Yamazakipan Kabocha Danish

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, which is the loveliest squash of all? Is it American pumpkin, as it is rolled into pies, danishes, donuts and anything which wears cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger like a scrawny high fashion model wears a ridiculous outfit? Is it Japanese pumpkin, which pairs so well with soy sauce and mirin and studs any dish it appears in with creamy delight? The truth is that both are the ugly stepsisters to the Cinderella that is butternut squash, but nobody makes that comparison. Recently, I paid around $3.50 (280 yen) for half of a tiny butternut in a Japanese market and found that it is sweeter and has more depth than either of these traditional squash rivals. Butternut gets the glass slipper, but it's too expensive to squire to the ball on a frequent basis. I guess I'll be doing the waltz with the green-skinned stepsister.

That is not to say that Japanese pumpkin isn't worthwhile, but rather that if we're going to play a game of my gourd is better than your gourd, then we should include a full range of contestants, not just the big orange jack-o-lantern fodder and rough-skinned Japanese greenies. I love Japanese pumpkin, but in order for it to shine in a food though, there has to be enough of it to actually taste. This is a fact that seemed a bit lost on the folks at Yamazakipan. 

Unfortunately, before I purchased this packaged baked item at Lawson 100 for, obviously 100 yen ($1.23), I didn't know that "danish" meant "bread" and that a small smattering was all that was required to qualify this as "kabocha". I was captivated by the notion of enjoying those black sesame seeds with Japanese pumpkin and hoped for the best. I'm dumb like that. The bread in this "danish" is best described as "nouveau hotdog bun". The filling, when you happen upon more than a tiny, tiny portion, tastes fine, though rather thin on the pumpkin side. I get the feeling it is mixed with liberal amounts of water or some other filler to stretch it further.

Yamazakipan makes some pretty nice packaged treats, especially things with whipped cream filling, but this was a huge disappointment. I didn't exactly want baker-quality pastry, but I also hoped for something more than this. I could have lived with the lackluster bread if there had been more filling, or lived with less filling if the bread had been good, but Yamazakipan didn't give me anything at all to work with.

Random Picture #87

Yeah, my nails are a mess. I do a lot of dishes by hand. Give me a break.

I've purchased taiyaki, fish-shaped cakes filled with beans, custard, or other things, before, but only in a "specialty" form using tapioca flour. I've also had a "cousin" of theirs, imagawayaki in frozen form. Despite walking past a traditional taiyaki shop several times a week, I have never purchased a fresh one for immediate consumption. A few weeks ago, my husband headed off for America for a week and I was left all alone so I decided to comfort myself and finally take the plunge. I picked up this warm, fresh number at Koenji station for 130 yen ($1.60). It's on the smallish side, but was a great size for a snack. The outside was a little crispy and extremely bland. It was more akin to a monaka shell (like a cake cone) than a pancake or waffle (which is what some of the shells are like). The custard inside was warm, very sweet, and had a good vanilla flavor. All in all, it was a delicious combination of varying textures and flavors and delightfully fresh. I'm sorry that I waited so long to get one. If you are in Japan or are coming here, take advantage and get one sooner rather than later.

Co-Up Guarana Zero

Though I'm sure people who don't live in Japan think that there are bizarre food options lurking at the front of every shelf when you live here, that is far from the truth. This is especially the case when you've spent the last 3 years or so going out of your way to sample anything which doesn't contain shrimp (which I dislike with the intensity of a thousand suns and won't review well, and is hardly an esoteric flavor anyway). Occasionally, I'll locate something which is Japanese and uncommon even though it is domestically produced.

In the case of this soft drink, which I found at a shop in Shinjuku which sells products from Hokkaido, this is one of those rare items. I chose this one because it was the only sugar-free version, and I prefer to get my calories from chocolate and salty stuff. This cost 147 yen ($1.81) for a 500 ml. bottle.

I intentionally did not research what "Guarana" was before I sampled this. I didn't want objective facts to interfere with my subjective taste perceptions. If I expected to taste something, it might increase the chances that I'd detect it. I first gave it the deep inhalation test. That doesn't mean I snorted it, but I did come close to doing so in an attempt to pick up all of nuances of its bouquet. At first, I thought I detected a grape-like fruity aroma, then something medicinal. A final sniff reminded me of bubble gum. That was the impression that stuck with me as I prepared to dive in and take a sip.

A fruity bubblegum flavor definitely came through on the first sip. It had a strong shot of the flavor I recall from penny candy versions of said wads of gum, which is probably some particular chemical. That was followed by a strong chemical flavor and then what seemed like a hit of, shockingly, root beer. The sense of root beer was only at the very end. I'll give this points for at least having flavor depth, if nothing else.

After a proper tasting, I looked up guarana and discovered that it is a plant from the maple family which is known for its fruit and the fact that said fruit has twice the caffeine of coffee. Here is where we get to the appeal of such a beverage to the Japanese market, which excels in offering strong legal stimulants to keep businessmen awake all night as they labor away in their offices. It has always been rather ironic to me that a culture which is so anti-drug so heartily embraces certain drugs, alcohol and caffeine, with what appears to be complete ignorance of the fact that these are stimulants and depressants and not merely foodstuffs.

Guarana soft drinks are, apparently, quite popular in Brazil and out-sell more internationally better known cola beverages. It is considered a health tonic there, which is a little bizarre. It mainly seems to have the same effects as any caffeinated product including increased fat metabolism and cognitive boosts.   In my research, it did indicate that it has a fruity taste when mixed with sugar.

This is an energy drink by any other name. In the shop where I purchased this, there were a lot of varieties of guarana drinks made by various manufacturers, but I never see them stocked in regular stores. Since I don't drink energy drinks, it's very likely that some common ones, sold in little brown bottles in refrigerator sections of various stores, contain guarana extract and that is well-known among members of the peppy drinkers club. This is marketed in Japan as a health tonic and claims to fight obesity, arteriosclerosis, and improve stamina. Chances are, however, that what it'll help fight is sleep.

This was okay in terms of taste, but nothing I could see craving. I would only buy it again if I were severely sleep deprived and wanted to have something more potent than coffee or tea. The chances of that being the case are pretty much zero, but I wouldn't write this off as something I'd never have again.

Dars Biscuit

Living in a foreign culture, and trying hard not to be too ethnocentric makes me frame my gustatory experiences differently than I did back home. One of the things which always rubs me the wrong way is the elevation of one culture's choices over another. In particular, the idea that Japanese cuisine is carefully designed for health concerns. A culture doesn't decide to eat fish, seaweed, soy, and rice because of nutrition. They do it because that is what is available in their particular geography. The food culture grows around the available resources, not concerns about nutritional purity. Tastes fall into line with that culture's readily available options because humans like what is familiar.

Traditional Japanese cuisine is a combination of the elements which were easily attainable within the island's borders, but since the world has become a smaller place and food culture is widely shared, new options are constantly being injected into the Japanese diet. Developed countries have the extreme luxury of being able to mix and match a plethora of food options. I doubt that things like cookie chocolates would exist in Japan if it weren't for the influence of European baking culture. Of course, chocolate wouldn't be here without the Americas. Thinking about it this way, it doesn't seem like this product is very "Japanese" at all.

When it comes to chocolate, confectioners can't seem to decide if they want to sell esoteric combinations (like chili, sembei, etc.) or stick with traditional pairings that are known winners. With Dars, which is better known for its fatty, creamy chocolate, Morinaga decided to "mix it up" a bit by adding something textural. I was, frankly, a bit dubious of this entry in a long line of cookie chocolates, particularly considering my favorite way to consume Dars is to put it in my mouth and allow the creamy chocolate to melt on my tongue. That's definitely not going to be the case with this one. You can find these pretty much everywhere that carries Dars (convenience stores, markets) for the time being. It's usually 100 yen ($1.25) for a box of 12 small pieces.

Each little square is the same size as a usual bit of Dars. It has a volume not too dissimilar to a Hershey's Kiss and a calorie count which matches (19 calories per piece). There is a generous amount of crunchy cookie, but not so much that it isn't nicely held together by the chocolate. The scent is nice, but not intense. You can tell just from the smell alone that this isn't going to be anything near dark chocolate. The chocolate is sweet and milky, but not cloying. The cookie bits are crispy, buttery and rich and help cut through any overpowering sense with the sweet candy.

Most of the time, the cookies don't play much of a major roll in the flavor of the chocolate. They are just studs of texture which undercut the intensity of the chocolate. In this offering of Dars, I think they actually contribute 50% to the overall enjoyment of the candy. That being said, these are not for people who like less sweet candy or intense chocolate. This is good for those who like things milky.

Random Picture #86

Click to see a larger image with more detail.

Halloween quietly passed Japan by, which is reasonable considering they don't actually celebrate it. However, they do know how to take advantage of a marketing opportunity and every year I see more and more items designed to get the Japanese into the Halloween spirit. Well, that's not exactly true. I don't think they know what the spirit of All Hallow's Eve is and I'm pretty sure that, if they did, it wouldn't really suit Japanese sensibilities. I'm not only talking about how knocking on strangers' doors for free candy would rub them the wrong way, but the "tricks" aspect would be viewed as troubling others in a thoroughly unacceptable manner. Besides, in a country that goes for the toilet paper in a crisis, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't feel great about wasting it TP'ing.

Among the plethora of cute Halloween-themed treats, I was especially enchanted by these pumpkin-shaped manju (traditional Japanese sweets). I even considered buying them, but three are more than I can eat in a short time and this is the type of thing best consumed fresh.