We just hopped the language barrier, smashed our way through the mental Japanese addressing system, ordered online and ate this astonishing beast. It is a 15 inch pizza with burgers on it. The chap from Dominos who delivered it was, as always here, incredibly polite. Everyone in the hostel’s lounge looked at us like we were the absolute spawn of Satan. The pizza tastes exactly like it looks, which is to say, it tastes of impending heart failure. See you in hell!
Today we completed our unfinished business from last year; namely to get to the top of the Fushimi Inari shrine we visited last year. The shrine sits on the side of a mountain and is crisscrossed by footpaths enclosed by densely packed orange torii gates. The last time we tried to summit this bugger of a hill we started out too late and had to flee in fear of ghosts and the resident drunks, evidence of whom was found in discarded sake cups and litter. This year, we hit it at 2pm and were ready as we were ever going to be. Having made it all the way up and back down we are now in the perfect mood for a bonus extra special beer review! We found this one in a Lawson which we are bereft of in Asakasa: it’s called … STOUT. It’s made by Kirin, and it’s supposed to be Stout in the tradition of Guinness and Murphy’s and Beamish. Here goes, ladies and gentlemen.
KIRIN’S ORIGINAL BREW: STOUT
This stuff comes in a black can with gold highlights. There’s a good bit of English on the front to give you some exotic impressions. Apparently, “The aroma of roasted malt and smooth creamy foam enrich your precious time.” The initial nose is of burnt hay or caramel and it’s overwhelmingly strong. It’s sickly sweet to taste and still has the same burnt flavour from the smell. The aftertaste is cloying. It gave Barry hiccups. In summary: RUN AWAY, TASTES LIKE ARSE AND MAKES YOU HICCUP.
It’s raining. It’s been raining. It’s always rained. There’s never been a time it didn’t rain. This is Tokyo in April 2008. It’s even raining indoors, which managed to alarm our host, Satoshi, who called in a number of men to observe the problem and conclude that nothing can be done until Monday. It’s OK, though, only one of my compatriots is affected by The Dampening, which started overnight and left a large wet patch on his futon, thankfully saving the tatami from any damage. Besides, we have beer now. Everything can be made fine with copious application of beer.
Here we are, then, in the lounge of the ryokan having raided the local convenience stores for beer to supplement last year’s reviews of the local brews. There’s been a sea change in the new types of beer being advertised. They now focus on a) Hops and b) Zero carbohydrates. These lifestyle beers have previously scored poorly with us, and I don’t predict any better this time. Frankly, I’m scared.
Doesn’t appall on the first sniff but rapidly disappoints on the taste after coming on promisingly. Think of a happy dog running towards you with its tail wagging and as it comes closer you realise it’s rabid and is about to savage you.
Rob says: A much rounder richer flavour than the Kirin Sparkling Hop. Apparently a mouth-filling ‘umami’ flavour to it. A little bit flat in gas content. Pleasant overall, flavoursome, a fairly distinctive style. Not particularly refreshing: not a hot-weather beer.
Very sparkly, unsurprisingly. Tastes like not much. I think I’m drinking barely flavoured sparkling water. It says “The flavour of frozen hop” which is fairly accurate since freezing drinks has the effect of removing all the taste. If you have anosmia, you will have the same experience I just did drinking this.
Rob says: First taste of it seems quite fruity which is weird but as the flavour develops it becomes slightly watery. The first taste is fruity but the after-taste is sour.
Noteworthy is that the above two hoppy-named beers taste nothing of hops.
My non-beer drinking compatriots are drinking Zima. It looks like gay in a bottle and I’m refusing to drink it
A 4% beer trying to be a draught beer in a can with low calories and zero carbohydrates. This is doomed to failure. It’s “clear and rich for a new lifestyle”. A new lifestyle with tasteless beer? Let’s see!
*sip*
Tastes like arse. Smells like seaweed. Wow.
Smells as bad. Tastes worse. Fuck me.
Rob: Tastes like weak dishwater.
Both of those were so bad they really don’t warrant any further words. We couldn’t finish them, they’re now communing with the sewage they undoubtably came from.
A quick snack is in order.
Mayomania crisps. Mayonnaise and tuna flavoured. Apparently very bland crisps with a logo - of a man guzzling a bottle of mayonnaise - more interesting than the contents.
Another “zero” beer. “Savor the flavor, this brew is for you. Think positive and enjoy life.” We’ll see.
Smells like sewage AGAIN. I don’t know what these guys are doing to remove the carbs from their beer but it’s sick and wrong. Even my non-beer-drinking compatriot knew it tastes awful. It tastes like the smell of hot sewers in a Paris summer. Avoid it, even if it’s free. It too went down the sink.
SUPER SPECIAL EXTRA SURPRISE
A strange can of non-beer we picked up in the combini. It appears to be 7% alcohol of unknown origin. Smells of cosmetics. The only other evidence on the can is that it’s made of aluminium. Everyone tried to describe the smell and nobody could come up with another word than cosmetics. Under pressure, Rob said “ginger cake”. Perrin pulled a horrid face. Apparently this tastes like a root beer and dates from 1919 (Taisho 8, says the can!) Shockingly medicinal, says Rob.
Twenty minutes later, Barry complains that he’s fed up of drinking eyeliner
We’re gonna clear the last two dubious looking lifestyle beers so we can get on with a can that tastes inoffensive enough to finish.
We’ve never had luck with the Asahi lifestylers so no high hopes here. Just to confirm, it’s not like TAB Clear - it is beer coloured, so no scary magic going on there. Rob claims it’s quite palatable in his tasting, so….
*slurp*
It’s better than the others we’ve tried. Slight chemical aftertaste which leads you to take the next gulp sooner than you’d want to. Not much else to say about it, really.
Barry says: “You’d die of boredom drinking this.” He’s quite right.
Another beer claiming to be a draught. It tastes like… well, nothing much. It’s OK but there’s nothing distinctive to it. “A lively and crispy new draught” might be seen as a little hyperbole if it was written by anyone other than a marketer. Has a nice big can opening which the other makers could do well to take notes from. Easy gulping!
Rob says “It’s all right. It’s nothing special is it?”
Which about sums it up. Rob and I diverge in opinions at this point: Rob prefers the Asahi Clear and I prefer the Jyokki.
For some reason, on TV currently, Macauly Culkin has huge ginger lips. We change channel on the wave of vociferous complaint. One of MTV’s idents at the moment is “MTV BLOWS ME”. It doesn’t need the pronoun.
NEXT UP:
This can has no less than 4 different percentages on the can. 99.9%. 25%. 50%. 5%. There’s a large picture of a head of barley too. It’s like putting a picture of a happy smiling pig on packets of bacon; I really don’t want to remember that this drink comes from an ugly bit of grass. The can’s one of those fancy textured ones we don’t get in the UK. It makes it feel a little more expensive.
This is another perfectly palatable beer, which is an astonishing achievement for Asahi. Rob says the aftertaste is sour but otherwise perfectly fine. I don’t think it’s too bad. I finish it, so that’s a good sign.
Barry’s special non-beer drink. It’s alcoholic oolong tea. Rob says it’s fucking horrible. Perrin says it smells like tea bags. Fermented tea bags. It tastes like a cup of tea left for four hours that you accidentally pick up and drink by accident. Rob says “it’s like sucking on a used tea bag”. I try it…
Fucking dreadful. It initially tastes of cold tea. Then this incredible aftertaste kicks in and you wish for the apocalypse. Your entire life has led to you sitting in a tiny room on the other side of the world drinking aborted tea bags dipped in ethanol and shit and pumped into assembly lines of cans and wondering if maybe The Big One could come now, please, just so nobody could ever peddle this foul arse-water to anyone ever again.
Most of the label is taken up with the absurd temperature. Nobody can work out what was done to it at -196C. It smells of “oooh, that’s cherries”. It’s very pink inside. Rob makes an off colour comment about the colour and Barry says “mm, I could finish that.” They do. Perrin correctly predicts I’d hate it. I use a barge-pole to politely decline the offer.
The Frenchman staying here who took a whole hour in the shower yesterday morning is trying to break the record for taking up the toilet for the longest time in the 50 year history of this ryokan. He is a prodigious, biblical, shitter.
Ok, we’re down to the last two beers.
Well shit me if we didn’t leave the best until last. Hit up the gold cans, ladies and gentlemen. A distinctive taste from the rest of this crop, fills the mouth and is worth sipping on. I feel like I’ve wasted the entire night waiting for this can. This whole review idea was stupid!
Rob says: This actually reminds me a bit of the other Yebisu we had. The same sort of round, umami, feel that the other one had.
Oh Christ, another Asahi. It’s premium though, maybe it doesn’t suck?
Watery but some good flavour to it nonetheless. Probably quite nice if it’s cooled well. Rob says: Probably the nicest Asahi we’ve had. It’s got a good malty background flavour to it.
We think the Yebisu wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste. It’s my favourite of the batch but the Asahi Premium would be worth a try to anyone not enamoured with flavoursome malty beers. None of the beers we’ve had tonight beat last year’s standout beer, the Kirin Gold and none at all come close to Asahi Super Dry which is exported throughout the world for a very good reason: it’s their best.
Photos via Flickr, click through for the original photo pages. I took photos at the time, but I’m 200 miles away from my card reader; typical!
Yebisu The Hop by Snowy***
Sakura and Sakuranbo Chu-hi by mullenkedheim
We shan’t talk about last night. I’m sure my compatriots will have already spilled the beans, but the behaviour of men deprived of sleep for 36 hours and put through the sausage machine of international air flight should be looked upon in a favourable context. Like the naughty boy in class whose Mum just died. “There, there, we understand. Just don’t do it again.”
We necked some melatonin before bed, the label of which promises to fix all sleep and jet-lag related woes. It doesn’t mention getting you jailed in Dubai, but it doesn’t matter. The star at the end of the label points you to a disclaimer which might as well say, “Everything we just said was a lie.” It seemed to work regardless; we slept for nearly 12 hours and woke up just past 9. If we can manage the same tonight, I think we’re onto a pharmacological winner.
Today was spent in nearby Akihabara which is as close to hell as it’s possible to get in Tokyo. A giant thoroughfare crammed solid with shops selling all manner of goods, the only requirement for stocking being that it appeals to legions of wildly obsessive fans of games, comics, porn or electronics. The shops are uniquely spaceless and stuffed to the gills with people. Despite all this, it’s a remarkably fun place to visit; the eye is never short of things to look at and the mind is never short of marvelling at things like, who on earth collects perfect scale models of construction cranes? Much of our time here is spent wondering how much we could resell anime-related tat for back in Britain and will it offset the postage costs to get it back. Usually the answer is no.
My major problem today was that my wallet seems to set off the flavour of electronic anti theft gates that shops have in their doorways here. Any shop I walked into, I was greeted with a screaming siren and one or more shopkeepers interested in knowing why. It wasn’t long before I was having heart palpitations over walking into stores hoping I wasn’t going to be dragged into another difficult situation. To preempt a heart attack, I took to leaving the wallet - emptied of its contents - in a hiding place outside each shop. It somehow worked; something I’m sure would be impossible in London.
Tonight we intend to perform some authentic and detailed reproductions of Japanese and English-language popular music in the local Karaoke venue. It’ll be a cultured affair, as usual. Outside the influence of some of our esteemed Karaoke company in London, we hope to avoid renditions of Celine Dion, Elton John and, jesus, Gackt.
My cohorts and I are departing for Japan tomorrow afternoon for a two-week exploration of the aesthetics and anthropological nature of the land of the rising sun. Some may stick their noses up and claim that we are merely going to indulge in deep-geekery, public nudity and drink all the beer we can, but I must protest in the strongest possible way. We are there for educational reasons only and I hope our actions will speak louder than your cynical brayings.
Assuming some terrible accident doesn’t befall us, I’ll hopefully manage to post the odd titbit before I return. Until then, sayonara!
Russian squirrel pack ‘kills dog’
First posted: Thursday, 1 December 2005
Currently: Number 1 most emailed story on BBC News website
