Rainy day in Kyoto town
Finding great food in the rain
Today started with the double-great news that
there had been a cancellation at my hotel, allowing me to stay all three nights
here, and that there would be no cancellation charge for the same-day
cancellation at the Princess Nikko. The front desk folks helped me with that
one!
I hung out in the a.m. hoping the rain would clear, but when it didn't, I set out to find Biotei kitty corner from the Nakagyo Post office (near Karasuma-Oike), which I might add, has an ATM I used. Something about the bright lights and plastic tables just wasn't what I was looking for. I wanted something more down-home Japanese, so I walked a few blocks down to Tosai. I pulled back the door said hi, and the woman inside told me they were only open for dinner. I asked for her help (mind you this is a limited-English/Japanese conversation) in finding another veg-suitable restaurant, not Biotei. She consulted with someone in the Kitched, stepped into some uncomfortable-looking sandals, and basically said "Follow me." So I did, and we made small talk along the way. 3 blocks she walked me to another place. As we arrive, she read the special of the day sign (Japanese) and says, "oh, no, it's meat today." But she stuck her head in, and asked if they could take good care of me. OK, Hai dozo, I'm in. Thanks! Sayonara.
This place was called Kosendo-sumi on Aneyakoji-dori. It's just a little place with mostly women eating lunch. I don't know how it also made it into Lonely Planet. in my distributed risk dining strategy, I decided to go for the "Healthy Setu" rather than pick a single entree. Great call. White beans in sweet glaze sauce. Some kind of white "mountain potato" crunchy but melted in the mouth, with mm-thin nori strips. Mochi cubes on wooden skewers bathing in a cup of hot water, dipped in plum or bean paste (heavenly, chewy, yum.) Miso soup. Pickles. Plain rice. Served with a red-brown tea that honestly smelled (and tasted) like cigarette butts in an ashtray. Anything that smells that bad must be good for me, so I had seconds.
On the lacquer tray, each dish got its own special ceramic bowl, cup, or dish. The one for the beans was a little white oval bowl hand-pained with blue flowers. Around the inside edge of the bowl were painted Roman numerals XII, III, VI, IX, like a clock, with dots for the other spaces. A traditional Japanese dish served in a bowl with Roman numerals in a clock pattern. I love the world.
I hung out in the a.m. hoping the rain would clear, but when it didn't, I set out to find Biotei kitty corner from the Nakagyo Post office (near Karasuma-Oike), which I might add, has an ATM I used. Something about the bright lights and plastic tables just wasn't what I was looking for. I wanted something more down-home Japanese, so I walked a few blocks down to Tosai. I pulled back the door said hi, and the woman inside told me they were only open for dinner. I asked for her help (mind you this is a limited-English/Japanese conversation) in finding another veg-suitable restaurant, not Biotei. She consulted with someone in the Kitched, stepped into some uncomfortable-looking sandals, and basically said "Follow me." So I did, and we made small talk along the way. 3 blocks she walked me to another place. As we arrive, she read the special of the day sign (Japanese) and says, "oh, no, it's meat today." But she stuck her head in, and asked if they could take good care of me. OK, Hai dozo, I'm in. Thanks! Sayonara.
This place was called Kosendo-sumi on Aneyakoji-dori. It's just a little place with mostly women eating lunch. I don't know how it also made it into Lonely Planet. in my distributed risk dining strategy, I decided to go for the "Healthy Setu" rather than pick a single entree. Great call. White beans in sweet glaze sauce. Some kind of white "mountain potato" crunchy but melted in the mouth, with mm-thin nori strips. Mochi cubes on wooden skewers bathing in a cup of hot water, dipped in plum or bean paste (heavenly, chewy, yum.) Miso soup. Pickles. Plain rice. Served with a red-brown tea that honestly smelled (and tasted) like cigarette butts in an ashtray. Anything that smells that bad must be good for me, so I had seconds.
On the lacquer tray, each dish got its own special ceramic bowl, cup, or dish. The one for the beans was a little white oval bowl hand-pained with blue flowers. Around the inside edge of the bowl were painted Roman numerals XII, III, VI, IX, like a clock, with dots for the other spaces. A traditional Japanese dish served in a bowl with Roman numerals in a clock pattern. I love the world.
Posted: Sat - October 30, 2004 at 11:35 PM
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Published On: Oct 31, 2004 12:07 AM
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Published On: Oct 31, 2004 12:07 AM