"tokyo" news and stories

When it comes to complementing Japanese cuisine (say, wasabi-spiked sushi or some squiggly ramen), the average drinker's gut instinct is to sip sake. But to always reach for fermented rice would deny yourself the pleasures of some of Japan's finest beers.

We're hardly extolling the virtues of Asahi or Sapporo, thirst-quenching beers just like the typical American lager. And sure, Japan's Hitachino Nest White is a superb witbier spiced with coriander and orange peel, but that's a Belgian-style ale. Where's the beer that evokes the Land of the Rising Sun? For that, we look toward Coedo Brewery, situated a shade north of Tokyo.

Last night, we entered a world of pain on "The Next Iron Chef" -- quite literally. With only three chefs left in the competition, we no longer had to rely on the show's Ritalin-addicted cameramen or the barked commands of stoic "Chairman" Marc Dacascos to make us anxious. The misty, unforgiving environs of Tokyo seemed to be doing a fine job all on their own.

Never mind Jose Garces being shouted at by the fishmongers at the legendary Tsukiji fish market, or the now openly evil Jehangir Mehta announcing, "I'm not bothered by bringing other people down to make myself look better." We knew there was pain in the air last night from the very first, utterly geeky "Reservoir Dogs"-style shot of the three chefs walking down a rain-slicked street to get their latest assignment from Dacascos and host Alton Brown. We wondered: Why are they walking so slowly? And why is Seamus Mullen limping along in what appears to be utter agony?

Leave it to "TNIC" editors to have downplayed Mullen's ongoing struggle with rheumatoid arthritis until this late in the game. Whether or not the affliction had hindered him in previous episodes, we're not sure, but last night, attempting to run around both the market and the kitchen for several hours on end, it was clear he was suffering. Add to that the indignity of Mehta leaving the forever-temperamental ice-cream machine (when will you guys throw in the towel on that thing?!) in strategic shambles, and the damning comment of "Have you ever cooked rice?" from guest judge Dr. Hattori, and Mullen was having one of those Very Bad Days we all dread.

But more about that later. The challenge was to cook a five-course kaiseki -- a very formal meal composed of local, seasonal ingredients -- that reflected their own "integrity" as a chef. For Mehta this meant buying half of the food in the market and littering his serving trays with edible flowers ("I'm a happy person! I like beauty!"). Mullen may have dubbed it all "smoke and mirrors," but Mehta still managed to produce a fresh clam salad with chili flower that was a standout of the evening.

The point of fast-food franchises is instant familiarity--every outlet serving the same food under the same sign in essentially the same building. But McDonald's has been messing with that paradigm, opening new restaurants that are hard to recognize as the home of Ronald and the Big Mac. Viva McDonald's recently opened on the Las Vegas Strip, tearing down a 25-year-old golden arches to rebuild a slick new restaurant. The arch is still there--at least one, anyway--stretched as a marquee above a row of 20-foot wide video screens. Inside, there's something of the Quonset hut design of a Chipotle, along with even more screens, all broadcasting McDonald's own in-house TV channel. You can even get a latte and use wi-fi!

Not enough change for you? How about the McDonald's with no branding at all, not even the name. In Tokyo, the fast-food megalith has opened several small restaurants named, simply, Quarter Pounder. There's not an arch in sight--the black-and-red decor looks more like a bar or nightclub and even the wrappers are redesigned, streamlined and logo-free. However, don't get your hopes up about a chic new shame-based No-I-Am-Not-a-McDonald's: The stores are open as part of a promotion for the quarter pounder, which was not previously available in Japan.

Last week I wrote about Rameniac, a guide to all things ramen so detailed and descriptive that it left me jonesing for a hot bowl of the stuff. As promised, I did indeed trek from my native Queens to Manhattan's East Village that same afternoon to satisfy my urge.

Rather than head to one of the neighborhood's longstanding ramenyas, I decided to try out Ramen Setagaya, a new spot that opened in mid-June amid much fanfare and accompanying long lines. Part of the reason for all the buzz surrounding Setagaya's opening lies in the fact that it's the first U.S. restaurant of a popular Tokyo chain. And a large part lies in the fact that they make one kickass bowl of soup.

Now that summer, with all its attendant heat and humidity, is in full swing in New York City, I often find myself indulging in foods that I like to refer to as edible A.C. This includes everything from such main dishes as cold soba noodles and Korean naeng myun to desserts, like Taiwanese shaved ice, various types of psychedelic colored Indonesian ices and the ubiquitous Italian ice.

I admit some sheepishly that I've never cooled down with kakigori, or Japan's contribution to the world of sweet shaved ice desserts. And I've certainly never tried Champagne Kakigori mainly because it was only invented just this summer in Tokyo.

Maxim's de Paris, a posh spot in Chuo makes its version of this decidely adult snocone by starting with shaved ice mixed with fruit and herb extracts. Then the bartender tops it off with what I'm hoping for $18 a pop turns out to be a goodly pour of Dom Perignon.

[via Inventor Spot]