Okonomiyaki

Okonomiyaki are savoury Japanese pancakes, and there are probably as many recipes out there as there are people who cook them. Essentially, there are two styles: Osaka style – put all ingredients into the batter and fry them – and Hiroshima style – the ingredients are carefully cooked layer by layer. As I live in Kyoto, I will probably end up with more Osaka style recipes, but in the end, both are delicious anyway!

Okonomiyaki

Okonomiyaki  à laTokumura Sensei
(for 15 pieces)

250 g flour (ideally one half wheat flour and one half okonomiyaki flour)
– 250 ml water
– 3 eggs
– 2 teaspoons of salt
Mix together to a batter with a somewhat liquid consistency.

1/2 cabbage
Cut into pieces of roughly 1×1 cm; omit the hardest part of the stem.

150 g of sliced raw pork (some fat is good, think bacon)
Cut into pieces of roughly 3×3 cm and fry them in olive oil with salt and pepper.

– 150 g of raw shrimp
Wash and clean the shrimp, remove shells, heads, and guts.

Add the cabbage, fried pork and shrimp to the batter and mix thoroughly.
Grease a pan with olive oil and let it get hot- put a ladle full of okonomiyaki mixture into the pan, flatten it a little and fry it like a pancake from both sides until it is done. It takes about 10 minutes for one piece that is 1 cm thick and 10 cm in diameter.
Serve with special okonomiyaki sauce and dried tuna flakes (traditional) and/or mayonnaise and parsley (optional).

Japanese New Year Traditions

In Japan, the New Year is the most important holiday. It is celebrated with efforts the West reserves for Christmas. There are lots of routines, rituals, and traditions surrounding New Year’s in Japan, so I will focus on the two things I did myself this time.

Joya-no-Kane
Like in Austria, where the large bell of the Stephansdom in Vienna rings in the New Year, temple bells play an important role in Japanese New Year’s Eve. In a ceremony called joya-no-kane, Buddhist temples all over the country ring their large bronze bells. It depends on the temple how formally this is done; for example in Kyoto’s Chion-in, one of the most famous spots for the ceremony, the bell is rung exclusively by the monks of the temple, whereas in many smaller temples, even normal people can ring the bell. In any case, the bell is struck 108 times at New Year’s Eve – once for each of man’s earthly desires which, according to Buddhism, cause suffering. Each time the bell is rung, one desire is eliminated from those who listen, so they can start the New Year with a clean slate.

Bell at ShinyodoA Buddhist temple bell is a huge affair, the one in Chion in being 3.3 metres high, 2,7 metres in diameter, and 70 tons heavy. It is rung – or rather, struck – from the outside with a large wood beam, and it takes 17 people to do so. The sound of such a temple bell is very loud and deep, it carries a long way and when you are close enough, it resonates deep within your body. Only when the tone has completely stopped, the bell is struck again – so, the larger the bell, the longer the joya-no-kane will take. The starting time depends on the temple. In Chion-in it is timed so that the 108th strike happens in the New Year. Other temples have different rules. This time, I could year temple bells from around 11 pm to 1:30 am approximately.

Hatsumode
Once the joya-no-kane is over, it is time for your hatsumode, the first shrine visit of the year. People go and make their first prayers, buy new Omamori charms of various types (from general luck charms to getting married and easy delivery), and buy O-mikuji, their “personal” fortunes for the New Year. Those fortunes are either paper strips directly pulled out of a jar, or you draw a piece of wood with a number on it in exchange for the fortune strip. There are both luck and curse fortunes of various degrees, and a neutral one. No matter which one you draw, it is best to leave it at the shrine, tied to a pine tree if possible. A curse will stay at the shrine and wait for your return, and a good luck will multiply for you at the shrine. Especially now this is popular, I have never seen such masses of O-mikuji tied to twigs around shrines…

Checking fortunes at Heian shrineIn Kyoto, the most popular shrines for hatsumode are Yasaka jinja, Heian jingu, and Fushimi-inari Taisha. As you should perform your hatsumode as soon as possible after New Year, these places are packed with people. I have heard that Fushimi-Inari alone drew 2.5 million visitors in the first three days of this New Year…

My New Year? I went with my housemates to Shinyodo temple where we were allowed to ring the temple bell. I did not count, but we must have been cleansing ourselves of desire #35 or somesuch, hopefully something serious. After having some of the hot tea served there by the monks (it was freezing…) we went to Yoshida shrine for our hatsumode. I did not buy a charm, but I prayed for a new job – you’ll never know. Anyway, as fireworks are forbidden in Kyoto, the New Year came very quietly, without making a huge entrance like in the West. I liked it, it very much matches my own style…

Kinkaku-ji

The Golden Pavillion Temple Kinkaku-ji is the most striking of all the famous sights in Kyoto and should be on the very top of your must-see list when coming here. The Golden Pavillion is the main building of a zen temple – officially known as Rokuon-ji, Deer Garden temple –  in Northern Kyoto and it is golden indeed: The two top floors of the three story building which stands in a large lake with several islands are covered in gold leaf on laquer and a golden phoenix crowns the centre of the roof. If you look closely you may notice that each floor is representative of a different architectural style: The ground floor is typical of the Heian period style palace buildings called shinden, the first floor is a guilded version of the bukke style of samurai residences, and the top floor – covered in gold leaf in- and outside – is built in the style of a Chinese zen hall. The pavillion houses Buddha statues and similar relics, but it is not open to the public.Kinkaku-ji closeup

The pavillion and the garden date back to the late 14th century, when the third shogun of the Muramachi period, Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, bought the property from another statesman and built his own villa there. After his death, according to his wishes, the whole estate was turned into a Buddhist temple. The golden pavillion is the only “original” structure left from that period; I use the quotes because the building has burnt down and been restored several times in its history, the last time it was destroyed by arson in 1950 and rebuilt five years later. Below are the old abbot’s quarters, with beautiful screen paintings – but it’s not open to the public either.abbot's quarters

The large garden surrounding Kinkaku-ji is truly original though, and considered an especially fine example of garden design from the Muromachi period. The garden was meant to represent the pure land of Buddha in this world. The pavillion lies in a pond with ten small islands, and on a clear day the impression of the golden building is heightened by its reflection in the water.kinkakuji mirrored in the pond

The one-way path leads you along the pond to the back of the pavillion and from there into the garden, where a number of little springs can be seen and several places where people throw coins for luck. The second floor of the garden on top of the hill contains another little pond called Anmintaku that allegedly never dries up, and the Sekkatei, an Edo-period tea house that has been specifically built to enjoy the view on Kinkaku-ji during the afternoon – the best hours to view it.gardens at kinkaku-ji

Tenno Tanjobi

Today was a national holiday in Japan – the emperor’s 80th birthday. His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Akihito was born on December 23rd, 1933 in Tokyo as the fifth child but first son of emperor Showa (Hirohito). He ascended to the throne on January 7th, 1989, with the official enthronement taking place on November 12, 1990 after 22 months of preparations. His era bears the name Heisei.

I have not noticed anything big going on in Kyoto (I didn’t go downtown though), but tenno tanjobi is one of only two days (the other one is January 2nd) when the general public is allowed to enter the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. You may then even write a greeting to the emperor and as this page states “The Greeting Book will be duly forwarded to its highest destination as the expression of your warm congratulations” there could even be a chance of him reading it! This year, there were three appearances of the emperor and his immediate family planned on a balcony of one of the palace buildings and people go there and wave little Japanese flags to greet the emperor. This year, there were about 24.000 visitors, and as the entrance gates close after only two hours, you can imagine how terribly crowded the plaza must have been on which the people waited for the emperor…

chocolate cakes

 

Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!

Ring

Towards the end of the year, people all over the world like to reminiscence about the year that has passed. Of the Year is an important phrase in this time, and it is added to words like employee, woman, man, person, word, book, movie,… So, let me, without any further ado, present to you the Kanji of the Year 2013: Kanji of the year 2013

It means ring or wheel and is pronounced as rin or wa, depending on the context. The main reason this character was chosen was that this year, Tokyo has won the bid for the Summer Olympic Games in 2020, something the Japanese are extremely proud of.

Interestingly, choosing a Kanji of the Year is not something invented 1000 years ago! The first such event dates back only to 1995, yes, that’s not even 20 years; this ceremony must feel like the baby amongst all the others celebrated in Japan… 😉 However, it is a very nice ceremony sponsored and organised by the Japanese Kanji Proficiency Society, a private organisation that encourages the use and knowledge of Kanji. People are invited to send in their choice for the Kanji of the Year, and the one with the most votes (this year 9,518 out of 170,290 votes) is then announced, that is, written on a large white board, by the head priest of Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto each year on Kanji Day, December 12. writing the kanjiI went there with a friend to see the ceremony, and it was virtually impossible. At 11:30, the best spots were already taken by journalists, and the not so good spots were guarded by a private security company that told people to move on… We finally secured a place on a viewing platform a little further away and waited in the cold until the ceremony began at 2 pm. Once again, everything was over very quickly. The head priest came, and quickly wrote down the kanji with a brush as thick as my arm (see the first photo above). After a short wait so all journalists could take their pictures, the board was brought into the temple where a small ceremony was conducted. Afterwards, the board was taken out again to take more pictures with the head priest and other celebrities (this was the time for me to sneak up and take my close ups) and then, after maybe half an hour, even before all the journalists had left, everything was taken away and cleaned up again. The whole event was broadcast live on TV; there were even two TVs set up at the temple so people could watch the ceremony at least second hand, and my friend, a distinguished but not unapproachable looking foreigner, was interviewed twice and asked for his opinion on the choice.

I enjoyed being there, despite the long wait and my frozen toes afterwards. I’m not sure if I’d want to come again next year as I hate being cold, but having my own photos of the event is certainly a nice thing.

A Geisha’s Journey

A Geisha’s Journey: My Life as a Kyoto Apprentice
Komomo and Naoyuki Ogino

Cover of "A Geisha's Journey"A Japanese teenager living abroad suddenly misses her heritage and identity: What does it mean to be Japanese? On her quest for an answer she discovers the hanamachi, the geisha districts. Enthralled by this fantasy world of beautiful kimono wearing women and ancient customs, she decides to become the most Japanese woman of them all – and enters the hanamachi in Kyoto at age 15 to become a geisha. Given the name Komomo as an apprentice maiko, she starts a demanding training lasting five years to fulfill her dream.

This book tells about those years and gives a glimpse into the intimate details of the hanamachi of Kyoto. Always at Komomo’s side is Naoyuki Ogino, a photographer who is equally fascinated by the flower world and whose striking images of Komomo’s life add an almost magical touch to her story.

Komomo’s story is fascinating, and her change from an insecure teenager to an accomplished Kyoto geiko is obvious in Ogino’s photos. I especially enjoyed learning the little secrets of a geisha’s life. You could probably have guessed that a maiko cannot dress herself alone – but did you know that it takes a man (called the otokoshi) to tie her obi?

Check the book out on amazon.

Needles

I am not sure whether this is a genuinely Japanese thing, or if it is something of the Eastern culture in general, but I have to say, there are all sorts of … interesting religious ceremonies around… Yesterday I went to Horin-ji temple in the Arashiyama district of Kyoto, where a memorial service for needles was held, needles as in sewing needles. The ritual appears to date back to the Heian era, even today people bring their used or even broken needles to this temple and pray for better sewing skills and a happy family.

The ceremony took place in the main hall of the temple and started – after four women with colorful dresses and beautiful hair ornaments and a number of priests had entered and seated themselves – with a short performance of traditional music. Then, the head priest who was sitting in front of the altar started reading or rather chanting a long incantation or prayer in a loud voice. When he was finished the other priests placed themselves in front of the altar and, also chanting, threw little oval pieces of paper over their shoulders to the people sitting behind them. The paper was about the size of a palm and had an image of the Buddha on one side; apparently it is a charm and the way it is distributed is meant to resemble falling leaves. Anyway, those leaves were readily snatched up by the worshippers, and the dancers also distributed some. Their big performance was shortly afterwards, when they started dancing a very slow traditional dance to traditional music. 4 women dance at the needle ceremonyWhen the dance was over – it started and ended with a bow to the altar – more chants were intonated, but all of a sudden and without warning, permission was given to start the actual needle ceremony: A number of large needles with colorful threads had been prepared as well as blocks of what I first thought was wax (it turned out to be much softer, like jelly, but I have no idea what it really was), and people were invited to take one of the needles and stick them into the blocks while saying their prayers. sticking the needles into the blockThat was the main part of the ceremony, and most of the people left immediately afterwards. They did not hear the final piece of music or saw the women and priests clean up and leave. They also did not notice when two of the dancers returned to do their own needle ceremony. Once again, I found this very strange, but then again, the whole idea of a service for needles is a bit … special, isn’t it?

Geisha

I guess that the top three things associated with Japan are sushi, samurai, and geisha. While sushi is easily available all over the world these days, and samurai are readily identified as men with swords and that extra bit of honour, the world of the geisha is even nowadays a carefully guarded one where not everybody is allowed to enter, lest take part. This, as well as the fact that the hanamachi (geisha districts, literally “flower town”) are operating with ancient rules and traditions, the meaning of which has long been lost to the outside observer, has given rise to a number of misconceptions and misunderstandings even among Japanese.

It starts with the name: geisha means literally “art person”, she is a woman trained in a number of traditional Japanese arts and plays the part of hostess at parties generally visited by men. She is there to entertain the guests with singing, dancing, witty conversation, general attentiveness, and just the right amount of flirtation; in short, she is there to embody that image of the perfect woman every man fantasizes about – the perfect unattainable woman, because she will always go home alone.a geisha is perfect elegance even when putting on her zoriLike in many traditional Japanese arts, the first geisha were men, as women were not allowed to go to parties and mingle with men. In the 18th century however, women began to appear as geisha (how this came to pass is unclear), and they quickly became very popular of course. Geisha were independent and worked for themselves, and the brothels or oiran felt threatened by what they saw as competition. So, the government set up rules what geisha were allowed to wear, and how, where, and when they could entertain. Instead of curbing the business, however, this only fanned the flames, and geisha became hugely popular – in the 1920s, there were about 70.000 geisha all over Japan.

In these old days, girls as young as five or six started working and training at an okiya (geisha house). Not few of them were sold by their poor parents to the okiya and had to work there until they could repay the costs for their training. Nowadays becoming a geisha is a normal, albeit somewhat rare career choice for a girl. They usually enter an okiya at 18 (in Kyoto at 16) and start the demanding training of five years until they – at least the most determined ones of them – give their debut as geisha.

A typical training begins with the application of the girl to the okasan (mother) of an okiya. If she is accepted, the okasan will pay for her training and also act as her manager, and the girl will move into the okiya as a shikomi, essentially a maid helping around the house. She will now try to find a mentor among the geisha in the okiya, and once she has been accepted by her onesan (older sister), the so called misedashi ceremony will turn her into a maiko, an apprentice geisha. This is the time when she adopts a stage name that will be hers throughout her career, and often the geisha in an okiya share the first syllable of their stage names. a maiko on the way to workPart of a maiko’s training will be conducted at a kaburenjo, a training school for geisha, where different types of art are taught: ikebana (flower arranging), shodoh (calligraphy), sadoh (tea  ceremony), and traditional Japanese dance and music (shamisen, koto, fue, etc.). Another part of the training is learning to speak the dialect of the local hanamachi, and how to entertain all types of men and what to do at parties in general. For that, the maiko will accompany her onesan, but does this only to observe – and to be introduced and to make connections for her future career. Finally, there are intricacies of polite Japanese behaviour to learn: whom to greet first for example, or how deep to bow. This happens mainly by interacting with the other people in the hanamachi, by visiting other okiya or teahouses, for example. Maiko and Geisha - spot the differenceOnce the training of a maiko is completed, she will make her debut as a geisha after a ceremony called eriage, which literally means “turning the collar” of her underkimono from a red to a white one. This is only one way of distinguishing maiko and geisha. The appearance of a maiko is usually that of a young girl, with very colourful kimono and bright obi. A maiko’s kimono has long sleeves that almost reach to the floor; most often they wear their obi in a long dangling style to show off the pattern. To avoid trailing the expensive kimono on the floor, they must wear 10 cm high wooden okobo, and a part of their earliest training consists of learning how to walk in them. Maiko also have an elaborate hairstyle that includes many colourful hair ornaments and is difficult to maintain.

One of the things many maiko choose to do once they turn into a geisha is to cut off their hair and wear wigs instead. This saves them hours at the hairdresser’s each week, and now they can use real pillows instead of the tiny ones that allow no movement that could destroy the hairdo in the night. In general, a geisha’s appearance is more subdued than that of a maiko, as a geisha represents a mature woman. A geisha’s kimono is less ornate and colourful, the sleeves are much shorter, and the obi is worn in a more compact way. Another boon of being a geisha is that the more simple kimono now allows them to wear normal zori sandals, instead of the okobo. a mature geisha - note the hairstyle!These are the most obvious changes from maiko to geisha, but there are many little details only the truly initiated can spot. Maiko’s hairstyles and collar patterns change from year to year; the more mature a maiko or geisha, the less flaunting her kimono becomes as she is now able to rely on her skills rather than to impress with her dress; and there are people who can tell, just by looking at the kimono and hair ornaments of a maiko which month of the year it is.

Nowadays, geisha are not only accomplished entertainers, but also smart businesswomen. In fact, the hanamachi are entirely run by women – from the maiko, their big sisters and mothers, to the owners of the teahouses that employ them. All geisha are unmarried but I guess boyfriends are allowed these days. A geisha getting married marks the time of her retirement, which is celebrated by the final ceremony of hiki iwai. She may now stop taking classes and can move out of her okiya. Often, however, retired geisha open their own teahouse or okiya and stay in the hanamachi in this capacity. a typical maiko hairdo with lots of ornaments. A private evening with a geisha is almost prohibitively expensive, which may be one reason why the number of geisha is dwindling – there are less than 1000 in Japan these days, mostly in Kyoto and Tokyo. There are some public performances throughout the year though, and occasions where you can see maiko and geisha walking the streets on the way to their work, especially in Kyoto’s Gion district. The photos here were taken at a public ceremony last month, by the way.

Heritage

Japanese cuisine as a whole has just been assigned as a UNESCO “Intangible Cultural Heritage“. The definition of such is as follows (see the wikipedia article):

Intangible Cultural Heritage means the practices, representations, expressions, knowledge, skills – as well as the instruments, objects, artifacts and cultural spaces associated therewith – that communities, groups and, in some cases, individuals recognize as part of their cultural heritage. This intangible cultural heritage, transmitted from generation to generation, is constantly recreated by communities and groups in response to their environment, their interaction with nature and their history, and provides them with a sense of identity and continuity, thus promoting respect for cultural diversity and human creativity.

traditional Japanese breakfastJapan was the first country in the 1950s to protect cultural heritages like this by law, and it is among the countries that has the most intangible cultural heritage items on the UNESCO list, for example Noh theatre and gagaku court music, of which I have written before. Theatre, music, and handicraft are common cultural heritage, but Japanese cuisine is only the fifth one to be included, the others are French, Mediterranean, Turkish, and Mexican cuisine.

It surprises me a little that the whole of Japanese cuisine is designated as intangible cultural heritage, from Kyoto’s palace-derived haute cuisine kaiseki (see the breakfast above for an idea) to Portuguese-introduced or invented (?) tempura; from the quickly prepared ramen and udon noodles to the painstakingly slow process of making the various types of yuba; from raw sushi and sashimi to deliciously cooked unagi; and I am sure it even includes natto, the harmless English translation “fermented soybeans” not quite capturing the atrocity of its taste…

Over time I will have lots of occasion to eat and try much of Japan’s culinary art, maybe even learn how to prepare one or two of those dishes. I shall report accordingly, promised!

Yatsuhashi

Three types of yatsuhashi
In my attempt to explore Japanese food – especially sweets – I have come across one of the most famous sweets of Kyoto: Yatsuhashi. Yatsuhashi fall into the category “mochi”, but only barely so. They consist of very thin (maybe two millimetres) mochi dough at the outside, have about a teaspoonful of filling inside, and come in characteristic triangular shape.

I like them very much because they come in so many different flavours. The standard “green tea outside, anko read beans inside” is available everywhere and at all times, but Japanese also like the seasonal flavours like ringo (apple), momo (peach), ichigo (strawberry), or, right now kuri (chestnut). Black sesame is also a year round favourite, as is imo (sweet potato); and yatsuhashi are often bought as souvenir. The mochi dough outside, flavoured with a tiny bit of sugar and cinnamon – which you can buy fresh without filling or even dried  –  is not overly sweet, but the filling (not really marmalade, but some type of smooth paste) always hits you with the extra amount of sugar…