Japan: a photo gallery (II)

Another ten of my favorite photos from life here in Japan. This group starts at the beginning of 2010, the year Geordie and I started dating. I was less active in 2010 than I had been in 2009, but I still got to see a lot of wonderful things in Japan, and I had the added bonus of having Geordie for company.



Geordie and sheep at Hitsujiyama Park in Chichibu, March 2010.



Weeping sakura at the Daruma temple in Takasaki, April 2010.



Daibutsu at Kamakura, April 2010.



Kenroku-en in Kanazawa, May 2010.

Waterfall in Nikko, November 2010.

Geordie makes friends with a black lemur at the Nagasaki Bio-Park, Jaunary 2011.

Geordie (and Rabbit) and the deer at Nara Park, March 2011.

Windmill at Kasumigaura, May 2011.

Dancers at the summer Susono Awa-Odori Festival, August 2011.

Jizou memorial statuettes for deceased children
at Hasedera Jizou-do, October 2011.

Japan: a picture gallery (I)

I had another busy day today and didn't get much writing done. So, what I'm going to give you in this post are some of my favorite pictures from my life here in Japan. This week has been hard as Geordie and I say goodbye to this beautiful country we've come to love so much.

These are just the first ten of twenty pictures I want to post. I encourage you to click on the pictures to see larger versions - some of them are much better when they're bigger! Look for more in the next posting.


Let's start this off right: Mt. Fuji from Gotemba, March 2009.



A lion guardian at a shrine in Takayama, January 2009.



Weeping willow tree in Takayama, January 2009.



Sakura over a shrine in Utsunomiya, April 2009.

A huge statue of Kannon-sama in Takasaki, April 2009.

Wisteria at Matsumoto Castle, May 2009.

With Benni-sensei in Maebashi, during an autumn festival, October 2009.

Behind us is an omikoshi - a portable shrine - which is carried around
the town, presumably to show the god its domain (or to show the people
their local god). Benni-sensei and I were among the group of
shrine-carriers, and we were also honored by being asked to carry
for a short time the lanterns that led the way in front of the omikoshi.

Easily one of my best expriences in Japan.

Maple trees at Mt. Tsukuba, November 2009.

Tsurgua Castle in Aizu-Wakamatsu, New Year's Day 2010.

Meoto Iwa, the wedded rocks, in Ise, January 2010.

3rd Japanniversary

Oddly enough, last week - besides being the week I expected to have my daughter home with me and in my arms - also marks the end of my third year in Japan.

I am not the same person I was when I came to Japan three years ago. Even if things had gone as planned this year, I would still be a much different person. I embraced my role as a teacher and truly enjoyed my job for the first time. I furthered my horizons as a wide-eyed observer, taking in everything Japan had to offer and seeking more, always more. I had no expectations; I wanted only to experience and to enjoy. And I did, more so than I could ever have imagined.

I did not expect to fall in love. I did not expect to fall pregnant or get married. I did not expect to become a mother. These were not things that could be planned, and they were certainly not things I would have made plans for anyway. But if I were to go back and start anew, I would not give them up. I would not change them, even knowing how these three years in Japan would end. I would give anything to have Lauren alive and with me, but I would not want to give her up at all. Better to have her memory and the profound impact she has had on my life than to not have her at all. It is she who has changed me most, who made me a mother and, at the same time, deepened my love for Geordie as we walked the path toward parenthood together.

Though Geordie and I both continue to love Japan, neither of us feel that we can stay on after what has happened. We can't stay in Susono, and Geordie can't remain at his job here. It has been hard enough just being in this apartment and sensing how unchanged it is, how normal. We can't continue where we left off, waiting for Lauren to make her arrival and dreaming our hopes for the future. We need to be grounded and start again, rebuilding our lives and recovering from Lauren's sudden absence.

It's not the way I want to leave Japan. I had never given much thought to how I would leave Japan, but this isn't the way I want it to go. With Lauren, I thought we would be going when she was a couple years old, returning to the States to be closer to family, so that friends and relatives could be active in her life. I thought we would be going as a family, not with empty arms.

I still love Japan - I will always love Japan. One day, I think Geordie and I will end up back here; it is our hope that will happen. But for now, Japan is not for us. For myself, it is a time to look inward, to process all that has happened to me in the past three years and to ready myself for what is to come in the future. Japan gave me so many wonderful things, not the least of which being my husband and daughter. It also gave me confidence in myself and my abilities, it brought me job fulfillment and satisfaction, it showed me wonders and beauty that I could only have imagined, it introduced me to people who affected me deeply. It taught me much about myself and prepared me to welcome Geordie and Lauren into my life. Three years ago, Japan was exactly what I needed, and I will remember it as a place of magic and love. It is my treasure, and for a while, it was my home.

I hope that it might someday be my home again.

Kit-Kats: The Good

I have been a bad poster lately, but my greatest blogging sin has been neglecting to post my Kit Kat updates. I have over a dozen Kit Kats to introduce to the world (or the small amount of people who read this blog, whichever is more realistic), and so I've broken them down in three posts.

Behold, Part Primus: The Good. AKA, the Worth Buying, Hoarding, and Consuming at a Slow, Langorous and Enjoyable Pace.

First up is the kinako Kit Kat, which comes in both mini and BIG sizes. Kinako (きなこ) is soybean flour, made after the soybeans have been roasted. It's a little nutty in taste, comparable to not-so-salty peanut butter. There's a popular sweet treat called warabimochi that uses kinako - I've been told that in the Kansai area, it's sold from trucks like ice cream in the States, but I'm not sure how willing I am to believe it. Although, warabimochi is definitely delicious.

Anyway, as to the Kit Kat variety of kinako, it is also yummy, and I enjoyed it. It has a bit of an old-fashioned feel to it, almost nostalgic in a way. I imagine that it could be considered a comfort food of sorts. Most Japanese I've talked to about it absolutely love it and have fond memories of eating kinako sweets as children. They were all very pleased when I mentioned this Kit Kat.

This Kit Kat appears to be involved in the promotion of a concert or a band or something of the kind. I'm not entirely sure what, partly because I can't read most of it and partly because I was more interested in the flavor: sakuranbo (さくらんぼ), or cherry. As you can see from the box, the Kit Kat itself was a pretty pastel pink; it would be the perfect treat for a Breast Cancer Awareness function. If the packaging was different, of course. The flavor wasn't too powerful, just a subtle hint of cherry. I only saw this flavor in one convenient store, and I'm sorry I didn't buy more when I had the chance.

This is one of the most recent discoveries I've made in the ever-exciting world of Kit Kat flavors: mango pudding (マンゴ　プリン). I'm not a great fan of Kit Kats of amazing colors because they're white chocolate and therefore inferior, but I am enamored of the mango pudding's brilliant orange color. My camera did a poor job of capturing this wonderful shade of mango (with flash, without flash - it didn't matter). The taste is not so astounding, but it's yummy enough.

This is the remarkable ume soda (うめ　ソダ) flavor, which I had my doubts about. Not that I don't like ume soda, but it's not exactly something that you connect with Kit Kats. It has a somewhat bubbly feel to it, not unlike the effect of carbonation. The fizziness really made it that much tastier. It offset the unpleasantness of the whole white chocolate thing. This was another cheerfully colored Kit Kat, comparable to the green parts of the ume (plums) on the box. I fully intended to take a picture of the Kit Kat itself, but I forgot, and I haven't gotten around to buying another box.

This is a souvenir box of apple (りんご) Kit Kats, which I bought in Nagano. Apparently, Nagano-prefecture is somewhat famous for apples and grapes (see below - also, why, then are there no peanut Kit Kats in Chiba? Can I make requests?), so this is one of their omiyage sets. I adore apple Kit Kats. They taste so crisp and refreshing - just like apples! Okay, just like apples with chocolate, but there's nothing wrong with that.

This was another omiyage set from Nagano, flavored of the big purple grapes (ぶど) - not to be confused with those sissy little green "muscats from Alexandria." (need a refresher? they were in my first Kit Kat post) The muscat grape Kit Kat was made of white chocolate and mediocrity. There was nothing special about it. These, however, were milk chocolate and heavily scented and just downright marvelous. When a piece of chocolate makes you feel like you've just bitten into a juicy fruit, you know you have something special. This flavor has a firm spot in the top ten.

And thus concludes this portion of my Kit Kat update. Stay tuned for more.

P.S. to Heather (I know you're reading this): if you and the girls aren't practicing your kana, I'll be very disappointed!

how can you have a picnic without any sun?

Well, we managed it somehow.

Our school held a picnic on the 28th, and the sun never came out once. The forecast had called for a 60% chance of rain, but it didn't start until 4pm, at which point the picnic was coming to an end anyway. The clouds disappointed me a little, but everyone else seemed a little relieved by the weather.

They all thought I was kind of crazy to suggest a summer picnic anyway. Every day for the past three weeks, everyone has come in complaining about the heat. This has amused me a great deal. Because while it is somewhat hot and humid, it's nothing compared to a Florida summer. As I told some of my higher-level students, "Sure, it's hot. But it ain't *that* hot." As for the humidity, eh. There's not much wind unless it's raining, so everything's all hazy and a bit muggy. Until this week, the rainy season hasn't been all that impressive: it would rain maybe three days out of seven. Even this week, it's been more cloudy than rainy. The way people talked about it, I'd expected rain five days out of seven. But most people I've asked say this is normal. Well, everything's relative, isn't it?

For another thing, the sun isn't as strong here, but maybe that's just me too. Japanese women seem terrified of getting even a little sun - I've never seen so many cardigans and long-sleeved shirts worn in the summer (maybe *that's* why they're so hot!), and they wear these funky long and fingerless gloves and carry parasols. Also, lots of them wear not just pantyhose but leggings, which is downright crazy if you ask me.

But, I digress. Back to the picnic.

I wanted a picnic. 1: because I'd had little chance to hang out with most of my students, and I wanted to have a get-together to do that. 2: because I must find new ways of entertaining myself. 3: Izumiさん (our manager) is moving back to Sapporo. She refused to allow this to be a sayonara party, but I wanted something to let everyone chat with her once more before she left.

We had about 30 students show up, most of them mine. Several of our students live near a park near Shin-Moriya station, about a 15-minute bike ride to the school, and they suggested that we have the picnic there. We had everyone bring their own lunches, and Izumiさん and I brought some picnicky items like bubbles and frisbees and a couple of balls to toss around. One of my students brought a badminton set, and another student brought a larger ball so we could play soccer and dodgeball.

It really was a perfect set-up. We ate lunch first and then broke out the picnic toys. We had about ten kids there, and they had a blast with the bubbles and playing soccer with some of the adults. Some of my students had never played frisbee before, so I conducted a quick mini-lesson on the art of the frisbee. The previous English teacher also stopped by, which made a lot of the students happy because they don't often get a chance to see him even though he lives in Moriya. One of my extremely shy and quiet pre-teen girls kicked butt at dodgeball. And there were dogs - three dachshunds brought by a student who lives nearby. The adults fawned over the dogs more than the kids did.

The best thing for me was the park itself. In addition to a playground and tennis courts, it has a nice big lawn for groups such as our own. Also, it is grassy and not sandy (as it would be in Florida) and there were no ants in sight and it was all nice and soft. So the first thing I did upon arriving was take off my sandals and run around barefoot. The way my students reacted, you'd think they'd never seen a barefoot person before. I couldn't convince anybody else (except one of my kids students) to go barefoot with me, but they all thought it was "adorable." Some of them are still calling me the Barefoot Sensei. Even better was when I had to roll up the cuffs of my jeans because they were getting all dirty and I kept tripping on them. That sent Izumiさん into a fit of giggles. Of course I had to wash my feet when we got back to the school, but it was totally worth it. What's the point of summer if you can't go barefoot?

We got about three hours in before it started to rain. I had known it was going to rain eventually - I could smell it in the air - so this came as no surprise. Everybody (except me, apparently) was starting to wind down and needing a rest anyway, so it worked out. And nobody went away disappointed - everybody gave positive feedback and said they hoped we'd have another get-together in the future. I get the feeling an August picnic would not go over well, so I'm settling for September. This satisfied them.

Afterwards, Izumiさん, Mio先生, and I went out to karaoke to memorialize our last weekend as co-workers. That went beyond entertaining - both of them are good singers and they even sang English songs! (Usually, Benni先生 is the only one who does this with me.) We finished with a trio version of "Bridge Over Troubled Water."

[item of interest: Simon & Garfunkel are as popular as Queen and the Beatles here in Japan. S & G will are appearing in concert in Tokyo this weekend, and one of my students is actually skipping class to go to it. Some of my other students were disappointed that they couldn't go, either because of the cost of the tickets or the fact that they sold out almost immediately.]

And so, that was our Moriya summer picnic. I am now anxiously awaiting the main summer season, which will bring festivals and fireworks and other wonderful summery things. I'm especially hoping that I can make it up to Isesaki or Maebashi to hang out with my friends up there. Either way, summer is shaping up to be pretty awesome this year!

Rewind: Japanese Travel Journal: Hanami

[to note: date these pictures back to early April]

Sakura trees get a lot of praise and adulation in Japan, and it's easy to see why. Pictures can't capture the true majesty of a row of sakura trees heavy with blossoms, and it's near impossible to try to describe their intoxicating scent. For about two weeks in spring, Japanese social outings revolve around the life span of the cherry blossom, for good reason: walking down a sakura lane can't be much different from walking in paradise.

A very crowded paradise in some places, but a sweet-smelling and magical paradise nonetheless.

The act of viewing cherry blossoms is called hanami, which actually translates to "flower viewing" but seems to be reserved for sakura only. The basic purpose of hanami is to sit and look at blossoms. However, you don't just sit and look at blossoms - you also eat crazy festival foods, drink until your heart's content (or stomach's discontent, whichever hits you first), and hang out with your compadres. And should there be a karaoke machine just standing around and waiting for you to take the mike, then so much the better.

I saw a good amount of sakura this spring, and while I'm sorry that its season is so short-lived, I realize it's probably for the best. Society can only take so much sitting around and drinking before it starts to collapse. But the progression of the blossoms' lives is astounding. Sakura are only fully open for a very short time - they die quickly, sloughing down from the trees in pink and white waves. But they leave the sakura tree draped in a rich green canopy, the color of which is so vivid that it's a miracle in itself. I loved the blossoms, but the green leaves enamored me. Walking down sakura lanes became akin to walking through a hallway lined in velvet, so deep and lush that I lost track of the time as I stood and stared at the leaves. These leaves are what pushes the blossoms loose from the tree, breaking their tenuous hold on life, and I'm glad for it. They're not so pretty and cute, but they're stronger and more vibrant, lasting longer than the delicate flowers that let go of life just when it's beginning.

It's become a standard cliche - sakura blossoms trembling in the wind before separating from their branches, floating like airy boats before coming to a gentle rest on the ground - but it works because the experience is so moving. It's no wonder that sakura is a metaphor for life: so beautiful and brief, beginning with such great promise and ending with such swiftness, culminating in a bittersweet momento mori.

Japanese Travel Journal: Utsunomiya (宇都宮)

I am struggling to get updated here. For this installment, I present you with my trip to Utsunomiya.

This is the first time I saw anyone from Isesaki after I had moved to Matsudo. This is not so impressive as it sounds, because we all met in Utsunomiya 12 days after I moved. The way Benni-先生 greeted us, you'd think it was closer to 12 years.

We went to Utsunomiya for gyoza. I'm pretty sure I've already posted about my love for gyoza, and the Isesaki ladies wanted to foster this as much as possible. In addition, they also love gyoza, so that helped. I cannot understand why anyone would not love gyoza, but that's beside the point. We wanted to eat as much gyoza as possible. This turned out to be quite a lot. Also, the girls helped me pick out a watch while we waited for Benni先生 to show up. Akikoさん and Yukariさん helped me program it, because the instructions were all in Japanese. This made all of us very happy (not that the instructions were Japanese but that the three of us were able to get it sorted out).

We ate at three different places, though the third place was a combination of 5 restaurants and we could order from any of the menus. At the first two restaurants, we ordered a plate or two of gyoza and shared it amongst ourselves before moving on. The first restaurant was a tiny place where you ordered the food at a ticket machine, after which you presented the ticket to the waitress. Because there were seven of us, we had to split up, so Akikoさん, Yukariさん, and myself shared an order each of boiled and fried gyoza (the fried was better). After that, we slipped out to the place next door and ordered GIANT gyoza. The rest of the girls showed up just as we were finishing, which is why we had time to wait to program my watch.

Together, we all headed out to the third location, which was an awesome conglomeration of gyoza restaurants (Utsunomiya is famous for gyoza - there are upwards of two dozen restaurants specializing in this most awesome of foods, probably more). I think we ordered about seven plates of gyoza at this place, from three different menus. There was chiso (a basil-type herb) gyoza, crunchy gyoza, not-so-crunchy gyoza, shrimpy gyoza, spicy gyoza, salty gyoza - holy cats, there was a LOT of gyoza. Boy, were we stuffed. And to everyone's astonishment, Benni先生 polished off a bowl and a half of rice along with it, the half being what I couldn't eat.

[This is nothing - I once witnessed her eat a huge bowl of ramen, an order of gyoza, and THREE bowls of rice in one sitting. Her stomach is bottomless.]

After gorging ourselves on gyoza, we went off in search of other exciting things to do. We began by buying gyoza omiyage. Half of the ladies bought frozen gyoza to take home - complete with styrofoam cooler to transport them in. Then they bought me a cellphone strap of a little plastic plate of gyoza, which I've become a collector of (the cellphone straps, not the little plastic plates of gyoza). These ladies are so totally the awesome.

While wandering around Utsunomiya, we discovered a shrine in the middle of the city and because I love shrines, we immediately explored it. I like going to shrines with the ladies because they will explain things to me the best they can. Benni先生 either has no answer to my questions or ignores me entirely (in her defense, she's just naturally oblivious sometimes). Even if the ladies don't know the answers to my questions, they will do their best to figure it out or explain it somehow, even if it means translating something.

The cherry blossoms were nearing the end of their blooming stage, but they were still very beautiful and stunning. The wind blew gently that day, but it still scattered blossoms all through the air. They kept falling and falling, a shower of pink and white petals. There seemed to be no end to them.

With the sun going down, we decided it was time to end our gyoza adventure. We set a date for our next gathering (Nagano - Matsumoto Castle in May), and then they dropped me off at the train station. And thus ended our trip to Utsunomiya. Quite satisfying, I must say.

Japanese Trainspotting

Timing is everything. With careful planning and precise timing, you can see amazing things, so long as you know when and where to be. Everything runs on its own clock, and if you can synchronize with it, you can witness marvelous things.

Or, if you're lucky, you can stumble upon them at just the right moment. There's something magical about arriving just as the natural order of things is unfolding.

Twice since moving to Matsudo, I've left my apartment to discover a group of people gathered at a nearby railroad crossing. I live close to the tracks - they lie just across the street, parallel to a skinny creek lined with sakura trees. I'm used to the trains, but the people are unusual.

They are almost all men, and they all have cameras. Not your everyday handheld digital cameras but serious photography cameras, replete with lens attachments and tripods and whatever else may be needed for serious train photography. These men - there are seven or eight of them at the crossing, with more of them posted haphazardly along the sakura path - are ardently preparing for the moment of the perfect shot: adjusting their tripods for maximum stability, curling around the fence railing to get the best vantage point, clustering around around the edge of the path to get the clearest view. They are quiet and serious, focused on their work.

The crossing signal comes to life, and the actions of the photographers becomes more frantic as they make last-second preparations. Rumblings announces the train's approach, and then the group goes still, poised and ready to capture the moment.

The first time I witnessed this activity, the train had a vinyl banner spread across its front, declaring in Japanese and English that this was its Last Run. The second occurence provided no such insight to the importance of the event. Two sets of cars - one yellow, one blue - had been coupled, and nobody rode them; they carried only a small squadron of jumpsuited railway workers. Its signifigance remains a mystery to me.

To me, but not to the photographers. A symphony of snapping shutters erupts as the train comes closer, and then follows a scramble as the group reassembles to catch hasty photos of the train's backside.

And then the moment has passed. The photographers smile at each other and consult their cameras and compare pictures. This lasts only briefly, and then they pack up their things and head off in different directions. Within five minutes, the crossing is abandoned, once again an unimportant fixture in the Matsudo cityscape. You would never know that anything special had just happened here.

mild disappointment

I was supposed to get my internet hooked up today, but once again, the internet gods hate me and are making my life miserable. I'm not 100% what the internet guy was trying to tell me, but I'm certain that it was not good news. I think it can be done, but not before next week. He told me to call and set up another appointment for after May 5th.

While I miss talking to my parents and my SBFF, my greatest concern at the moment is that I'm going to miss the Kentucky Derby. For 17 years, the first Saturday of May has been a day of horse-racing devotion for me, the Derby being one of the few races that I still closely monitor. And, of course, Heather and I added new traditions to it, making it even more wonderful than it already is.

I'm not normally one to get all maudlin about skipping/missing/forgetting old traditions, but the Derby has always had a special place in my heart. I'm not even sure when I'm going to be able to find out the results or watch the race online. As yet, I haven't been able to think up a new Japanese-themed Derby Day tradition (having a Skype party with Heather was going to be about it, but that's out too). Eating basashi is the only horse-related thing I can come up with, and that just seems wrong.

Okay, not that I think eating basashi is wrong, because it is delicious and I would gladly eat it again. It just doesn't seem . . . appropriate for the Derby. Basashi being raw horse. Yes, I ate raw horse, and I enjoyed it. Don't be squeamish (you know who you are). The only thing I didn't like about it was the massive amount of garlic dumped on top of it, but that was easily removed and left just a hint of the garlicly flavor. But you see why I wouldn't want to add this to my Derby traditions. I'd be just as happy with a hot brown or a piece of grasshopper pie or even a super-sweet mint julep.

The only plus I see in this situation is that I won't have to get up at 5am to watch the race, and I was plenty willing to do that.

"there were vikings and boats and some plans for a furniture store"

To make a long and complicated story short, I adore IKEA. It is simply one of the greatest things that has ever existed.

So, I'm not much of a shopper. Unless it's a book store, I'm usually in-and-out when it comes to shopping. I don't linger. Spending two hours in a furniture store is not something I imagine myself doing, and yet, it happened today. I spent two hours in IKEA, and during most of that time, I was barely controlling rapture.

Yesterday, from the train, I noticed that there was an IKEA within easy walking distance of the Shim-Misato station, and I thought, 'I should totally go there sometime.' And then I thought, 'Hey, I need some stuff for my classroom - omg, I'm totally going there tomorrow.' And I did. And I bought some things for my room, but it was mostly stuff I needed: a clock, containers for my props, organizational stuff. I also bought a soft, soft pillow because I hate the two pillows I do have, and I'm hoping this one works better for me.

This does not fully describe how wonderful IKEA is. The showroom is amazing - I've been to furniture showrooms before, but there's something different about IKEA. It's more comfortable. You don't feel so bad throwing yourself into one of the chairs and wiggling around in it to get the feel of it. It's not invasive to go through drawers and cupboards and inspect everything. I've always felt that showrooms are too pristine to touch, to perfect to disturb. It's hard to imagine living in them. IKEA showrooms already feel lived in; it's easy to drift into the idea that this could be home.

It makes me wish my apartment was worth furnishing (it's not, by no means is it worth the time and effort, much less the money), because I would think nothing of going completely IKEA. I don't need anything else, but I'll probably go back every so often just to look around. And I so want to get one of those weird heart pillows with arms. It's so insane that it's awesome.

And thus I have had another super Japanese day. In a Swedish store. Go figure.

Japanese Travel Journal: Gotemba

The main reason I went to Gotemba was because the hostel in Hakone was full on Saturday night and I didn't want to end my vacation that early. I couldn't find another hotel in Hakone that I liked (and that wasn't full), so I turned my attention to Gotemba, which is about a half hour away from Hakone by bus. It's also closer to Fuji-san.

Having stayed in a hostel for two nights, I figured I deserved to splurge a little, so I settled on a beautiful, luxurious hotel called Auberge Blanche. The French influence is obvious even if you didn't know the name:

It definitely is a little reminiscent of a French chateau. Unsurprisingly, they take really good care of you at this hotel, and at no time did I feel unwelcome here. I felt a little out of place, considering that I arrived in jeans and a flannel shirt because it was pretty freaking cold, but the staff made me feel like I belonged there. I even got a nice, warm cup of chamomile tea as a welcome drink. My room was small but comfortable, and I had nothing to complain about.

The real reason I chose this hotel, though, was because of its restaurant, called Blanche. As you might guess, it's a French restaurant and without a doubt qualifies as gourmet. Half of the menu is available online, and it was the deciding factor. Three set meals are offered, but I ended up going with the a la carte menu because I wanted to pick and choose. Also, I did not want fish, and that was part of the set courses. It was an expensive dinner, but it was worth every penny.

• appetizer: pan-fried croquettes of black rice flavored with chestnut and stuffed with foie gras. I am a sucker for anything featuring foie gras, and this did not disappoint. It just melted in my mouth. This was also served with a red pepper mousse, which I thought would be strange and turned out to be fantastic.
• main course: thin strips of excellent beef in a Bordeaux sauce and a bit of bleu cheese, served with vegetables. Perfection. The beef was so tender that I could cut it with my fork. And no over-cooked vegetables here - they were still crisp and full of their natural flavor.
• dessert: raspberry sorbet served with fresh fruit and coffee. Heaven.
  

Breakfast was also a delight. First, Blanche has a wonderful view of Fuji-san, and the morning came clear and crisp. Fuji-san dominated the sky with all his glory. The food only heightened the experience. It was simple enough, starting with yogurt and fresh fruit. The main course was eggs cooked to preference (scrambled for me), bacon, and a green salad with herb vinagairette. Also, there was strong coffee, and a variety of breads. There were two highlights to this meal: the apple-carrot juice (I want to live in this juice, it is so bright and cheerful and full of win), and the homemade raspberry jam (so delicious that it almost brought me to tears - I have never tasted anything so perfect as this jam, a delicate balance of sweet and tart that cannot be matched).

I only tore myself away from the restaurant under much duress; also, I had to go and catch my bus. While waiting at the bus stop, I had another brilliant view of Fuji-san, so I snapped several parting shots. I present them to you now.

Next stop: Tokyo!