stockholm

goodbye astoria

i will miss your laid back ways, and the smell of your kitchens.

it's official!

i'm moving to finland! i'll start work on april 1. there's so much to plan and think about, and i'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment... but very excited.

and i guess i should stop complaining about the cold now.

i love (+new yorkers who love) liszt

last night jean-yves thibaudet opened the franz liszt bicentenary concert series at carnegie hall. the program began with the consolations, followed by les jeux d'eaux... some of my favourite pieces.

as i sat down in my balcony seat, getting ready for some moody 19th-century romanticism, i heard from one row behind me a true newyawk (ok, i don't know exactly which) accent: "so let's see here, the program says he's gonna start with the consolations, which is, frankly, a warm up piece, and that makes sense because after that he's playing jeux d'eaux which is one helluva knuckle-buster... " he made me chuckle, reminding me of the scene in annie hall, being stuck in a theatre line next to a man holding forth on fellini and samuel beckett.

but rather than annoy me, this enthusiastic, pre-concert commentary made me quite happy. i love the way many new yorkers are ready to share their thoughts on just about everything, and that they have no shame or inhibition.

as the last applause was winding down, i heard this gentleman tell his companion: "just amazing! he's got so much refined technique but he's also got this wild verve... a genius, i tell you! that last encore alone was worth the price of this ticket!" i almost turned around to tell him "yes, yes, i agree!!" you don't find people like that anywhere else, really.

oh no, i'm getting a bit sentimental about new york! it's because i've been thinking about moving. to somewhere quite far! i'm dying to tell you everything. soon, i promise...

photographing tokyo

often, i'll see a photo and know right away that it was taken in japan. but it takes a while to figure out what it is that i recognize, the give-away in the picture.

sometimes it's simple -- a vending machine, a stop sign -- other times it's more subtle, like electrical lines that criss cross the skyline, or a decorative cement block. it's something i think about when i take snapshots of tokyo. the scenery is so familiar to me that i need to make a conscious effort to recognize what's beautiful or interesting. it helps to be away for a while and have the eyes of an outsider.  

recognizing the extraordinary in the every day seems to come naturally for my friend hidemi, a photographer whom my friends refer to as "that crazy friend of yours..." it was a treat to go for a walk with her around ebisu and shibuya, stopping here and there to take photos of the weird and beautiful.

happy new year

everybody in tokyo seems to be talking about one thing this new year, and that's "danshari" -- a word using the three chinese characters for "refusal", "abandonment" and "separation" (断捨離). it's meant to signify the pursuit of a simple and uncluttered life, by throwing away things you no longer need and learning to live with less. there's no doubt that a decade of deflation and economic stagnation is forcing people to re-evaluate their behavior. about a dozen people i met this past week have cited it as a resolution for the year.

but i'm all for new year's resolutions, and here are mine:

- read books more slowly. book-devouring all-nighters are a bad habit from high school.
- more japanese cooking!
- more photography. maybe try landscape this year? which means i'd need a new lens (danshari, danshari...)
- get back to swimming.
- learn a new language. i'll keep you posted on this one...

paths and rivers

"It's funny about paths and rivers. You see them go by, and suddenly you get upset and want to be somewhere else... wherever the path or river is going perhaps." -Sniff, from Comet in Moominland

older than charlie parker

not a very good day, today. i lost a glove, and a few other things... so i go home, put the "charlie chan" quintet's jazz at massey hall on the turntable. then lie on the sofa and wait to be transported elsewhere.

but instead of 1953 toronto, i find myself in a certain bar in kyoto. a bar that casually serves 30-year-old talisker, where the bartender looks after an immaculate collection of jazz records and usually ends the night slightly more drunk than his patrons. it's called slow boat.

the other day i turned 35, a year older than charlie parker when he died.

avocado memories

when i was growing up, we had huge avocado trees in our backyard. in season, we'd hear them at night, dropping thump-thump onto our roof. and after school i'd invite my neighbors marky f. and jen to avocado fights, where we'd sling rotten pieces at each other (and occasionally, when we're feeling mean, some hard, young ones as well).

and of course we ate a lot of them. i still love avocados, ground into guacamole or sliced and dipped into soy sauce like sashimi. they're the flavor of my childhood but i'm also happy to eat them in new ways...

such as this avocado ice cream with a mango and tapioca pudding at the slanted door in san francisco...

and this salad of cantaloupe, avocado, cucumber and watercress with a drizzle of vinegar, sea sea salt and olive oil. such simplicity, and genius, at chez panisse. 

you shouldn't live alone

once upon a time in tokyo, i lived in a little shack made of wood, paper and a little bit of concrete. none of the windows or doors shut properly, so the room (there was only one) was always drafty. during the winter it would get so cold i'd have to read books, write letters and work on my laptop in the bathroom on my temperature-adjustable "washlet", the warmest place in my 200 square-foot apartment. but the apartment had a certain charm, "omomuki" as they call it in japanese. i loved it.

my parents were initially baffled that i'd choose to live in such squalor rather than with them, in the suburbs, just an hour away. but i think my mother secretly came to like the place, as she'd visit quite often just to have tea, and we'd chat for hours until she'd suddenly glance at her watch and say "oh my, this apartment of yours is so old it makes me forget the time!"

she was the one who told me to always have flowers and plants around. it's always nice to have other living things in your room, she'd say, "you shouldn't live alone." i think it's good advice...

on summer mornings...

a few hours of cool and quiet before the heat sets in and the asphalt begins to sizzle

august in new york

the early bird... gets first pickings of fresh produce at union square market on saturdays. so which one looks best?

why do my favorite summer dishes...

like soba (i don't feel like eating anything else once temperatures reach 30 degrees celsius)...

blanched bean sprouts pickled in a mix of sesame oil, vinegar and japanese "dashi" (the perfect combination of crunchy and sour)...

and cold, marinated eggplants...

... require so much boiling and grilling? my kitchen is like a sauna!

summer dishes to cool you down -unless you're the cook

more postcards from cinque terre

postcards from cinque terre

cinque terre

the highlight of our 2-week trip in italy was cinque terre. built into the cliffs along the ligurian coast, the 5 towns that comprise the cinque terre aren't just postcard villages dependent on tourism, they're real, wine-growing and fishing communities.


some highlights: "trofie" with pesto genovese (below left), and seafood pasta (right), and (further below) a classic ligurian dish of layered seafood called "cappun magru," which is also the name of the restaurant itself... "cappun magru in casa di marin" is in groppo, a 30 minute hike up from manarola, where we stayed. our server christiane gave us such knowledgeable and thoughtful advice on wine, and the vino da tavola by carlaz was the most interesting vermentino i've ever tasted. i do think ligurian wines are under-appreciated. the 5 terre wine cooperative sold some very reasonably-priced, good wines, and i'm really regretting not buying a bottle of the local dessert wine, sciachettra!

we enjoyed hiking up to volastra and corniglia, and on to vernazza. the views of the vineyards and ocean from the hills were fantastic. but nothing beat the view from our b&b, la torretta, in manarola. i sat on the terrace for hours, watching the sun settle into the mediterranean, trying to burn the image into my mind so i could revisit it when things get tough at work.

eat like locals do in firenze

i tried something new in firenze this time: renting an apartment with a kitchen. the main reason was that my parents, who were joining me, don't like to eat out very much. restaurant food is too salty, too oily, too much everything, they say. and while i enjoy eating out, and love some firenze restaurants like il santo bevitore (above is their zucchini souffle), i agree. it's a bit much to be eating out for every single meal during a 10-day vacation. and what's funner than shopping like the locals do?

so i chose le tre stanze, an old florentine palace that's been turned into apartments. our room came with a basic kitchen and cute little garden. we shopped at the san lorenzo market for fresh vegetables, fruit, gorgeous cheese and prosciutto, and some ready-made condiments. we picked up zucchini blossom focaccia at the cantinetta verazzano, and discovered some excellent, 7 and 8 euro bottles of vernaccia di san gimignano in the enoteca across the street...

my parents couldn't be happier. not only could they eat well, and in moderation, they could also indulge in some embarrassing family habits like arguing loudly over who should get the biggest piece of buffalo mozzarella, and, 5 seconds after finishing a meal, rolling out of our chairs and onto our beds for "digestion" naps!

siena

i still remember the first time i saw the clam shell-shaped piazza del campo in siena. it was 10 years ago, at the end of a rather long vacation. italy, to me, is foreign in so many ways, and i feel that italians tend to not let you forget that. but when i walked into the square, i felt a different, very strange sensation... for the first time during that trip, i felt like i belonged there, and nowhere else. i don't think i'm the only one that feels that way. everyone seems so absorbed in just being there.

i always stay at palazzo ravizza. a palace-turned-pensione that was last renovated circa 1960. it could definitely use some cleaning and freshening up, but oh, the views... 

and something else i saw in siena that made me smile. men of a certain age, out on a stroll:

there's something about rome...

it doesn't have the grace of florence or the sophistication of milan, but there's something about rome i find irresistible.

it was the last week of june and already blistering hot... and rome isn't one of those cities with shaded alleys or cool gallerias. everything is wide open to the sun's rays. so after some walking around, a plate of cool, marinated artichokes was just perfect. so was a glass of frascati superiore (yes there is superior frascati)... and some homemade summer pasta, with barely-cooked veggies and a generous sprinkling of pecorino.

italia!

there is one place i really love to visit in the summer. early july, to be exact. it doesn't matter that it gets unbearably hot and muggy. my favourite things -- white peaches, melon, and zucchini blossoms -- are all in season, and the clothes are on sale.