Yanaka, Tokyo, Part I

Yanaka is a local neighborhood in Tokyo with a traditional Japanese ambience. My tour guide, Mari, introduced me to this area, and used her knowledge to give me an authentic Japanese experience. With the exception of a few Europeans, there aren't that many foreigners in the area, at least that was my experience when I visited. I talk about Yanaka in my book, The American Outsider, where Tessa and one of her activist friends, Akira, hang out. So, I will not get into too many details here.

This is a famous Himalayan cedar tree in Yanaka, planted when it was small by the original owner of Mikado bread store, about 90-100 years ago. Closed permanently, the shop is situated behind the tree. The tree was to be cut down to make room for a new development, but a neighborhood committee fought against it, and so, the tree stays with a sign on it, indicating that it is a protected tree.

There is a large cemetery in the area, and several temples. The grave markers have the name of the donors on them.

Ueno Sakuragi Atari—three traditional homes built in 1900s were renovated, and turned into businesses—Yanaka Beer Hall, Vaner Bakery, and OshiOlive.

OshiOlive sells olives, and other items, and balsamic or rice vinegar drinks served in schooners. We ordered ours here, and took them with us to the Beer Hall. Recently, a bunch of recipes popped up online, but these recipes are not as tasty as the drinks made at OshiOlive. I recommend the balsamic drink. Mari was kind enough to let me try hers. So good...

The food at Yanaka Beer Hall was yum. Our menu was in Japanese, and so, Mari ordered for us.

Mari was trying to describe the shrimp dish to me, and I thought that she was talking about the Agemochi. Ahijo is a Spanish dish—shrimp sautéed in olive oil, garlic, and red pepper—which I skipped and traded with Mari for some of the amazing tasting Konnyaku. (Apologies for the upside down video 😏).

Konnyaku (konjac jelly. It's the cubed Jelly looking dish) has zero calories, is flavorless, but with the right sauce, it tastes yum. Here is an online recipe (actually three recipes). 

Agemochi (the two round sticky things on a stick) is fried mochi with sweet and salty sauce, and nori seaweed added on top.

The servers and the kitchen staff were super nice, and allowed me to take their picture. Afterwards, we sat down on an outside bench, and had tea. I had so much fun, in fact, the entire day was incredible, and a learning experience of getting lost in time.

Kayaba Coffee is a popular place. It made it through WWII, but shut down after the owner passed away. It was renovated a few years later, keeping its traditional Japanese charm. It  serves breakfast, and lunch food, ice cream, drinks, cakes, tea, and gourmet coffee. Downstairs, there are western style tables and chairs, and upstairs you sit on the floor.

Yoshidaya liquor store (1910-1986) was turned into Shitamachi Museum Annex, across the street from Kayaba Coffee. There is no entrance fee. It has been revived to look like what one would find in a typical liquor store during the Meiji period—tatami mat, sake barrels and bottles, artifacts, and wooden doors and panels. 

Well, that's about it for now. Hope you enjoyed. Yanaka, part II, will be posted soon...

The Rain

"The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain," as Eliza Doolittle would tell you in the musical, My Fair Lady. As for me, I become more creative when it rains. My writing flows much better. Someone once told me that I live in the wrong city, and should perhaps move to Seattle. But I don't like rain that lasts for months.

I remember this one year in L.A, it flooded for weeks. I could hear the nonstop gushing of water throughout the day and night. You couldn't step outside without submerging your pants in at least two inches of water, and your socks getting drenched as the water penetrated your shoes. Oh yeah, most of us Angelinos don't own rain shoes. And never mind the high depression, and the psychological impact it had on everyone that year. You see, those of us living in L.A are spoiled with year-round sunshine.

But another way to look at the rain is that it waters, and cleanses everything like no other. The earth needs it, vegetation thrives on it, and buildings, homes, lights, and streets get a deep wash. Also, it's a reminder for people who have a roof over their head, to be grateful. A lot of unhoused people sleep under freeways in the cold, in crowded shelters, or in their cars, if they're lucky to have one.

So, don't fret. See if you can get creative when it rains. and remember that "the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain." 😃 

Berkeley

About six weeks ago, I visited my niece who is attending UC Berkeley, a 30-minute drive to San Francisco. Okay, the not so good is that the city is named after Bishop George Berkeley, a slave owner. Perhaps they will change the name someday. But today's Berkeley is far from being racist. 

What I love about this area is that it's a student town, which means books, education, light hearted people, fun, and activity. I don't think I ran into a single ill-tempered person while there.

My niece had a busy schedule, but we made it work. When I visit any place, I rarely get bored, and can always find ways to entertain myself. Berkeley is a walkable area, and so I wandered, visited bookstores, chatted with people, and sat at coffee shops to get some reading done.

On Saturday, I got to hang out with my niece. She recommended a breakfast place named Eggys. We got there early enough, so the line wasn't too bad.

This was one of the best breakfasts I had in a very longtime. Fresh food with quality ingredients, super hot Earl Grey brewed to perfection, and great service with a warm ambience.

If you visit Berkeley, this place is a must try. The detailed landscape gives it that relaxing homey vibes.

From there, we headed out to Berkeley Marina for the views and a nice walk. The Marina overlooks the San Francisco Bay and on a clear day, you can see the Golden Gate Bridge.

The waters were a bit choppy, and felt refreshing as it slammed against the barriers, and misted our faces and clothes.

On Sunday, I checked out Pegasus bookshop. This store has a large variety of books, and I do recommend. The staff are helpful, and knowledgeable. I bought Strangers On A Train by Patricia Highsmith, suggested by a kind, and generous employee. I haven't read it yet, but a friend of mine who has, says that it's really good.

My niece and I had a late lunch at a Persian restaurant named Alborz, and stopped by her school. The campus has lots of green areas, and benches where you can chill, think, study, or read for pleasure.

There is a variety of redwood, oak, eucalyptus, and pine trees, but it's the majestic redwood trees that will capture your attention and leave you in awe. 

Side Note:

 

1. Do not take the 5 freeway. It's faster, but not pleasant. There are a lot of trucks that go through it.

 

2. Leave as early possible, not much later than noon. A drive after dark on the freeways that get you from Berkeley to US 101 is like going through a black hole. I was basically driving blind, passing by what I assumed to be mountains and farmlands where there is nothing there to exit to, and escape. 

      a. I didn't see any visible stars or moon to help out, and the path often has two lanes, with few cars to shed some light. 

      b. Occasionally, you see lights from the opposite side, but it seems as though they are driving with their high beams which makes the visibility even worse (I normally don't have an issue with this, but I did on these roads). 

      c. In the left lane, you cannot see the cement divider, and in the right lane, you can fall into a ditch or hit something. I saw three police cars at different locations helping cars that had slid off the road due to poor visibility. 

3. Let me reiterate. I do not recommend leaving in the dark unless you have a death wish. I hope that someday Caltrans will fix this problem.

Halloween 2025

Step into the bloody path

A red moon crosses the skies

A vampire lurks in the dark

Run to escape the bloody fangs

 

Halloween Chills by: Denise M. Cocchiaro

On this night of spooks and gnomes

Of swooning leaves and cringing crones 

Of legends told from ear to ear

Of shrieking cats that grin and sneer

Over the hill and past the tree

A haunted house there said to be

With chill and mist to pierce your soul

And whispering winds to keep you cold

Heed the whispers straight from hell

To keep you safe from witchy spells

For through the night of devilish play

All who tread will rue the day 

Lessons learned

This weekend I went to San Diego for my cousin's wedding or not! I was told that the wedding party and guests would be staying at Rancho Bernardo Inn. This Inn is like a maze, and all the buildings look alike. Also, there are no elevators. You have to carry your luggage up several flights of stairs.

I notice that I forgot to bring my evening purse. As I try to find my way back to the lobby, I see other guests lost in the maze, going back and forth trying to find their way. A staff member informs me that they don't sell purses at their shop, and to go to their spa boutique. After walking for quite some time, another employee tells me that I have long ways to go, and that the place is really far. I give up because I need to get ready and leave.

I text my cousin's son, and tell him that there are a lot of parties here, but I don't see them. He tells me to Uber it to a winery which is 5 minutes from the Inn, and texts me the address. I follow the GPS, but there is nothing but a dead-end. When I text my cousin, he says, "that's so weird," and gives me the name of the winery. Again, google map takes me round and round, and brings me back to the same dead end. It turns out that my cousin gave me the wrong address because that address was the one to the next day's venue.

At this point, I'm thinking let's just forget it. I go purchase an evening bag for the next day, find a restaurant, grab dinner, and call it a night. The next day wasn't any better than Friday. 

My cousin and his mom tell me again to Uber it. The hotel concierge calls in a taxi, tells me that the area is new, and maps have no record of it. The taxi is late. It got lost, and cancelled the order. The valet steps in. They too cannot find the area on their map, but offer to have a car pick me up in 20-25 minutes. I told them never mind, I might as well just take my own car. I told the concierge what difference does it make whether I drive my own car, Uber it, take a taxi, take a horse or a donkey. The point is that this place is not on the map. She agrees.

Once again, I find myself back in the same place. Google map tells me in .3 miles turn right. But how? I cannot go through. On my left, there is a black gate. A truck carrying construction things pulls out of there, and disappears. I take pictures of the area, and send it to both of my cousins. Neither one responds. 

I turn around, go down a bit, and turn left through a neighborhood, thinking perhaps I can find the street because the online wedding instruction said: Go to the house, a shuttle will pick you up, and take you to the venue. 

I see a lady watering her lawn, and her daughter is with her. I ask them if they recognize the name of the street. The daughter looks it up on her phone, and tells me that her apple map shows no such a place exists. A search on MapQuest gives the same result.

At this point, I'm really frustrated, and hungry because with the exception of a small latte, I hadn't eaten all day. So, I leave the area, drive back, find Burger lounge by accident, and order a quinoa burger. 

My cousin's son texts me and says, "Oh, just go through the gate on the left." I'm like, what?! That gate is not even on the street named on the invitation. It's on a completely different street. Also, not only you're responding an hour later, but you couldn't tell me this yesterday? 

I eat, go back to my room, change into my PJs, remove my makeup, brush my teeth, and make plans for the next day with an old friend who lives in Irvine. Three hours later, I get a text from my cousin's mom. She says the same thing as her son.

In the past, things like this would have bothered me. Not this time. I mean, I was disappointed, but after a little while, I think what happened was unimportant. I ask myself what lesson did you learn from this experience? My cousins' shortcoming—they don't care about their guests or their family. Things did not have to turn out this way. 

All they needed to do was to put the name of the correct street with instructions on their online invitation: when you hit a dead end, ignore the GPS, turn left, and go  through a black gate. But they couldn't be bothered with this tiny detail. They couldn't care less about a close family member who spent a lot of time getting ready for this wedding, drove through three hours of traffic, and was given the run around.

This is not the first time that they have done me wrong, and I have always let it go. But this time, they have crossed the line, and I'm cutting them, and anyone connected to them out of my life. Lessons learned...

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to make something happen, life has a different plan, and you just have to go with it. For whatever reason, I was not supposed to be at this wedding. I enjoyed having dinner on my own. And the next day wasn't so bad either once I got over my frustration. Sunday was the best out of all three days because I got to see old family friends on my way back. I ended up doing exactly what I was meant to do. Again, lessons learned...

  

Hans Christian Anderson Museum

On my way over to Berkeley, I stopped by Solvang. I had been there before, but never got around to see the Hans Christian Anderson Museum.

The museum is free, and to get there, you need to enter The Book Loft, and climb a set of stairs. They may have an elevator, if you have a bad knee. I didn't look. Call before you go.

It's a quiet, quaint museum with the smell of old books, and an ambience of a petit library.

He wanted to be an actor, and join the Royal Theater in Copenhagen, but when he didn't qualify, he took on writing.

One of his hobbies was papercutting, and he used it to portray his characters in his stories, particularly to children during his book readings.

A scale model of Anderson's boyhood home in Odense Denmark, designed by Carl Jacobsen.

In the 1830s, he started to achieve recognition, but he had a troubled life—pulling himself out of poverty through hard work. Hans' first book in 1822, Youthful Attempts, was written under his pen name—Villiam Christian Walter.

He often felt insecure, and like an outsider because of his lanky looks, and impoverished background. Although the museum only showed his infatuation with women, I did a bit of research on him, and found articles about his confusion about his sexual orientation as he fell in love with both men, and women. He often felt lonely with a desire to find love.

No matter what his diaries and biographies say about him, he was an accomplished writer with many talents, and deserves high recognition in history. Not all of his struggles were unique to him because writing is lonely work. And let's be honest. Writers are outsiders. They're not supposed to fit in. They see the world through a different lens. So, if you're ever in Solvang, do check out The Book Loft, and the Hans Christian Anderson Museum. It's worth a visit, especially if you work in the writing world.