Last weekend, I took a trip to a town called Itayanagi near Hirosaki to volunteer at a sake brewery. Japanese 酒, referred to in Japan as 日本酒 (nihonshu), is commonly called "sake" in Western countries (which technically only means "alcohol"). It is made from rice.
The brewery is family owned, and their top-shelf sake is made almost entirely by hand. We assisted in the process of making this upper grade sake.
The brewery: Iwaki Masamune
The first step in making sake is procuring and polishing the rice. The rice used to make sake differs from your common table rice in that it is more substantial and chewy, and has a more savory flavor. It's also quite a bit more expensive. For different types of sake, the rice is polished to varying degrees. The rice we used for the high grade sake had a whopping 55% of the grain polished away, ensuring that only the starchiest central portions of the rice remained.
After polishing and washing the rice, it is then steamed in giant bins. After the rice is steamed, it must then be laid out to cool down to about 7-8 degrees C. This is the part of the process where we volunteers came in. We were all wearing winter gear despite being indoors, but keep in mind that the brewery was kept at a temperature equal to that outside. My estimate is that it was between -3 and -5 degrees C.
Steaming the rice.
Laying the hot rice out to cool.
Me spreading the rice out, and Tossy being a creeper.
Before I continue, I should mention the most important part about sake brewing: microbes. Like all fermentation processes, sake brewing relies on microbes to convert the starch in the rice into sugars, and then convert the sugars into alcohol. I can't describe it very well, so I'll let Moyashimon do it for me.
醸すぞ！ Let's brew!
Moyashimon is one my favorite anime, and it deals with all kinds of fermented food, displaying the associated microbes as cute cartoon characters. The yellow guys in the back are oryzae, responsible for saccharification (or converting starches to sugars). The white buddies in front are cerevisiae, resposible for alcoholic fermentation (or converting sugars to alcohol). In other alcoholic drinks, such as beer, saccharification takes place first (making wort), and then alcoholic fermentation is performed (making mash). For sake, saccharification and alcoholic fermentation occur simultaneously in the same vat, which is why both microbial buddies are swimming around together in the picture.
To get the necessary microbes into the sake, the brew-masters must culture them in the form of "koji". Before the fermentation process even begins, some of the steamed rice is taken to the koji growing room. This room's climate is highly controlled, with lots of temperature and humidity monitors. Here, the workers spread the rice, and then sprinkle the microbes in the air via a shaker. After a few days, the surface of the rice is covered in a white fuzzy growth, and the koji is ready. Unfortunately for us, they had used up the last of their koji, so we didn't actually get to see the real thing. Here's what the process would have looked like:
The process.
Ripe koji.
The son brew-master demonstrates the aerial spread of microbes, while Hide freaks out about his asthma.
In the giant 2000 L vats, they combine water, lactic acid, yeast, steamed rice, and koji to make "shubo", the starting material. Then, they go through 3 steps of fermentation, adding new rice and water at every step to make a new mash. The three-step fermentation process is important because, while some microbes are vital for fermentation, other microbes are detrimental. For example, the microbes in natto, bacillus, are harmful to the sake brewing process. The other guys forgot to mention to me that we shouldn't eat natto before going to the brewery, so I had to wear a mask while in the fermentation chamber. The three-step fermentation process helps keep the good microbe count high so they won't be as susceptible to getting beat up by other microbes.
Our part took place at the final (third) step of the fermentation process. After flipping and re-spreading the rice several times, the rice was cool enough to be carried in bundles over to brewing vats. As we dumped the final batch of new rice and water into the final vat of sake, we officially completing this year's sake brewing season.
Carrying in the cooled rice.
Dumping rice into the large vat.
Giving the mixture some agitation.
After mixing the new rice in and agitating it around a bit, the brew-master topped it off with some fresh water and covered the vat with a thin cloth. He then showed us some of the other vats that have been sitting around for a bit longer. These vats were bubbly and topped with foam, emitting a fragrance similar to beer.
That's some foamy foamy shit!
I hear the microbes calling out to me!
After the brew has fermented completely, the mixture will be poured into filter bags and then squeezed under a mechanical press. All that's left is bottling, and voila! High grade sake is complete! Once our batch is finished, there will apparently be a party where we get to taste our creation. Until then, we got a bottle of lower grade (machine-made) sake as consolation.
Thanks for reading, and I hope it was fun and interesting! See you next time!
Now that winter is nearly over (hopefully), I can finally tell you what the infamous Aomori winter is like. Winter here is a big deal for everyone, even those that come from cold snowy areas. I, coming from sunny California, experienced the largest change in climate out of everyone else here (except maybe the new Hawaiian guy, although he's coming from Pennsylvania).
Basically, we can mark winter as the time when frozen water falls from the sky. Here in Aomori, that time period is 5 months long, from mid-November to mid-April.
For those of you who don't know already, Aomori is recognized as the snowiest large city (with population greater than 200,000) in the entire world. Aomori is situated so that storm clouds blow in from the North and the West. Mountain ranges in the south and east contain the clouds and allow them to dump all their moisture in the western and central regions. Aomori City averages about 300 inches of snow a year (25 feet, or 7.5 meters), and the worst parts of winter see days of endless snowfall and sub-zero temperatures. Being able to walk outside and not see snow falling is a rarity to be enjoyed. There are several ALTs from Michigan, and even they are amazed by the amount of snow here.
The local past-time during winter is an activity less for fun and more for function: 雪かき. Yukikaki means "snow clearing", and it's every bit a part of the culture around here. After a big storm, residents flow out of their houses with shovels, plows, and sleds to remove all the white junk from their driveways, cars, and roads. The stuff piles up quickly (sometimes 2 feet in a day), so it all needs to be relocated, or else the entire city shuts down. Snow plows run a tight schedule, and hardly a day goes by without seeing a plow working outside your house, rolling noisily down the highway, or refueling at the gas station.
The sidewalk on the way to school. The walkable path is about a foot wide.
Since the snowfall is absurdly abundant, people run out of places to put all the snow after a while. In the neighborhoods, empty lots are used for storing removed snow. Eventually, these become huge mounds that resemble landfills. Out along the main highway, the only place to put the snow is in mounds along the sidewalk. Eventually, these mounds overflow onto the highway and start consuming car lanes in the process. These lanes need to be cleared somehow.
Here is where the craziest snow operation I have ever seen takes place. The city has several enormous industrial-grade snow blowers. They are 2 stories tall and can clear snow mounds up to 8 feet high. Behind them, dump trucks line up for kilometers and wait their turn to be filled. The snow blowers progress slowly forward and eat up all the snow in the obstructed lanes, leaving shear walls of snow on the sidewalks. The filled dump trucks, I'm assuming, then head to the ocean to get rid of their load. It all happens like a glorious symphony, and it's a captivating spectacle.
Giant snowblower (minus dump trucks. This was a rural section of highway)
With the snow comes some inherent dangers. Obviously, you need to be outfitted to handle the cold and the wind. Sometimes, that means you need to cover every inch on your body to be comfortable. None of the locals wear ski goggles, but it feels necessary.
My standard winter outfit. Others may find it excessive, but I think it's entirely justified.
Safety is also a factor. Other than the risk of slipping on ice and breaking something, there is a particularly large risk involving roofs. Firstly, when the snow accumulates, the weight of all the snow can make your roof collapse. To prevent this from happening, lots of people go out onto their roof periodically to remove the snow. Every year, many old people die by falling off their roofs. Another danger involving roofs is having the packed snow slip off onto a passerby's head. The maintenance man at one of my schools also once warned me about snow on tree branches. Once the snow melts and refreezes, it's a genuinely hard and heavy hazard, tipped by the slightest gust of wind. Here, they call it 屋根雪 (yaneyuki, lit. "roof snow") or 落雪 (rakusetsu, or "falling snow/small avalanche"), but I like to call it 天罰 (tenbatsu, or "divine punishment"). One of the teachers had a car roof crushed by snow tumbling off the gym. The pressure of a tsunami of snow caved in the wall of another teacher's home, breaking windows of the neighbor's house along the way.
屋根雪 at it's worst. You wouldn't want this to land on you, icicle shrapnel and all.
The snow here is very troublesome and dangerous at times, but there are good points as well. The first is that local young people can enjoy the
many nearby ski resorts. The snow that falls is usually dry and fluffy
like cotton candy, so powder skiers and powder boarders love this area,
especially the legendary Hakkoda mountain range. (see previous blog post for my trip to Hakkoda)
Personally, I enjoy cross country skiing a bit more because it emphasizes balance, rhythm, and full-body strength over recklessness and expensive equipment/lift tickets. The local favorite park, Gappo Park, offers free cross country ski rentals for the community to use, so I like to go at least once a month. The powdery fluffy snow isn't great for cross country, so I usually wait for the snow to melt and refreeze so I can get some speed. The best part is that you can ski on a beach, with swans in the water and everything!
Another great thing about the snow is that, somehow, in an unexplainable way, it makes everything more beautiful. White dusted trees and roofs with fluffy blankets on top are the essence of winter beauty, even if it's so cold outside that you need goggles to see them.
That's all I've got for winter in Aomori! Here's hoping that by the next blog post, spring will have arrived!
I went back into the older posts, and noticed that I never wrote anything about the Fall foliage like I promised! Winter's already nearly over, but I'd still like to show you what the fall colors were like.
The leaves on the trees began changing around mid-October and remained until the end of November. I began to notice when the ginko trees turned a bright yellow hue and the hilly landscape behind the city morphed into a pastel of reds and oranges accenting the usual evergreens.
Path to Toyama Middle
On a weekend, I took the opportunity to travel to Hirosaki and view the foliage in the park that houses Hirosaki Castle. We had lots of opportunities for pictures:
Almost all the first years (from left to right): me, Eric, Ivonne, and Nico (no Tofu)
One of the remaining keeps.
The castle and moat.
That's all for now! Hopefully, next year I'll take more pictures in different locations (and not forget to upload them). See you next time!
After we'd finished with Odaiba, we headed to our next hotel near downtown Tokyo to drop off our luggage. We then took the train over to Akihabara to see what the legendary otaku district was like. Countless used electronics shops, anime/manga/game stores, and numerous maids advertising their maid cafes didn't disappoint. I pointed to a store selling supportive mouse pads (where the pad itself has a drawing of a girl, and the support cushion is perfectly placed on her bosom) and translated the sign of an erotic mega-store building while my mother snorted in disgust. Success!!
After they'd had enough of the craziness, we walked over to Asakusa to experience the atmosphere of old Tokyo. When we got there, it was like a carnival. People crowded the grounds of Sensouji Temple, and just squeezing through the famous Kaminari-mon (thunder/lightning door) was a challenge. There were food stands everywhere selling okonomiyaki, kara-age, amazake, and the other usual festival foods. My sister had a craving for monjayaki, but we couldn't find any to satisfy her.
Sensouji Temple
The inner gate, Hozo-mon.
Bad picture of Kaminari-mon
We left Asakusa, deciding to skip Tokyo Sky Tree in favor of Tokyo's eastern metropolitan area. First, we stopped at Harajuku to do some fashion viewing. Harajuku is well known for being a wild fashion center, where many of Japan's fashion trends originate. We knew that there would be some strangely dressed people walking around, so we went hunting for crazies. Sure enough, we saw more highlighter hair and balloon pants since 1980's America. I'd have pictures, but I wasn't unscrupulous enough to boldly photograph innocent pedestrians.
We got hungry, so we tried an okomiyaki/monjayaki restaurant I had heard good things about online. The shop didn't disappoint. First of all, the workers were definitely native residents of Harajuku with their crazy hair and clothing. In the customer base, there were hipsters as far as the eye could see, with fixies and vintage single-speeds parked out front. All over the walls was painted a strange hippy art, with massive-nosed characters in top hats spouting misspelled English speech bubbles. Here's one of the useful ones that helped us cook our food:
Inside Sakura-tei Okonomiyaki
While it was somewhat expensive, the food was tasty and made for a fun cooking/eating experience.
Okonomiyaki on the right, monjayaki on the left
Afterwards, we headed back to the hotel to rest, while my sister headed to Shibuya alone to check out the nightlife. She came back much later than she said she would, which made us convinced that she had died. Apparently, she's lost interest in clubbing these days, saying that she's "clubbed out". Whatever that means...
The next day, we went to take a look at the Tokyo Imperial Palace. It was rather boring, considering that they don't actually let you go into the grounds without a reserved tour. We snapped a few pictures and left to get my mom and sister to the airport.
Outer buildings of the Imperial Palace grounds.
We barely made it to their train on time, and the rush to load their massive luggage onto the train made them forget about returning the rest of the Japanese money I gave them. Sigh...
After they left, I had about 5 hours to kill before I needed to board my bus home, so I decided to go back to Akihabara and frolic amongst my fellow otaku. They had closed the streets, so the crowds were wandering about at their leisure. It almost felt like I was back at Anime Expo again. I bought some discounted goods from a few stores, and left with the victorious feeling of having my first figurines!
Party mode in Akihabara
I grew tired of carrying my luggage, so I bought a coffee from McDonalds and sat down for some rest. I also ventured back into the crowded Ameya-yokochou near Ueno Station to reward myself for a well executed winter break by chowing down on a spicy doner kebab. Relieved that vacation was over, but longing for more relaxation and the company of my Honeybunny, I retired into the bus cabin and headed home.
Thank you for enduring the 7 whole parts of my winter break adventures. See you next time!
After arriving back in Tokyo, we boarded the expensive and fancy Yurikamome monorail into Odaiba Island. Odaiba is a manmade island constructed in the mid 19th century for the purpose of port defense. It was heavily expanded in the economic boom from the 1970's to the early 90s, but the bubble burst caused development to come to a grinding halt. Now, after a resurrection, Odaiba has become an upper-middle class weekend shopping haven and date destination. We stayed at one of the swankier hotels, called Hotel Nikko, because I managed to get a stunning weekday deal on a hotel room.
Hotel Nikko: convex to provide the best views of the bay.
The moment I got off the monorail, I knew I was a little out of place. I've never been a fan of high-class luxuries, so I felt uncomfortable in this artificial tourist destination made for the sole purpose of sucking money into capitalist hands. Indeed, I had to tread carefully, making sure to refuse room service, avoid using the pool (which had a 3600 yen charge), and keep my hands off the minibar.
50 mL of Jack for 1575 yen? That's an expensive toothbrush, Ke$ha...
During the day, we explored the various shopping centers, such as Diver City and Palette Town. Diver city sports a "life-size" Gundam statue in the courtyard and an accompanying Gundam cafe for fans to swoon over. There's also several maid cafes for the rest of us.
My sister grudgingly posing for my photo in her tomato pants.
Palette Town has one of the largest ferris wheels in the world, which gives you a great view of Tokyo and Mt. Fuji (if the weather permits). They even offer fully clear cabins fitted entirely with transparent plexiglass paneling! We opted for the clear cabins to squeeze as much vertigo into the experience as we could. Near the top, my sister and I stood up and started rocking the cabin, but she eventually got scared and made me stop.
Daiba ferris wheel. The cage-like cabin at the top right of the photo is one of the clear cabins.
The view at the top.
In Palette Town, I also found my favorite place in Odaiba: Toyota MEGAWEB. This place is like a Toyota showroom, with all cars in the Toyota fleet for you to play with. They had off-road simulators and a station running Gran Turismo, all for free! There were also some cool displays of handicapped-friendly cars (one had an automatic wheelchair loader that stowed it in a compartment on the roof), electric bicycles, and my favorite, the iReal futuristic mobility vehicle. We were lucky to be there on a relatively empty day, so we all got a chance to give the iReal a test ride.
MEGAWEB also has a test track winding through the Palette Town premises, and they offer 20 minute test drives of any fleet vehicle for 300 yen. Of course, I wasn't going to pay to test drive any normal car that I could drive at any dealership. I chose to drive a little electric one-seater on my first run, and after I had my fun, I went a second round with the sexy 86 sports car. The track was pretty narrow, so I was stressed during the sports car run. However, the electric car was tiny and maneuverable, so I kept the pedal to the metal all the way with it. To bad it has a max speed of only 40 kph and a stiff, crunchy suspension.
Toyota COMS: a cute electric one-seater with a golf cart suspension.
Stock photo of Toyota 86
Despite the all the fake, Odaiba is a beautiful place. Many of the buildings are built with futuristic architecture, so the skyline is unique and intriguing.
A chapel made entirely of glass.
A beautiful ship near the maritime museum.
A golden spike next to the Fuji TV building and Diver City.
The most beautiful sight is the dazzling night view of the bay and the rest of Tokyo.
Tokyo Tower in the back, Rainbow Bridge in the middle, and Yakatabune (dinner boats) floating in the bay.
Small replica of the Statue of Liberty.
That's all for Odaiba! Next time, we finish the vacation in the nitty gritty of metropolitan Tokyo.
