It used to take three months to sail the Pacific from the Americas to Japan. Ninety lice- and flea-ridden sweaty days aboard a leaky ship, scurvy sweeping the crew like a curse from a vengeful undergod, men dying like the flies that swarmed their living selves during the inhumanly long trek. "Many travails," writes Willem Jantszoon, an early Dutch explorer in his ship, the Duyfken. "Moft of the men afflicted with bloody flux or fever. All for the entire purpofef of sampling the miraculous Kobe beef."
Well might Jantszoon have complained. I did the same trip in 72 hours. There were less fleas, but okay, well, no buts, there was no scurvy either. Okay, well, but, I'm about three seconds younger than I would have been had I not made the trip. This is not because of the odd time-lapse phenomenon due to speed travelled minus distance spanned, but because of the restorative powers of sake consumed proportional to time spent horizontal.
So in the persona of my wonderfully relaxed younger incarnation, I did indeed go in search of the much-fabled Kobe beef. This proved a mightily difficult task. Much in the spirit of how most Japanese people have absolutely no idea whether it's more proper to drink sake cold or hot, they proved just as ignorant about what constituted Kobe beef. Really, not a shred of a clue.
From my exhaustive research conducted from the privacy of my laptop, I deduced that the proper item had to be extremely well-marbled. If you've lost me at this point, bear in mind the teachings of acolyte Lao-Tzu: "He who waits before asking for five minutes is with learning imbued; he who waits in line for a Tim Hortons donut is crazy."
But I found out soon enough what the meaning of "well-marbled" is. It is, people, more white than red. Yep, the samples I viewed on display at "Nara Family," the local department store in Nara, were actually more fatty than meaty, if you can visualize that. Riddled with fat. They weren't called Kobe beef—that is a strictly Western appellation—but they were the most heavily marbled pieces of meat I have ever seen.
"So what the hell did it taste like?" you ask, breathlessly. Well, I'll tell you, as soon as I travel to California next month, which is where they came from. Yes, Kobe beef is all grown in the States and re-imported back to Japan.
And I promife thif time I will take photof.
hello just wanted to say hi and was surprised to read that Kobe beef actually comes from California! i enjoy reading your blog (and the montrealfood.com website) a lot, your posts are v witty and you have a great sense of humor (i loved the lao zi saying re tim hortons!); they are also great resources for non-native speakers/ESL teachers - to practise reading comprehension skills!
ReplyDeleteon Vancouver airport in the previous post - it's been quite a while i havent been but isnt it already better than say...emm...Heathrow?
Ingrid,
ReplyDeleteVery weird . . . when I set up the whole blog thing I was kind of looking at what other people were doing and yours was literally the first one I began to read (and quickly became addicted to!) I'm going to have to return the compliment and say yours is the best! I especially love the photos.
Sorry, Lao didn't really say all that . . . it was my poor translation! It may not have been Tim Hortons that he meant . . . ^-^
Considering I go through YVR four or five times a year, you'd think I'd find something to like about it. But I have only fond memories of Heathrow, even though the last time I saw it was in 1984 or so. What I remember is the amazing medley of languages I heard.
Yes, believe it or not, I did research Kobe beef and found out that indeed, a lot of it comes from the States. Go here to see an interesting article about it. And yes, I will go to California next month and get some for a taste-test extravaganza!
Cheers,
Nick