Soup surprise

When I returned to the States, I decided to surprise some friends and my boyfriend Bob with an authentic Japanese dinner at my apartment in Twin Peaks. I had acquired the necessary bowls and costumes to perform the ritual, and was excited to show them what I had learned in the Orient.

I caught a bus to Chinatown to have my hair fixed in a traditional geisha style. After a couple of hours with a beautician, my long brown hair was wrapped in a bun high on the back of my head. Protruding from my twisted hair were tiny bells and ornaments attached to silver sticks.

When I left the salon, the smell of sandalwood hit me as I crossed Grant Avenue and entered a pet store to buy some fish. Although I wore Western clothes, my hairstyle made dinging sounds with each step I took. I picked out six minnows and requested that they be placed in a plastic bag.

The sales clerk asked, “Would you like a bowl for the fish?”

“No thanks,” I answered. “They’ll be eaten tonight.”

She stared at me and slowly backed away.

At my apartment I dressed in my light-blue kimono and added a pair of tabis. I gazed into the mirror and thought I looked pretty authentic.

When Bob and four friends arrived, they removed their shoes and coats. In full geisha dress I helped the men put on happi coats: black, cotton, shirt-like jackets adorned with painted flowers and belted at the waist.

My kimono draped downward in the back, showing off the soft, sensual nape of my neck. The nape is very sexual to Japanese men. I’m not sure Bob noticed the curve below my hairline, but he liked my look.

“You look fabulous. What a surprise. I can’t wait for dinner.”

We toasted ourselves with hot sake, wine made from rice, and began the four-course dinner. At department stores in Japan place settings of five are sold because the hostess does not eat with the guests. Instead, she waits on them throughout the meal. My five guests ate with chopsticks, sitting on floor cushions in the living room. For dinner I presented rice, a fish soup, sukiyaki (beef cooked with vegetables), and yakitori (grilled poultry). Hot sake accompanied every course.

I had placed a small hibachi in the living room fireplace so I could cook and visit at the same time. The first course was a clear, spiced soup with a live minnow swimming in a small bowl. My guests let the fish flop awkwardly on the back of their tongues for a few seconds before swallowing.

“That was interesting,” Bob remarked. “Squirming objects in my mouth, however, are probably not my favorite food choice.”

Nevertheless, my Japanese dinner was a success. We all had a wonderful time with lots of laughter and lots of sake. However, no one suggested we make arrangements for another. This was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime meal.

Дата добавления: 2015-08-27