Joseph Mallozzi's Blog! (SPOILERS For All SG Shows and Dark Matter)

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December 7, 2010

Photos: Ivon Bartok, dinner


One of the great things about traveling east is that the time shift doesn’t play havoc with your sleeping patterns. Not really. The first few days after you’re arrival, you’re in bed by 10:00 p.m. and up at a refreshing 6:00 to 7:00 a.m.-ish, ready for a full day of activities and, first and foremost, breakfast sushi at Tsukiji. The first night can be a bit of a killer though.

Ivon and I flew out at 2:00 p.m. PST and arrived a little after midnight that same day – which, it turns out, is a little after 5:00 p.m. the following day. The flight was fairly non-eventful although a mild sense of panic did set it at one point when, following a touch of turbulence, the pilot informed the cabin: “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we’re experiecing a little trouble…” OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD! “…the inflight entertainment system.” OH. Oh. Never mind then. Apparently, one of the servers was experiencing a problem, freezing up under the demand of so many passengers trying to view The Expendables and Dinner for Shmucks. Fortunately, my program choices were significantly less popular, so I had no trouble getting through My Dog Tulip an animated feature based on the book by J.R. Ackerly. “Unable to love each other, the English turn naturally to dogs.” is the quote that opens this wry, sweet, and ultimately very touching tale of an man and his devoted but troublesome Alsatian. Just what I needed. I also watched Catfish, a surprisingly good documentary that tracks a New York photographer’s burgeoning online relationship with a mystery gal from Michigan, and the bizarre developments that come when the veil of online anonymity is pulled away.

The in-flight meal was unremarkable. The fish was bland, the chicken microwaved to a scorching hot, while the chocolate molten lava cake was decidedly dormant. We finally arrived at Narita airport and, as we disembarked and headed for the baggage claim, I noticed someone standing off to the side with an “Ivon Bartok” sign. “The lucky b a s t a r d,”I thought, assuming the hotel had sent a limo to pick him up. I was wondering why the hell he was receiving preferential treatment when the sign-holder informed us that Ivon’s luggage hadn’t made the flight and would, instead, be joining him at a later date. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after. How the hell Air Canada screwed up is beyond me. Considering they already knew he wasn’t getting his luggage before we even hit the baggage claim, my guess is they loaded up the cargo hold in Vancouver, waved goodbye as the plane flew off, then turned around to head back inside and noticed the lone suitcase with the “Property of Ivon Bartok” tag lying on the tarmac behind them. Oopsy. Better get on the phone to Narita.

Is anyone that surprised? Ivon’s bad vacation mojo strikes again!

After the long shuttle ride from the airport to The Imperial Hotel, we checked in, then had steak and sake at the hotel’s teppanyaki restaurant, Kamon.

Afterwhich we went out for a stroll, promptly got lost, and spent the next half hour wandering around Ginza trying to find our way back.

Tomorrow: sushi breakfast at Tsukiji Market, dinner at Birdland, and Ivon goes shopping for a new wardrobe.

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December 8, 2010

Photos: Ivon Bartok, breakfast, Ginza tour, casino game lounge, food, subway station, cafe, desserts, message, the Mori Art museum


The great thing about traveling from west to east is that the jet lag actually works in your favor. You’re exhausted by 10:00 p.m. but up and ready to go by 6:00 a.m. Or, in Ivon’s case this morning, 5:00 a.m. As an added bonus, he didn’t need to waste time deciding what to wear because, as documented in yesterday’s blog, thanks to Air Canada he’s in Tokyo with only the clothes on his back.

Ivon decided this trip was going to be all about the waking, so we took the twenty minute stroll from our hotel to the Tsukiji fish market where we enjoyed a sushi breakfast comprised of an unbelievable tuna platter, some sea eel and tamago.

Afterwhich we did the walking tour of Ginza.

We stopped by Akemi’s old workplace, the Pierre Marcolini Cafe, where I caught up with the gals and Moro-san, who was enjoying her day off, left a message for me in the form of a welcome back coaster...

We returned to the hotel for an hour where I experienced all sorts of computer-related issues. First off, I was unable to use my skype mobile because, for some reason, it tells me that my iPhone isn’t connected to the internet even though its connected to my computer that IS connected to the internet. Is there some sort of setting I’ve failed to switch on/off? I eventually settled for a computer skype session with Akemi and, after several failed attempts to connect (my contact list kept informing me that she was off-line, even though she wasn’t, and that I was off-line, even though I wasn’t) finally succeeded – although, again for reasons unknown, the audio wasn’t working. I could hear skype dial, hear the messages being received, but couldn’t hear Akemi. And she couldn’t hear me – until she donned earphones. What gives? I blame this new Sony Vaio travel computer I picked up that, it turns out, is about half as slow as the six year old version it replaced. Serves me right for buying a PC. Never. Ever. Again.

We met up again and hit Roppongi in atypical fashion, skipping the bars in favor of the Mori Art Museum where we checked out the planetarium, the sky view, a Japanese blond, and an awesome exhibit of the works of Odani Motohiko that proved infinitely impressive, mesmerizing, and, at times, deeply unsettling.

We then headed over to Midtown where we sampled some twelve dollars strawberries (video to follow). Ivon’s resolve gradually faded and, before long, we were avoiding the stairs in favor of the nice, lazy escalator ride down to the subway platform.

Back at the hotel and getting ready to head out. Tonight, we eat the **** out of Birdland!

Jelly heads into surgery tomorrow morning. My poor gal.

Today’s blog entry is dedicated to MightyStarGazer.

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December 9, 2010

Photos: Jelly, the Roppongi Hills spider, dehydrated kimchee, ebi gratin, and takoyaki, space curry, Tokyo skyline, buildings, heli-pad?, geishas, strawberries, Joe, dinner


Jelly’s doctor emailed me this morning to tell me that the surgery went like clockwork and the disc came away nicely. My gal is waking up and, hopefully, on the road to a speedy recovery.

Last night, the airport called to inform Ivon his luggage had finally completed its long and eventful journey from Canada and would be delivered asap. Ivon was elated and, despite being exhausted, stayed up for the much-anticipated reunion. That never came. Apparently, he eventually dozed off and what followed was a fitful night’s rest disturbed by beer and sake-induced nightmares of his luggage almost but not quite ever reaching home. Then, this morning he finally got the call from the front desk. They were sending someone up with the luggage! An exhausted Ivon waited impatiently for that knock on the door and, when it finally came, it was with a sense of enormous relief that he answered. “Hello,”said the smiling bellhop. “I am here to pick up your bags!”

Anyhoo, Ivon got it all sorted out and, I’m happy to report, now has a smile on his face and clean underwear under his pants.

First up, some pics from our visit to Roppongi yesterday afternoon...

And some of my favorite buildings -

And other sights...

So, last night, Ivon and I hit Birdland, apparently THE place for grilled chicken in Tokyo. Finding our way around has been a bit of a challenge so far, and the search for Birdland was no exception. Fortunately, unlike a few of the other places, this one actually had an address. It was located in the basement floor of an office building in Ginza.

The place was considerably smaller than I’d imagined and, while very good, probably not somewhere I’d go back to anytime soon. I’d certainly recommend it as far as yakitori joints go. Still, I went in expecting a raucous feast and went away a tad underwhelmed.

Today = Butagumi (tonkatsu) for lunch, an Omotesando stroll, strange doughnuts, enough dessert to kill a lesser man, and dinner at Tofuro (izakaya). Full report tomorrow. With pics!

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December 10, 2010

Photos: Lunch at Butagumi, Roppongi station, pants, architecture, Ivon Bartok, desserts, doughnuts, christmas tree, platform for women only subway car, assortment of Jean-Paul Hevin chocolate macarons


My feet hurt. I figured this trip would be a great opportunity to break in those new shoes but, instead, they seem to be breaking me. We’ve been doing a fair amount of walking these past couple of days and if it weren’t for the endless array of desserts that have given me the much-needed energy boosts I required to complete these seemingly endless strolls, I don’t know what I’d do. Probably do less walking for one.

Yesterday, we had lunch at Butagumi, a tiny refurbished house turned tonkatsu restaurant serving up the most unbelievable array of crispy-fried pork goodness. The great thing about traveling with a friend is that it allows you to rely on one another’s strengths and weaknesses to get around. I, for instance, lend my experience and expertise on the city’s food, subway system, and strict rules and regulations ranging from not eating in public to not sleeping on the subway platforms. Ivon, on the other hand, can actually read a map. And so, it was mainly thanks to Ivon that we finally arrived at our lunch destination in Nishi Azabu.

It was cool outside but inside was a pleasant tropical temperature. Pleasant when you initially walked in to the place, then really freakin’ hot as the meal progressed. Since we wanted to sample a variety of porkly offerings, we decided to go with the Butagumi-Zen platter comprised of five kinds of pork, three sirloins and two filets (Iwachuu, Ryuuka-ton from Okinawa, Imobuta from Chiba, Eishow-ton which hails from China and is 80% fat, and the grand-daddy of pork – Iberico from Spain). To further hedge our bets, we also ordered a katsu curry of Matsuzaka pork from Mie.

A good time and a great meal. I very much enjoyed sampling the various offerings and sussing out their porkly nuances. For his part, Ivon enjoyed the meal as well but wished at least some of the variations had been grilled rather than deep-fried. But then, that’s tonkatsu.

Afterwards, we took a walk up to Roppongi station where we caught the metro to Omotesando...

Next blog entry: Prison-style izakaya! Star Bar! Electric Town!

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December 11, 2010

Video: Ivon Bartok

Photos: Ivon Bartok, dinner, Kishi Hisashi, Ginza, Pizza Salvatore Cuomo, Akihabara


Last night was one of those reservationless evenings designed to allow us to play things by ear, get some local input on our eating schedule. And so it was that, following a recommendation from the hotel concierge, we found ourselves at Tofuro izakaya. Now, the first thing that struck us was the ancient Chinese prison-like cells, I mean dining rooms. We were told to take off our shoes (no doubt to make it tougher for us to make a break for it) when the time came, then seated in a tiny room after which the (cell) door slid shut behind us. I half-expected a group of waiters to come rushing and beat the soles of our feet.

The second thing to strike us was the size of menu offering everything from Chinese dumplings to hot dog salads. Hell, there were so many dishes that they needed THREE menus to cover them all.

We had various skewers, some fried squid paste, and I got Ivon to sample grilld beed tongue for the first time. All in all, an interesting meal but not a place I’d pencil in for a return visit.

So far in Tokyo, we’ve hit our share of lame bars: Peters in The Peninsula (tries so hard to be hip it’s kind of embarrassing), and the Old Imperial at the Imperial Hotel (smoky as hell, the seats and tables are so small you’d think the lounge had been designed for hard-drinking children). But, last night, we found ourselves at a bar that instantly became our new Tokyo watering hole. Tiny and unpretentious, Star Bar is owned and operated by bartender extraordinaire Kishi Hisashi who prepares every cocktail in the house with deft but easy-going precision. Each drink commands his full attention and it’s a marvel to watch the man work – deftly icing, stirring, shaking, and pouring his creations, then serving them up just so. Ivon had a couple of Whiskey Sours while I started with a Gin Gimlet, then followed with a Sidecar. The Moscow Mules he served up in copper cups to the couple beside us looked great, definitely something I’ll order on our next visit.

After drinks, we took a stroll through Ginza -

I woke up the next day feeling refreshed and ready to hit the streets. Ivon, marginally less so given he was still smarting from the previous day’s massage. Apparently, that seventy year old masseuse may have looked weak, but she worked him over like stubborn pizza dough.

Hey, speaking of pizza, we finally checked out that pizzeria Akemi has been raving about since arriving in Vancouver. Apparently, Vancouver pizza is crap and doesn’t hold a candle to Pizza Salvatore Cuomo. So, we went there for lunch and you know what? Akemi’s right. Vancouver pizza doesn’t even come close. The pizza is fresh, tasty, perfectly cooked, and inexpensive.

From there, it was off to Akihabara (Electric Town). It was a full sensory overload of garish signage, flashing neon, people shouting, car exhaust, and the smell of the nearby river.

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December 12, 2010

Photos: Tokyo: Sawada, Sawada-san, Ivon Bartok, Star Bar, Chocolat Marble, lunch, Hibiya Park, japanese television crew, dogs


First, the Jelly update. She’s on her way home today!

So last night, I paid a return visit to one of my favorite sushi restaurants in Tokyo: Sawada. I figured that since this was Ivon’s first visit to the city, he should be treated to a true sushi feast. And Sawada did not disappoint...

Then, we moved on to the nigiri. We had ika (squid), what I believe was saury, two different kinds of horse mackerel, clam, ark shell, various tunas, hirame...

We were served up several more nigiri, then capped our meal with a terrific tamago. The verdict? Ivon said it was the best meal he’s ever had. Mission accomplished. Since it was my return visit to the restaurant, I gifted Sawada-san a bottle of ice wine and then we were on our way.

We were feeling pretty good, partly due to the incredible meal we’d enjoyed, partly due to the three carafes of premium sake we knocked back. And so, following a late night stroll through Ginza...

...we found ourselves back at what is fast-becoming our favorite watering hole, Star Bar, where we sampled a few more of Master Kishi-san’s creations...

It was admittedly a rough night after that and I ended up sleeping in to 9:00 a.m. the following morning. Ivon was up at 8:00 a.m. and took a stroll in nearby Hibiya Park where he claims he saw a family of feral cats living in the park. We walked through later that day but there was no sign of feral cats. I wonder what color these feral cats were. I’m guessing pink maybe?

We headed out at about 11:00 for lunch.

After looking for an appropriate lunch spot, we settled on a yakiniku/barbecue grill join on the seventh floor of some building. We were seated in a tiny two-seat table and presented with a menu that broke down the entire cow by cut. We ultimately setttled for something called the “premium” cut. To Ivon’s horror, we later realized that, apparently, “premium” is synonymous with “fat”.

Following lunch, Ivon was feeling a little on the queasy side, so he decided to head back to the hotel for an hour or so to recuperate. For my part, I decided to counter the fat I’d just consumed with my go-to cure-all: sugar!

Ivon was also feeling much better later, so we decided to check out the Ginza area – specifically Ginza Dori which is open to foot traffic on the weekend. As we were walking along, we were stopped by a Japanese television crew and interviewed about the differences between Christmas in Japan and Christmas in North America.

My impression was that, while North American Christmas was a time for family, Japanese Christmas was a holiday for kids and couples. Still, for what it was worth, Tokyo out-Christmases any North American city I’ve ever visited.

They asked us if we were familiar with Christmas cake. Apparently, it’s tradition for the Japanese to eat strawberry shortcake this time of year (which I’d choose over fruit cake any day). They also asked us if we were familiar with the tradition of the Christmas boot, a small plastic boot that is filled with traditional Christmas treats (ie. seasame crackers) and gifted to kids. I pointed out that we hang stockings instead of boots but it’s a testament to the spirit of Christmas that we can come together in communal footwear-stuffing.

And then it was back to the hotel to get ready for dinner.

Next up: Pachon! My toy store haul! Out and about with Keiko!

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December 13, 2010

Photos: Restaurant Pachon, Sachi, dinner, Allo Cafe, Kit Kats, t-shirts, lunch at Great Burger, the backstreets of Omotesando, Ivon Bartok


Having subsisted on nothing but fat, sugar, and alcohol for the past twenty-four hours, I was feeling a little light-headed as dinner time rolled in last night. Under normal circumstances, I might have called it an early night but, of course, these were not normal circumstances. I was in Tokyo and headed to Pachon, a restaurant recommended to me by the king of French dining (and portable salt pouch) himself, Stefan.

As always, we had excellent directions to where we were headed along with an accompanying map. And, as always, we got lost. Fortunately, we made it in time for our reservation. Our dining companion, Sachi, was already there.

Throughout the evening, the chef would come out of the kitchen to survey the dining room and make sure all the diners were happily enjoying their meals. I thought that a very nice touch.

I did, instead, avail myself of the dessert cart. Mini macarons, chocolate biscuits, and pistache de provences.

After the excellent meal, we wandered back to the subway and passed this curious vehicle:

We caught the subway back, got off on the wrong stop, then Ivon got fed up and we caught a cab back to the hotel. There, I documented some of my recent toy store haul...

I slept fitfully last night – which is about par for the course so far. If it aint the alcohol or the rich food, it’s the dry air and weird in-room temperatures that varied wildly between freezing cold and blistering hot those first few days until I discovered how to turn off the air-conditioner (which happened to be running along with the heat).

Today, we met up with my friend Keiko who brought us to Great Burger for some pretty good burgers (the burgers are Alright Burgers were just so-so). Following a ten minute wait (apparently anywhere worth eating/shopping/drinking in Tokyo requires a wait) we were eventually seated and served.

After lunch, we walked the backstreets of Omotesando and, eventually, Harajuku...

And Ivon bought a new pair of glasses -

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December 14, 2010

Videos: Creating veggie caviar, Puff, Ivon Bartok

Photos: The Molecular Tapas Bar at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, Chef Ramsey, lunch at Hokkaido Ramen Toro, Heavenly Compote Waffle, desserts, Temp VFX's for SGU's The Hunt


Back in Vancouver when I was organizing this trip (a.k.a. = our eating schedule) I asked Ivon if there was any particular food or restaurant he wanted to try. To his credit, he wanted to try everything – but there was one place in particular place he wanted to visit while in town: The Molecular Tapas Bar at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, the home of molecular gastronomy here in Tokyo. Yesterday marked my third visit to the restaurant and, as always, Chef Jeff Ramsey (a student of José Andrés back in Washington, D.C.) never fails to impress.

There were three of us at the late 8:30 p.m. seating (Ivon, Keiko, and myself) so there was plenty of opportunity to chat with the affable and entertaining Chef Ramsey while we enjoyed our meals...

Chef Ramsey then demonstrated the process by which he creates veggie caviar...

And then it was on to desserts. First up, something called Puff...

The verdict? Fantastic. Ivon was particularly pleased since he found the experience educational and entertaining. And, of course, delicious. As for me – as I said, it was my third visit and, like my return visits to Tokyo itself, I love the fact that it offers the best of both worlds: a familiarity sprinkled with plenty of surprises.

By the time dinner wrapped up it was ticking past 11:00 p.m. and way past our bedtime. Yet again, we elected to forego a night of partying in favor of the errratically fluctuating temperatures of our respective hotel rooms. And bed.

I woke up the next morning parched, bleary-eyed, and feeling slightly hangover. This despite the fact that I had maybe one drink the previous night. I figure if I’m going to feel like this every morning, then, hell, I may as well drink!

Following a leisurely morning, we headed to Shinjuku where I could pick up some of the bare necessities Akemi requested (at Barney’s of New York). It was a rainy, cold day, so we ended up buying crappy umbrellas and – yet again – losing our way. But it was perfect ramen weather, and we wound up finding the perfect lunch stop: Hokkaido Ramen Toro.

The second we walked in, we were greeted by this -

You put your money in, then choose your ramen base (I chose the spicy), your extras (I chose extra pork), and other side dishes you may or may not get (I chose the gyoza that never came). Once we’d paid and made our selections, the machine spat out these tiny tickets with our order which we handed our super-lovely waitress, then we grabbed our seats.

It was a dreary day, so we focused most of our sight-seeing on the underground malls – and subway sweet shops like this place -

So-so. Ivon finished his only because he didn’t want to carry it around like that empty can of Coke he held onto for two hours because garbage bins in Tokyo are about as rare as panda sighting. I only took a few bites of mine, then ended up carrying the half-eaten waffle around, getting cream all over my hands while Ivon continually reminded me how much I was shaming him.

Eventually, Ivon headed back to the hotel while I headed over to the Pierre Marcolini Cafe to say hi to the girls, then to Mitsukoshi where I picked up three desserts from one of the basement patisseries (Chocolate Bel Amer)...

When I got back to the hotel, I found a FedEx envelope awaiting me. What was inside?

Awesome! I hurried over to my new laptop to watch them – only discover my new laptop doesn’t have a cd/dvd drive. And so, I ended heading down to the business center to watch ‘em.

Wow. Mark Savela and his crew do it again.

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December 15, 2010

Video: Ivon Bartok

Photos: Jelly, dinner at Kondo, Star Bar, Kishi Hisashi, sushi breakfast, Tsukiji market, Ivon Bartok, Hachiko, walking the streets of Shibuya


While here in Tokyo, I’ve been checking in with my dogsitter, Christine, who has been taking care of the pooches while I’ve been away. Today, I received the following update on the gang and a post-operative Jelly in particular:

“We are doing great. Jelly is recovering very well, today she was very happy to go out and sniff everything and I think she is starting to feel more herself again. Of course she is still on pain medication, but I haven’t had to give her any of the additional pain drugs they gave me at the vet clinic. We are doing leg massages and some exercises a few times a day.

She certainly has a good appetite, I have cut her food down to 1.5 pucks per meal and I’ve been giving her a little bit of pumpkin puree to help with her bowel movements. I will probably take her in to the vet on Wednesday when I take Max for the check up. I will be able to get her on the scale there and see if she has already lost some weight. It is going to help her a lot in her recovery.

I’ve attached two pictures. I gotta say, Jelly is such a trooper, I just love her to pieces

The rest of the gang is doing very well, loving all their walks and attention they get. Of course, Lulu always has to be the tough girl when it comes to other dogs...”

One of my aims over the course of this two-week trip is to introduce Ivon to a wide variety of Japanese foods. On our first night in, we did teppanyaki and he sampled kobe beef for the first time. Since then, we’ve covered sushi, ramen, yakiniku, yakitori, and izakaya. Last night, we did tempura.

Heh heh. Makes me sorry I’m not traveling with Carl too.

Ivon and I tried to walk off dinner by walking around Ginza and, when that didn’t seem to be working, tried to burn it off with a few drinks at – where else? – Star Bar. We allowed Kishi-san to call the shots on this night.

The following morning, I awoke as dehydrated and dizzy as usual – but at least I had a good reason for feeling hung over on this day. I WAS! Fortunately, I knew the perfect hangover remedy...

We checked out the Tsukiji Market in passing...

Then we hopped on the Ginza line and headed over to Shibuya. At the immense station, we stopped of Decadence de Chocolat where I purchased the best pistachio macaron I’ve had on this trip (sorry, Pierre Herme). Then, we headed out and snapped a pic of Hachiko -

Two rainy days in a row, but Wednesday promises to be brighter...

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December 16, 2010

Photos: Dinner at Hirosaku, Jon and Ivon Bartok, Joe Mallozzi, family and staff, Hideyuki, the neighbors, lunch at Nodaiwa, the Tokyo Tower in Shiba, Moro-san, the view, lookdown windows, wax museum


The other night, we continued our tour of varying Japanese cuisines by hitting Hirosaku in Shimbashi. It’s a family-owned and operated restaurant focusing on traditional dishes and high quality ingredients.

“Is this a typical Japanese meal?”Ivon asked at one point.

“Yes,”my friend Jon replied – “for very wealthy Japanese families.”

“This is how they ate in olden times,”I added.

“Yes,”Jon agreed – “if they were very wealthy families.”

VERY wealthy. But I get ahead of myself.

Armed with a map provided for us by our hotel concierge, we headed out on foot and promptly got lost looking for the restaurant. We asked a helpful policeman, then wound our way around the neighborhood, stopping at the same spot to ask the policeman directions, then wound our way around to spot the same policeman awaiting our return. Eventually, we asked some guy in an alleyway either stocking a store (or looting it) who was more than happy to direct us to a street we’d already covered twice – only to succeed in locating Hirosaku the third time.

Once inside, we were greeted by Mrs. Watanabe (who apparently remembered me from my last visit – Ohishashiburi desu ne?), and my friend and fellow foodie blogger Jon who calls Tokyo home ( http://iitokorone.blogspot.com/ - Can’t wait to read the write-up on this one).

We took off our shoes (It’s customary to hold a customer’s shoes hostage until the bill has been paid) and were then directed up the steepest staircase I’ve ever hazarded -

- and seated in a private room -

We chatted, drank some sake, and enjoyed a very nice meal...

Our meal concluded, we braved the steep staircase to reach the main floor and reclaim our shoes. When we were presented with the bill, I did a double-take, not sure I was reading it correctly. Unfortunately for me, there was no linguistic divide here. They were universal numbers, not letters. Specifically, 107 000 yen. By far our priciest meal yet. In fact, I’d say probably my priciest meal in Tokyo ever.

We paid and headed out. As we left, the family and staff gathered to see us off.

We walked and chatted amongst ourselves. About halfway down the street, I glanced back – and they were still standing outside, waving. I waved back and continued on my way. About a minute later, I glanced back. They were still standing/waving. We eventually too a corner – but not before I turned and gave them one final wave. Even though it’s unlikely, I like to think that they’re still out there, gazing happily down that empty street, waving.

After dinner, we followed Jon through a series of alleys to a sake bar located in another alley. It’s affable host recognized Jon immediately and welcomed him back for his second only visit to his establishment.

We were seated next to a table of four Japanese businessmen who had apparently been there a while. One sat slumped in his chair, face down on the table, for the length of our entire one hour stay in the bar. Another stumbled over at one point and attempted to recommend some sake but, sadly, proved too inchorent to be of any help.

Eventually, we let Hideyuki decide for us. His selections -

All great.

After a few drinks, we wound our way back through the streets of Shimbashi, dodging the gals on every street side and corner offering “massages”. If I was guaranteed I’d get an actual massage, I would have happily taken them up on their offers. My feet were killing me!

The next day, we enjoyed a late sleep, then met up with my friend Moro-san (of Pierre Marcolini fame) for an unagi lunch at Nodaiwa (located, interestingly enough, right next door to Birdland in the basement of the Tsukamotosozan Building). We all had the special Christmas set -

It was a simple meal but one of my favorites so far. Perfection. I’ll definitely try to squeeze in a return visit before I leave, possibly to try some of Nodaiwa’s special wild eel (they’re one of the few places to serve it).

After lunch, we took Moro-san up on her offer to take us to Tokyo Tower in Shiba. It was an interesting yet altogether terrifying experience.

A looooong way up. The glass elevator ride up to the observation platform was one of the most hair-raising experiences of my life. The second we cleared the enclosure and were permitted a clear view of the rapidly receding ground below, I instantly regretted my decision to go. Am I afraid of heights? No, of course not. It’s not like Ivon’s fear of small elevators and insects. Afraid isn’t the right word. It’s more of a medical condition that severely limits the strength in my knees once I rise past a certain height. Anyway, the symptoms of my condition kicked in almost instantly. I had to avert my gaze and assure myself that I would head right back down – and I would have if nor for the fact that, when the elevator doors slid open, the expanse of the observation deck looked a lot more solid and comforting than the prospect of an equally hair-rising elevator ride back down.

After walking the observation deck (hugging the far wall), it was time to head up to the SPECIAL observation deck at the top of the tower, about twice as high as the one I was standing on. We headed up the stairs and, as we awaited the elevator to whisk us up, panic set in. Well, not panic, really. That medical condition I was talking about. My palms were perspiring. My heart was hammering. I felt as if I’d downed six successive vodka shots. And when the doors to that tiny elevator slid open to welcome us in – I bailed.

Sorry. Couldn’t do it. Ivon and Moro-san headed up for what was, by all accounts, an even more terrifying ride up to the next level, punctuated by a soul-shaking rattle that elicited an audible gasp from Moro-san.

Eventually, they made their way down and Ivon took the opportunity to check out the crazy lookdown windows -

Afterwards, we finally headed downstairs where we took in one of the worst wax museums I’ve ever visited – which was rivaled by one of the worst haunted houses I’ve ever walked through (which included one of the worst 3D spectacles I’ve ever witnessed).

We concluded our visit with sub-par sundaes from a place called Cafe Motherfarm.

Today’s entry is dedicated to blog regular Das. Speedy recovery! Don’t make me come out there and get you!

[Jper]

They paid $1,300 for a meal for three persons... Crazy!

[Jumper_One]

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December 17, 2010

Video: Star Bar

Photos: Ishikawa-san and manager, Ivon Bartok, Kokoro, Kobe Beef Kawamura, Chef Hikaru Maehara, Ginza


Well, damn. Here I’d uploaded a blog entry last night, prepared to make some minor additions and post it this morning only to discover the breaking news of SGU’s cancellation. The first thing to tip me off something was up? The 50+ comments awaiting moderation on yesterday’s blog entry. My initial thought was “Wow! They really must’ve enjoyed that Tokyo Tower post!”.

Alas, it’s true. SyFy’s official twitter announcement confirms it. Stargate’s run on SyFy ends with SGU’s second season.

It’s disappointing but rather than dwell on the negatives, I’d prefer to focus on the positives. I had a wonderful time working on the franchise, eleven great years, and this was mainly due to all the terrific people involved, past and present: my fellow writer-producers, the directors, editors, consultants, post and production personnel, the various departments from costumes to Visual Effects and everything in between, the cast and crew, our long-time supporters at MGM and SyFy, and all the fans who took the time to watch and, occasionally, comment (especially on this blog). Thanks.

Anyway, I’ll have more to say on the subject in my next entry. For now, if you’re interested, feel free to peruse the latest update on my Tokyo trip….

The other night, we went to Ishikawa for dinner. A repeat visit for me. Alas, there were other customers at the counter-seating so I didn’t snap any pics. BUT I did snap THIS pic of Ishikawa-san once our meal had concluded and I gifted him a bottle of Canadian ice wine. Apparently, he’s a fan...

We ended the night…well, I’ll let you guess...

The next morning, we got together with Kokoro, a girl who helped us out by giving us directions when we were in Shinjuku. The hotel recommended this casual teppanyaki place – Kobe Beef Kawamura.

Later, we took a stroll through Ginza. Cold, COLD Ginza.

Some of the stand-out signs encountered on this trip so far...

[Jumper_One]

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December 18, 2010

Photos: Dinner at Muroi in Ginza, Muroi's chef and owner, Kanae, The Bamboo (Sadaharu Aoki), Ivon's Tarte Tatin, Le Plat de Degustation, Ivon Bartok, Tokyo


Whew! Two more nights like the last one and I should be right back on Vancouver time. So, late post today. Hell, late everything.

Thanks to everyone who has offered up their thoughts, comments, and words of support re: SGU. If this truly is the end, here’s hoping that you – the best fans in fandom – join me on my next adventure/project/mangosteen-selling venture. I know you have a slew of questions, but I won’t be able to field them until I’ve returned to Vancouver and had a chance to speak with Brad and Robert who are presently also more or less incommunicado (Rob somewhere tropical, Brad somewhere military – an aircraft carrier I think it was).

On to Tokyo things...

The other night, we hit Muroi in Ginza. It`s a restaurant known for its wild mushrooms, so I made sure to have the concierge at the hotel arrange for us to enjoy a mushroom-centric meal. And, boy, did we ever. The first half dozen dishes or so were all mushroom-centered, a variety of different offerings and preparations.

We were served the above and, about partway through the dish, one of the kimono-clad waitresses leaned and said ”Please, don’t eat the soup.” Ivon and I exchanged uncertain glances. Uh, why not? I may have inadvertently gotten some on my mushrooms. When we finished the last of the mushrooms, our dishes were whisked away. Seconds later, they were returned with a helping of rice and barley to help soak up the remnants of the soup. Ooooooh.

I enjoyed those first dishes but, to be honest, when I’d heard the restaurant specialized in mushrooms, I imagined the dishes would feature something else besides mushrooms (ie. mushrooms and chicken, mushrooms and fish). At a certain point in our dinner, the kindly owner admitted it had been a challenge to honor my request and prepare an all-mushroom meal. Hmmm. Clearly, we’d gotten our signals crossed. He asked if we would like to have something besides mushrooms. I could see the palpable sense of relief wash over Ivon. Yes, I told him. Something in addition to mushrooms would be great.

As we were served the fugu, the chef informed us it had taken much time to prepare. “To remove the poison,”Tomomi helpfully added.

“But there’s no actual poison,”said Ivon. “These are farmed fugu, right?”

“Oh, no,”said Tomomi. “This isn’t farmed.” Apparently, farmed fugu is for the lower end restaurants.

The meal concluded with three small savories (pasta, risotto, and rice), and two desserts. By dinner’s end, we’d enjoyed approximately twenty different plates.

A great meal and a great experience, mostly due to Muroi’s chef and owner who made us feel at ease and welcome throughout. As I told Tomomi (to tell him), my dining experience at Muroi was akin to enjoying a meal with my extended family (including, I suppose, that wonderful Japanese uncle who speaks no English but can cook and plate like no one else!).

We capped off the night with another visit to Star Bar. I’ve decided that next time I come to Tokyo, I’m just going to stay there and cut out the middleman (a.k.a. the hotel).

The next day, we met another Marcolini Girl, Kanae, for lunch at a Spanish restaurant we’d been meaning to try. Last week, we’d followed the great scent of paella up the stairs to the restaurant’s second floor digs – only to be informed they wouldn’t be open for another half hour. So, yesterday, we returned, a little later in the afternoon, to enjoy that paella. Alas, there wasn’t much enjoyment to be had. But it certainly smelled great!

Then, it was off to Midtown in Roppongi where we DID enjoy – some Henri Le Roux chocolates, some Jean-Paul Hevin macarons, and some Sadaharu Aoki desserts -

Eventually, Ivon headed back to the hotel while I paid a return visit to the Mori Arts Museum with Kanae for a second viewing of the Odani Motohiko exhibition. I took the opportunity to pre-order the special book the museum is issuing to commemorate the artist. It’ll be ready Monday, the day before we leave.

[Jumper_One]

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December 19, 2010

Photos: Ivon Bartok, Dinner at Ristorante Honda, Joe Mallozzi, movie poster, Star Bar, Kanae's present, lunch, Ginza, hotel lobby, pre-dinner snack


Last night, Ivon and I encoutered a first for Tokyo = spotty service. And at one of the city’s purportedly premiere Italian restaurants no less. Under normal circumstances (aka – back in North America) these hiccups would’ve barely registered but here in Tokyo where chefs walk you out the front door to your cab and bar staff race each other to pull away your stool when you get up, it’s hard not to notice.

Ivon and I had dinner at Ristorante Honda, a place recommended by several reputable dining sources (You know who you are). When we sat down we were presented with the menu listing a couple of table d’hote choices on one side and the various course offerings on the left. We were instructed to choose a table d’hote, and then select from the various appetizers, pasta, and mains. As I started to peruse the selection, I noticed he was still standing there, pen poised, awaiting our picks. I suggested he give us a few minutes to decide, and ordered a campari (the closest you can get to the taste of poison without actually drinking poison) while Ivon ordered a bottle of sparkling water for the table. Moments later, the waiter returned to take our order, set down our water glasses, poured Ivon some sparkling water, and walked off. I had to reel him back to get him to fill my water glass as well.

The arrival of our dishes was somewhat erratic. One plate would be set down and then, several minutes later, another would arrive. We waited for our main to arrive while the couple beside us were served two successive courses, including THEIR main.

We ordered coffee and were, again, in for a bit of a wait. When the dessert arrived, Ivon requested his coffee. Sure, sure. We waited a while, then went ahead and started eating. Our coffees arrived just as we finished up.

The food was very good. Just not quite sure what to make of the service.

After dinner, we made like your average Tokyoite and caught the metro back to our home turf. On the way, I spotted this poster for what looks to be an awesome movie...

We walked off dinner with a stroll through Ginza and, eventually, coincidentally (?), found ourselves here...

We closed the place down. Another Tokyo first. We staggered back to the hotel, exhausted, and I crawled into bed – and spent the next two hours lying awake admiring the awesome (albeit ill-fitting) present Kanae had given me -

I knew I shouldn’t have had that damn coffee!

Fortunately, I’m on vacation. And I happen to be vacationing with someone who matched me (more to the point, I matched him) drink for drink on the previous night. So it wasn’t until 11:00 p.m. that we touched base – and not until after 1:00 p.m. that we actually headed out for lunch. On this day, it was Ivon’s call...

After lunch, Ivon headed right back to the hotel for some more R&R while I took in the sights and sounds of Ginza...

Which brings me to one of the things that continues to baffle me about the Japanese: their obsession with standing in lines. On my last visit, a Japanese friend pointed out two Starbucks within a block of each other. “Both are exactly the same,”she told me, “except that one always has line-ups and one is always empty.” Seems that nothing says quality like a good long queue. On this trip, another Japanese friend confirmed this seemingly deep-rooted obsession. On weekends, the cafe she works at sees line-ups that necessitate waits of up to an hour. And, on several occasions, she’s had customers step into the shop after a lengthy wait and ask: “What is this shop? What did I just wait an hour in line for?” In some cases, just the line-up is enough to convince them to line-up!

Equally odd is the Japanese predilection for snapping photos of Christmas trees.

Hell, the Christmas tree in our hotel see so much action, it’s impossible to walk through the lobby without ruining a half-dozen snapshots -

Still, there are certian Japanese passions I do share...

Only two more days left! Tomorrow, Ivon wants to go to the zoo! For real!

[Jumper_One]

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December 20, 2010

Videos: Snow monkeys, kangaroos

Photos: Ginza at night, lunch, the streets of Ueno, the zoo, Ivon Bartok


With our 100 000 yen dinners behind us, Ivon and I decided to shift focus to more casual eats, simpler drinks, and putting a little something aside for retirement. And so, rather than have the concierge recommend something for us (the last “casual” lunch spot they suggested ended up costing us about $150 a head), we elected to go for a stroll and just go where the mood took us. On this night, it too us to Bangkok Kitchen, a bustling Thai restaurant on a restaurant row just under the train tracks near The Imperial. There, we enjoyed some pretty good pork skewers and fried fish, a less sweet version of pad thai than the one I’m used to back home (according to Ivon who worked at a restaurant back in the day, many North American places prepare pad thai with ketchup), and a very good green chicken curry with sticky rice. Then, for dessert, we had two Moscow Mules and a couple of Kishi-san’s special cocktails at Star Bar.

We wandered about the streets of Ginza for a while and, as usual, were approached by guys trying to hustle us into some of the local clubs.

“For five thousand yen each, you can go to the club,”one guy explained on our first night. “In the club, a girl will talk to you.”

Naturally, the prospect of a real live girl talking to me for only fifty bucks sounded great, but in the end I figured I’d put the money to more practical use. Like booze and macarons. Anyway, we ended up declining – as we always do – and the hustlers always react – like they always do. No, they don’t continue their hard sell. Nor do they curse you. Nor do they quickly move on to their next mark. That would be so un-Japanese. Instead, the moment you say not thanks, they immediately apologize and bow as though they’ve done something to offend, continuing to to mutter whispered apologies as you walk off into the night. Half the time I feel so bad, I want to run back and tell them all is forgiven and, hell, you only live once so why not spend five thousand yen on some girl to feign interest in what you have to say.

The next morning, we had a sushi lunch near the hotel (the same chain restaurant we’d enjoyed previously but far inferior to their Tsukiji Market counterpart), then headed off to Ivon’s chosen “Destination of the Day”: the Ueno Zoo!

Eventually, we reached the zoo. Ivon could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing that giant panda. We bought our tickets and – uh…oh...

To his credit, Ivon did not burst into tears on the spot and, instead, shifted all that excitement to the prospect of seeing the polar bears, a noble and no less worthy substitute.

Anyway, we walked around. Saw a bunch of animals. Snapped a bunch of pictures. I found it all rather depressing. Until I saw the snow monkeys!

After which I got all bummed out again. Not even a bunch of belligerent kangaroos could cheer me up.

Ultimately, our outing proved equally depressing for Ivon once he discovered that there would be no polar bears either. Nevertheless, my buddy made do -

Tomorrow = our worst meal yet!

Followed by one even worse!