The mysteries (and physics) of miso soup

In my Feb. 21 column in The Japan Times, I wrote about strange phenomena in miso soup, sent in by an observant reader. He noticed that his soup seemed to be moving around in the bowl of its own accord. And then as it cooled it formed a mysterious ball in the center. The photo in the paper did a fair job of capturing the ball, but there’s nothing like moving pictures to catch miso in motion! Click on the videos below to see for yourself.

First, a video of the moya moya モヤモヤ cloudy bits churning around in the soup:

The video above was posted by a physicist who said he was so fascinated to find an example of convection in his lunch that he forgot to eat his soup. Bundles of hot molecules (called “convection cells”) are rising out of the interior of the soup to let off heat at the surface, then fall back down into the soup to be reheated so they can rise again to release more heat. If the liquid was clear, you wouldn’t be able to see this movement, but the suspended solids make it possible to track the movement. In Japanese, “convection” is tairyū 対流.

Here’s another video of the same phenomenon:

Finally, in the course of my research, I came across another miso mystery that I couldn’t include in my article for lack of space. Watch this bowl of miso trying to escape across the table! (Warning: turn down your volume before you click — Japanese restaurants in the U.S. must be loud!)

Can you explain how this happened? It’s hard to tell in this image, but the bowls used for miso have an indentation under the bowl. Air trapped in this cavity is heated by the soup in the bowl above, and starts to expand, lifting the whole bowl upwards. The bottom of the bowl or the surface of the table must be wet, reducing the friction between the bowl and the table, allowing the bowl to slide as it’s elevated.

Subway safety: platform doors ホームドア

I wrote about platform doors in my January 17 column in The Japan Times, in response to a question from a reader who questioned whether these new safety barriers on train platforms amount to “typically Japanese paternalistic over-protection.”

Half-height platform doors on Tokyo Metro's Yurakucho Line (photographed at Ikebukuro station)

Lord knows there’s plenty of official mollycoddling in Japan, from the “mind your step” announcements played in an endless loop at the bottom of escalators, to the men in hard hats who bow us around even minor construction. As my friend Fumiko fumes when handled in such a fashion, “What are we, idiot children?”

In that light, I thought it would be interesting to point out that it’s not just Japan that wants to keep people from falling onto the tracks: similar platform doors are in use in at least 44 cities, mostly in Asia and Europe. First, here’s a photo of the platform doors on the new Line 11 in Barcelona, Spain:

And a shot of the Blue Line in Bangkok:

And one more, from London:

A view of Westminster station on the Jubilee Line extension

Meanwhile, back here in Tokyo, JR has installed half-height platform doors at two stations on the Yamanote line (Ebisu and Meguro). The next stations in line for a retrofit are Osaki, Ikebukuro, Otsuka, Sugamo, Komagome, Shinokubo, Mejiro, Takadanobaba and Tamachi.

Newly installed doors at Ebisu Station on the Yamanote Line in Tokyo

What do you think? Read the rationale for platform doors, as summarized in my column. Then leave a comment. Is this a waste of money? Or a sensible investment in passenger safety and reliable service?

The Diorama Maps of Nishino Sohei 西野壮平

If you can get to the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography by Sunday Jan. 29, I recommend dropping by the elan photographic exhibit to see a remarkable set of photo-collages by Nishino Sohei. That’s his re-piecing of Tokyo above but a small blog photo doesn’t do it justice, believe me. See it in person if at all possible. There are eight other “diorama maps” in the exhibit, of cities in Japan and around the world that he walked and photographed, including New York, London and Istanbul. For more information, please see the access the review I wrote earlier this month for Japan Times.

Nanakusa Vegetable Juice 七草野菜ジュース！

Today — January 7 — is jinjitsu 人日, one of the five sekku 節句 — days on the traditional Japanese calendar where one observes special customs of the season. Today is the day to make a rice porridge flavored with nanakusa, 七草　（seven spring herbs).

Instead of cooking up the usual porridge, I decided to tweak the custom and put the seven herbs in my daily vegetable juice instead. I raided the nanakusa basket I wrote about in a previous post, and added komatsuna greens, parsley, celery top, yellow bell pepper, a cherry tomato, and the juice of one fresh lemon. I finished it off with a teaspoon of first-press natane abura 菜種油 (rapeseed oil), which I got on my recent trip to Awajishima. This oil is particularly high in vitamin E, which aids absorbtion of the nutrients in the veggies. I also added a pinch of mojio 藻塩, a gourmet salt made from seaweed. It’s also from Awajishima. If you’re interested in trying it, you can buy it on Amazon Japan by clicking here. It’s a great salt.

Here’s the finished product! Yum! And spicy! À santé! To health!

Nanakusa – 7 greens for a healthy start for the new year

At the very end of the year, as I was rushing between a meeting and a dentist appointment, I got a surprise visit from Shimizu-san, the gardener who put in my wonderful Japanese balcony garden. He was bringing me, as a year-end gift and thank you for my business, a nanakusa no kago (photo above). It’s a little basket planted with seven spring herbs.

• seri (芹) – water dropwort (Oenanthe javanica)
• gogyō (御形) – jersey cudweed (Gnaphalium affine D. Don)
• nazuna (薺) – shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)
• hakobe (繁縷) – common chickweed (Stellaria media)
• hotokenoza (仏の座) – nipplewort (lapsana communis). The Japanese name is literally “Buddha’s seat”.
• suzuna (菘) – turnip leaf.
• suzushiro (蘿蔔) – daikon leaf.

The tradition is to make a rice porridge using these greens on Jan. 7. But that’s tomorrow and I don’t think I can bear to break up my basket arrangement to harvest the greens at home. So I’ll probably go buy a nanakusa set, which are widely sold in supermarkets, green grocers and department store food sections during the first week of the New Year. Here’s a photo:

Okuri Hyōshigi – The Fire-Patrol Ghost of Hongo

In my December 20 column in The Japan Times, I wrote about yomawari 夜回り　– — neighborhood fire patrols in which wooden sticks called hyōshigi 拍子木　are clapped together to warn residents to be careful of fire. If you look closely at the print at left, in the upper right hand corner, you’ll see a ghost carrying a pair of these sticks. That’s Okuri Hyōshigi 送り拍子木 or sometimes 送撃柝, a ghost who haunts the Hongo neighborhood of Tokyo. Or more accurately a mysterious phenomenon that is one of the Honjo Nana-Fushigi 本所七不思議 (Seven Wonders of Hongo). The print dates from about 1886 and is part of a series by Utagawa Kuniteru 歌川国輝. The Edo-era story goes that when fire patrols in Hongo would bang their sticks, they’d hear another set of sticks. Thinking there was another patrol out and about, they’d look around, but no one would be there.

Interestingly, my research on Okuri Hyōshigi led me to this book by Asuka Akio which claims that Okuri Hyōshigi and other Japanese ghost stories originated not in Japan but in ancient Jewish tradition.
The title is “Yudaya kara kita Nihon no Yōkaitachi,” ユダヤから来た日本の妖怪たち　(“Japanese Ghosts That Came from Judea”). This was so intriguing that I had to get my hands on a copy. (If you’re interested, it’s available on Amazon Japan by clicking here). I’m still trying to make my way through his argument, which cites the New Testament and gets into Freemasonry and pyramids. I’ll let you know if I figure it all out.

Finally, as promised at the end of my column, here’s a video, with some English subtitles and narration, that shows a typical Tokyo neighborhood fire patrol shot in December a few years ago.

Awaji Puppet Theater to Perform in Tokyo: Jan. 27 & 28

Fans of Bunraku and traditional puppet theater take note: the Awaji puppet troupe will be performing at the National Theater in Tokyo on January 27 and 28!
[Update, Nov. 29: I've just learned both performances are sold out.]

This is a rare opportunity to see the Awaji puppets away from their home base on Awajishima, the largest island in Japan’s Inland Sea. I was there last week, where I got my first look at Awaji Ningyo Joruri 淡路人形浄瑠璃. It’s a very old form of theater that combines puppets with dramatic recitation and shamisen accompaniment. I saw a scene from a play called the Keisei Awa Naruto 傾城阿波鳴門. The figures cloaked in black are the performers manipulating the puppets. Three for each puppet. You’re supposed to pretend you don’t see them.

This art form evolved from the religious and ritual use of puppets. Once upon a time, puppet artists from Awaji Island were known throughout the country with more than 1,000 performers in some 40 troupes performing on the island and throughout Japan. Uemera Burakuken, who founded the Bunraku Puppet Theater in Osaka in the 19th century, originally came from Awaji Island. I’d love to see Awaji puppetry as it was traditionally performed, outdoors and by candlelight.

The Awaji puppet troupe has performed in the United States, France and Spain, but they don’t come to Tokyo very often. Their last performance in the capital was several years ago, also at the National Theater. Here’s a snippet of video from their 2008 performance in New York.

The performance on Friday January 27, which begins at 6:30 pm, will feature the following works: three acts from the play Tamamono no mae Asahi no Tamoto 玉藻前曦袂 — Michiharu Yakata no Dan; 道春館の段; Shinzenen no Dan 神泉苑の段 and Kitsune Nanabake no Dan 狐七化けの段. The program for the Saturday performance, which begins at 1 pm, is Ebisu-mai(Dance of the Fisherman God)戎舞; Amagasaki no Dan 尼ヶ崎の段 from Ehondai Kouki 絵本太功記 and Kuramayama no Dan 鞍馬山の段 from Okushu Hidehira Uhatsu no Hanamuko 奥州秀衡有鬙壻.

Tickets are 3,600 yen for one performance, or 6,600 yen for both. Student tickets are 2,500 yen per performance. You can reserve seats by calling 0570-07-9900 or 03-3230-3000 between 10 and 5. It’s also possible to order tickets online; check out these instructions first. Please note that the performance is listed on the English website not as the Awaji Puppet Theater but as January Japanese Folk Performance.

You can also see Awaji puppet theater pretty much year round on Awaji Island at the Awaji Ningyoza theater. (No English on the website, unfortunately.)