Posts Tagged ‘Ice Cream’

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40. Octopus Ice Cream

June 11, 2008

It is on this melancholic note that Culinary Abortions from Japan must come to a sudden, dire end.

Readers will be saddened, or perhaps relieved, but they will not be surprised–for there is no greater offense than to sully the palatial easel of ice cream with octopus ejecta.

The fact that there is a market for this pure abortion is more depressing than CROCS brand shoes, Japan’s immigration policy, or an afternoon of watching synchronized swimming.

But these comparisons aside, the writer, although not abandoning the pen, must for obvious reasons pictured above, pursue voluntary deportation.

As a final note, thank you for your continued support and interest in Culinary Abortions. Such a fine readership as you has given me hope for the kitchens of tomorrow and the betterment of today. Together, we can stop these gustatory injustices from invading our homes and communities. May you now take guard against these very insults in your day-to-day life.

And please do not let these posts deter you from visiting Japan; it is a country filled with honest people and with something amusing (as you can see) for almost everyone. Just remember– if you do visit, brown-bag your lunches and vehemently avoid any store called

  • Lawson’s
  • Family Mart
  • 7-11

おねがいします。

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34. Ice Cream Ramen

June 2, 2008

What you are seeing here is not a mirage. These are actually two full-fledged ice cream cones dumped in a sewer of pork clippings and noodle detritus.

Only two egg halves swell from the shadows of the sludge as sole lifeboats for the otherwise listless and vulnerable cones. But it appears the cones have surrendered; they cling not to the oval vessels of hope but lie prostrate within the wreckage.

As a final salute to life, each cone heeds toward the other, exchanging one last kiss before it is lost, indefinitely, in a pool of tepid broth. To see each other deliquescing in the unnatural heat of soup is perhaps the cruelest farewell, but one tinged with an ironic romance. However, the last tenderness is lost when the cones grow unrecognizable: swept by a wave of seaweed and other ramen offal, the light seizes– the connection fades.

And now the reader must dry his or her eye, realizing the sadness herewithin, the scorched flames of love and life. But most of all the sadness of Japanese cuisine, which is finally approaching the zenith of absurd.

We can only thank Japan it Up! another JAPAN blog, for drawing our attention to this tragedy. For unknown reasons, this restaurant has either gone out of business or shrunk its sign to an illegible size almost as if to deter customers. Japan it Up’s careful documentary of this culinary gunshot wound to the head may be the only one left remaining.

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27. The Pre-Packaged Soft Serve Cone

May 20, 2008

Japan loves to preserve things. This is why locals add cherry blossoms to everything from ramen (post coming soon) to rice balls in the spring. This is also why, if you move to Japan, you will find yourself living in an uninsullated hospital green apartment from 1821.

But there are some treasures in life that cannot be preserved

  • You cannot pour sunshine into a vial
  • You cannot lock health into a cabinet
  • You cannot buy a one night stand in a box
  • You cannot seal your friends into a tube

And most importantly

  • You cannot desecrate the soft serve cone, Japan’s lynch pin of hope, by trapping it under an hermetic dome of reconstituted plastic

There, it will suffer under a bitter miasma of re-circulated air. It will respond by sprouting a coat of ice crystals and atrophying its cone base until it is actually softer than the alleged “soft” ice cream itself.

For now, stick with the original, freshly dispensed version. You won’t have a problem finding one in Japan. They are more common in this country than are gas stations, garbage cans, or even people.

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18. The Ice Dog

May 7, 2008

Any Japan-O-Phile will know that Osaka is the birthplace of the culinary abortion. More sensory violations occur in Osaka than in any other place in the world. This is because Osaka is the “creative” heart of the already めずらしい Japan; alternatively, it is because Osaka is home to America Town, a bleak subdivision where washed-out teens listen to Avril Lavigne, wear pink converse shoes, and bask in the empty glory that is the American Dream.

These individuals satisfy their hunger with “American” fusion foods that are in reality borderless miscarriages.

A prime example is the Ice Dog.

Here the American staple, the hot dog, is enmeshed with the Japanese staple, the softo-creamu. These two bodies meet to form a blastocyst of bad.

We have already discussed Japan’s two food textures, pillow soft and brick hard. The Ice Dog transcends these divisions since the wetness of the ice cream slackens already soft bread to the consistency of paper mache.

You should say no to this product. If you want to fit in, buy yourself a black and purple striped T and a Jamaican tri-colour belt. This is the national uniform of Japanese youth, especially those from America Town.