The May Dispatch: Art, cocktails, and green tea from scratch

A busy month of my travels around Japan and cozy times in Izu

Dear readers, I wish you could join me right now on the local train on my way down to the Izu Peninsula at lunchtime on a sunny, blue-sky day. The gently rumbling pace of this ride feels leisurely, almost nap-worthy, like something followers of Quiet Calling might appreciate. After a quick bullet train ride from Tokyo where I caught a glimpse of Mount Fuji – its snowy slopes have mostly melted, leaving only a few streaks of white – the speed of the local Izu-Kyuko line is comparatively slow and the calm ocean views are a sight for city-strained eyes.

Nothing to see here but expanses of deep blue water, thick bamboo forests, hillsides of Showa-era homes, deep green valleys, and islands on the horizon. Tourists are out in full force today. The lucky ones snagged window seats adorned in bubble gum colors and a cute, fish-patterned upholstery that celebrates kinmedai, golden-eyed snapper, a local delicacy with bright crimson skin and a mild flavor.

Fresh kinmedai are vivid red. Cooked, they fade to pink. Artist Paul Klee's "Around the Fish" caught my eye at MoMA when I lived in NYC -- maybe it was foreshadowing?

Looking back at an eventful May bookended by two full moons, it’s no wonder that the month flew by – it was basically a roller coaster swooping between two energy peaks. Japan kicked off the month with mild weather for Golden Week – a series of consecutive national holidays that’s one of the year’s busiest travel times – and ended it with a preview of the rain, heat, and humidity ahead. Oh, and there’s a typhoon headed in this direction as I type this . . .

If you’re not based in Japan, you might not know that the fiscal year here starts in April. That means the “year-end” crunch in the corporate world is a springtime thing, followed immediately by more busyness in the name of the “new year”. I juggled my way steadily through spring and didn’t stop to plan a proper Golden week holiday, even though I desperately needed a break and could feel the stress accumulating. Writing newsletters for you was a form of meditation, and maybe even therapy.

The lack of a solid Golden Week plan was actually perfect. So the lesson there is just to let go and enjoy the ride without trying to perfectly engineer every moment of a day off. Lazyness is underrated.

Weather-wise, it’s some of the best times of the year in this part of Japan — no heat needed, no A/C needed, and a glorious breeze coming through the screen windows. I was grateful for open-ended days with no plans other than to sleep in, sip coffee while staring at my garden, take walks to the coast, daydream, read magazines, and cook elaborate meals for fun. And for the first time, I decided to try making my own green tea from the mature tea bush in my Izu garden.

From a basket of fresh tea leaves, I ended up with enough dried green tea for a few pots. For my first try, it was surprisingly decent and almost too easy to make. Briefly steaming the leaves after washing them makes them plump. Rolling them in a towel and then with your hands helps release the natural flavors. I spread them on a baking sheet to gently dry them in the oven at a low temperature. This part took time and patience but was worth it for a small batch of tea that I can call my own. I heated the water to 80° C for a gentle brew that keeps the taste from getting too harsh and astringent.

Some neighborhood friends from Tokyo also recently bought a place in nearby Izu-Kogen, so it was nice to catch up with them over a home-cooked meal. Turns out they were going from Izu to Kyoto immediately after Golden Week to see the Kyotographie photo exhibition — that is, after the holiday crowds had subsided — and it seemed like a brilliant timing to book tickets and join them. I’m so glad I went, even if I could have used more time to see it all.

Daido Moriyama’s retrospective sprawled across several galleries at Kyocera Museum.

To me, Kyoto is one of those places that always leaves me wishing I had just a little more time to linger.

But no complaints about rare sunny days that weren’t scorching (yet), good food in every direction, and even some special cocktails at the newly opened location of Bar Trench, a old old favorite in Tokyo that just spawned a Kyoto outpost inside a historic building where a proper renovation revealed striking old beams and abundant ceiling space. It had a dark, moody atmosphere, warm hospitality, and elaborate, creative drinks as one would expect from one of Japan’s go-to names in cocktail culture. Back when I lived in Brooklyn, craft cocktail bars were cropping up on almost every block, but in Japan, they’re more of a destination. As such, this one was worth celebrating.

Craft cocktails take the spotlight at Bar Trench.

The rest of the month, I was either back in Tokyo or exploring the other side of the country. Work took me to rural Toyama right at the start of rice growing season when the paddies were full of water and beautiful little green rice shoots. And at the very end of the month I managed to squeeze in a short trip to Yamanaka Onsen in Ishikawa prefecture, a tiny mountain town full of marvelous crafts and history. (More about this later in a separate post.)

I’ll leave you with this photo of the best Shinkansen obento I ate in recent memory — not only because it was tasty and visually appealing, but because it felt like a reward at the end of a busy day. Rushing through Toyama station to catch my train, I didn’t have any luck finding decent to-go food because everything was sold out on a Friday night. (In fact, I was lucky to even book a same-day reservation on the train back home.) With a long ride ahead, I was worried I’d have to skip a meal. But in the nick of time, I grabbed the last lunch box at the shop on the Hokuriku Shinkansen platform. In Japan, it’s quite common to see one lone item on otherwise empty shelves — nobody will take the last one.

Well, almost nobody. I paid for the pretty pink cloth-wrapped box and a tiny bottle of sake just moments before the train arrived and didn’t waste a moment to dig in once I found my seat. I quickly settled into a sort of trance, bite by bite, sip by sip, thinking about all the steps that must have gone into creating that meal. It might’ve been convenience food, but it was still a remarkable feast.

So many flavors, colors, and shapes inside this double-decker obento from Toyama. The reverse side of the packaging revealed a charming illustrated map.

Thanks for coming along with me on this ride! I’d love to hear what you thought of this newsletter and what you’d like to see in next month’s Dispatch.