"Oh yes, it's very fresh."
A couple of weeks ago we had an event at school called Taikan-Tozan. Taikan Tozan means "mountain climbing to endure the cold".
Yep.
After hearing horror stories about previous hikes (last year Angel-sensei couldn't make it back without help, and she's my age), I managed to get myself assigned to the PTA brigade in charge of making Udon for the returnees.
Even though it was well past dawn, the sky was quite dark as the kids gathered before the hike. "Doesn't it look like it's going to rain?" I asked, to murmurs of "sou desu ne...."
And sure enough, the minute the kids stepped outside the school gates, snow started to fall in big wet chunks. Nobody seemed to mind it except me, so I shrugged and went to the teacher's room, where I could endure the cold by huddling next to the space heater.
After the hike, the teachers had an enkai -- a drinking party. The first course was a little something like this:
I took that picture on my little phone, so let me describe to you what's going on in there. We have a giant fish, called a tai, that has had its flesh scraped out, cut into bite-sized sashimi, and rearranged on its stomach to resemble scales.
Next to the tai is a lobster that has been cut cleanly in two. The upper half of the lobster is arranged so that it is staring at its own severed tail, which has been relieved of its flesh to make more sashimi. I don't think the lobster cared for this situation too much, because its upper half was squirming wildly in such a way that it seemed to be trying to crawl off the plate.
My coworkers found my discomfort hilarious, and had a great time grabbing the lobster by its claws and making it dance, until finally the staff took it away... in order to cut it into chunks and serve to us in a bowl of miso soup.
Yep.
After hearing horror stories about previous hikes (last year Angel-sensei couldn't make it back without help, and she's my age), I managed to get myself assigned to the PTA brigade in charge of making Udon for the returnees.
Even though it was well past dawn, the sky was quite dark as the kids gathered before the hike. "Doesn't it look like it's going to rain?" I asked, to murmurs of "sou desu ne...."
And sure enough, the minute the kids stepped outside the school gates, snow started to fall in big wet chunks. Nobody seemed to mind it except me, so I shrugged and went to the teacher's room, where I could endure the cold by huddling next to the space heater.
After the hike, the teachers had an enkai -- a drinking party. The first course was a little something like this:
I took that picture on my little phone, so let me describe to you what's going on in there. We have a giant fish, called a tai, that has had its flesh scraped out, cut into bite-sized sashimi, and rearranged on its stomach to resemble scales.
Next to the tai is a lobster that has been cut cleanly in two. The upper half of the lobster is arranged so that it is staring at its own severed tail, which has been relieved of its flesh to make more sashimi. I don't think the lobster cared for this situation too much, because its upper half was squirming wildly in such a way that it seemed to be trying to crawl off the plate.
My coworkers found my discomfort hilarious, and had a great time grabbing the lobster by its claws and making it dance, until finally the staff took it away... in order to cut it into chunks and serve to us in a bowl of miso soup.