Little clams graced the miso soup at breakfast this morning.
After breakfast, Japanese-style (with smoked eel - bacon good and delicious!), we caught the subway to the Tsukiji Fish Market. After getting off the subway we stopped into the Tsukiji Hongan-ji, a Buddhist temple where we observed a portion of the service while looking at the architecture. We also found in a side hall a display of sand painting (tray pictures a/k/a bonseki), flower arranging and calligraphy that were most pleasing to behold.
When we left the temple, the rain had increased to a downpour, so even though I was wearing a rain jacket with a hood and hat, the umbrella went up.
The Tsukiji Fish Market (actually the “outer market”) is a warren of alleys, crowded with awnings dripping and pouring off the rain. There were a fair number of people crowding the passageways, although fewer due to the rain. A panoply of seafood was on display with occasional shops that offered knives, kitchenware, and other food related items. We stopped at a vendor who was preparing mixed seafood on scallop shells over a gas grill. Upon receiving an order he would finish off the dish with a pair of blow torches. Both Mason and Mike partook of the offering – although Mason dropped a piece of crab claw to the pavement as I observed that the 5-second rule did not apply to asphalt. The rest of the dish successfully consumed, we wandered on with Mason snagging a rice-wrapped, triangularly shaped roll stuffed with seafood and other goodies that we passed around.
Approaching lunchtime, we passed a lot of food stalls with stools and counters for folks to sit and eat, as well as more typical restaurants. Our primary criterion was five seats together. I spotted such a place, where we sat around a corner of a sushi bar, complete with conveyor belt. All the other necessities were on the counter – pickled ginger, chopsticks, tea mugs, powdered green tea, and a hot water tap. We got right down to business. Mike made a special order for uni (sea urchin parts) that so defeated a former coworker of mine a number of years ago (he had to dash to the bathroom to spit it out). When it was done, I had the most dishes piled (neatly) in front of me – eight plus the mango jello. Each dish was priced according to the pattern/design of the dish, but the waitress waved an electronic device over the stack that apparently read a chip embedded in each plate – she didn’t even have to look at the plates.
Little clams graced the miso soup at breakfast this morning.
Tsukiji Hongan-ji.
One of the flower arrangements using a Clematis.
Tray sand painting or bonseki.
A small cabinet with media for bonseki.
The tools used for bonseki.
An alley in the outer Tsukiji Fish Market.
Sea urchins (uni).
Mason got one of the mixed seafood dishes prepared on a scallop shell.
A close-up of the dish.
Mike tries one also. Cindy's rain coat glitters water droplets - it poured while we explored the market.
Scallop shells on the grill, with other seafood.
Those hunks of meat aren't beef - they're tuna.
Dried squid for sale.
Lost opportunities. The conveyor belt at the sushi restaurant as it went by me.
The aftermath.
A figure on the top of a parade float at the Edo-Tōkyō Museum.
A close up of one of the 1:30-scale models on display.
Mike and Cindy peering across from the other side.
Close-up of an ornate gate in one of the models.
Walking back from the museum, one of the modern tourist boats on the river.
From the restaurant, we went back to the subway to catch the train to the Edo-Tōkyō Museum. After about five stops we realized we were going the wrong direction and got off at the next stop to go back to our transfer station. Leaving the subway, we boarded the Japan Rail train. After about five stops we realized we were going the wrong direction and got off at the next stop and crossed the platform and caught the train to the Ryoku station adjacent to the museum.
We spent a couple hours wandering the exhibits before we split up. Cindy, Mike, and Mason headed off to a sumo match, while Jonathan (who expressed adamant disinterest in sumo wrestling) walked back to the ryokan. We stopped at Kamiya Bar again for another beer, which hit the spot, and once back at the ryokan, we napped until the sumo fans returned. It was apparently an eventful match – the underdog won and the patrons were throwing their red seat cushions into the ring like Frisbees.
We walked a couple blocks to a neighborhood bar, complete with three sake barrels out front that the front desk recommended. Mason and Cindy were hankering for some hot sake, and we put away two carafes of the stuff. The menu suffered a bit in translation to English, and while “whale bacon” sounded interesting, I stuck to more mundane dishes.