First Plum blossom

I haven't had a chance to tell you what else I did to slow down after Sakai's art opening last weekend besides taking some old cookbooks out of storage.  I went camping!  Don't say the season is over for that because it never really is in Southern California.  Just drive an hour North on Pacific Coast Highway and you will find Leo Carrillo Beach State Park. It is a local campsite that offers both the sea and easy trails to hike.  We had perfect fall weather and a gorgeous full moon night on Saturday. 

Every year, our friend Edward, books the campsite, e-mails everybody, and sets up camp before the rest of us arrive. This year Edward booked a little late but we still made it.  It's good to have a dependable self-designated camp leader like Edward. Back when we started camping together twenty years ago, we all had our kids around so it meant a lot to get them out of the city and be in nature.  But what you realize is that even after the kids have left the nest, there is still a good reason to go camping. To get out of the city and be in nature.  What's great about going to Leo Carillo is that it's not a very big commitment to drive out there. If you don't like to spend the night on a hard and dusty surface, you can go home.  I admit, I have become one of those light weight campers who prefers the comfort of my own bed.  But we have become forgiving in our middle age. You do what you can. You bring the food, some wine and enjoy each other's company.  I made a Beef tri-tip with salsa. The soy-ginger-lime marinade invention worked! It came out very tender and flavorful.

The table setting is usually a funky miss match.

        I decided to bring china and cloth napkins since there was

only seven of us this year. Edward's apple print vinyl 

table cloth he got from a garage sale coincidentally

matches everything.   

Annie brought Turkey Enchilada Casserole - a recipe

she got from Sunset magazine. Usually she does  beans and corn but 

we decided on a Mexican theme this year because Edward

bought a house in San Miguel de Allende.  We wanted to show

him we could all cook Mexican food so he will invite us to his

new house. 

Terry made frijoles and shrimp ceviche.  Her friholes 

are cooking or shall I say burning in hell.

She got up and started stirring the beans. No problema.

An assortment of drinks.  It's a hit or miss but no one complains.

There is more in the ice box. 

Ana guarding the Tri-tip. She got a little piece.  Everyone was

happy.

BEEF TRI-TIP IN A SOY LIME MARINADE 

I served this tri-tip with a salsa (see below)

RECIPE

Serves 6

2 Lbs -2.5 Lbs Beef tri-tip

Marinade:

1/2 cup soy sauce

1/3 cup lime juice

1/2 cup sake

2 tbls frshly grated ginger

2 tbls honey

1 bls crushed red chili peppers

Combine all the ingredients for the marinade.  Marinate trip-tip for up to 24 hours in the fridge.  

Remove from marinade and bring to room temperature.  Barbecue the tri-tip over hot coals and sear both sides.  Then move Tri-tip where heat is lower and cook 15 minutes per side for rare or until desired doneness. Before slicing, let the tri-tip rest for 10 minutes.  Then slice thinly, about 1/4-inch thick across the grain and serve with the salsa (recipe below).

Beautiful 2 lbs beef tri-tip.

I wanted to use up these key limes that were sitting around

                        waiting to be used in a Key Lime Pie.  Never made it so I used them

all up for the marinade.

I marinated the tri-tip over night.  Spread the grated ginger

on the tri-tip. 

After I seared the trip tip over hot coals.  

I moved it to the side where the heat was lower.

Salsa

RECIPE 

4 -6 tomatoes, seeded and chopped

3 green onions, thinly sliced

1/2 onion, chopped

1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped

1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely chopped

1/2 cup chopped cilantro

1 avocado, cut into 1/4 inch cubes

2 lime juices

salt and pepper to taste

Mix all the ingredients except the avocado and let stand for 2-3 hours.  Just before serving, add the diced avocado.

MENU SUGGESTIONS: Shrimp ceviche, Beef Tri-Tip, Salsa, Friholes, Tortillas.

A whimsical display

It's good to have a reason to leave the city once in awhile, even if it is to deliver some boxes to put in storage.  Our storage is out in Oxnard, an one hour drive on the Ventura Freeway from Santa Monica.  We've made the trip countless times.  It is a long drive just to go and store things but today, I am enjoying this trip.  Who knows, I might find something I want to take out.

Open sesame. Lots of stuff in there.  As the old Japanese saying goes, dust collects and turns into a mountain.  But among the dust, there are some interesting things.  Boxes of Sakae's toys and baby kimonos, my grandmother's tea table that needs repair, an old mosquito net.  Half of the space is taken up by family stuff, the other half is Sakai's sculptures and paintings from another time, which I'd like to see out in the open air.  But where do we put them?  It's good to look through old things.  I found a box marked "Old Cookbooks."  I decided to take that back with me.  I wanted to see what cookbooks I put away. 

Before leaving Oxnard, we looked for a farmstand to buy some fresh produce.  Oxnard is mostly known for their strawberries fields.  Shortly after my family moved to LA from Tokyo in the early seventies, my parents took us to visit a strawberry farm that was owned by a Japanese American family in this area.  I could not believe the sheer size of the farm. They let us pick as many strawberries as we wanted.  Where we came from, strawberries were very expensive.  We only got strawberries on top of our birthday cake when we were lucky. Most of the time, we had canned peaches instead.  But here in America, it was strawberry fields forever.  That seemed incredibly promising.

We found several farm stands, selling the last strawberry crop of the season. The berries were still sweet and juicy. I bought a boxful for $15. The box was marked Fraises de Californie but these strawberries aren't going to France.

Besides strawberries, they had some beautiful pumpkins.  The owner had her foot in a cast but she got up to help me pick out a pumpkin.

When we got home, I opened the box of old cookbooks and found a couple that belonged to my mother. That made me happy.  I am cooking out of one tonight.   

The Oxnard pumpkin now sits at our doorstep.  Soon it will get a face.

My Quebecois friend Renne was just returning from her three weeks holiday in St. Irenee in Charlevois but when she heard that I was coming to Montreal, she invited me to stay with her.  It felt like the tail end of summer in Montreal but the leaves were starting to change colors.  I saw many Quebecois in sandles and t-shirts during the day. Though by early evening, it got nippy enough to wear the light coat I had brought from LA.

Renne's house is like an artist palatte. Her warm personality is reflected in the house. She is a very talented artist and custome designer with whom I worked on my last film Blindness.  We shot in several locations including Montevideo, San Paulo, Gwelth and Toronto - moving from one hemisphere to another.  The film was finished two years ago but we have remained good friends ever since.  

I didn't know Renne and I had a similar passion for pottery.  Her collection of old kitchen mixing bowls is magnificent.  She has one stacked on top of another which made me slightly nervous coming from earthquake prone city like LA and Tokyo but here in Montreal, the ground is as hard as rock, she doesn't have to worry.  Renne has broken and chipped a few pots here and there but she doesn't let that bother her too much.  I feel the same way.  My mother was someone who used old china to serve food in which made me appreciate and pay attention to the china when I was handling them. When one broke by accident, she would say, "Well, it was made from clay and now it has gone back to earth."  She didn't make a big fuss about it. 

WALKING AROUND OUTREMONT

On this visit, Renne played my Montreal tour guide. I had already explored the old city during my previous trips to the city so we stayed in the Outremont area.  The first call in the morning was to visit the local bakery that makes the best croissants in town. "It's the butter," Renne, said. True. Lots of it. My hands felt greasy after the first bite.  I could have easilly eaten two but I knew lunch was right around the corner so I stopped after one.  The bakery also makes marzipan and other sweet desserts that looked very tempting.

Cute marzipan sweets

After the bakery, we checked out another bakery that Montreal is known for -  bagels.  They are thin and chewy, and generously coated with toasted sesame seeds. A lot of the flavor is picked up in the wood burning oven.  I find they taste better than New York bagels.   I bought a half a dozen to take home to LA along with some local cream cheese.

Much of the work is done by hand.

The big wood burning oven 

We also  made a stop at the Cheese Shop - La Maison du Cheddar(here is the link) where we tried local Quebecois cheeses.  There is a map on the wall of the shop that shows 67 Quebecois dairy farms that produce cheeses.  I picked five varieties of cheddar cheeses for a Quebecois cheese tasting night I am going to do with my friends back in LA. After I paid the bill, the shop owner treated us to some fresh cheese curds which were made that morning.  He had plain, pesto and tomato pesto.  Renne and I loved the curd with pesto.

Chandelier with Cheese theme

Owner of Maison Du Cheddar - letting us try a piece of cheddar

He advised that I leave the cheeses out for an hour in room

temperature before serving.

The final shop we visited was an award winning cookware shop called Les Touilleurs (here is the Link).It is one of the finest cookware shops in Canada and for that matter in North America. They have elegant pots and pans,  kitchen towels, containers, and utencils.  Mostly European but they also carry handmade wooden utencils made by an artisan who is based in Quebec.  I own two of his spatulas.  I use them all the time.  This shop is defnitely worth a visit.  

THE QUEBECOIS LUNCH

We headed home for lunch at Renne's house.  She had brought back some smoked trout from Charlevois.   Renne's brother-in-law had gone fly fishing and caught these indigenous brook trout in the Malbaie River.  The Quebecois call this trout Truite Mauchete.  

They were about 6 inches in size. Not too big.  Renne said the smoked trout was smelly but it didn't bother me at all.  We could not figure out what kind of wood chips were used but that was part of the flavor.  Mesquite?  Here is a picture of the trout.

Renne and I,  we can talk for ever.  "It's like I just saw you yesterday," she said.  We talked about the racoon that comes to visit her house and the possum that lives in my neighborhood to films and our lives.  We each have a son, the same age, pursuing the same profession in law. I always enjoy hearing her talk about her son, Simon.  It puts a bright smile on her face.   We mothers love our children.

The tomatoes came from a farm stand in Charlevois and I picked the basil from Renne's balcony.  Even though Renne was seven months away from home working, she has good neighbors downstairs that kept her garden alive.  

Renne warned me that the trout was a bit on the bony side but being Japanese, it

didn't bother me a bit.  If it was a smaller fish, I would eat it from head to tail.

A 4 year old Cheddar cheese was served with the Montreal bagels.  I gobbled the bagels in no time. They were so good, you don't even need to toast them.

As with all French meals, we had a nice French Burgandy to go with the lunch and some grapes to nibble on at the end to clear our palate.  This was one of the loveliest and most relaxing end of summer lunches I had or shall I say first lunch of the Fall. Either way, I felt blessed.  Thanks to my Quebecois friend and Montreal. Next time I want to meet the rancoon.  A bientot!  

Becavin

The pictures of the buckwheat fields on the banner and the cow were taken in Brittany (the French say Bretagne) by my friend Caroline Forbes who is a photographer. Caroline sent me these pictures a few days ago because she knows about my wild dream - that I want to grow and mill my own buckwheat and make soba.  I wouldn't mind moving to Brittany to do just that.  Brittany is known for their buckwheat. The locals make a delicious buckwheat crepe called Breton Galette. Maybe they want to learn how to make soba, too. 

Caroline has the best of two worlds.  She  lives in London and has a farm house in Becavin in the heartland of Brittany.  To get to Brittany from London, she takes the overnight  ferry across the English channel to St. Malo and then drives South for another hour to Becavin. The whole of Brittany is a very special place, especially for a photographer - there is the ever changing tides of the emerald sea, the farms, the forests, the beautiful old villages dotted along the coast.  The climate is the most interesting part.  You can start the day with a sunny morning, which can then change into thunder and heavy showers during mid-day, sometimes even hail and snow, and then back again to being sunny in the late afternoon.  

One year, I rented her place for the whole summer.  I was there alone with my computer, cell phone and my suitcase full of books.  But what attracted me most the moment I got there was not what I brought from the city but what I saw  there - the wide open fields and the life in it.  The first evening in Becavin, I went for a long walk in the buckwheat fields. The young dairy cows were curious and followed me for awhile but they knew better to turn back.  I should have stayed with the herd but I kept exploring the bucolic life until I found myself lost in the middle of nowhere. No farm houses or roads in sight.   So what do I do?  I pick up my cell phone and call Caroline in London like she was going to jump on the ferry and come to the rescue.  Right.  It was approaching 10 pm. There was still some light out but if I didn't hurry, I would find myself in pitch darkness . Poor Caroline was so worried.  Somehow I felt fine though.  After another 3/4 of an hour of wandering, luck came my way. I saw in the near distance, the line of familiar trees and the Becavin chateau. I made it back to the farm house safe and sound. This experience didn't stop me from venturing out again the next day.  Crazy Japanese woman.  I managed fine for the rest of my stay in Becavin and even picked up some French. Caroline, who could not bare to leave me alone there, came out to spend a weekend with me. She took me to the best bakery that made a wonderful pain de campagne and to her favorite thrift shop where she always  finds treasures. She bought me a retro shirt for 1 Euro.  We cooked everyday. Caroline showed me how to make Breton Crepes stuffed with ham and cheese and many other wonderful dishes using local produce - coco beans, white asparagus, carrots, artichokes, oysters, mussels, etc. We ate well.  I didn't feel all alone when she left.  I befriended the farmer's old horse.  I kept myself busy in the garden.  At dusk, the bats flew around the fields looking for food.  Then at night, I watched the moon rise. The moon would hide in the clouds but then it would come out and  light the fields. I knew then that I had become part of the life in Becavin.  I only got through half of my books that summer but it didn't matter. I had my dream summer.

It is always comforting to come back to a familiar place to cook and eat. That's how I feel about Fernando and Cissa's apartment in Paris where I spent last spring.

Since then, their apartment has gone through a major makeover. The old kitchen is gone. Gutted and replaced with beautiful modern appliances.  Walls removed and repainted, old posts exposed, etc. It's amazing what fresh ideas, new cabinets and carpentry can do. The whole apartment is lofty and light.  

This summer, Fernando was in Paris with his family.  So was our friend Niv and there was me. Fernando invited us to come and cook. This is what we often did when we were shooting our last film in Canada.  It was our favorite passtime.

We went shopping at the Grand Epicerie - on Rue du Bac- the gourmet supermarket to die for.  We let our whims and what caught our eyes dictate what to cook. That's always the best.  At the La Gazetta, Niv had eaten  a fabulous fish the night before. He wanted to recreate the dish.  He said it was this delicate fillet that was served on a creamy bed of cauliflower puree and some arugula. Mmmm.  I was thinking more like sashimi or ceviche to start with and something a bit more simple like grilled lamb chops. But that's okay. I welcomed the challenge.   

We found a very nice fat sea bass at he Poisonnerie on Rue de Bac. There were going to be eight of us for dinner so we bought two medium size sea bash and asked for the fishmonger to make them into fillets.  At the Grand Epicerie,  we found a variety of fresh pasta in the Italian section.  So we picked up some vegetable, mushroom and tomato ravioli.  We decided to make the tomato sauce from scratch.  

We came up with the following menu:

Red radishes and carrots with fresh hand churned smoked butter (Bordier)  

Mushroom, mixed vegetables and cheese ravioli with tomato sauce and basil.  

Sauteed seabass served on a bed of stir fried arugula and 

julienned red peppers

Cauliflower puree  

Mixed greens and herbs with lemon dressing

Bread from Eric Kaizer

Strawberries, blueberries and currants with creme fraiche

Cheeses

and of course plenty of wine and a nice vintage champagne.  

We couldn't go wrong with these ingredients.

Lots to carry back to the apartment.  Niv was the master chef.  I started the tomato sauce for the ravioli. The sauce needed to cook for a few hours.  Fernando chopped garlic.  Caca peeled the carrots.  We all contributed our love and labor.  The Tomato sauce was slightly on the sweet side but we adjusted the flavor with chopped basil.  

For the Fish dish, Niv marinated the sea bass in some olive oil, sliced pickled lemon. He seasoned it with some salt and pepper.  Then Spencer remembered that the fish had a little dill in it.  So Niv used the dill from the green salad.  One herb can do a whole lot good to a fish..  We didn't have a blender for the cauliflower puree but Niv made it with an old  French press puree   we found in the cabinet.  It belonged to the former owner.  It took two people to assemble it together but we did.  He added some creme fraiche to the puree and seasoned it with salt and pepper.  

Niv, sliced some red and yellow pepers and pan fried them.   He put them aside. 

He took the sea bass out of the marinade and pan fried it in the same pan as the peppers.

To serve, He lay a small handful of argula on each plate.  The put a bed of creamy cauliflower puree.  Arranged some peppers on the side and then finally the sea bass on top.  The dish looked beautiful.

Basically, we won everyone over with the first course - the ravioli with fresh tomato sauce. Then the main fish course was served.  It was fantastic.  With some creme fraiche and chopped chives, the cauliflower puree tasted like a creamy cloud.  We were basically in heaven for the rest of the evening. Master chef at work serving the fish on the beautiful old Limoge plates.

Mmmmm so good!

At the end of the  evening, we promised each other that we will do this again.

A bientot!

French country window

\

The farmers market in Bastile is right near the Metro station.  Before leaving Paris, I wanted to get some cheese to take back to my family in Japan.  Cheese, as with wine, has become popular in Japan but since most cheeses are imported, they can be very expensive.  In the last five years, I have seen such a variety of cheeses in Tokyo but you buy them as slivers and I find it takes the taste and fun away from cheese eating.  I am ready to take back a half a dozen cheeses.  Bastille is one of the largest fresh produce markets in Paris.  I find the most serious French shoppers staring at the fish, picking out the best produce and talking to the vendors.  The fish looks excellent.  I find three or four cheese shops.  I buy the cheeses from the place that has the most traffic.  A couple of goat cheeses, a brie and a compte. I  wish I can stay longer at the market, buy some food and cook them right here in Paris.  But I have to leave.  I will have to save the cooking for next time.

]

So this week brings me to Paris. Yes, I am hopping around the world a lot this summer. Tokyo then Paris, then back to Tokyo again before I go home to Santa Monica. It's business combined with a little pleasure. When I travel to a place like France, food is almost always good. So I love eating out but since I will take a good home made meal anytime over a restaurant meal, I get very excited when somebody invites me to their house.  This time I got very lucky.

I was invited to Rudy and Brien Chelminski's home for lunch in Fontainbleau, which is about three quarters of an hour by train from Gare de Lyon in Paris. The Chelminskis are Americans who have lived in France for more than 30 years. Rudy is a journalist and Brien is a homemaker. Rudy has written several books on wine and French cuisine. So he always gtives me good insight on French culture and food. Their house sits right at the edge of the famous forest of Fontainbleau. I have visited them a dozen times. I always take the same 11 am-ish train and get there just in time for lunch. If it is warm, Brien sets the table outside and we eat in the beautiful garden.  Something is always blooming.  This time of the year, the hydrangeas dotted the garden in pink.  Today, it is a little cold so Brien set the table in the dining room. She is expecting two other guests. Her neighbors Joe and Benedictine who live across the street.

Every space in this house is used efficiently and reflects the Chelminski's artistic taste.  I love the kitchen.  It has a warm country feeling.  Whenever I am here, I feel like cooking.

      Brien painted the ceiling green.

All the pots and pans hang comfortably on the wall and they feel like they could be mine.

Rudy cooked a "more vegetables than egg frittata" - a recipe he found in the New York Times. The final garnish was chopped basil.  It was really more vegetables than egg. He used zuchinni, broccoli, red onions, peas.  The red onions made the frittata a little brownish in color but still, we all loved it a and there were very little left over.  It's nice to see a man cook.  I saw this happen in all three French kitchens I was invited to.  Which I think is a good thing.

  Everyone pitched in.

The table setting was very French.  There was five of us.  I was starving.

Dessert consisted of Brien's homemade apricot clauffouti and macarons from Pierre Herme.  I ate a lot of claffouti and macarons this month.  It started out with my sister's cherry claffouti in Tokyo, then Fran's cherry claffouti in Paris and Brien's apricot clafouti in Fountainbleau.  Fran said that Clafoutti is as homey as desserts come in France. It is so simple to make.  You can make it with crust or without.  I loved the claffouti with fresh apricots.  The classic claffouti is made with whole cherries, with the pit and all.  The pit adds flavor to the dish.  

Pierre Herme's macarons, the other dessert, were a big hit as always.  Pierre Herme worked at Le Notre, Fauchon, then at La Duree where he did a whole makeover of their pastries. He then opened his own open shops in Paris and Tokyo. I think his macarons, the variety and freshness of taste, are remarkable.  He even makes Yuzu and Wasabi flavors, which the Japanese clientele love.

MORE-VEGETABLE-THAN-EGG FRITTATA

From The New York Times - Mark Bittman

2 Tbls olve or or butter

1/2 onion, sliced

salt and ground pepper

4-6 cups of any chopped or sliced raw or barely cooked vegetables

1/4 cup fresh basil or parsely leaves, or 1 teaspoon chopped fresh tarragon or mint leaves, or any other herb

2-3 eggs

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional)

1. Put olive oil or butter in a skillet and turn heat to medium. When fat is hot, add onion, if using, and cook, sprinkling with salt and pepper, until it is soft, 3-5 minutes. Add vegetable, raise heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until they soften, from a couple of minutes for greens to 15 minutes for sliced potatoes.  Adjust heat so vegetbles brown a little without scorching.  (With precooked vegetables, just add them to onions and stir before proceeding.)

2. When vegetable are nearly done, turn heat to low and add herb.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are tender.

3. Meanwhile, beat eggs with some salt and pepper, along with cheese if you are using it. Pour over vegetables, distributing them evenly.  Cook undisturbed until eggs are barely set, 10 minutes or so; run pan under broiler for a  minute or 2 if top does not set.  Cut into wedges and serve hot, warm or a t room temperature.

Yield: 2-4 servings.

I spent the morning trying to deal with my camera which went into freeze mode. I was in a bit of panic as a result. It's funny, I used to do a lot of photograhy but then I stopped. Nearly twenty years later, I started taking pictures again and now the camera has become my contant companion. I can't imagine not taking pictures while in Tokyo. So I took my sick camera to Canon's repair center in Shinjuku. They told me to come back in three hours unless I heard back from them, which meant the problem would take more than a day to fix. I didn't get the call but when I went to pick the camera up, I found out that the camera underwent a major operation. They had to replace the entire digital brain board. "Was it a defected camera? " I asked the technician. "I just bought it in Los Angeles in May." As he wrapped the camera in plastic, he said to me, "Each camera is made by hand so sometimes these problems happen." I didn't expect him to admit to possible human error. I felt relieved in some ways, knowing that these machines are still handmade. What surprised me was they didn't charge me a Yen to fix it. No warranty, no receipt. Just the fact that it was one of their cameras was a good enough reason to give me good and free after care service. Sometimes, you need a nice break like this.

My camera was like new again. I took pictures on my way back to Shibuya - on the train I made my first.

Girl sleeping in crowded subway

I took more shots as I got off the train. People walk very fast in Tokyo. It is such a busy bustling city. I am fascinated by what I see. Because of the rain, my light is flat but it doesn't matter.

Young people still love to hang out in Shibuya as I did when I was a teenager. The bronze statue of Hachiko in front of the train station is a favorite rendezvous spot. The city could make this spot a little nicer, considering what this dog symbolizes to the Japanese people, which is loyalty. Story goes that Hachiko used to greet his master at the station everyday, even after the master died. Hachiko became a stray dog but he continued to show up at the station and wait for his master. People started taking notice of the big stray Akita and started feeding him. My 86 year old father who was a teenager at the time this story took place remembers Hachiko. He was a good dog. He is like my dog Ana. I am missing her a lot. I remembered how she was ready to get on the car to go to the airport with me. I can't wait to see her again. I am sure she is waiting for me.

Hachiko-the loyal dog statue at Shibuya station

Young people in Japan are so much bolder and adventurous with their clothes and hair than when I was growing up. My teenage years which dates back to the sixties was spent mostly in a navy blue uniform. My hair was neatly parted to the side with a comb. None of that messy look was permitted. It was only on Sundays that I got to wear street clothes but none of us dared to wear anything revealing. I remember a short red plaid dress that took me a lot of courage to wear out. Now, anything goes in Tokyo, especially Shibuya.

Shibuya Station

Hayato's origami

The 12 hour LA-Tokyo flight felt like it took forever even though I have done it countless times. I was not able to get much reading done this time like I usually do. The lightling was poor and I was distracted with so many thoughts. "This is a year of rethinking for many of us", my friend Russ was saying just the other day. Isn't it so true? In between my wandering mind, I ended up doing a movie marathon. I watched four in a row. Movies that I would not have paid to watch but they were up on the monitor. I started with an animated movie about a bride who turns into a giant and saves the planet earth from evil alien forces. Then I watched Dragon Ball, a video-game based film. This was a rip off of the Karate Kid. Then a Jennifer Anniston and Ben Affeck starring drama about young couples who have issues with their love life. Basically, it should have been something made for television. Then another drama about a high heeled corporate city girl who is transferred to a small town in America to reorganize a factory. I didn't find one film that contained a particularly original idea. Hollywood has been rehashing a lot lately. So much for movies. Then there was the

nflight food. I don't really have any high expectations but once I ate an exceptionally good lunch on a Brazilian flight from San Paulo to Rio. It was a simple plate of rice and beans with cooked greens. The dish was fresh and tasty, I could have eaten two and it wasn't just me that was raving about it. So I was curious what United had to offer. What I got was udon noodles with mixed vegetables. You had to search hard for vegetables. The noodles tasted like glue. The white wine, which I had to pay $6 for, was horribly sweet. The flight attendant offered to switch it to a red but it was equally undrinkable. I sound like a whiny traveller but I know they could do better. I shouldn't be because I had noone sitting next to me. The thing that matters most on these long distant flights is space. Once I got to Narita, the limousine bus to Shibuya came right away. It was muggy but cooler than I had expected. The rainy season was not over yet. I got to my parents' house in Shibuya before 7pm. . My nephew Hayato greeted me with a dimpled smile and helped me carry the suitcases up the steps. I felt the weight of the cheeses and the buckwheat pancake flour in the suitcase.  Everyone loved the souvenirs, the cheeses and the apricot butter are hits. My dad gave me a big hug. I kissed my mother who is in bed. We opened a bottle of red wine which my sister Fuyuko had saved for the evening. She made Tonkatsu - pork cutlet for dinner. The pork was very tasty. Hayato loves the fatty part. I caught up on my e mails. It's good to be in Tokyo, my other home.

     Sakae by the waterfall

    Bina and the waterfall

The weather was cloudy and temperatures were on the cool side. Sakae said this was pretty typical Portland weather.  It even drizzled the night before but that didn't seem to curb anyone's spirit.  Especially, mine because I finally made it to Portland. I hadn't seen my son in nearly 3 months. Coming from Los Angeles, I am glad I packed my light leather jacket. The first thing I wanted to do in Portland was to visit the farmers market. Sakae and his girlfriend, Binah, who both go to school in Portland, took me to the one nearby their apartment. It was a small market but there were plenty of locally grown produce and even live country music. Nice looking hazelnuts and walnuts. The three of us went wow! when we saw the fresh Italian garlic from Yakima Valley. We bought some of that. Strawberries were on sale but they were not as sweet as the ones I tasted from the farm stand in Washington. I got a little spoiled with the local farm produce on Lopez Island. I bought some asparagus which cost $6 for a fat bunch. Binah bought bags full of fresh peas from two different stands. Why two? She got the second bag of peas because they looked even better than the first. She made me laugh. As always, I bought way too much. That happens when I visit a farmers market. Binah said, "We'll eat it."

Fresh Italian Garlic from Yakima Valley