Nabe

Perhaps a place has a feeling independent of anything personal.  The hills of San Francisco reveal so many houses and hide so many others, the lakes of Madison open the skies, the odd-angled streets of Japan surprise the person around the corner.  But the people with whom one comes into close contact during that time in a space seem of equal importance.  And perhaps the way those people act somehow reflects the nature of the landscape–hills, open skies, close quarters–or perhaps their nature exists on its own.

Regardless, another way of re-acclimating to Japan is to be in touch with those people.  Tonight a few friends came over for nabe dinner.  This was my first time trying this at home and the feast enlisted the hot-plate of one, the nabe-pot of another, the knowledge, ingredients, good will and conversation of all.  We boiled cabbage, tofu, mushrooms, konnyaku, onions, and shrimp in a soy milk broth.  Before we had an appetizer of shrimp-tuna-kimchee fried rice and afterwards we enjoyed a dessert of profiteroles (with profitorial debates included) and Hershey chocolate sauce (thanks Costco).  Eating with friends in Japan.

Surrounding the nabe fixin's