Review: A Hanukkah Carol, or Gelt Trip! The Musical, at Round House Theatre
So for something completely different from all those Nutcrackers and Hallelujahs this season, Round House presents a mash-up of Dickens, Fiddler on the Roof, and wised-up Millennial humor – and it’s hilarious.
Right away we know we’re in for amusement, when a line from Fiddler is quoted (to knowing chuckles from the audience). But wait! A real fiddler shows up! And, we’re off!
The plot echoes A Christmas Carol’s structure – we follow the heroine, the self-involved social influencer Chava Kanipshin, through the visitations of the three ghosts to ultimate redemption – but with Jewish and social media mashups. One ghost is a parody of Santa Claus, in a blue robe; one a Maccabee, complete with shofar; and one seems to be a mechanized Spirit of the Internet puppet. That last one may need some more work.
But don’t worry – if there are a few spots that could use a little more development, another song and/or dance number will be right along to keep our Spirits high. The cast puts their all into it; most play several parts and must be exhausted by the end of the night. The energy level is exhilarating. Two outstanding examples: a glittery drag turn by Kit Krull, and Katrina Michaels as the Dickensian Orphan.
Not that everybody will get all the jokes as they go flying by – most of the audience when I saw it tended toward Jewish boomers – but they came fast enough as not to matter. Still, it helped to have my daughter explain why she laughed at the “Big Dickens Energy” line (it’s an internet meme, Mom).
The Round House is getting right into the spirit of the holiday. The lobby is decorated with a blue and white paper chain above a station where the audience is invited to guess the number of miniature dreidels in a big glass container to win free tickets to the next production.
The Fourth Wall Bar & Café is featuring several specialty cocktails in honor of the production: the Golden Gelt Gimlet, the PegaSpritz (it’s blue), the Hanukkah Hot Toddy, and A Light in the Dark. We tried the last, made with allspice Drambuie, bourbon, lime juice, and simple syrup. It’s appropriately festive.
There’s also beef brisket on offer, served with a potato latke, dill sour cream, and apple sauce. Very Hanukkah.
And, hanging out near the dreidels, two audience members who had gotten right into the spirit. Turns out they had reason to kvell – they were the playwright’s parents!
Recently, the Washington Post ranked the top 20 major art museums in America. The National Gallery of Art was listed as #3. A complementary article ranked the top 10 small art museums; the Phillips Collection came in at #1. How great is it to have both of these in the neighborhood? (Not that the Post was locally biased at all!)
Coincidentally (or maybe not), both museums have terrific new exhibitions. The NGA’s blockbuster is showcasing Impressionists – everybody’s favorite painting school – and the Phillips has an intriguing set of artworks drawn completely from their permanent collection, which they have arranged in juxtaposition to one another: a series of “conversations” highlighting relationships of style and influence.
Seeing both of these invites comparisons of scale and volition. The NGA’s show has garnered attention from major outlets and lots of accolades, but the Phillips, though less ambitious, has its own pleasures. And, the NGA has an extra added attraction which, as a food writer, I find particularly welcome.
Quite An Impression at the NGA: Paris 1874: The Impressionist Moment
Manet! Monet! Morisot! Renoir! Cézanne! Degas! Just being in proximity to all these immortal names induces goosebumps. Seldom have so many famous French (and one English) painters been gathered together before – at least not since the event which this exhibit celebrates.
In 1874, France was reeling from losing the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune uprising, yet it was the site of two contrasting art exhibits: one which hewed to the old themes of realistic (if heightened) representation of religious, historic, and pastoral scenes (the Paris Salon), and one which explored new ways of seeing, interacting, and relating art to the natural and human worlds (Société Anonyme des Artistes Peintres, Sculpteurs, Graveurs, etc.).
The Impressionist Moment includes several of the pictures exhibited at the official Salon to contrast their formalist style to those of the Société. There is even one which reproduces a scene in the Salon, including some of the paintings in the background. The NGA tried to track down all of these and borrow them to hang next to “Le Salon de 1874,” by Camille Cabaillot-Lassalle, but in vain. How meta would that have been?
But there are plenty of marvels here nonetheless. Here’s Manet’s “The Railway,” a comment on modernity’s intrusion into the city’s life, and just charming with it. There’s a wall with three scenes of life at the Opera, Renoir and Manet surrounding an equally fetching picture by a less well-known woman, Eva Gonzalès: an example of the curators’ effort to include female artists at the same level as the many, many more men.
And, hard to miss, the wonderful scene of “The Luncheon” by Monet. The large format, reserved by the art establishment of the Salon for important historical subjects, here is designed to subvert that tradition, and invites the viewer into the picture as it foregrounds the dishes on the family table.
There have been many articles written about this exhibit, so I will just say: go see it! It will be at the NGA through January 19, 2025.
And More Good News
The NGA has brought back a welcome tradition of their own, that of matching the menus in their cafes to the current exhibit. As displayed in the press opening event, one can now order interpretations of French classic dishes in the Garden Café and Cascades Café. We enjoyed samples of Rustic Ratatouille Pastry, Tuna Steak Tartare, L’opera Cake, Napoleon Cake, and Franc Perry.
Mahmood Ali, Executive Chef for Sodexho, which supplies the food service for the NGA, assured me that the program of menu-matching would continue into the future. Bon Appetit!
Artists In Museums, Very Talky:Breaking It Down: Conversations From the Vault
In contrast to the Impressionist show at the NGA, the Phillips Collection has looked inward for a choice assemblage of pieces from its own holdings. The triumph of curation lies in the juxtaposition of works in conversation with others, some in ways that make instant sense, others less intuitive. The fun lies in winkling out relationships.
I was immediately charmed as Associate Curator Renee Maurer introduced the exhibit standing in front of a quilt (quilting is my hobby).
The painting behind her is by Sam Gilliam. The Phillips owns 19 Gilliams. He had his first one-person show there, and it launched his career. The quilt, “Bricklayer,” is by Lucy T. Pettway, a Gee’s Bend quilter. Gilliam owns another quilt by Pettway. Gilliam is known for his experiments in creating unexpected results by crumpling painted canvas and letting it dry, and for playful ways of draping unstretched canvases in ways that emphasize the fabric.
Walking through the exhibit affords many opportunities to construct relationships and influences among artists. In the “Evolving Still Life” section, I found (trust me to find the food images) a Sharon Core chromogenic print made in 2009 evocative of Old Master still lifes. The artist’s statement reveals the astonishing amount of effort concentrated in this image: “…I grew all the fruits and vegetables in order to control size, scale and the parts of the plants I wanted to photograph…” Not to mention controlling the lighting, subject matter, and camera type.
Among the many Braques in the exhibit, to my mind the most striking is “The Round Table.” It’s hung near Cezanne’s “Ginger Pot with Pomegranate and Pears,” making it easy to compare each artist’s juggling the variations of volume, shape, and surface of common subjects.
The exhibit is full of these happy not-so-accidents. Go see it with someone you can argue and extrapolate with. Interactivity is half the fun!
I’m a sucker for revolving sushi restaurants, so when Kura opened in Rockville three of us went for lunch. This turned out to not be the ideal number, but we coped.
Kura is set up for two group sizes: single diners, with seating at a long bar, or sets of four, which fit nicely into the booths. Here’s the clincher: there are two pieces of sushi on most plates passing by on the belt. This meant a series of decisions and negotiations each time we took one off, but we managed to work it out.
Kura has so much high-tech razzle going on that it’s hard for this old boomer and her friends to negotiate, but fortunately, a helpful human is assigned to each party to guide the perplexed. One orders drinks and special dishes by touch screen. Drinks and wasabi are delivered by a precious little robot. Special orders arrive directly to the correct booth by a supplemental conveyor belt above eye-level that zips along much faster than the main belt, and tends to startle the unaware. (“What was that? A bird, a plane? No, it’s super-sushi!”)
And as if the fish and tech weren’t enough to keep you entertained, there are rewards when your party deposits five, ten, and fifteen empty plates in the waste slot. Little videos play on your order screen for the first two, but for the Big Fifteen, a free toy is dispensed automatically by an outsized gumball machine mounted over your table. Fun!
And how’s the fish? Tasty. Sufficient. Slightly expensive but not outrageously so for lunch ($30.00 before tip for each of us, with no special orders). Kura’s selection contains nothing that would repulse the timid diner, assuming one is comfortable with eating raw fish – and in the 21st century, who isn’t? The adventurous eater (me) will be a little disappointed. Octopus and eel are as exotic as it gets. I did manage to snag the rare portion of ikura. (Kura also has a selection of noodles and cooked dishes, which we assumed are for said hapless uncomfortable one dragged there by a pitiless significant-other.)
Saving the Best for Last
And now for the cherry on the sundae: Kura’s restrooms are equipped with Japanese toilets! Yes, reader, one is greeted upon entry to the one-holer by a self-raising seat; one sits down to find it heated; one is briefly befuddled by the series of buttons labelled in brusque single words; and finally, one is grateful for the cheat-sheet posted on the wall. Built-in bidet! Warm-air drier! Temperature and pressure controls! One thing missing, which I remember from my experience of public toilets in Japan: no selection of white noise to mask your private “business” (see Step 1). Superfluous in a one-holer, but so much fun!
Here is a video I found online from the manufacturer. If you visit Kura, you can go prepared.
Note: Many of the pictures in this post were supplied by my friends Carolyn and Jim. Thanks, guys!
Kura Revolving Sushi Bar, 12266 Rockville Pike, Rockville, MD 20852. Also locations in DC, Virginia, and points North.
Another entry in the continuing but irregular series, “Three Odd Things!”
Pre-Painted Pumpkins
I’ve noticed an increase in pumpkin painting activities for kids at fall festivals and such events in the last few years. So much less messy than pumpkin carving! But now a new economic opportunity has presented itself: pre-painted pumpkins.
Yes folks, you, too, can purchase a mini-pumpkin with a value-added decal already applied. They come in many themes from slightly spooky to downright cute. Some have text instead of pictures (“Sweater Weather,” “Fall in Love,” “Hey, Pumpkin!”), and there is also a line of Día de los Muertos pumpkins, some on (appropriately) white “ghost” pumpkins.
Starbucks Saucers (And Not For Coffee)
Starbucks’ latest line of seasonal cups has a flying saucer theme. Among the motifs of colored leaves and fall fruit (pears and, yes, of course, pumpkins), appears an airborne saucer poised to beam up the unlucky Earthling below. And to top it off, it sports a straw with a three-dimensional flying (hovering?) saucer. I was almost tempted to buy one, but I have plenty of Starbucks schlock already.
Harris Hedgehog Homophone
We were strolling down a street in Friendship Heights last week and spotted this sign and sweet little tableau in a front yard.
Now there’s a mystery! A little Google-noodling turned up a clue. There’s a Harris family crest with three hedgehogs on it. This blog page has a discussion:
“…the old name for hedgehogs was ‘herries’. If you listen, it sounds like Harris. I also think this was used as a sort of pun on the name.”
So my suspicion is that a family named Harris lives in that house, with a neat election tie-in.
While researching the Fringe, I discovered another event in Edinburgh that gave me a severe case of FOMO. The Edinburgh International Book Festival is billed as “the world-leading festival of words, literature, and ideas… the largest public celebration of the written word in the world, bringing together over 500 events with the most exciting writers and thinkers on the planet to ignite imaginations, foster human connection, and challenge the status quo.” Well, how could I resist that?
The EIBF’s footprint and visibility are much smaller than the Fringe’s. It takes place at the Edinburgh Futures Institute, on the campus of the University of Edinburgh, in a lovely ivy-covered building and the adjacent lawn. I found a suitably food-oriented event, Asma Khan In Conversation. It took place in a temporary building erected for the EIBF, the Salon Perdue.
And, bonus! Here’s where I learned about a brand-new-to-me phenomenon: the Spiegeltent, a touring performance venue, which from the outside looks as if it should house a carousel. Follow this link and you will learn that these pavilions were first made during the early 20th century to house dance halls and similar pleasurable events. It certainly felt like a magical space!
Another temporary structure held a Waterstone’s bookstore. It had the usual sections, with one new to me.
“Hell is Cambridge in Winter”
Asma Khan is the owner and chef of Darjeeling Express, a world-famous London restaurant. When she followed her husband to Britain after an arranged marriage, she couldn’t cook and had no intention of making a career of cooking Indian comfort food. Yet, she has supported so many women in her kitchen and abroad that she has been recognized as one of TIME magazine’s Most Influential People in the World in 2024.
Feeling cold and homesick in Cambridge drove her to ask an aunt to teach her to cook. This led to hosting supper clubs in her home, which outgrew both the premises and her husband’s patience. (This was after she earned a PhD in British Constitutional Law.) When she opened Darjeeling Express, she employed Indian home cooks and “second daughters;” she knew (because she is one) that these women are culturally denigrated for the sole reason that they were not born boys.
She contends that Indian restaurant food in the diaspora bears no relationship to what Indians eat at home. This is because restaurants are run by men who make up the food! The staff at Darjeeling Express work in a kitchen with no hierarchy. Everyone gets paid the same.
When Netflix’s Chef’s Table filmed the segment on her restaurant, she was the only chef in the series who asked to show her team. She took the opportunity to speak out about worldwide injustice to women. She has gone on to organize a café, run by women, in a Yazidi refugee camp. She hopes to do the same in a Rohingya camp in Bangladesh.
Hearing her made me think about planning a trip to London just to eat at her restaurant. Meanwhile, I will have to be content with her cookbook: Ammu: Indian Home Cooking to Nourish Your Soul, Interlink Books, 2022.
We did a day-trip to Edinburgh after our last Scottish Worldcon in 2005. It was not enough time in that town. We planned for three days on this trip, and it was still not enough (but considering the cost of hotel rooms during Fringe season, too much). We picked a Travelodge near the Royal Mile, basic but adequate. It supplied a full English breakfast along with the requisite cereal, fruit, pancakes, etc., but no haggis. Is it unreasonable to expect haggis for breakfast? I remember having it in 2005, but that was a different hotel chain. We did find a way to assuage the craving, though.
Edinburgh was a study in contrasts to our experience of Glasgow. In the latter, we spent most of our time in the Clyde Waterfront Regeneration area, redeveloped from the old docks in the last forty or so years, without getting a sense of history. Edinburgh was nothing but historic! And the narrow streets paved with cobblestones were very hard on the feet. Nevertheless, we put in our fair share of walking to Fringe venues – but for one, we took a taxi to Leith.
The Fringe and the Fodder
Whisky and Witches was billed as an “immersive, theatrical whisky tasting” presented in the cellar of the Mother Superior bar. Leith is an arty, hipster area of Edinburgh – the main street, Leith Walk, is lined with restaurants, bars, creative repurposed secondhand stores, and art galleries. The Dog House bar had a neon sign advising, “Nae Bams.” Research revealed it translates roughly to “No idiots.”
The ambiance in the Superior cellar was appropriately spooky, decorated with many small lights and whisky bottles. We were treated to a tasting of five whiskies, some very old and rare, intermingled with folkloric stories and songs performed by Jane Ross and Christine Kammerer, tracing the history of distilling, especially by women, and why the mystery and connection to the natural world led some to be suspected of witchcraft. It was an effective fusion of entertainment for all the senses.
We got to Leith early for the show, thinking we would find something to eat there first. And, darned if we didn’t happen across a bao shop just around the corner! Steam Bunny is a hole-in-the-wall offering eight kinds (plus a special) of homemade bao including haggis (!) with cheddar and crispy onions. The others are a mix of traditional and trendy. We went with the chicken and mango, and the haggis.
We also had a very pleasant lunch at a restaurant called Eve, in a little courtyard seating area, away from the crowds on the Royal Mile. Blueberry pancakes and egg-and-bacon, much nicer than the steam-table breakfast versions at the hotel.
A Near Miss
Walking down Princes Street, a major shopping street, on our way home from seeing Into The Woods (a fabulous production by the MA/MFA students of the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art), we noticed a sign for the Willow Tea Room. Now, I have a happy memory of tea at an establishment of the same name the last time we were in Scotland, but I could have sworn it was in Glasgow.
On inquiry, the mystery was solved: there are Willow Tea Rooms in both cities. Both are filled with fittings based on the interior designs of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, but there’s one thing the Edinburgh establishment has over Glasgow: a killer view of the castle.
But alas, they close at 5:30, and we were too late in the day to repeat our previous experience. And they had haggis on the breakfast (and lunch) menu!
Oh, well. Our third show was a stand-up turn by Riki Lindhome, an actress, comedian, and songwriter, in the major Fringe venue called Pleasance. Another overheated scene, it crams maybe a dozen performance spaces around a central courtyard full of food stalls and picnic tables. A good place to grab a bite or a drink before or after your show, and fabulous for people-watching.
This is the story of our journey to Scotland from the foodie perspective. A longer report focusing on the World Science Fiction Convention in Glasgow and the Edinburgh Fringe Festival will appear in a future issue of SFRevu. Meanwhile, here is how we ate and drank our way from Reykjavik to Glasgow to Edinburgh (and back), in three posts.
The Dogs of Iceland
A long layover at the Keflavik airport allowed us to renew acquaintance with Icelandic hot dogs. There is a stand there recreating the original Bæjarins beztu (“The Bezt in Town”) stand in the middle of Reykjavik. It’s not the only source, but possibly the most well-known. Icelandic dogs are not only unique for being made with lamb, but also for what goes with: both raw and crispy fried onions, remoulade sauce, ketchup, and Icelandic mustard (pylsusinnep). I had forgotten how good they were.
Adventures In Glasgow
Most of our time in Glasgow was spent at the Scottish Exhibition Campus (SEC) attending the 82nd World Science Fiction Convention, aka Glasgow 2024: A Worldcon for Our Futures. We rented a small house just across the Clyde from the SEC, so missed out on hotel breakfasts (but we made up for that in Edinburgh).
We had dinner one night with old friends at an Italian restaurant not far from the SEC. The Villa Toscana’s food seemed lifted from the last century (but not in a bad way), and it was there I discovered the joy of adding lime to ginger beer. How have I not encountered that combination before? It’s a life-changing revelation.
As for drinking in general, the Scots lean into their alcohol just as seriously as the Irish, as we noticed during our trip to Dublin in 2019 for that Worldcon! The permanent bar in the Crowne Royal Hotel adjacent to the SEC; one in the SEC Centre; and the real ale bar, purpose-built for the con in the Crowne Royal, and dubbed The Fan and Fishlifter in honor of the fan guest of honor, were all hopping.
The con created their own bespoke gin, but it was sold out before the con started. I didn’t even get a taste. The bespoke tartan was, likewise, tasty (ok, tasteful) but unavailable. That’ll teach me to think ahead!
All was not lost, however. We were invited to a private party at an Indian curry house, Mother India. While the food was very good, the bottled drinks proved remarkable. I can report that Peacock Cider with Mango and (yes!) Lime is excellent. So is Fentiman’s Rose Lemonade, which I think I’ve seen in the US.
Mother India is dedicated to recreating the atmosphere of the Raj, especially in their second-floor dining space. Candelabra on the tables, elaborate wall decorations and exotic lighting work hard for that effect. But the loo brought it home: reproductions of Victorian plumbing fixtures went a little too far IMHO. The wall-mounted toilet tanks looked a little scary. Fortunately, they worked with 21st century efficiency!
And speaking of this century, I made a special trip to the Glasgow Science Centre for a souvenir pressed penny. The GSC is housed in a futuristic glass structure and aims to get kids excited about the wonders of science. While browsing their gift shop, I found a booklet of Favourite Scottish Fish Recipes. I bought it, appreciating both the content and the irony of this collection of historic recipes and illustrations being found among the gyroscopes and chemistry sets. (And by the way, the GSC has their own bespoke tartan.)
Like so many of us, Sarah Dwyer has loved chocolate as long as she can remember. Unlike so many of us, she decided to make a career of it. After nearly twenty years working in banking and finance, she quit to take a Cordon Bleu pastry course in Paris. In 2010, she founded Chouquette to produce highly specialized, high-quality chocolates perfect for personalized expression.
She offers several flavors of filled bonbons and other molded chocolates, some to order and others on specialized themes such as cherry blossoms, dogs, famous women, the beach, and more. There are collections for the seasons, political events, and generic occasions. About a third of her business involves custom orders for weddings and other events, both personal and institutional.
And for cicada eruptions! Starting in 2021 with our local Brood X experience, Sarah designed a gift box including her classic bonbons, molded cicadas filled with marshmallow creme in either milk or dark chocolate, an enamel pin, sticker, and greeting card. And! Six actual, chocolate-covered insects, each about an inch and a half long and looking just like oblong blobs.
How do they taste? Like crunchy, dark chocolate. The bugs don’t actually have an identifiable flavor. The frisson you get while eating them is all about the novelty. It’s kind of the ultimate expression of a specialized confection.
We went to visit Sarah in her production facility in Gaithersburg, near the airpark. “We should be more open to eating bugs,” Sarah told me. I agree – I wrote years ago about a Dutch project to raise insects for human consumption.
Sarah doesn’t sell her chocolate-covered cicadas; they are gifts included with the purchase of the cicada-themed product box. This is how the Chouquette website explains the situation:
“FDA allows bugs in peanut butter, but only farmed insects can be sold, although cicadas are GRAS (Generally Recognized as Safe, those with seafood allergies should NOT eat cicadas). As we cannot sell cicadas directly and recognizing the demand from cicada enthusiasts, we can include them as a gift with purchase in our limited-edition gift boxes.”
Her cicadas are sourced from a farm in Virginia, where no pesticides are used. They are picked from trees soon after emerging, when they are at their tastiest and tenderest!
I confess I was excited to get a peek into a commercial kitchen. Sarah shares space with the caterers Simply Fresh Events, using their facility after they wrap up their event prep for the day. She has a room full of shelves storing materials for an impressive variety of subjects to transform into themed chocolates.
As we were leaving, we noticed shelves of another bespoke product, Old Bay-flavored, crab-shaped chocolate pops. Dark chocolate with a spicy edge: yum!
If you are chocolate-cicada-curious, you can order from the Chouquette website. Don’t hesitate, however, they are a limited edition!
The 7th Annual DC Chocolate Festival was a chocolate lover’s dream. In the airy atrium of the French Cultural Institute, makers of bars, bonbons and assorted other products lined the walls, offering samples and selling their wares. Several educational programs were held, and many of those involved tastings. It was a feast for all the senses, with opportunities to take away some fine examples of artisanal products.
The festival’s guiding light is Marisol Slater, former owner of the Chocolate House, a boutique store in Dupont Circle. She told me that she hoped to bring some of the issues around sustainability, environmental impact, and support of cacao farmers to wider attention, while still making the experience fun and interesting (and tasty). She has partnered with GWU’s Institute of Corporate Responsibility and the country of Trinidad and Tobago to highlight the voices of the farmers, small producers and certification programs.
It’s a complex industry. Most consumers are aware that chocolate prices are higher than they have been. She hopes to make them aware of the issues affecting the global market, especially in a city full of policy wonks – but make it delicious.
If you ask me, she succeeded. I had hoped to attend more tasting and educational sessions, but I managed just one, while visiting all the vendors, before succumbing to a theobromine coma.
Sweet and Savory Tasting Session
That session, “Chocolate and What?” promised a survey of historic and cultural pairings accompanied by tastings of those combinations designed to enhance the taste of chocolate. We began in the past, matching cacao nibs with honey, per the Aztecs. Fun fact: the Aztecs flavored chocolate with many additional things, including magnolia flowers. While we were contemplating honey, a second pairing matched chocolate with honey-spun cotton candy.
Next, red drinking chocolate highlighted achiote, a red spice from Central America, Mexico, and the Caribbean. It adds a mild heat and a peppery depth and is purported to have antioxidant powers.
After a less-successful tasting of vegan white chocolate with turmeric and ginger, the last pairing featured an alternative cocoa-free product with roasted coffee cherries. Interesting, but not chocolate. I felt a little cheated.
Over 30 Vendors
But about those vendors: each offered tastings of their specialties, and all were the real deal –no “alternatives!” They ranged from a simple display of a few products to elaborate, colorful, themed presentations, meant to stand out in the crowded hall (and the marketplace). But each vendor really had to answer just one basic question: did their chocolate taste good enough to justify a premium price?
Spoiler: Yes. From the simple three-variety selection (Ende Cacao) to the elaborate display, complete with coffee and chocolate brewed at the table and whipped with a molinillo by Sleep Walk, the chocolate was unanimously delicious. That’s not to say I didn’t have my favorites.
Here’s a selection of those that impressed me:
Maybe you see a theme here? I think ginger goes just fine with chocolate! More vendors who made an impression:
And Lunch
One thing I don’t want to test is whether I can exist on chocolate alone, so I was delighted to find that the Cultural Institute is served by a concessionaire who lives up to expectations for French food. LabonneDC Caterers served up a mighty ham and cheese quiche with a side salad for a reasonable price. Just the thing to fortify us for the trip home! Bon Appetit!
Last year on the Day of Cherry Blossom Saturation we attended both the parade and the Sakura Matsuri. This year, just for a change, we skipped the parade but subbed in another event which, coincidentally, took place on the same day and in almost the same location.
Japan on Pennsylvania Avenue
The Matsuri was just as fun, crowded, and full of cognitive dissonance (in a good way) as it was last year. The first thing I saw after entering was a group of judo fighters practicing for their demo just off the Martial Arts Stage. Some of them were barefoot in the street. That takes real dedication!
In the tent showcasing Japanese technology, I ran into an instance of culture clash – a man costumed as a fox spirit petting a robot baby seal.
The Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) did not have astronaut food this year, but they were still more than happy to chat.
And I added to my chopstick rest collection from the JAL table.
There were folks in costume, games to try, and lots of food and drinks to consume.
Tipples
In the Beyond Tokyo pavilion, the Okinawans were dispensing samples of donuts and alcoholic beverages. Aloha brand awamori is flavored with lemon or coffee (the coffee flavor is made with Kona coffee and is delicious), and is distilled in Okinawa but refined and bottled in Hawaii. I learned that awamori was the first distilled spirit to be produced in Japan and is considered a predecessor to shochu. It’s very popular for Japanese tourists visiting Hawaii to take back home as gifts. I can see doing that!
In that spirit, I eased on over to a fabulous new feature for this year’s Matsuri: the sake sampling pavilion. Several sake producers were happy to offer tastes of their products, including one new to me: sparkling sake. Given my fondness for sparkling wine, I found this innovation delightful.
Food Plentiful; Lines Likewise
Alas, the lines for the food stalls seemed even longer this year than last. This did not seem to bother many folks. Some had worked out a strategy of eating food from one stall while waiting in line for another.
I didn’t notice the okonomiyaki-sellers last year; they had an interesting way of cooking many servings of these stuffed pancakes at once, utilizing a coffee can as a giant cookie-cutter.
Among the many varieties of expected Asian food lurked a few surprises. Who would have guessed that Japanese chocolate would have a cult following in the U.S.? By the size of the line waiting to purchase from the ROYCE’ stall, the stuff is pretty popular. And, by the tasting of the free samples, I can see why.
Sail Away
I had another stop on the agenda, just a block from the Matsuri: the Blessing of the Fleet. This maritime tradition derives from an ancient ritual meant to insure the well-being of those “in peril on the sea,” and has been performed on Pennsylvania Avenue every year since the Navy Memorial was dedicated in 1987.
There was a stirring ceremony, with the Navy Band, several high-ranking naval officers and sailors in ceremonial uniforms (I love a man in a Dixie cup!). Cylinders filled with water from the seven seas and the Great Lakes were ceremoniously emptied into the quiet basins, which cued the fountains to rise up and welcome Spring. It was a stirring sight! Then we adjourned to the underground exhibit hall for Navy bean soup, patriotic cupcakes, and very fancy cookies.
So I had some lunch without having to wait in a long line. And here’s something I learned: the Navy runs a mess in the White House. (Mess is Navyspeak for cafeteria.) They were handing out recipes for Navy Bean Soup. Is this the same as Senate Bean Soup? More research is needed.