Grilled eel.
The aroma of grilled eel wafts through the air.
I like the smell, actually. Which is good, because all summer long, you can smell the aroma (some say stench) of grilled eel wafting by as you walk past restaurants with their front doors open, hoping to let in any possible breeze.
No, you cannot assume any traditional restaurant will be air conditioned. Better to assume the opposite! Only the western-style restaurants like Denny’s, McDonald’s, Starbucks, and their ilk are sure bets. I think most of the mom & pop coffee shops I went to were, as well. But I digress. Back to the eel.
So there you are, walking down the street, passing this and that Japanese restaurant with their doors open in hopes of catching any possible breeze, and the smell of grilled eel is wafting out. If you hate that smell, then you’re out of luck. Get used to it. Or carry around a scented handkerchief to hold up to your nose when you walk through the cloud of eel-smell (sometimes I think I can see it). You’ll need that handkerchief anyway, to dab at the sweat that will be pouring from your body in the extreme humidity that is summer in Japan. So make it a scented one, and you can hold it up to your nose to hold the grilled eel smell at bay.
But I like the smell ~ I don’t know why. I hate the taste. Of course, I didn’t know that the first summer I was in Japan and I went with my then-boyfriend, his mom, and his cousin to eat eel on July 2nd. The purpose of eating eel, Atsuko (then-boyfriend’s mom) told me is to gain stamina in order to make it through the summer. They know what they’re talking about. That humidity is unbelievable. It drains the energy out of everything, even my clothes as they hang on the line hoping to be dry three days later. It wreaks havoc in cupboards and closets and on ceilings, inviting mold and mildew to take hold and grow and ruin everything it touches. I know a woman who was unprepared, and everything in her closet was ruined. You can’t wash that out. You can’t dry clean that out. The only way to get mold out of your clothes is to throw them out! She got a new wardrobe out of the deal, but it’s better to be prepared. Get those water-sucking things ~ they’re called “Dry Pet” ~ that go in closets and cupboards and drawers, and change them weekly or monthly. The humidity is murder.
Hence, the eel. I swear, this story is about eel.
So, June is the rainy season, then the rain stops and everything just steams all through the rest of the summer. Laundry, as I mentioned, hangs on the line hoping to be dry in three days. You can see, it looks limp. Airless humidity, and even your freshly-washed clothes (out on the line) look tired. You can imagine, then, how it is for people. They need something to build up their stamina to get through the summer months.
Grilled eel, to the rescue.
I don’t know why eel is the answer, but I know we ~ the four of us ~ went out to have eel for lunch on July 2, 1985. My first taste of eel.
My last taste of eel. Here’s how it went.
Bite 1: I’m leery, because it’s something new, but then I thought, “Mm, not bad! I can eat this.”
No, you cannot assume any traditional restaurant will be air conditioned. Better to assume the opposite! Only the western-style restaurants like Denny’s, McDonald’s, Starbucks, and their ilk are sure bets. I think most of the mom & pop coffee shops I went to were, as well. But I digress. Back to the eel.
So there you are, walking down the street, passing this and that Japanese restaurant with their doors open in hopes of catching any possible breeze, and the smell of grilled eel is wafting out. If you hate that smell, then you’re out of luck. Get used to it. Or carry around a scented handkerchief to hold up to your nose when you walk through the cloud of eel-smell (sometimes I think I can see it). You’ll need that handkerchief anyway, to dab at the sweat that will be pouring from your body in the extreme humidity that is summer in Japan. So make it a scented one, and you can hold it up to your nose to hold the grilled eel smell at bay.
But I like the smell ~ I don’t know why. I hate the taste. Of course, I didn’t know that the first summer I was in Japan and I went with my then-boyfriend, his mom, and his cousin to eat eel on July 2nd. The purpose of eating eel, Atsuko (then-boyfriend’s mom) told me is to gain stamina in order to make it through the summer. They know what they’re talking about. That humidity is unbelievable. It drains the energy out of everything, even my clothes as they hang on the line hoping to be dry three days later. It wreaks havoc in cupboards and closets and on ceilings, inviting mold and mildew to take hold and grow and ruin everything it touches. I know a woman who was unprepared, and everything in her closet was ruined. You can’t wash that out. You can’t dry clean that out. The only way to get mold out of your clothes is to throw them out! She got a new wardrobe out of the deal, but it’s better to be prepared. Get those water-sucking things ~ they’re called “Dry Pet” ~ that go in closets and cupboards and drawers, and change them weekly or monthly. The humidity is murder.
Hence, the eel. I swear, this story is about eel.
So, June is the rainy season, then the rain stops and everything just steams all through the rest of the summer. Laundry, as I mentioned, hangs on the line hoping to be dry in three days. You can see, it looks limp. Airless humidity, and even your freshly-washed clothes (out on the line) look tired. You can imagine, then, how it is for people. They need something to build up their stamina to get through the summer months.
Grilled eel, to the rescue.
I don’t know why eel is the answer, but I know we ~ the four of us ~ went out to have eel for lunch on July 2, 1985. My first taste of eel.
My last taste of eel. Here’s how it went.
Bite 1: I’m leery, because it’s something new, but then I thought, “Mm, not bad! I can eat this.”
Bite 2: Okay, still alright. I can it eat but there’s a bit of an aftertaste.
Bite 3: Um, I’m done. That aftertaste is giving me the shivers.
Bite 4: Nope, didn’t even make it inside my mouth. Had to stop. Couldn’t. Get. In.
Bite 5: No, silly, this isn’t eel. It’s a McDonald’s cheeseburger!
Atsuko was very kind. They all finished their eel and watched me turn green, then we went across the street to get me a cheeseburger. Either to celebrate that they had finished their eel, or that I didn’t pass out, we all had milkshakes, too.
Mm, grilled eel and a milkshake. Make mine chocolate!
Mm, grilled eel and a milkshake. Make mine chocolate!
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