Tokyo - Yanaka Neighborhood

Going Back in Time
Yanaka is the only neighborhood to survive the WWII firebombings and as such, it looks like no other area in Tokyo.  This is the first time either of us had visited.  Unlike the rest of Tokyo, there are few high rise buildings.  There are a lot of weathered wooden single family homes, many covered in vines and flowers.  No one house looked like another, as if each had been built by hand by the great great grandparents of the current tenants.

The town loudly announces its love of cats.  We saw this cat store as soon as we got off the subway and saw many other cat statues and graffiti as we walked around.

There are few cars in Yanaka, the cyclists rule the narrow alleyways.

It's quiet and bright, more of the sky makes its way to you.

There were parked bikes outside of almost every small store.

Plenty of room for trees and shrubs, something you don't see in the rest of Tokyo.

One of the small alleyways had a bright green crop of bamboo that was at least twice as tall as the buildings.

Then, as often is the case in Japan, something magical and unexpected.  Down an alleyway no more than six feet wide, we found a miniature bakery.  It was a single room with a window and one baker, a young women with a sweet smile.  You step up onto a wooden beam to select your bun and pay.

She only makes animal-shaped buns.  We got a little piggy bun which was filled with cheese.  It was delicious.  Who would open up closet-sized bakery in a narrow alley of a sleepy neighborhood?  Who would decide to eschew normal baked goods for animal-shaped buns?  A Japanese person.  It makes no commercial sense and I love that.

The entire neighborhood is made out of wood.  I can see how firebombing worked so effectively.

We nibbled all day long but my favorite place was the one with the young guy standing outside, wrestling with a large silver drum.  He opened and closed two long levers that were attached to the drum's mouth.  I wasn't sure he was completely in control - the drum kicked and whistled and threw him about.  I was totally confused until I noticed from the signboard photos that they specialized in chestnut desserts.

He was cooking the chestnuts in a large pressure cooker.  The freshly cooked chestnuts went directly into my Mont Blanc, above and Dodo's slightly more complicated concoction, below.  Usually the Japanese take a perfect French dessert and dilute it to irrelevance.  In this case, however, I found the dialed-down sugar level refreshing.  I could taste the chestnut more directly and took my time savoring each bite.