Wasabeefu

Now, a recurring theme on this blog has been innovation.

Innovation is important for business. And I don't just mean in terms of lasers, ninja-stars and internet computers, but even in mundane things, across all part of the value-generation chain, whether it is sales, distribution, accounts, or...

...fried potato-based snacks.

Yes, here is a packet of Okonomiyaki-flavoured (Osaka leftovers fryup) potato-based snacks, attractively-shaped into marine-life shapes. And, even more innovatively, there is a whale on the front with a captains hat saying "steady, there!".

However, that is nothing compared to Wasabeefu - Yes, all the flavor of wasabi plus beef in a convenient packet, with a docile cow head on the front! The wasabi is suitably shoot-up-your-nose spicy, and you end up wondering why you've been paying for the real thing up till now.

And, of course, this is just like the market - innovation can come from many sources, but often it is where you don't expect it.

How Fresh is Your Octopus?

Rationality is better in theory than in practice.

Take food, for instance. I occasionally find myself thinking along well-reasoned, rational lines, usually in the morning following a large dose of yakiniku (grilled meat - with a side dish of meat).

The argument goes something like this:


"Is it a good thing to always talk about food? It can hardly be healthy. It isn't even that interesting, actually - such a normal everyday activity, why not go on a diet, or do something useful, eh?."


However, it is not long before the textbook gets put back on the shelf, and normality ensues.

Why, you can't get away from eating food. So while you're at it, you may as well make it enjoyable.

So, having talked ourselves into it, let's head down to an Izakaya. In Japan, instead of going to the pub, people go to an Izakaya - slightly more civilized than a pub, it involves eating and drinking, and no standing. Like a gastropub, but without GBP7.00 beers and GBP25 for a plate of sausages. And without sausages. But with beers. Got it?

So, this being Japan, we basically have to start with some raw fish....

...just look at that freshness!

Let's follow up with some whale. Now, I was a little taken aback by my own lack of marine ecosystem awareness, having ordered the grilled meat of an endangered species, but as any Japanese person will tell you, whale can't possibly be endangered - how else can you buy a chunk of it in every other shop in Japan at affordable prices? But then - isn't it such a noble creature? Its a mammal, yet lives in the sea - and its really clever, isn't it? This is the kind of WWF-reasoning that has infiltrated Western people's thinking. Why don't we feel sorry for chickens or tuna? If the whale was such a genius, why couldn't he swim away from the noisy boat?

And, as I know you really want to try some, I have to tell you that it is, in fact, very meaty. Like fatty beef, and very good for you, according to Japanese scientists. They may or may not be affiliated with the whaling and wale-eating industry, but, the indisputable fact is that it is quite tasty.

This is very well complimented by a Japanese dish called Furaido Potaitou:

But this is the best bit - order some octopus, and the chef grabs an angry-looking one from a tank in the middle of the room, places it on a chopping board, and slice - there goes a leg. Octopus San doesn't bleed - he can grow more, apparently. He just looks even more cross when he's put back in the acqurium with the crab trying to bite him again.

Now - check out this freshness:

If you have fresher octopus than this, then I really do want to know about it.

I was so excited by this, that I had to stop recording - so here is the second part:



And all of this is very much like the market. Rationality is great in theory, but in practice you need to be ready to go with your gut.

Supermarket Sweep

As you know, almost everyone considers themselves contrarian. This is because almost everyone believes they are smarter than everyone else. However, this can't possibly be true, as we must explain the phenomenon of the widespread belief in UFOs, and long-dated government bonds.

And, deep inside, we know that we can't hold out against a tide of popular belief on all fronts, particularly when we see a crowd surrounding a traffic accident, or, if we are in a supermarket, and there is an uncommon interest rapidly developing around...

...a man cutting up a giant fish!

Now, you may say that the crowd was there just in order to buy the fresh fish, but there were plenty of packs available, and the pile of sample fish chunks on cocktail sticks was largely untouched.

Of course in 97% of cases store samples are they for getting some free food, pretending you are slightly interested, and continuing looking for salad dressing, however, the freshness was so overwhelming, that before I could even think about it, I already had a packet of deep red yellowfin flank in my hands.

Now, since we are in the Supa (supermarket), we should have a look around. In Japan, fruit is very special. It is peach season now, and oversized peaches are gingerly wrapped in a shock-resistant mesh, to protect the precious cargo. Why not buy a box for $55?


Or, for a hundred dollars, you can get a watermelon the size of a tractor wheel:

Or how about $84 for a bunch of grapes. They're very good, apparently.

Or an $88 honeymelon? Comes wrapped in a bow.


And all of this reminds me a little of the market - good quality will always find a bid.

How to Deal with Tough Situations

As any good survival instructor will tell you, when you find yourself lost within an expansive network of underground tunnels, you should not panic. No, instead, you should stop, take a good look around, and, if available, buy yourself a sandwich.

Now, the problem with this kind of approach until now has been the lack of sandwich - this is Japan, after all. Stopping and looking around is fine, but it really isn't as good as having a snack.

However, this situation took a dramatic turn this morning, as I discovered...

... Vie de France ("Bi do Huransu"). With an authentic French flag on the sign, surely this had to be a little corner of Paris.

However, upon investigation, there were no baguettes. Clearly, this was a setback. But then I noticed a kimono-wearing lady buying bread inside, making an interesting photo. And...


...a table full of sandwiches! We're not taking about UK train-station-style half a pound of bread with some mayonnaise and a chicken-like material hiding in the middle. No, these are full-blown very appealing sandwiches, filled with the finest of nature's bounty, and wrapped with the loving care of a mother towards her children.

So what could a rational person do in a situation like this? There was only one choice, and that was one sandwich or two.

This is the wholegrain one with a load of cheese, ham, and potato salad inside. Understated and overdelivered - what did you expect?

And here was the very thin bread full of goodness sandwich. Includes chicken and stuff that goes well with chicken. Plenty of lettuce inside keeps the thing light and fresh.

And this, I am sure you'll agree, is very much like the market. If you're stuck in a corner, you need to stop, look around, and buy a sandwich. (That's figuratively).

Avoid Pink Cow Pat for Scientific Breakthrough

Given that we have gotten ourselves all excited over the discovery of Jitalian cuisine, surely there is no better time than now to look at an alternative way of getting into the same game from a different angle. This is a slightly similar strategy to worrying about overexcitement in oil futures, and taking a look at natural gas.

And by this, I mean checking out my favourite convenience provider's, Family Mart's, selection of fresh-looking, yet affordably-priced packaged pasta dishes. You can get seafood, meat, more meat, and very thick cream. Udon and cold noodles (I know, don't ask) are well-represented also. The very thick cream idea must have sounded great in the Family Mart boardroom (possibly a well-designed yet inexpensive room in a very good location), however, the cold temperature resulting from their very own refrigerators (they really should have thought this through), makes it look like a pink cow pat (not pictured).

So essentially, this comes down to the Meat Cream Volume Raw Pasta (Fettucine). $4.30. But is this the value play of a lifetime, or a value trap?



To complement the convenience meal, what better than ...

... some genuine Jitalian sweets.

This is the Tiramisu. One of the only foreign words in Japan pronouced anything like the original. Also, one of the only words which undergoes a decrease in the vowel-count upon Japanification("Tiramisu"->"Tiramis"). A promising sign already!


And here is a big tub of white cream.


Or you can have a W Cream Wafaru Sando (Waffle Sandwhich), which in fact just looks like a spongey creamy mess, possibly usable in children's TV programs where cakes are thrown in peoples' faces as punishment for not running around fast enough. Apart from raising the important question of what are we teaching our children, this also brings out the question of how much fun would it be to throw a soft pie into someone's unsuspecting face, in reality. Investigation pending.



So, basically, our hand is forced, and we essentially have no option but to go for the Tiramis.

Now, this being Japan, the convenience shop workers automatically ask whether we would like to have our noodles warmed up in the handy high-power microwave. No need to mess around with all those buttons at home!

And, here it is. Despite the picture of the fork and plate on the packaging above, be sure to use chopsticks for that authentic Jitalian experience.



And, in fact, the pasta was, incredibly, only very slightly overcooked! The sauce was spot on also. For $4.30, this is nothing short of a breakthrough in affordable food technology.

However, the tiramis was highly disappointing. It contained jelly. Not American ice-cream jelly, but gelatinous wobbly unidentified-substance tofu-like jelly. Fortunately, the gains in the pasta breakthrough outweighed the losses on the tiramis.

And this reminds me somewhat of the market. The proof of the pudding is in the eating.

Money out of Noodles

Last Friday I managed to be gently irritating by promising an unusual destination for today's JTMIJ, while talking about dog poo signs.

However, I am cautiously optimistic that the hardships you have endured in reading Friday's entry may be worth it. And the reason for that, is because today we are going to...

... the Nissin foods dry noodle museum!

The official name in English is "The Instant Ramen Museum", but it actually sounds significantly more impressive in Japanese - "The Instant Ramen Discovery Commemoration Museum".

Here is the chap who was responsible for all of this - Momofuku Ando.

He not only is holding some dry noodles, but he is also standing on a large pot noodle! Clearly, this man was very committed.
On the very same day I saw a bus emblazoned with the Nissin foods emblem - a little chick - surely a high auspicious sign:

The museum is free, and well laid out, with helpful directions provided by little chick (here s/he is saying "The birth of Chikin Ramen"):

Inside, you can see a time-wall of dehydrated noodles,

...including some varieties that I thought were quite rare (they have a special kind of dry noodle you can only buy in Okinawa, and at this museum, some that you can only get on an aeroplane), as well as... UFO noodles:

...and Milk Seafood Noodle:


But the real history is when you go back to 1958, when Nissin foods first started selling dehydrated noodles. They looked like this ("Chikin Ramen"):


...and then forward in time to the next breakthrough:
The cup noodle ("Capunooduru")

Next we get taken on a journey of discovery to understand Ando's concept. He had five principles based on his post war experience when he saw that many people couldn't even get noodles to eat. These were: Good taste, affordability, long-term storage, nutrition, and something else.

Here he is brandishing a microscope:


For the noodle topping, he researched sixty types of food, including Broccoli, Cheese, Ham, and others, and settled on Prawn, Egg, and Beef.


Incidentally, Ando's real inspiration for the cup noodle packaging was when he was on an American plane, and got given a tin of nuts:


There is an old-school cup noodle vending machine, some information about noodles in the space program (furnished by Nissin, of course), stats on consumption (Japan is the number two consumer behind China, and ahead of Indonesia in third place), and many other self education opportunities.

However, the main reason why people come to the museum is actually because, famously, you get to design your own noodles!

So, this being Japan, we of course have to follow a well organised and efficient plan.

Firstly you pay 300 Yen for the cup ($3). Then you wash your hands with alcohol (this already won't work in Europe). The third step is to sit down and put your own design onto your cup:

There are some handy examples, mostly featuring yellow chicks. Most people end up drawing yellow chicks.


Due to artistic limitations and other excuses, I managed an awful design:

I tried to make up for it by drawing the character for Wealth on the side for good luck in future undertakings. However, this can only help marginally if you are standing next to families with perfectly drawn cartoon characters on theirs.

Now, they have a mini-production line, where you hand over your creation and see how they make the cup noodle. You can choose between a number of flavours - Seafood, Curry, Veg, Chicken etc., and four out of about fifteen toppings:

Lastly, you get an inflatable bag to put your precious dry noodles into. Always ready to help, this chick is saying "Please take a string!".

You put the cup into the plastic bag, and pump it up.

Now, in the complex instructions on how to apply a bike pump to a plastic bag, our chick adviser says:

"Don't pump too much!"

...and this, of course, was highly tempting to use as the market message of the day.

However, there is a more serious point here. Momofuku ("One hundred Riches") Ando started development in a shed like this, and only started selling noodles when he was 48 years old. And yet became one of the most celebrated food empire geniuses of all time.



And this, I feel, reminds me of the market - slow and steady wins the race.

Further Adventures in the Newly Found Land of Jitalia

So, now that we have discovered the new branch of cuisine - Jitalian - and especially given the positive early signs we saw, it is imperative, I feel, that we further investigate this curious fusion of two world cuisines.

And, conveniently, we find ...

...the Mountain Cat Pizzeria!


Now, you can't really see very clearly here, but the outside looks like an overly-stocked seaside antique shop, specialising in cats. Very un-Japanese in its messyness. A positive sign already!

Our suspicions are confirmed when we enter. Full of random trinkets - excellent. Although the size of the place (sits about seven Japanese, or maybe two and a half Europeans), and the seats at the counter are also very Japanese. Is this going to be the perfect fusion of Japanese and Italian cuisine?

The table looks even more promising - what could be more Italian, than a map of Italy plastered across your table. The diner is left in no doubt that he or she is in for something different.

And the charming cat drawings and Italian grammatical mistakes in the menu are clearly designed to make everyone feel at home.

And once I saw this, I was almost too excited about the ingenuity and creative technique of the proprietor, and jumped to the conclusion that the food would be equally immaginative.

However, the starter was fairly standard. Not too much cheese - it is, after all, a precious commodity in Japan, such as oil, cobalt, and golf courses.

However the bruschette were original. These came in three types - cheese and pepper, pate, and ...

... raw salmon and basil!

Essentially another variety of sushi. I was overjoyed at discovering this culinary innovation.

Now, the pasta, which as you know is an Italian noodle a bit like yaki soba, but not fried, you can eat with a fork, if you wish, but after slurping noodles everyday, the chopsticks just felt right.

Now, here is the pizza. Looks good, doesn't it? Yes, but they committed one fatal error....

...the unpardonable sin of using concentrated tomato paste! I was instantly dissillusioned, and would have probably started to cry were it not for the four-minute bowing-fest by the three salarymen crammed into the next table.

And this, I am afraid, somewhat reminds me of the market. Sometimes you can't test your assumptions until it is too late.