Tokyo – 11 hours later. No more iconic 747s flying to this destination, and the good old days of the layover in Anchorage are over. The route is more direct, crossing the Siberian steppe. Too high to spot a polar bear. But the breathtaking view of the Russian permafrost remains; it's peaceful.
Tokyo Haneda Airport is just a short taxi ride from Ginza, my long-time home base in the Japanese capital. No more 70-minute bus rides from Narita. Good news: you get to the heart of the most vibrant and amazing city on the planet much faster. And, most importantly, you can get to a table in a Tokyo restaurant much faster.
Because Tokyo is the interplanetary capital of food choice, the quintessence of gustatory luxury, the earthly paradise of the gourmet, the Holy Grail of the hungry.
With the flight arriving in the morning, we have time to rush to Tsukiji to get a first plate of sushi with a cold beer – it's better at breakfast-.
Arriving in the evening, there's no need to panic. The Izakaya in Ueno are at a good temperature, warmed by the salarymen who fill them after work.
But the hardest part is yet to come. It's not the length of the flight, nor the language barrier. The hardest part is the choice… Where to go to sip sake? Where to watch duck liver skewers being roasted? Is it still sea cucumber gut season?
All this choice is coupled with the near certainty of not making a bad choice and finding exceptional quality on a student budget, because every restaurant, at its own price point, does its best. And that's fantastic. The common idea of Japan being unaffordable is rather false. Even if extremes exist side by side and a single sushi can cost the price of an entire meal here. A €50 sushi does exist. I mean ONE sushi, one bite. Cut the fatty tuna they call Maguro into 10 different sections, as they do, and you'll have your own scale of values. But the price will primarily reflect quality and rarity, not ostentation or the restaurant's address.
And I'm only talking about savory things here. Because the temptation of Japanese sweets is just as strong. Strong because it's so unfamiliar to Westerners who arrive thinking they'll lose a few pounds with a fish-only diet. I'm not talking about their matcha green tea cakes that have somehow made their way here. No! I'm talking about good old recipes from the Old World, elevated by Japanese culinary art and its endless pursuit of perfection. I'm talking about éclairs, Paris-Brest, cream puffs…the cream puffs from the Matsuya food aisle, light as a cloud, delicate as a prima ballerina. You just can't stop, it's like a candy store effect, with the added bonus of virtuosity.
