Jasmine Rice

As usual weekends are spent looking for household necessities, this past weekend we made a trip down to the port city of Yokohama.

Why travel all the way down to Yokohama, I hear you ask, only for one reason, to look for that ever elusive grain - Jasmine rice. You see, Yokohama has the largest Chinatown in Japan and Jasmine (long grain thai grade) rice is as rare in Tokyo as warts on a Barbie Princess' face. To us Singaporeans, rice isn't rice unless it's jasmine rice (well at least for me). Japanese short grain, sticky rice is a poor second and it's getting on my nerves...

So off we went, empty backpack in tow, hoping to fill it up with chinese goodies. As it turns out, getting to Yokohama was easy as pie, and the walk from the station to Chinatown took only 15 minutes. The weather was cold, but the sun was out. It looked to be a beautiful day.

Barbies at the Gate

Yokohama Chinatown is basically a loud, garish reproduction of a B-grade chinese movie set. Every corny icon of chinese culture is crammed into a space no bigger then 2 football fields. Char siew paos are sold, steaming hot, from almost every shop. It is an assault on the senses especially on the eyes and ears, ironically everything is in Japanese... go figure.

Grabbing a quick lunch at a hole-in-the-wall establishment, I looked forward to satiating my need for fresh char siew. Mei and Nicole had cold chicken rice (sticky rice... sigh) and I ordered a bowl of char siew noodles. It was nothing like what we get at home, it was awful. This only fueled the need to find my JASMINE RICE.

¥6000 lighter and decidedly unsatisfied we decided to explore the alleyways that branched from the main Chinatown street. Small mom & pop shops revealed themselves through the visual carnage and it looked like our luck was turning. Dried scallops, har mai, foo pei, salted prunes, even egg noodles appeared before us. And then... there it was... glowing in a dark corner of a small shop, a ray of sunlight bouncing off it's beautiful packaging, it was calling my name as I approached, it had to be... it was. 5 kilograms of grade A, long grain, Thai Jasmine rice. Heaven on earth. We had found our pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I swear 'too much heaven' by the bee gees began to play... I grabbed the pack lovingly, cradling it in my arms I carefully carried it to the counter and with a big smile asked - How much?

¥3000! ARE YOU INSANE! THAT'S 30 US DOLLARS... FOR A PACK OF FRIGGIN' RICE!!

The old japanese lady, sitting coyly behind the counter, shrugged and looked at me with the 'you-want-this-shit-you-pay-for-it-you-dumb-gaijin' look. Grudgingly, I paid and stuffed the rice into my backpack.

That night, Mei whipped up a deliciously authentic chinese dinner with ingredients from the wonderful carepack we received the day before from my mother-in-law (filled with singapore spices and sauces! Thanks Mum!). It was a wonderful taste of home.

And I enjoyed every last grain of the most expensive bowl of rice I have ever had...