Jonelle Patrick's Blog, page 38

The Best One-Size-Fits-All Gift EVER

Thank me now, because I’m about to deliver you from all your holiday shopping woes. I finally found a gift that’s perfect for EVERYONE!

 

But wait, why would anyone want a 4″ bendable plastic skeleton? Read on, my friend, read on! (And if you happen to go online and an hour later you’re still laughing at the endless #poseskeleton thread, don’t blame me!)

Am I right, or am I right?

And if you’re gnashing your teeth because you’re not within shouting distance of one of Tokyo’s awesome toy stores, guess what? They sell Pose Skeletons on Amazon now, woo hoo!

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

What’s Purple And Squishy And Tastes Like Thanksgiving?

 

This time of year, if it’s sweet and purple, it tastes like…WAT? Yes, sweet potato candy (and muffins and ice cream) is a THING, and anything that’s purple in Japan right now tastes kind of like Thanksgiving without the marshmallows. Let’s sidestep the impossible task of pondering why anyone would make desserts that taste like sweet potatoes when there’s chocolate on the planet, and ask instead…why are Japanese sweet potatoes PURPLE? I mean, would the classic T-day side be more appealing or less, if it looked like this?

Who wants seconds?

Thanks to foodsofourlives.com for the original photo of the most luscious-looking sweet potato hotdish I could find! Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

Battle Dress Kimonos

Okay, you’ve gotta help me out here: what sort of manly occasion could possibly call for donning a kimono fashioned from American mil-spec camo?

Defcon 3 tea ceremony behind enemy lines? Tactical assault on the afternoon kabuki performance? Undercover date to the summer fireworks, knowing your recently-jilted ex will be there and gunning for you?

Whatever occasion calls for strategic – yet stealthy – Japanese formalwear, now you can attend in confidence, knowing that all your base are belong to us, whether on land, sea or air.

The obvious choice for infiltrating cherry blossom parties to which you have not been invited.

For stealth autumn leaf viewing, when photos shot from the designated area just won’t accomplish the mission objective.

The fish will never see you coming, when you drop a line in this Navy Working kimono.

Golf is war. Say it with camo.

If you know someone with a burning need for formal stealthwear, you can view the full Battle Dress Uniform line in all its glory at Kyoto Kimono Sai. These are only sold in Japan, but you can get White Rabbit Express to shop & ship for a very reasonable price. Shout-out to fellow kimono aficionado Ohio Kimono Lady for the awesome pointer!

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

The Deli For Dogs

How can Fifi decide between the tofu rolls and the pumpkin balls?

I was cutting through my favorite crazy pet store in Odaiba, when I spotted what I thought was a deli counter where pet owners who had become famished while stocking up on camouflage dog strollers and duck muzzles could grab a bite, but when I looked closer, all the artfully styled food models above the refrigerator case were intended for dogs!

I know. I shouldn’t be surprised there’s gourmet take-out for canines in the land where people buy magazines devoted to the latest dog hairstyles and get up early to make doggie bento lunches for their pooches to take to obedience school, but sheesh, I honestly kind of thought those people were outliers. Apparently not.

Now Rex can enjoy the kind of “leftovers” that never make it to the dog bowl because his owner ate them all.

Because every dog deserves a main and his choice of sides.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

Vending Machines Of The Dead

In case you need reminding what will happen if you eat one of these TASTY POISONOUS MUSHROOM PEOPLE.

Bring on the zombies, but DO NOT put one of THESE in my bed.

On the other hand, you can never have too many undead bananas.

And finally…you’re welcome.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

Level Up, Halloweenies!

Because in Japan, dressing up is no joke! Real cosplayers scoff at Halloween as Amateur Night, but for most people, the Big H is a chance to flaunt their secret zombie in public, and even ordinary citizens put serious effort into Doing It Right.

Here’s what the rather elaborate makeup “suggestions” look like up close!

Here, if you want to be slightly crossdressing Steampunk Jack or Goth Maleficent, you can just (yawn) buy them off the rack.

Even if you have zero costuming chops yourself, you can always be the All Saints version of Sexy Santa, or don a green wig and this 1980s shoulder pad-inspired Frank suit.

I’m giving the grand prize in this year’s You’re A Sexy WHAT? sweepstakes to this least-likely-to-be-adapted-for-a-fetching-costume entry. It was the blue fake fur and tail call-out that really edged this one out in front.

And of course, you could always fall back on the Buff Pumpkin look, if you don’t mind prancing about in public in puffy green choners.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

 

Eat ALL The Bugs

Hey, look! A stand selling local honey! Do you think it’s made from the shibazakura flowers this park is famous for? Let’s get some to bring back to Tokyo as a souvenir! Hmm, should we get a big jar or a…

Wait. What’s that in the…? No. NO. Please tell me it’s not…

…the biggest-ass bumblebee you ever saw, RIGHT IN THE HONEY!

Aieee, what is this, AUSTRALIA? I mean, what if you got up in the morning and snagged your bread from the toaster before you’d had your coffee and when you went to take your first bite, there was a giant BEE LEG staring right up at you? Or, even worse, what if you were deleting your spam while you ate and didn’t notice all the insect parts on your breakfast and you took a bite and it was CRUNCHY? Like, crunchy in NOT A TOAST-LIKE WAY?

You can gauge my level of horror at this dead bee honey by the fact that it wasn’t until I got home and looked at my pictures that I noticed the enormous brown cow-dookie-shaped things in the background. I zoomed in and, just as I feared, they’re the…

…evil honeycombs of doom where giant hairy bees are spawned O_O

If you’d like to buy some scary insect-riddled honey yourself, they sell it at the festival next to the otherwise otherwise quite gorgeous shibazakura fields at Hitsujiyama (in Chichibu), from the middle of April to the middle of May. A map is on my website, The Tokyo Guide I Wish I’d Had.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

Because Who WOULDN’T Want A Cocktail Served In A Smoke-Filled Skull?

And that’s just the tip o’ the liquid nitrogen, flash-frozen iceberg at the Codename:Mixology bar! Because although no snozzberries were detected on the menu, this place definitely is to what-did-I-just drinks as Willy Wonka is to chocolate factories.

Blue Cheese Vodka Martini? Check.

Happy-making libation that tastes like Thai Tom Yum soup, only better? Already standing in line for seconds.

Industrial centrifuge + fresh tomatoes + basil-infused gin = that’s the kind of salad I’m talkin’ about.

And this is the magical Rotovapor! It distills flavors from all kinds of unlikely sources to make spirits that taste like everything from foie gras to bamboo leaf.

A little liquid nitrogen is all in a day’s work for the Mixologist X Mad Scientists who craft cocktails that occasionally take the form of adults-only sorbet.

At this place, every technique is an art…

…and watching the bartender make your drink is nearly as much fun as drinking it.

Sorry for the post-Blue Cheese-Martini photos, but here are a few of the temptations on offer, so you can see just how ain’t-never-had-that-before these cocktails can be.

One of the things I especially like about this bar is that most of the cocktails don’t knock you under the table, so you can try (or share) more than one. They’re pretty pricey (¥1500 – ¥1800) but if you consider that the experience includes the entertainment of watching it made plus the pleasure of sitting in a really nice place drinking something you couldn’t get anywhere else in the world, it actually seems like kind of a bargain…

If you’d like to go to Codename:Mixology the next time you’re in Tokyo, maps to the and the  are on my website, The Tokyo Guide I Wish I’d Had.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

My Worst Foreigner Moment

True confessions time. I was just reading my fellow blogger Ben’s account of climbing Mt. Fuji (it’s pretty excellent – check it out here) and it occurred to me that, as an exercise in not being That Foreigner (the smug one who thinks she’s the boss of J-culture), I really ought to divulge my most cringeworthy moment in Japan.

Not that there haven’t been plenty of other times I’ve been secretly branded a Crazy Foreigner by phalanxes of nice Japanese people averting their eyes and backing away slowly, but this one is a classic because it involves, yes, Mt. Fuji. It happened about ten years ago, before I learned what a mistake it was to nod and smile and look like I understood those big swadges of utterly opaque Japanese that people were always gifting me with.

The truth is, I’ve never climbed Mt. Fuji. This isn’t unusual, even among Japanese – it’s hella hard. At over 12,000 ft., it’s a lung-scalding, life-sapping, full-day climb, including some Class Four scrambling up rocks near the top. You pretty much need lots of extra lives if you want to survive without a) losing your cookies due to altitude sickness and b) straining body parts you didn’t even know you had, in ways that leave you gimping around and eating Advil for weeks to come. Most people drive to Station Five on the first day, hike up to Station Eight, stay overnight, then rise at 3:00 a.m. to summit in time to snap their selfies at sunrise.

Which is why, when an acquaintance casually invited me to go to Mt. Fuji with him and some friends in his car, I thought that the missing helper verb was “see” not “climb.” So, I dressed for a pleasant summer excursion to view the most-photographed landmark in Japan.

Purse-size camera: check.

Sleeveless sundress: check.

Sunglasses, high-heeled sandals & lovely seasonal handbag: check, check, check.

You see where this is going. And as soon as my acquaintance returned from the Fifth Station souvenir stand toting Official Mt. Fuji Climbing Sticks for all, so did I.

There was nothing to do but gird up my pantyhose, and charge up the trail like, of course this is how everyone equips themselves back in my home country, when a 12,000-foot peak needs scaling.

And honestly, from the fifth station to the sixth, it was perfectly do-able. Perfectly do-able, I tell you. Just like walking up a Tokyo street, if that street happened to be made of gritty, slippery volcanic cinders and pointy lava rocks. We made it to the sixth station (got the brand on my walking stick to prove it!) and climbed halfway to the seventh before the sheer humiliation of traveling with a Crazy Foreigner in high heels who politely greeted every ragged and exhausted Fuji Warrior limping down from the summit with a cheery, “Konnichi wa!” got the better of my companions.

They tried to assure me that I hadn’t cut their enjoyment short in any way, but yeah, I’m pretty sure they were lying.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.

My Worst Crazy Foreigner Moment

True confessions time. I was just reading my fellow blogger Ben’s account of climbing Mt. Fuji (it’s pretty excellent – check it out here) and it occurred to me that, as an exercise in not being That Foreigner (the smug one who thinks she’s the boss of J-culture), I really ought to divulge my most cringeworthy moment in Japan.

Not that there haven’t been plenty of other times I’ve been secretly branded a Crazy Foreigner by whole phalanxes of nice Japanese people averting their eyes and backing away slowly, but this one is a classic because it involves, yes, Mt. Fuji. It happened about ten years ago, before I learned what a mistake it was to nod and smile and look like I understood those big swadges of utterly opaque Japanese people were always gifting me with.

The truth is, I’ve never climbed Mt. Fuji. This isn’t unusual, even among Japanese – it’s hella hard. At over 12,000 ft., it’s a lung-scalding, life-sapping, full-day climb, including some Class Four scrambling up rocks near the top. You pretty much need lots of extra lives if you want to survive without a) losing your cookies due to altitude sickness and b) straining body parts you didn’t even know you had, in ways that leave you gimping around and eating Advil for weeks to come. Most people drive to Station Five on the first day, hike up to Station Eight, stay overnight, then rise at 3:00 a.m. to summit in time to snap their selfies at sunrise.

Which is why, when an acquaintance casually invited me to go to Mt. Fuji with him and some friends in his car, I thought that the missing helper verb was “see” not “climb.” So, I dressed for a pleasant summer excursion to view the most-photographed landmark in Japan.

Purse-size camera: check.

Sleeveless sundress: check.

Sunglasses, high-heeled sandals & lovely seasonal handbag: check, check, check.

You see where this is going. And as soon as my acquaintance returned from the Fifth Station souvenir stand toting Official Mt. Fuji Climbing Sticks for all, so did I.

There was nothing to do but gird up my pantyhose, and charge up the trail like, of course this is how everyone equips themselves back in my home country, when a 12,000-foot peak needs scaling.

And honestly, between the fifth and sixth stations, it was perfectly do-able. Perfectly do-able, I tell you. Just like walking up a Tokyo street, if that street happened to be made of gritty, slippery volcanic cinders and pointy lava rocks. We made it to the sixth station (got the brand on my walking stick to prove it!) and climbed halfway to the seventh before the sheer humiliation of traveling with a Crazy Foreigner in high heels who politely greeted every ragged and exhausted Fuji Warrior limping down from the summit with a cheery, “Konnichi wa!” got the better of my companions.

They tried to assure me that I hadn’t cut their enjoyment short in any way, but yeah, I’m pretty sure they were lying.

Jonelle Patrick is the author of the Only In Tokyo mystery series,  published by Penguin/Intermix.