The Good Old America (1)

The first time I traveled to the US for work was around 1984, during PITTCON. It was just before the release of the HPLC photodiode array detector. Atlantic City was a town of boardwalks and casinos. I found breakfast particularly delicious, especially the fresh orange juice. There were no “Low Fat” labels on milk or butter. The crispy bacon was unforgettable, but when I tried to recreate it at home after returning to Japan, I couldn’t quite replicate it. On the other hand, Japanese cuisine wasn’t as popular on the East Coast back then. After about four days of similar American food, I started to crave Japanese meals.

When I mentioned wanting Japanese food, the local manager thoughtfully made a reservation at a restaurant calling itself Japanese. A group of us went there, but what arrived at the table was sushi with rice resembling porridge and pickled radish that seemed to have leaked dye. The vinegar smelled so harsh it stung the nose. “What part of this is Japanese cuisine? It’s like some bizarre creation!” my companions chimed in unison. To this day, I still wonder how they made that porridge-like sushi.

Trying to make up for the experience, we decided to try Chinese food the next day. However, the restaurant didn’t have a license to serve alcohol. While this is still common in some places today, now I make sure to check before making reservations. Back then, we had no choice but to visit a nearby liquor store to bring beer ourselves. The waiter spoke so quickly and loudly that I couldn’t understand a word. When the dumplings we ordered arrived, they were about the size of bananas. The waiter, holding a large bottle of ketchup in his right hand, loudly declared, “This is special spicy sauce today, enjoy dinner!” Before anyone could react, he poured ketchup all over the massive dumplings. “What’s so special or spicy? It’s just ketchup!” muttered a colleague from Osaka. At that point, there was nothing we could do.

At the end of the trip, we stopped by the Nikko Hotel in San Francisco. During a Japanese breakfast there, that same colleague enthusiastically stirred his natto until it formed long threads, clearly enjoying himself.

Continued in “The Good Old America (2)”