Paresh and I have treated ourselves throughout this vacation to a number of souvenirs—me more than him, surprising nobody—but we’ve tried to manage our luggage space by leaving the acquisition of trinkets for friends and family to the end of the trip. That time that once seemed like a distant moment on the horizon in now upon us, and so there is no time like the present to make time for presents.
We sped off to fuel up on caffeine and calories at Swell Coffee Roasters—a repeated name from earlier in the blog, but this time a different location with a secondary title, Bloom, in Meguro. Not exactly keeping with the altruistically intended theme of the day, I treated myself to a selection of beans to take home and enjoy. Eager to let the artist work, I opted for a hot latte this time and was rewarded with very possibly the best one I’ve ever consumed and certainly the best I’ve visually beheld in person. It is clear that Swell takes their championship pedigree seriously when it comes to staff training, and as much as we baristas love the adage of “good art doesn’t mean good taste,” these people know what they are doing in both categories at a level I have never been able to emulate and can instead only admire.
I had chosen the beverages for the morning, so it was Paresh’s turn to choose an adventure site, and he managed a pretty remarkable pick for two Wisconsin boys in the wilds of Japan. Milk Land is a dairy company that celebrates all things milk- and cow-related from the Hokkaido region of Japan and also has a location marketing their goods in Tokyo a short bounce away from Bloom. It would be difficult to fault Milk Land’s design team for their commitment to the bit. The café is saturated with cow-themed decor, allowing guests to enjoy their tastings underneath a giant udder while seated on Holstein-patterned stools. We opted for the three-milk sampler tray that invites guests to taste their choice of different milks from around Japan, and while I am not here to report a change of all-time favorite, these were worthy contenders. We happily grabbed some lactose-filled goodies to bring home, glad to have partaken in Japan’s contributions to the dairy landscape but confident in Wisconsin’s abiding superiority. (Sorry, Hokkaido.)
I had remarked yesterday that I regretted that we hadn’t spent more energy seeking out mediocre food in Japan. To be clear, what I was referring to was the Japanese equivalents of the types of places where people regularly go for cheap, reliable, fast meals—definitely not a subset of culinary experiences we’ve yet tapped into here. We’ve been very lucky to eat at some incredible restaurants with very memorable food, but it’s difficult to see our track record as representative of the typical Japanese resident.
Our choice for lunch came down to a toss-up between Saizeriya and CoCo Ichiban, but the famed curry joint won the day largely due to the assurance of contactless ordering that we’ve come to covet here. It really can’t be said enough how mind-blowing it is what you can snag for $15 here, where an American equivalent would have been triple the cost. And while “mediocre” might have been our aim, it wouldn’t even be fair to use that adjective for our lunch. We could have happily eaten here any number of times on this trip with little regret.
Our streak of seeking out second-rate grub would end before it began. In the planning phases of our trip, we had decided that it would be shameful to leave Japan without at least one elevated sushi experience, so we had booked a fairly nice, counter-only omakase experience at Sushi Takeuchi in Daikanyama as a capstone dining experience to tie a bow on our adventures here. Paresh and I are both fledgling sushi enthusiasts with our fair share of dining experiences under our belts, but this is the first time either of us has participated in a high-echelon progressive meal in the homeland of sushi, so there were growing and learning pains involved, but most snafus are forgivable and forgettable given an adherence to respect and flexibility. Chef Takeuchi was clearly a studied master of his craft, and the uni hand roll with negitoro filling was, by miles, the single best thing we ate in all of Japan. I know we are both glad for the experience and the timing felt undeniably right. It was gratifying to realize that some of the culinary knowledge we’ve picked up during these two weeks came relevant during this meal. (I unfortunately do not have any photos of this dinner other than the exterior of the restaurant; I definitely felt hesitant to take photos in this environment and chose instead to remain very present during our 90-minute seating.)
We nightcapped our evening once again at Chill Labo, the nearby neighborhood sake bar, where bartenders Kai and Tom-Tom served up some delicious drinks and joined us in lively conversation in the perfect final night in Tokyo. As they had explained to us yesterday, Akasaka is primarily a business district, so the bar was far quieter on this Saturday night than it was the previous one, and we nearly had the place to ourselves. Chill Labo is the type of place I will legitimately miss when I am back in the States. We felt a genuine connection with the staff and clientele here, and we could have ended every night sipping sake at this counter. I can’t recommend it enough to any travelers looking for a cozy, low stress way to finish an evening or make some new friends in Japan.
I’m planning to use some of the long journey home to pen some wrap-up thoughts on Japan since it’s getting late here and the time for reflection has likely passed. So until then, I’m off for one last snooze before we head back over the Pacific.
Where the Waterfalls Mean Home 