Saturday, March 27, 2010

Toy Lunch Trucks

Some people cliff dive, others ice climb.  I used to do my thrill seeking at iffy eateries, like taco trucks and street fairs, both of which often feature food safety violations and nearby pit bulls.  What can I say--it made me feel alive.  The Professor banned me from high risk eating a few years ago when I was pregnant with Son of Z, but sometimes I still get the jones.  Luckily, there is a little tailgate party of trucks that gather over at the Yurakucho International Forum in Tokyo, just across from the enormous Bic Camera electronics store.  On a weekday, working stiffs can grab a fast, cheap, tasty, and shockingly hygienic lunch in the open air.

Balsamic glazed pork, basil chicken, beef stewed in red wine.  All out of this mini VW bus that's a little bit Beach Boys and a little bit Grateful Dead.

Omelets topped with stews and cream sauces--vive la lunch truck!

Jungle Foods has curries and a paint job that is taking me back to the Village in the 80's.

Check out the pop-up top on the falafel truck. Bill O'Reilly almost ruined falafel for me with his ethnically and anatomically confused dirty talk, but he didn't. I won't let him.

Little tumeric-yellow curry-mobile. Happiness on tiny wheels.

Buta-don (ribbons of seasoned pork over rice) with myriad toppings: green onions, kimchee, egg yolk, etc. Somehow buying it out of the back of a truck feels criminal, like you're buying counterfeit handbags or untaxed cigarettes.

Asia Lunch offers the same thrill, but with Southeast Asian curries and fried noodles. Spicy, y'all.

In the end, I went with this one--there was a roasty-herby-goodness aroma, and I followed it.
Barbecued chicken with tomato sauce over rice, mixed vegetables, and potato egg salad.  Hey, white asparagus in there! And yes, that is a paper container and little wooden spoon.  My inner Grandma is telling me to put the spoon in my purse and take it home.

It was downright wholesome in a provincial French way.  And the chicken tastes like chicken.  The chicken in Japan, to say nothing of the deep orange yolks and thick whites of the eggs, tastes more like the chicken I remember as a kid.  I can only attribute this to the fact that in relation to meat, if not  anime and manga, Japan is not as obsessed with giant breasts.  The hormones and assorted craziness that go into US chickens to make them look so buxom and taste like drywall just isn't the thing here, and you can taste the difference.

1 comment:

  1. From now on, whenever I see a minivan, I will salivate. Thank you for that.