  The main attraction here is Todai-Ji, the largest wooden building in the world, and home to the Daibutsu (‘Big Buddha’), made of 437 tons of gold and 286 lbs of gold.  The hall itself was aw-inspiring, but I wonder if the architects gave any thought to Nara’s summer weather.  To reach the hall, you have to walk down a long approach path, almost like a runway, with no shade.  In the 100+° F degree heat, it started to feel like the path was a race against the sun, and slowpokes would be burnt to a crisp before reaching the Buddha.  It reminded me of the old Nintendo games in which Mario would have to cross some stretch at a sprint or else the little pegs he stood on would fall out beneath him, except in this case the threat came from above instead of below. 

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And, though I know this pegs me as the prototypical tourist, and will make Buddhists roll over in their grave, I think that when it comes to the best sight of the day, the imperial deer that roam all over the temple grounds give the big guy a run for his money.  They were everywhere and they were didn’t bite or get pushy or defensive (a contrast to out animal experience on Day 4…). 

We saw the second tallest pagoda in Japan.  We saw some ‘fine’ wooden statues that we thought

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had been described as the ‘oldest’ or ‘biggest’ of something, but which were in fact just ‘some of the finest.’  And we saw some signage regarding the reactions of the deer in the park when harassed by humans (apparently they emanate lightning bolts).

That night was also the peak of Gion Matsuri, one of the largest festivals in Japan (though for the life of us, we can’t figure out exactly what the festival celebrates).  Everyone in the city that night was out wandering the streets, many of them dressed up in kimonos and wooden sandals.  It was clear from the number of people, the likes of which I haven’t seen anywhere before, that this wasn’t just Kyoto-ites, and that people from all over Japan and the world had come to visit.  Most of the evening was spent just walking the streets, visiting vendors, and oohing and aahing at the floats stationed around the downtown that would be in the parade the

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next day.  Nick loved the floats’ paper lanterns, as did I, but I’m just going to come right out and say this: all the floats looked pretty much the same.  Having grown up in California, I thought this might be something like the Rose Parade, where each float is unique and they all try to outdo one another.  Nope!  But then, I guess the appearance of the floats might not really be the point. 

In any case, we eventually got claustrophobic from pushing through the crowds so much, and looked for a place to settle for the evening.  After much hemming and hawing, we sat down at Club East, an unassuming somewhat dingy place in the basement of a building along the canal.  No more thought went into this than, “Hey, they have a sign out front saying drinks are ¥500 (a little less than $5, which is cheap here).”  This was another tiny place, with two empty four-top tables and a counter that seated about six.  When we arrived, there was the bartended and a Japanese man and woman about our age who were clearly the bartender’s friends, but that was it. 

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We sat at the bar, ordered our drinks, and we talking amongst ourselves, but it was clear from awkward occasional eye contact that they wanted to talk to us but didn’t know how.  Finally, the male friend of the bartender piped up and asked if we liked our drinks.  We said yes.  He told us the drinks were strong, so we’d get rosy cheeks.  We all giggled.  The ice was broken now, and we tried to talk to them, but our Japanese is limited to the handful of phrases I remember from the one semester of Japanese I took in college four years ago before running out of electives.  The bartender and his female friend seemed to know just a touch more English as I know Japanese, and it was the somewhat-proficient male friend who had to do most of the work of making this conversation happen.  We ended up staying for about three and a half hours and having another amazing night.  Since the bar remained empty all night (I don’t understand how any of these businesses make any money), it was like being at a party at someone’s home.  They’d try to talk to us about music and then play it for us over the speakers.  The bartender (Jackie) played guitar and sang vocals for a punk-reggae-ska-rock-and-roll band, the girl (Ami) loved Britney Spears and some Japanese group called Yuzu, and the guy (whose name was something like ‘Pachugo’) loved Bette Midler.  That’s right – Bette Midler.  I thought he was pulling our leg at first because he seemed like a joker and it was hard to imagine a 27 year old guy’s favorite artist being Bette Midler, but he was dead serious and launched into an a capella rendition of Wind Beneath My Wings for us.  Then Ami wanted to turn the club into a karaoke bar, and got Jackie to play Britney Spear’s Overprotected on the speakers on repeat.  She knew all the words, all the more incredible considering I’m not sure she knew what most of them meant, and wanted us to accompany her.  Though Nick joined in enthusiastically, Ben and I didn’t know the words, so we just sort of danced lamely. 

Music was also the catalyst of the one moment of completely clear understanding all night long.  All of the hotel rooms here have the panels built into the bed stand or bed frame that look like what people in the 1950s might imagine future electronics to look like (that is, they’re clunky and have an unnecessary number of switches and dials). The panel always has a dial labeled ‘BGM’, which will play background music if it is turned up.  This is what they have instead of a clock radio, but all it plays is a single track of the hotel’s selection over and over again.  In our last hotel, it was some traditional reed flute and tambourine music that was fairly horrific.  In Club East, before the karaoke party got started, Ben remarked at one point that we needed some ‘BGM’, they overheard and responded with cries of “BGM!” and started playing the bartender’s band’s music off their phones.  Who knew BGM was such a universal concept?

Another great moment in my mind was when we all tried to describe what we do.  Nick and I hemmed and hawed and tried to avoid answering.  I can’t even explain what management consultants do in English, much less in Japanese.  Ben volunteered that he’s a banker.  Both their initial and secondary reactions were priceless.  Initial reaction: “You’re a baker? [Pantomimes kneading bread].”  We all laugh and Ben says, “No banker“, and spells it out for them.  Secondary reaction: “Sodesne!!! [Is that so!!!]” Ami made a delighted squeaking noise and sidled her stool a little closer to Ben. 

I asked Pachugo what he did and I love that he gave me the benefit of the doubt and assumed that I’d understand him when he responded with “Freeta des.  [I'm a Freeter.]“  ‘Freeter’ roughly translates to ‘Slacker’ in English, except it’s a little more specific.  It refers to young Japanese people post-high school or post-college who don’t have a job and who mooch off their parents.  We all laughed really hard and I volunteered that “I am now too!  As of one week ago!” (Ok not really, I’m not mooching off my folks, but I will be job hunting…)  He beamed and said “For me, as of two years ago!” and started laughing hysterically again. 

Eventually Nick and I noticed that the more Ben drank, the more enthusiastic he got about having another drink, so we around 1:00am, we scooted on home.

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Our third day in Japan was spent exploring the rest of Kyoto.  We got off to a slower start than on previous days, given the revelry of the night before, and given that we had to haul our bags back to our first hotel.  This was one of the major glitches of the trip.  Because Gion Matsuri is such a big deal, our original Hotel, Fujita Hotel Kyoto, had no room for us on the 16^th.  So, we stayed at Hotel Fujita on the 14^th, 15^th, and 17^th, and the Gion APA (stands for ‘Always Pleasant Amenity’!) on the 16^th.  The two are a little over a mile apart, and we had no better way to move our stuff between hotels on the mornings of the 16^th and 17^th than to walk it over — Through gigantic crowds — In the kind of humidity that makes you wipe giant rivers of sweat off your face only to find that by the time you’ve reached the bottom of your face, the top half is soaked again.  As I said, this was a major oversight. 

Once we were re-settled, we visited Nijo Castle and its gardens, as well as the Imperial Palace Park.  We speculated that maybe the reason Kyoto has no homeless people (or none that we’ve seen so far) is that you would quite literally die if you had no respite from the heat and humidity, so people must migrate to the north or to the coast in the summer.  Or, maybe we’ve just lived in San Francisco too long and have forgotten that other cities don’t necessarily have people living three-to-a-block on every sidewalk.

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In the afternoon we parked at the International Manga Museum for a few hours.  It’s really more of a library than a museum, which I thought gave it a really welcoming feel.  It’s bright and airy, and any visitor can take any manga (comic book) off the shelves and take it to any one of dozens of couches, chairs, picnic benches, or the astroturf lawn out front to read.  There was a limited English selection, but we enjoyed the chance to rest our feet and bask in the breeze of their air conditioner.  We also noticed that they had the best toilet of any we’ve seen so far on the trip.  Not only did it have the usual bidet and shower functions of adjustable water pressure, but it also could produce a ‘BGM’ of sorts, a flushing sound, to cover noises, and it bore a button labeled ‘Powerful Deodorizer’. 

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That night, we went out for yakitori and shabu-shabu.  The restaurant had an electric stove in the middle of the table, with a metal pot and griddle that sat on top of it.  For one price, you get all the meat and vegetables you want to grill on the griddle or boil in the pot.  Usually these places leave me feeling cheated.  I’m a relatively small person after all, so at all you can eat places I usually just end up paying a higher price for the same amount I’d normally eat.  Not this time though!  After all the walking we had done, we were all famished, and we must have finished off a sizable portion of a cow.  However, this was only possible after getting a little territorial.  I kept putting pieces of meat on the grill, and then while waiting for them to cook, I’d look away and then look back to find they had been poached by one of the boys!  I tried not to say anything, but I think they had a lower tolerance for eating potentially still-raw meat, so the pieces never lasted long enough to be cooked well enough for me to get them.  Eventually, I cordoned off a little section of the grill with some slices of onion and cooked my meat on there.  Once we were all convinced that we’d have meat sweats all night (but how would you even know given that it’s so sweaty here anyway??), we called it quits and headed on out.  We didn’t go out that night, but we did stop to watch some more of the ongoing Gion Matsuri festivities and play some Pachinko.

Yesterday was our last day in Kyoto, and we spent it in Arashiyama, a suburb in the foothills.  I, of course, was excited about the prospect of visiting the Arashiyama Monkey Park.  The Japanese snow monkeys are the entire reason I became interested in Japan in the first place.  I was a Human Evolutionary Biology major, which involved taking several primatology classes.  Somehow, in the course of these studies, I settled on the Japanese macaques (snow monkeys) as my favorite monkeys.  I think it’s partly their ingenuity (they wash their food in the river, and sit in the hot springs in the winter looking like skiers in a hot tub all tuckered out after a day on the slopes), partly their social structure (cheers for matriarchies!), and partly their funny little red faces in their furry coats.  I was convinced at one point that I’d come here to study them for my senior thesis or PhD, which was what prompted me to take Japanese lessons, which prompted the Japanese history classes.  In the end, none of that amounted to much, and my thesis was about fossils and the missing link instead, but the snow monkeys have a special place in my heart. 

The park is on a hill on the south side of town.  It is posted with a large number of signs warning visitors “Monkeys: Please do not show them any food. Please do not look at them in the eyes.”  At first, we thought, no big deal – hell, we don’t even see any monkeys.  We climbed a slope for 10 minutes, which under any temperate conditions would have been mildly strenuous at worst, but which left us looking like we had stood under a shower given the heat and humidity of the day.  All throughout this climb, which was inside the park where the monkeys run free, we saw nothing.  I was starting to get a little cranky.  Then, when we were just one turn away from the top, we saw one in a tree about 30 feet away.  He was chewing on some leaves and scooting about, generally minding his own business.  Then, all of a sudden, an adult monkey scampered onto the trail right behind us.  I was so excited, and about to take his picture, when she suddenly became aggressive.  She started advancing on us, growling, barking, and baring her teeth.  At this point, I was starting to get really nervous, because she was only a foot away and looked intent on biting off our feet.  I was really wishing I had worn running shoes and maybe pants too.  I might have recovered at this point, except as we tried to ignore her and keep walking she started following us and getting angrier sounding.  We started walking faster and so did she.  Then, all of a sudden, two more monkeys scampered down from in front of us and blocked us in.  I lost it at this point and started screaming, which I’m sure didn’t help.  Ben was pretty nervous too, but very chivalrously tried to put himself between me and the monkeys.  Nick just laughed and walked on ahead up the trail.  Ben and I followed, scooting as far as we could away from the monkeys, trying to keep an eye on them without actually looking them in the eye. 

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Around the next corner was the top of the hill, which held a city panorama viewing platform and a small rest station.  I made a beeline for the rest station and safety from the monkeys.  They were everywhere up here!  Forget the three from before; there were dozens of monkeys, probably close to 100 of them, lolling around in the sun all over the place.  Inside the rest station, we purchased some sweet potato chunks that we fed to them through the wire walls of the building.  After no one lost a finger, we got a little braver and went back outside to get a better look at them.  They were grooming, playing, and lounging in the spray from a hose that had been set up for them.  The babies, some no bigger than a kitten, were especially funny.  They roughhoused just like little kids.  We stayed up there for a long time, taking more pictures of monkeys than just about everything else on the trip combined, and then started back down. 

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We got some ice cream, which has become a near daily habit, and discovered that the Japanese have some odd tastes.  Nick got a pink flavor that was labeled “#1 popular flavor,” but which turned out to be cotton candy, and a somewhat bizarre version of it at that.  I got something which sounded like “lemon soda” when the man described it, but which was blue with marshmallows floating in it, and which tasted like bubblegum.

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We wandered around Tenryu-ji temple, which had one of the best Zen gardens we’ve seen so far, briefly checked out the bamboo grove, had some lunch, and then got on our way back to the city.  We picked up our bags from the train station lockers and jumped on a train to Tokyo. 

So, that’s it for Kyoto!  We’ll be here in Tokyo until the 23^rd, and then I’m off to San Diego.  I’ll do my best to get some of our hundreds of pictures up before then, but it may have to wait until I’m back in the States.  Until then, sayonara!