Cheap Eats Japan

Not gonna lie: Traveling in Japan is expensive. It's a wealthy country, goods and services are priced surprisingly consistently (so don't go holding your breath for bargain basement deals), and the exchange rate is most definitely NOT in your favor. Don't get me started on the exchange rate.

But eating in Japan: not expensive.  At least, not if you can content yourself with the Japanese equivalent of fast food.  

Now, I don't want to mislead you - we're still talking about spending $8-$15 a person here.  But there is a surprising diversity of options at that price point.  In fact, our love of street food and cheap eats while traveling reflects not so much our Yankee frugality (OK, maybe it does) as the thrill of cultural exploration.  

Breakfast noodles in a Tokyo back alley.

Noodles: Noodles are king. In Japan, one could eat noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner and still respect oneself in the morning. Noodles are ubiquitous, and they are diverse: both in type (udon, soba, ramen, somen) and in context - from the somewhat upscale to the very back alley.  

At the higher end are the soba and udon shops that make their own noodles.  These places tend to lay claim to historical pedigree and have extensive menus with an overwhelming set of options for what to have on, in or with your noodles.  

Take, for example, Ebistu, a noodle shop that has been around for 150 years, give or take, in the alpine town of Takayama:  

Ebitsu

Ebitsu's narrow interior includes a thick, battle-scarred wood counter and a few traditional tables set out on tatami mats (the kind where you have to remove your shoes before kneeling at the table or neatly folding your legs underneath it, skills we never quite mastered during our time in Japan).

We opted for the counter.

Ebistu is famous for its house-made soba noodles. All the other patrons were ordering cold soba noodles served on bamboo trays (zaru soba) with dipping sauce and spectacular looking tempura.  

It is a cardinal rule of foodie travel that one should always order what the locals order.  I don't know why we didn't.  But we still ended up with beautiful bowls of noodles in broth.

Me: The delicate house-made soba with grated naga-imo (mountain potato) and a raw quail egg. Which brings us to a tangent about textures: So we've all heard of the fifth Japanese taste, umami, but what I hadn't previously appreciated was the use of varying textures in Japanese cooking.  In particular, Japanese food often highlights a certain texture that Americans typically describe as slimy, snotty, or viscous (the closest food analogy we could think of was okra - you know, when it breaks down to that gluey mucus stage?). Indeed, it is telling that there appears to be no English word for this sort of texture that does not have an unappealing connotation.  Our loss.

The smooth yet ephemeral feel of these "slimy" foods on your tongue can send shivers down your spine - it's like satin made up of air.  In fact, this contrasting texture is a central component of sushi, and it may also be what inspires the post-modern gourmet's love of micro-foam. This was the texture of the quail egg and the grated naga-imo.  The latter in particular was surprisingly delicate, like a whispery and yet substantial foam - unlike anything I've eaten before. 

Jeff: Thicker and chewier udon with "mountain vegetables." I have long been aware that there are countless tropical fruits of which I have no intimate knowledge but which are mundane staples of people in other, sunnier countries.  Japan was my awakening that the same is true of vegetables.  We decided from a discussion with Taro that there aren't even adequate translations of what many of these vegetables are.  And the Japanese love vegetables, so (almost) every meal was like a voyage of vegetable discovery.  I felt like the Hiram Bingham of my own little culinary world.

But like I said, Ebitsu represents the high end of noodle establishments.  At the other end is the humble ramen, that every day comfort food. What makes a good ramen is its broth, which can range from clear stock to something akin to gravy.  

Ramen ticket machines and stand up bar: fast food, Japanese style.

Bare bone noodle shops will have you buy your meal ticket out front from a vending machine. By the time customers sit down, they have already ordered and paid, which allows the shops to move more customers through a smaller space.  Unless you read Japanese, you better hope the machine's buttons have pictures of what you're ordering - and even then, some deductive logic and a dose of luck will come in handy. Even more utilitarian? Ticket machines combined with just a stand up bar, a variation Jeff tried out at a train station between connections.  A fan was born.

Fair warning, though - noodles will also be some of your most forgettable meals in Japan, in part because they get a bit monotonous. Next up: the many variations of Japanese fried food.