Mitsuwa - a tasteful massaging of the senses

I love Japanese food, partly because it is delicious, but mostly because it gives me the opportunity to start several sentences with, “well, when I was in Japan…” [also picture me pretentiously gesturing towards my person while I arch my eyebrows in a self-satisfied, smug manner] Tut-tutting ethnic food as not matching your previous experience of that food in its native country is the pinnacle achievement within my circle of friends. Needless to say, people from Palin's "Real America" find us less than endearing.

Remember those Apple Jack commercials where the parents grill the kids about why they

like Apple Jacks even though they don’t taste like apples, and the kids answer, “we eat what we like”? Well, my version for why I like my cool ethnic food is “we eat what you don’t like.” That is, by eating fermented soy beans while you give a yucky face, we have demonstrated our worldly superiority over you. It’s saying: go back to your PF Changs and Macaroni Grills; you’re enjoying food merely on palatability, while we’re enjoying an authentic experience.

After a subpar ramen experience in downtown, we decided superior ramen broth is worth the hardship – and by hardship we mean a pleasurable Saturday outing in Sizzlenutz’s late model Suburu for a 30 minute drive to an affluent Chicago suburb (certainly my definition of “hardship” forks slightly from, oh, I don’t know, someone in Chad or Haiti).

Mitsuwa Marketplace (100 East Algonquin Road) is an immersive shopping and dining experience reminiscent of my cherished Ito Yokado at Musashisakai Eki. Going to an American food court in an American chain mall in an American suburb is the sort of activitythat gets you excommunicated from my skinny-jean clad circle, but make it an ethnic chain mall and suddenly you’re the bass player for Beach House (if you don’t understand the reference, I scoff at you behind your back). Unfortunately, if you’re Asian, even if you’re fifth-generation Korean, you don’t gain any more credibility for going to Mitsuwa than I do for going to Stater Brothers. Sorry, dudes. I don’t make the cultural cache rules.

I ordered the Unagidon (eel rice bowl): Sizzlenutz, Chlodnik, and GCL newcomer Brushes WithWolves ordered miso, shoyu (soy sauce), and shio (salt) ramen. My eel was creamy, flaky and flavorful, though usually I prefer my eel with a crispier outside texture. The exclamations from my fellow food explorers made it clear that their ramen expectations had been met, with the miso ramen a favorite for its delicate straddle of the sweet and salty. At the same time, you understand that you haven’t delved into a tenth of the delicious possibilities of the Mitsuwa food court.

Afterwards we went grocery shopping for the miso-centric dinner Sizzlenutz was preparing that night. I walked up and down the aisles searching for peanut cream - a highly processed concoction that is less like our traditional peanut butter and more like a gelatinous, peanut-flavored Nutella. During my time as a poor student in Tokyo, peanut cream became a nearly daily staple almost to the point of nausea. My first taste in 6 years brought a rush of emotions and memories that went beyond the food stuff itself…days of bike rides, Japanese language classes and train bells…nights of karaoke, cigarettes, cheap beer and androgynous fashion. What food will capture my Chicago experience? Certainly nothing as obvious as Chicago’s overrated stuffed pizza.

Sizzlenuts added picture captions:

1) Chittlins doing what he does with beautiful women: gets fed like a baby (side note: this does not result in sex)

2). Shoyu Ramen: Rich porky heaven

3). Sizzlenuts doing what he does with beautiful women: makes them laugh. (side note: this does not result in sex).

4) Groceries and such. pretty colors too.

5). Chitlins shows sushi chef a recipe from Chlodnik's Japanese cookbook for his opinion (side note: this results in sex).