death in the evening

there is a friction that exists between different interpretations of the value of life in my experience of japan so far, if one is to look solely at food.

i went to a tempura restaurant the other night, which provided me with an insightful experience of "real" cuisine. its a restaurant called tsunahachi, and its in shinjuku. i seem to be spending a lot of time in shinjuku at night. the throngs are somehow comforting. the restaurant is one of those more traditional types, with low lighting as opposed to a neon flouro nightmare, and nice wooded surroundings and rice paper doors. you sit around one of about 7 different bars, all with their own chef who cooks your food in front of you.

i ordered a tempura banquet from the menu and sat back to enjoy the show. the "show" included the chef introducinhg me personally to my dinner alive and flipping and flopping about, before it was ceremoniously killed and prepared in front of me. something i would rather have been prepared for. the prawns were easy enough to deal with - here they are, then rip their heads of and shell them. the freshest seafood money can buy. the slithering eel was a little more challenging. here you go timbo, meet mr eel, mr eel - timbo. mr eel`s head was then nailed to the chopping board, he was cleaned, skinned and de-spined and then doused in tempura batter and fried. the spine was tied in a knot and fried crisp, as a nice crunchy garnish.

now once the initial confrontation is overcome, and the reality of what has just occured arrives on your plate - fried and delicious, its actually a blessing. it is a significantly more satisfying experience being forced to witness the processes and the sacrifices that have been made to nourish you, than to mindlessly accept the inanimate slab of meat without so much as a glance or second thought for the events that have brought it to you. yes, it was a living creature, and now it is dead, disembowled and cooked, and it`s my responsibility. acknowledging that, it was one of the best meals i`ve ever had, and i`d like to take my mother there. the killing and cleaning was humane, the seafood delicious, the tempura batter was light and not at all greasy, and the miso soup was to die for. mum - you`d love it.

the friction

i went to the tokyo fish markets (tsukiji) the next day. the lonely planet guide said - be sure to get there early and catch all the action of the biggest fish market in the world, wander the rows and rows, then dine on sushi and asahi beer for breakfast. it`s one of tokyo`s highlights.

let me quote some of the stats - 2500 tonnes of seafood, valued at $US23million is sold there every day. i saw severed heads of tuna bigger than basketballs, piled 30 high, and i lost count of the piles. i saw tuna the size of my father, and octopus the size of my mother. mud crabs that were 80cm accross weighing 10 kg. there was every form of sea life i could think of. i`ve been racking my brain all day, and the only thing i can think of that wasn`t there was coral, and you can`t eat that. if there was 50 market stalls, there was 5,000. it took 40 minutes to walk around it once, and i didn`t stop, or go down all the aisles.

and i was there late morning when the market was half empty and winding down.

and so we come full circle. from taking some responsibility for our consumption, to taking none. i no longer believe it is a matter of if the sea stops feeding us, but when. and the "when" just got a whole lot sooner.

then i wandered up the street and had a coffee and a bagel for breakfast.