Do you like unagi? Do you like it enough to eat cultivated unagi?
According to the startup, the cultivated eel delivers the delicate texture and flavorful taste of the Japanese unagi eel (Anguilla japonica), renowned for its tenderness and rich flavor.
To demonstrate the potential of its new development, Forsea worked with chef Katsumi Kusumoto of Saido, a popular vegan restaurant in Tokyo, to craft two traditional Japanese dishes — unagi kabayaki (marinated grilled eel over rice) and unagi nigiri
I’d try it, I suppose. I am usually vegan, but is this food against that? Is cultivated meat still meat? It’s not from a living creature, so I suppose not. But I’ve seen arguments for and against from strict vegans.
At any rate, they are trying to make it available by next year when evidently the Japanese law will change which currently bans cultivated meat.
And here is your daily almanac for Sunday, the twenty-first of January 2024.
On this day in 1895, Ito Noe, a prominent Japanese feminist and anarchist, was born in Fukioka. A trailblazer in advocating for women’s rights and social reforms, Noe’s life was dedicated to challenging societal norms and fighting for gender equality. Her work in the early 20th century laid the groundwork for subsequent feminist movements in Japan. Noe’s passion for social justice and her tragic early death make her a compelling and inspirational figure in Japanese history.
Also on this day in 1946, Sugita Hisajo, a talented haiku poet, passed away. Despite facing challenges in her personal life and struggling for recognition in the male-dominated world of haiku, Hisajo left a significant mark in the world of Japanese literature with her unique and evocative haiku.
Today’s rokuyō, Senbu (先負), suggests a day where the morning is auspicious, but caution is advised in the afternoon. (Read more about the rokuyō here)
On the old calendar, today would have been the tenth day of the twelfth month. We find ourselves in Daikan (大寒), the deepest cold of winter, and the microseason Fuki no hana saku (款冬華), when the butterbur flowers bloom. This period, representing the peak of winter’s chill, is a time for introspection and reflection.
足袋つぐやノラともならず教師妻 tabi tsugu ya nora to mo narazu kyōshizuma
mending socks—
not much like Nora
this teacher’s wife
Paper dolls by Ikeda Shuzo
Nora, from Ibsen’s A Doll’s House was something of a rebel, breaking free of traditional constraints of domestic life, and choosing freedom over family. Hisajo, by contrast, dreamed of that, but instead chose to be a faithful wife and mother, and stayed. Her relationship with her husband broke down over that; he gave up his artistic dreams and instead took a job as an art teacher to pay the bills, and she resented him for giving up his dream when she couldn’t do the same. Yet she felt constrained by society to be a good wife and mother. This conflict between her obligations and her dreams would haunt her all her life.[1]
As we endure the deep cold of Daikan and admire the resilience of the butterbur flowers, let’s remember the enduring legacies of Ito Noe and Sugita Hisajo. Their contributions to feminism, literature, and the larger discourse on social reform and personal expression in Japan continue to inspire and resonate.
Be well, do good work, and stay in touch.
I’ll write more about this haiku in a future post. Consider this a preview. ↩
What side of the road do you drive on? Tell me your country and I can probably guess. A good rule of thumb is that former British colonies drive on the left, while everyone else drives on the right. This doesn’t always hold (for example, the US and Canada—both former British colonies—drive on the right) but it does hold true often enough to make it a good guess if you otherwise don’t know.
But then we come to Japan. Japan drives on the left, yet Japan was never a British colony. What gives?
I actually wouldn’t think this much of note, but I get asked the why of this often enough by non-Japanese for it to stick in my brain as something people are curious about. Just last week I met a guy from Mexico who found it very frustrating that they drive on the left here and he repeatedly asked me why.
I thought it might be fun today to share the popular reason for this. Let’s note that this is only the popular story among the Japanese, but scholars debate if it is actually true or not because historical records don’t provide a lot of evidence for why they drive on the left side, nothing conclusive. But like I said, it’s a fun and popular story, and it does seem plausible enough for us to accept in light of a lack of other evidence.
The story goes that they drive on the left side in Japan because of the samurai. You see, the samurai wore their swords on the left side so that it was easier to draw the sword with their right hand. According to the tale, samurai would walk on the left side of the road so that their swords would never accidentally bump into each other, which would be something of a faux pas.
The automobile didn’t come until many years after the samurai class had been abolished, but the habit of walking on the left had been well established so that when cars did come it just seemed natural to drive on the same side they walked.
So there you go: it’s all because of the samurai!
Created using Dall-e. Other that the fact that he’s stabbing his own shoulder, it’s not a bad picture.
Of course there are other theories; other more boring theories. One of these says it was simply because of British influence. America forcefully opened Japan to the world in 1853, but America soon fell into bloody civil war and lost her influence in Japan for many years, so Britain stepped in and became one of the strongest influences as Japan worked to rapidly modernize. It is thought that Japan took much engineering influence from Britain, including for the tram and street system, and these led to driving on the left side.
Or you know, maybe it was a combination of both. Who knows. Like I said, scholars seem unsure and they still debate this point. At any rate, the samurai sword story is a very popular one in Japan, so I think it’s worth knowing about even if it’s not entirely accurate.
It seems like many of the northern countries are getting quite a bit of cold weather from the latest polar vortex, and in some cases that cold weather is bringing a lot of snow. Thinking about that brought this haiku from Issa to mind.
山寺や雪の底なる鐘の声 一茶 yamadera ya yuki no soko naru kane no koe[1]
at the mountain temple
from deep under the snow
the sound of a bell
—Issa[2]
Zojoji Temple in Snow by Kawase Hasui
Ever the jokester, Issa is giving us a bit of a tall tale here: arriving at a temple and finding temple and bell completely under snow, but hearing the bell ring as usual. Even snow can’t stop the workings of temple life, it seems.
At the same time, he is making a spiritual statement as well. The temple bell, which represents Buddhism, will endure and continue no matter what disaster befalls it. Let’s dive more into this.
Issa followed Jōdo Shinshū (True Pure Land Buddhism). In that particular sect, they teach that we are living in a corrupt and fallen age, called Mappō (末法), an age of moral decline when while the teachings of the Buddha still exist, the ability to practice them correctly and achieve enlightenment through one’s own efforts (jiriki, 自力) is impossible. Therefore, the only hope, especially as Shinran taught, was to be be reborn in the Pure Land of Amida where one can finally practice correctly and be enlightened.[3]
Under that lens, we see that the snow here can very much be a metaphor for the difficulty with following the Dharma (i.e., practicing Buddhism) in this fallen world, but yet the practice is still available, it still persists beneath the hardship of the snow.
He wrote this early in his career, in 1790, when he was only 26 years old. This mixture of the spiritual and comedy would very much be a hallmark of his haiku throughout his life.
There are a number of things to do to ensure rebirth in the Pure Land, but the most important and most well-known is chanting the Nembutsu: “Namu Amida Butsu” (I take refuge in the Amida Buddha). ↩
And here is your daily almanac for Friday, the twelfth of January 2024.
Today we delve into the profound contributions of Mieko Kamiya, a notable figure in the field of Japanese psychology. Born on this day in 1914, Kamiya is widely recognized for her exploration and development of the concept of Ikigai, a term that has gained global recognition for its deep-rooted significance in Japanese culture. She was a very bright woman and spoke multiple languages. Among her works was a translation of Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, which was one of her favorite books. She is mostly remembered today, however, for ikigai. Just within the past few years there have been an assortment of books on ikigai published all around the world so I’m sure you’ve heard of it.
Ikigai, loosely translated as “a reason for being,” is a concept that Kamiya explored in depth, suggesting that discovering one’s Ikigai is crucial to a fulfilling life. Her work emphasizes the importance of finding value and purpose in daily activities and the profound impact this has on mental health and wellbeing. Kamiya’s theories offer insight into the Japanese psyche and continue to influence both psychological discourse and everyday life.
Kamiya’s work in the field of psychology, particularly in post-war Japan, provided a much-needed perspective on dealing with trauma and finding meaning in life’s challenges. Her legacy is a testament to the resilience and depth of the human spirit.
Also born on this day was Kentarō Haneda (1949–2007), a composer known for his remarkable contributions to the world of music, particularly in film and video game soundtracks. Haneda’s work includes the soundtrack for the popular ‘Wizardry’ video game series, a testament to his ability to create immersive and emotionally resonant musical landscapes. His compositions continue to be celebrated for their creativity and depth.
Here’s a nice tune he did for Space Cobra with Yuji Ohno.
Today’s rokuyō is senshō (先勝), traditionally considered a day where the morning is auspicious, but caution is advised in the afternoon when the luck turns bad. (Read more about the rokuyō here[1])
On the old calendar, today would have been the second day of the twelfth month. About a month to go until the old New Year, which most of Asia still celebrates as Lunar New Year.
We are in the midst of Shōkan (小寒), the beginning of the coldest season, and the microseason shimizu atataka o fukumu (水泉動), when the spring water begins to stir. This time symbolizes the awakening and movement beneath the surface. Make no mistake, this is considered the cold time of the year—the coldest is still yet to come—but just like you can find the seed of the opposite color in each side of the yin/yang symbol, the Japanese of old recognized that even in this cold time, hints of the spring to come are already beginning.
Snow at Oirase at Lake Towada by Henmi Takashi
Here’s a haiku from Takako:
箸とるときはたとひとりや雪ふり来る hashi toru toki hata hitori ya yuki furi furu
as I take up my chopsticks
it hits me, i am alone—
the snow keeps falling
In the Snow by Kawase Hasui
Takako’s husband died fairly young, leaving her a widow in her thirties. Her verse evokes the deep solitude felt in the quiet of a snowfall. The kigo (season word) snow for late winter, underscores the sense of isolation and reflection during the coldest time of the year
As we experience the chill of Shōkan and reflect on the stirring of spring water, let us ponder on the intertwining of solitude, purpose, and creativity, illustrated for us by the journeys of Kamiya, Haneda, and Takako. May their stories inspire us to embrace both the solitary and purposeful aspects of our lives.Be well, do good work, and stay in touch.
Yes, I still haven’t moved this page to this website yet. I assure you this page on Hive is mine. I need to make an effort to move it to this site soon. ↩
