Kinako Ohagi Kit-Kat

When you’re blogging about Japan, some days you have to wonder if it’s really worth it. You’d dreamed of festivals and amazing sushi on a conveyor belt, but in the end it turns out you’re just some guy who keeps buying weird Japanese Kit-Kats.

Bring on the newest one! Kinako Ohagi Kit-Kat!

Personally, I love kinako. It goes perfectly with kuromitsu (black honey) and icecream. My enthusiasm was only slightly dampened to hear that kinako is translated as ‘soybean flour’. Seriously? That’s all it is? There must be something more to it, because there’s magic in that powder. Ohagi are rice balls that are similar to mochi, but less chewy. Oh, and the ‘filling’ is on the outside.

A helpful diagram on the Kit-Kat packet reveals that there are mochi rice puffs and kinako in the chocolate, with azuki powder and kinako cream between the wafers. Unsurprisingly, I consider this the best of the novelty Kit-Kats.

Royal Milk Tea Kit-Kat

Royal Milk Tea is what Japanese people assure me I drank in England. It’s a distinctive flavour of tea that is probably made by boiling the milk and water together and adding lots of sugar, although no one seems really sure.

In any case, that’s why the packaging has a border featuring The Queen’s Guard, also known as the soldiers who guard Buckingham Palace, plus Scottish Tartan. Inside, the fingers are wrapped in royal blue packaging, which was unexpected.

This Kit-Kat is made up of white chocolate that tastes of sugary milk with the aftertaste of black tea. So it does indeed taste like Royal Milk Tea. Why I keep buying Kit-Kats based on flavours I don’t like is beyond me.

It’s considered to be a gaijin rite of passage to visit a maid cafe, equivalent to climbing Mount Fuji or visiting Kinkakuji in Kyoto. As I had yet to do so, I decided to visit one while on a trip to Akihabara.

The area around Akihabara was crowded that Saturday. Close to Halloween, there were women standing on street corners in outfits that paired maid dresses with witches’ hats. Most clothing was colourful variations on a traditional French maid uniform, but there were a few schoolgirls. When someone wears a uniform supposed to telegraph that they can’t be any older than eighteen in order to entice me to have a cup of coffee with them…? I am squicked. Please, no more schoolgirls.

The women handing out leaflets for Mononopu (もののぷ) were wearing purple kimono/maid uniform hybrids. If that wasn’t perfect enough, they were equipped with plastic pink samurai armour. The leaflet described the place as a Sengoku era maid cafe and, suddenly, my choice wasn’t so difficult.

Mononopu opened in early May of this year (2009, my time-travelling friends!) and can be found down a deserted-looking alleyway behind an AM-PM convenience store on Chuo Doori. I stood staring at the sign outside for a while before a maid ushered me into the entrance hall and towards the lift. She was accompanying another man and it seems quite common for maids to lead you to their workplace if you have trouble with directions.

I was surprised how normal and cafe-like the interior was. Sure, there were flags depicting the family emblems of different generals of the warring states period. Yes, the decor was black, purple and pink. But the open-plan atmosphere suggested it could have been any cheaper cafe.

They asked me if I would mind sitting at the bar as all other seats were taken and I agreed to this. This might have been a mistake, as I believe it carried an extra charge even though it was a choice between sitting there or leaving. They handed me a menu which included machine-translated English (no human translates ‘Saturday’ as ‘soil’) and one of the maids spoke a little English.

I decided to order a coffee and chose the one that had ‘oekaki’ written next to it. When it arrived, the maid asked what I would like her to draw. This baffled me. Surely this was some kind of combined psychology and personality test. Would I be judged on my answer? I said she could choose and she asked me what animals I liked. See the photograph for the result. Thank goodness she gave me a suggestion of what was acceptable, or else I would have asked for a clown eating a banana.

Finally, she blessed it with a purple plastic samurai sword, demanding that it be delicious or else and I was pretty much left to my own devices. Overall, it was definitely an experience worth having once, albeit an expensive one. In total, it was 1000 yen to be seated, plus 700 yen for the coffee.

Azuki Pepsi

I love dumb novelty snacks, so I bought the new Pepsi Azuki on the day it was released. It’s yet another flavour found only in Japan that has been hyped up on otaku blogs for quite some time. It sat for weeks in my fridge when I remembered that I hate soda and I’m not too fond of azuki either.

Eventually, something had to give. Got the lid off, sniffed the mixture like a wine connoisseur. It smelled like a mixture of medicine, candy and almost completely unlike beans. The taste itself was almost imperceptibly different from regular Pepsi, although you shouldn’t take my word for that since I seldom drink it unless it’s laced with vodka. I’m guessing here.

Next up was the new Ginger Ale Kit-Kat. The wafers are covered in ginger ale-flavoured white chocolate, with a bit of a fizz to it. Shockingly, it tastes exactly how I imagined it should taste like (unlike the recent Vegetable Kit-Kat). And you can’t really say much fairer than that.

Japanese Kit-Kat

I was sorting through photos of my Mount Fuji climb. One billion photographs (actual number) and my task was to decide which one most effectively depicted the morning sunlight over the torii arch. Then I thought, screw it, why not just blog the latest Japanese Kit-Kat?

The newest flavour is Juujitsu Yasai, which means ‘full of vegetables’ and are made in collaboration with Ito En vegetable juice drinks. The coating is apple and carrot chocolate, while the wafers inside are layered between juujitsu yasai cream.

I was a bit disappointed with it myself, since I was expecting something unspeakably vile to blog about. It tastes mostly of apples, with a softer undertone that may or may not be carrots. Not bad, all things considered.

 

Chocolate gyoza

Chocolate Gyoza Recipe

Gyouza is the Japanese transliteration of the original Chinese name, jiaozi. They usually consist of a ground meat/vegetable mix wrapped up in pasta-like dough.
…But why not make them with chocolate?

 

Ingredients
Chocolate
Almond powder
Gyouza skins (If you’re in Japan, you can find these in the meat section. Outside Japan, check your local specialty supermarket.)

 

Method
(1) Melt the chocolate by putting it in a small bowl and then putting that into a larger bowl of hot water. If you ever made cornflake cakes as a kid, you should know how to do this.
(2) Mix in almond powder to thicken it.
(3) Put the mixture into the skins and seal them using a very small amount of water.
(4) Fry them using a small amount of oil over a low heat.

 

Chocolate Gyouza (Photo)

 
 

チョコギョウザレシピ

 

材料
チョコレート
アーモンド プードル
餃子の皮

 

やり方
① お湯を沸かす。その中に、ボールを入れて、チョコレートを溶かす。
② アーモンド プードルをチョコレートと混ぜる。
③ 餃子の皮で、②を包む。
④ それをフライパンで餃子と同じように焼く。

 

チョコレート餃子 (写真)

 

fugu

When studying second language acquisition, linguists often research how the native language (also known as L1) interferes with the target language (L2). For examples, a native English speaker who is learning Japanese might say “gomen nasai” when hearing that their friend has received bad news. They might have meant to say, “I’m sorry (to hear that),” but they are actually admitting fault for whatever happened. Likewise, a native Japanese speaker learning English might ask, “Are you busy?” and add more work when an English speaker replies that they are not. Yes, I’ve been there.

These linguists rarely look at how the L2 interferes with the L1. I mean, seriously, when’s that going to happen?

If you’re learning Japanese, all the freaking time.

I once overheard two English-speaking guys talking on the train. One said to the other, “I’m going into work at a shougakkou on Mokuyoubi.”

Wait, what? I can understand using shougakkou in place of ‘elementary school’ within Japan. After all, I attended a ‘primary school’ like many other Brits and so both expressions are equally unusual to me. I’ll happily tell you that I’m thinking of upgrading my ordinary keitai for an iPhone. Yeah, it makes sense to select the word you have in common when two or more dialects collide.

I also understand using a Japanese loan word for something so culturally specific that there’s no comparable word for it. Would you prefer to eat “vinegar rice, often served with raw fish” or sushi? I’m even a fan of the word kawaii. Sure, you can translate it as ‘cute’, but we all know there’s something more going on there.

So why Mokuyoubi when you mean ‘Thursday’? Is this really unique to those of us learning Japanese? Maybe those linguists should investigate.

Do you use Japanese words when you’re talking/writing in English? Which ones? If you’d like to read more about Japanese check out my article on the number eight and Japanese wordplay.

A scone at Paris Coffee

Paris Coffee is a cafe just off Dougenzaka in Shibuya, not far from the Hachiko crossing. It’s fairly cheap, considering it serves fancy-looking coffee from actual, named countries. A coffee will set you back around 450 to 550 yen, while a scone is less than 300 yen. A good choice suitable for those who appreciate a pleasant atmosphere, but can’t be bothered to make reservations for a butler cafe.

 

 

The above photo doesn’t show my drink, by the way. I got a “Rose Marry” and when it arrived, cream rose swirl on the top, pink brandy glistening on the petals, HUNDREDS-AND-THOUSANDS, I got excited and… *splodge* The drink suddenly wasn’t so photogenic. That sound effect was my hand squashing the rose just as I caught the glass when it fell off the coaster, by the way. Pervert.

You can find a map in English here. There are photos of the shop front below.

 

Monster Hunter 3 snack

For gamers and those who grab the most brightly-coloured packaging in the convenience store, comes a new snack from Japan. It’s clearly designed for people who have an attention span that can’t handle anything longer than a Twitter post.

Inside are lemon-shaped puffs which apparently apparently taste of kongari niku or “well done meat”, an item found in the game itself. Personally, I couldn’t really identify any specific taste beyond, “Mmm, these are pretty good. Now let’s go play with my Pokemans.”

…Which is the problem of advertising to those of us with miniscule attention spans.