When Chris originally booked this trip to Japan, he didn’t book it realizing that New Year’s is the biggest holiday of the year in Japan, so he didn’t think much about booking shinkansen tickets in advance. Somehow, we got lucky with the Tokyo > Osaka shinkansen booking, as that was only done a couple weeks out: we were not only able to get preferred seats on a Nozomi for oversized baggage space (directly behind our seats), but we were even able to move up our ticket to about an hour before since we had more time than we’d anticipated getting from Narita into Tokyo station when we first arrived. But when we got to Osaka, this was a bit of a false security. When Chris looked to book tickets for January 3 to return to Tokyo, every single train and seat he looked at after 8am was sold out. The only seat options remaining were between 5am to 7:39am. So he booked us on a Nozomi at 7:39am on Wednesday to return to Tokyo late morning. Unfortunately, this would cut our Osaka time by about half a day, as we were hoping to visit Osaka Castle and also try the local Osaka version of okonomiyaki, but those things, sadly, would have to wait for another future visit.

It wasn’t the end of the world, though. While it wasn’t great to have our Osaka time cut short, especially since we didn’t even visit Osaka in July 2015, it is in no way disappointing or awful that we had extra time in Tokyo! We used the day to re-visit Tsukiji and got a table at Sushiko, a restaurant that had been on my list from our last visit, and who was happy to accommodate our active toddler. Pookster had a high chair to sit in. We folded her stroller and placed it in the front, and given we’re in Japan, there was never a worry that anyone would steal it (I would NEVER feel comfortable leaving my stroller unattended in New York City, as I’ve heard the worst horror stories about strollers being stolen in broad day light when the owner was just steps away from it!). And to our surprise and delight, the menu even had a kid’s plate, which was recommended for children ages 5-10, but that’s fine: we got it for Pookster anyway, and we figured that if she didn’t eat it, we could eat it as our own appetizer. At about 700 JPY (or $4.81 USD), it was quite the steal: it had four pieces of rolled sushi stuffed with natto (Japanese fermented soy beans, a sticky and acquired taste!), two pieces of tamago (Japanese rolled omelet that is a little sweet), three generous, fat pieces of nigiri (tuna, salmon, and a very, very sweet and large prawn!), and a small bowl of medium grain, steamed Japanese white rice topped with a beautiful helping of ikura (salmon roe, a salty-sweet, flavorful, mouth-popping wonder!). To be honest, Kaia had bits of the natto sushi and gave up. She then tried a bite of the ikura and decided “all done!” So, appetizer it was for us!

As for ourselves, we got a massive sushi/nigiri platter with so many types of fish, prawn, and ikura that I am in no way educated enough to know or share what they all were, but I can say with no doubt that each bite was incredibly fresh, sweet, and delicious. Initially, I found my respiratory pathways cleared suddenly with the strong smear of freshly grated wasabi on each bite of nigiri, but my body quickly adjusted to this spicy addictive root and savored each zing. We washed it all down with some sake and a yuzu sour (I was determined to get my plum wine and yuzu fix as often as possible while in Japan!). In total, for all that gorgeous fish and two alcoholic drinks, our total bill came to about $80 USD. It was a very, very delicious bargain.

After our sushi fix, we wandered a bit around Tsujiki, then headed to Ginza for some shopping, had tea at a Mariages Freres tea salon, and then ended up at the Marunouchi Building. I love how all these big tall Tokyo buildings have SO much packed into them. There are the food basements that have endless omiyage (gifts/souvenirs) you can pick up, along with food to eat; and floors and floors separated by a quick up and down on the elevator or escalator of different restaurants and dining options. In the Marunouchi Building, we ended up at the Akanoren ramen joint for Hakata-style tonkotsu ramen. For $7-9 USD each, we had a large slurpy bowl of straight thin ramen noodles in a creamy white rich broth. I was pleasantly surprised to see how lean my slices of chasu were. And even though tonkotsu broth is supposed to be on the heavier side, I didn’t feel like it was too fatty or rich at all. The broth was actually a bit lighter than I’d originally thought based on looking at it. In fact, both of us finished ALL our broth, which almost never happens when we have ramen in New York! Kaia especially enjoyed these noodles soaked in the rich broth and ate a helping of ramen that even her dad was shocked about!

As Chris says, even the average restaurants in Japan for dishes like ramen that do not have endless queues are still, on average, going to be delicious, especially when you compare them to what we can get back home. And that’s really the comparison, right? It would be challenging to say that this bowl is inferior to any other tonkotsu we’ve enjoyed in Japan that had a long wait. We think they’re all freaking delicious and perfect.

Assuming that you actually have taste in food, eating in Japan is like a dance on your tongue: there are endless textures and flavors and mouth feels that it could never possibly get boring. There are the regional differences, such as okonomiyaki (fried savory pancake) of Osaka (ingredients all mixed) versus Hiroshima (ingredients are layered, AND they include a very generous layer of NOODLES!), differences based on different climates, geographies, and specialities (Hakata style ramen with its milky white pork bone broth vs. Sapporo ramen for its miso-based broth vs. Kitakata ramen for its soy sauce based pork broth, etc.), and one thing many people don’t think about when they think of Japanese cuisine: chili peppers! While Japanese food is not known to be spicy, very hot chili peppers are used liberally in southern Kyushu, southern Kanto and Izu, and Okinawa.

Given all this, it’s hard to spend any time in Japan and not eat well. You can eat well regardless of whether you are going to an onigiri stand off the street that sells stuffed rice balls for the equivalent of $1.50-3 USD each, $6 non-descript ramen shop, a 3-Michelin star sushi omakase, a renowned French restaurant (according to the New York Times food section, Japan is the place to go for the world’s best French food now. They wrote that French people just don’t want to take the time and energy to slave away in kitchens, while Japanese people not only love French food, but they are obsessed with the technique, learn it in France, then bring it back to Japan for everyone there to enjoy), or the takeaway counter at the nearby train/shinkansen station. Our first meal was takeaway from a spot at Tokyo Station, where Chris got us three ekiben (“eki” means “station,” and “ben” is short for “bento,” so station bento boxes or boxed meals) of A5 beef over rice with tamago, unagi over rice, and another beef bento. We inhaled our food, which in total cost about $12 each, but could easily sell for twice that amount if you had sold the same bento in New York. These are the relatively inexpensive things you can enjoy while visiting Japan; you know you are getting “value” because something equivalent (and likely lower quality, relatively speaking) will either cost a lot more where you came from, or just be a smaller quantity.

We took a day trip to Kobe on Tuesday, where we (of course) sought out a Kobe beef restaurant that would be comfortable enough for a toddler. We landed on a spacious restaurant called Mouriya, which specializes in Kobe beef. We chose two set menus, one for Kobe rump steak and one for Kobe ribeye, which came with ample additions, including seasonal soup (ours was pumpkin – very creamy!), rice/bread of choice, a generous helping of various vegetables (even lotus root!), and tea/coffee to end. The quality of the beef was just as high as you’d expect it to be, and the ribeye really did melt in your mouth almost like butter. I especially liked that Mouriya had chefs that would cook all the food in front of us, so it served as entertainment both for us and for Pookster, who really loved interacting with our chef. She giggled endlessly in the beginning as he made cute gestures and waved to her. It probably also made our seating arrangement more bearable for her for a longer time, especially since as a toddler, she cannot sit still for too long anywhere.

Kobe beef was expected, but what we weren’t quite expecting was the ubiquity of sweet potatoes in desserts everywhere. I was aware of this trend before this trip because I’d see social media posts and videos about this recent Japanese food trend. You couldn’t go to any neighborhood in Osaka, Kobe, or Tokyo where there was not at least one or two sweet potato dessert options. Certain places were fully devoted to the sweet potato theme, serving sweet potato custard, ice cream, and cakes. Others sold sweet potato based smoothies (wow!). A lot of stands just sold sweet potatoes that were roasted, split open and given a sugar topping, then “bruleed” on top with a torch. I saw so many young children running around with this sweet. I suppose this was a “healthy” dessert option for a child, so I totally understood why parents would give this to their school-age children. While we didn’t indulge in the sweet potato brulee, we did pick up a little custard from a train station stand in Osaka that was topped with a pureed sweet potato swirl, sprinkled with candied baked pieces of sweet potato. It definitely DID taste like sweet potato, but a little sweeter of course. These types of desserts can actually make you feel less “guilty” about indulging in dessert. It’s no wonder it’s so popular here!

On our first full day in Osaka, we knew that it would be a lot quieter because a lot of people would be taking time off for the New Year, which is Japan’s largest holiday of the year. Unlike in places like China, Vietnam, or Korea, Japan had actually adopted the Gregorian calendar, so they do not follow the Lunar New Year calendar. Businesses tend to close for a few days or even a full week for New Year’s. So unfortunately for us, we would not see Osaka in its total prime from a restaurant/eatery standpoint. But never fear: there’s always something delicious around the corner!

While wandering through the Shinsekai neighborhood of Osaka on New Year’s Eve, we passed not just the Tsutenkaku Tower, but also walked through this relatively small and almost hidden shopping arcade called the Shinsekai Shijo. Inside, while a lot of stalls were closed likely for New Year’s, there were still a few stalls open, including a fresh noodle stall, a stall specializing in different tsukemono (Japanese pickles!), and a little grocer. What really caught our eye, though, was a little queue that was forming in front of what appeared to be a butcher stall. It was called Niku No Sakamoto Butcher, and we could smell some delicious deep frying happening. Upon closer inspection, we realized that people were not actually lining up for raw cuts of meat, but freshly fried beef katsu and pork katsu sandwiches! As soon as I saw there was fresh food and a tiny line, I did what any curious foodie/traveler would do: I joined the line!

There was one person in charge of deep frying and taking orders/handling money. There was an Indian man behind the counter whose sole job it was to cut the bread crusts off the perfect thick white slices of milk bread. And then there was another worker who was in charge of cutting meat into perfect, square shapes. One queue was there to order. A second crowd/pseudo queue was there to pick up the fresh order. There were markers to designate where to stand, where to order, where to pay. It was Japanese efficiency at its finest.

We ordered a tonkatsu sando, so pork katsu that was served between two pieces of thick cut toasted milk bread with what appeared to be a little Kewpie mayonnaise and a tad bit of mustard. There was also a sweet-savory brown sauce slathered on the katsu that was delicious. But what really got us when we picked up the sandwich, tucked into a plastic takeaway container and cut perfectly and symmetrically into six even pieces, was exactly how crispy the outside of the pork was. Each bite was extremely crunchy and just shattered in your mouth. There was certainly no reusing of any oil here, and those panko crumbs had achieved their desired effect of crunch, crunch, and more crunch!

If that is what a proper tonkatsu sando is supposed to be, then that was definitely perfection. My only regret was not ordering an additional beef tonkatsu sando, which was over double the price, but I did notice so many people ordered this and seemed to be salivating all over theirs.

Until I was 28 years old, I had no idea why wafer cookies/biscuits were so popular. My grandma had quite a sweet tooth, so we always had all kinds of packaged cookies at home growing up. This vast cookie selection included wafer biscuits, which I never really understood. The ones she used to buy always had a weird, cardboard-like texture, seemed semi-stale, and were rarely satisfying in the least bit. The flavor was always muted, some form of vanilla or chocolate, and I always wondered how anyone could think these things were tasty. They seemed like the kind of cookie you’d eat when you were just hungry and needed something to eat, rather than something you looked forward to eating because of how delicious it was.

Then, while in Vienna, Austria, during our European Thanksgiving trip in November 2014, my outlook of the wafer biscuit changed forever. Every market or grocery store we went into had these Manner wafer biscuits on display in this bright pink packaging that was hard to miss. The packaging was simple: bright pink with a picture of the wafer biscuits along with whole hazelnuts, along with the name “Manner” written in cursive letters, with the Vienna Rathaus in the background. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try them, so I bought a few packages. They were also super cheap — one of the few items in Austria at the time I actually thought WERE cheap.

I opened a package and took one bite… and was wowed. Each layer of the wafer biscuit was super thin, very crispy, and the hazelnut flavor was extremely distinct within the chocolate. There’s no way that if you knew what hazelnut tasted like that you wouldn’t know there was hazelnut in those thin chocolate wafers. And in that moment, I realized that it wasn’t that I didn’t like wafer biscuits… it’s that I just never had the opportunity have a REALLY GOOD wafer biscuit. None of the wafer biscuits I’d had to date came even remotely close to how delicious this one was, in both taste and texture. In that moment, I’d had finally had a delicious wafer biscuit — one that I’d be loyal to forever.

Manner has several other flavors for their wafer biscuits, including lemon and coconut, but I’m an originalist with these wafers and prefer the hazelnut. Plus, I just love love all things hazelnut chocolate. I read more about Manner after I had these. While they do distribute to over 50 countries around the world, including the U.S., of course the biscuits cost more elsewhere outside of Austria. To this day, it is still a family-owned company headquartered out of Vienna with another production location in southern Austria. The company is named after Josef Manner, the founder of this delicious version of the wafer biscuit.

So when we did that six-hour side trip to Vienna from Bratislava on Friday, we saw a Manner shop, and I knew we had to go in and check it out. I picked up a few Manner biscuit packages, along with some chocolates you buy by the weight. Although it was a small purchase, it made me so, so happy. Manner made me realize how delicious a wafer biscuit could really be. And that’s really how I see most people’s perspectives on what they like and dislike with food: many times, it’s not that we don’t like X food; it’s actually that we haven’t had the best version of it. That’s my optimistic side when it comes to all things edible.

While we do a lot of research for our trips regarding where to see and eat, inevitably, what also happens is that planned restaurants don’t always work out because of vacation closures or no open tables, or we happen to be in a different area where we didn’t map anything for food. Other times, we stumble upon hidden or local gems just by walking around and keeping our eyes wide open. While walking in Bratislava on Friday morning, we came across the Stara Trznica, or the old market hall of Bratislava. It’s a restored market hall, originally built in 1910, that’s also used for various cultural events, that also holds a weekend farmers and local street food markets. Since the farmers market would be open the next day, we came back on Saturday morning to check it out. It was one of my favorite things that we visited and enjoyed while in Bratislava. The entire place had a real locals feel. The market hall had two levels: the main ground level had all the food and farmers vendors, while the second level had arts/crafts/music vendors, plus a large space for children’s performances and a children’s play area complete with bouncy castles and such (which Kaia loved and was mad that she couldn’t stay all day at!).

We got to enjoy both levels and sampled a lot of delicious things, including freshly made crepes (they are huge here in Bratislava! Though appearance-wise, they are typically rolled), fruit and poppyseed-filled strudel, honey wine (medovina), mulled wine, and Slovakian pastries. There was one vendor in particular I made a beeline for that had a long but quickly moving queue: Pekarenske Vyrobky, a bakery stall that had endless tantalizing pastries. I had a difficult time deciding which ones I wanted, but in the end, I chose two: a moravsky kolac and a cokoladovo. The morvasky kolac was a flat round bready pastry topped with a thick layer of plum jam, sweetened poppy seeds, and blobs of sweetened soft cheese. The cokoladovo was a huge, rounded, large-mug-shaped pastry that was twisted and croissant-like, with a very smooth, dark, not-too-sweet chocolate swirled throughout it. While I enjoyed the moravsky kolac, I was totally obsessed with the cokoladovo: I couldn’t believe how pillowy and soft the dough was, and I really, really loved the chocolate in it, which really was not sweet at all. At first, I felt a little confused and was unsure whether it was really chocolate. But I realized it was chocolate, just very dark and not as sweet as I am used to in pastries. Chris was obsessed with the entire market vibe and all the drink vendors. We were also shocked to see how cheap all the Slovakian wines were. If you wanted a glass at any of the stalls, they were no more than 1.50-2 euros for a generous pour, which many people were partaking in. A full bottle was usually around 11-12 euros, all locally sourced and made.

I loved this market so much. I loved the family-friendly vibe and all the samples and all the local foods. I loved how friendly all the vendor workers were. I even liked the bathroom setup, which was super clean, cleaned every hour, and the large, cushy changing table that I used for Pookster. I wish we could have spent more time there to eat and sample more, but alas, so much to eat and see, with so little time.

As you can probably imagine, every time we take a trip, whether it’s to Poughkeepsie or Boston or Bratislava, I always spend a good amount of time researching what to eat and where. I want to know what local traditions and foods are and what regional specialties we can seek out and taste. One of the things that came up in both Czechia and Slovakia was trdelnik, which is a round, hollow baked cake that is wrapped around a stick, rotated and baked, then rolled in sugar, cinnamon, nuts, and other toppings. When I saw photos of trdelnik, I immediately remembered seeing it virtually at every Christmas market we’ve ever visited throughout Europe in the last ten years (in Germany and Austria, it’s called baumkuchen). I just never stopped to try one. It seemed a little touristy to get it, and I wasn’t sure how good it would actually be. But given trdelnik originates in the general Czechia/Slovakia/Hungary area, I figured that this was a good time and place to finally try it.

We ran out of time to get it in Prague, so when I saw a stall at the Bratislava main square Christmas market freshly churning them out, I knew I had to get it. Thursday was the first night of the Bratislava Christmas markets, so it was quite quiet and there weren’t any crowds. Thus, I was able to walk right up to the stall and ask for a fresh one. I got it the traditional way, simply rolled in cinnamon and sugar. When the vendor handed it to me, it was still warm from the oven. I took one bite, and I was in love: the chimney was nice and thin, super crunchy on the outside, but soft and chewy on the inside. The cinnamon sugar coating was just enough to add a bit of sweetness, but not too much. Pookster started whining immediately when she saw me eat it, so I caved in and indulged her with some. I liked it so much that on our last night in Bratislava, I waited at least 15 minutes in a long line at the same stall for one just-out-of-the-oven (on Saturday, the market was PACKED, nothing like the first night of the market on Thursday!). It was SO fresh, piping hot and steaming when the vendor handed it to me. This time, I got it with vanilla sugar, and I loved it just as much. While the line was long and moved slowly because all the trdelnik were being made to order, it was fun to watch all the workers inside the stall rolling the dough around the spits, putting them into the open oven, and periodically pulling them out to check for doneness.

Now that I know the beauty and deliciousness of trdelnik, I have a feeling I will always get it now whenever I see it being made fresh at a Christmas market. It’s fun to eat and look at, and I loved watching it be made. Plus, I have a feeling Pookster is going to want more, too.

We took a 4-hour train ride from Prague to Bratislava yesterday morning. During the train ride, I thought about how interesting it was that when I was born, the Czech Republic and Slovakia did not exist; they were once a country known as Czechoslovakia; but what’s more notable is that if you ask anyone who identifies with either nationality, it was considered an “amicable split” (unfortunately, we cannot say the same for North Korea and South Korea….). And as I was studying basic words and greetings in Czech and Slovak, I thought it was also interesting that although they are two distinct languages, many words and sayings overlap. Plus, it’s similar to how if you speak Cantonese, you can also understand some Mandarin because of overlap of sounds. So even if someone is speaking Czech to someone who is speaking Slovak, both can understand each other and converse without ever properly speaking the other’s language. So, if you want to say “thank you” in Czech, it’s “dekuji,” but in Slovak, it’s “dakujem.” The sound is similar and if you say it quickly, they can almost sound the same to an untrained ear.

While researching food for both countries, I was excited to learn that duck is a popular dish eaten during this time of year as we enter the colder months. We don’t have duck very often at all, and when we do, it’s usually Chinese style from our favorite Cantonese style roastery in Manhattan Chinatown. We had our first meal at a restaurant in the Old Town of Bratislava shortly after we arrived, and to our delight, both of the seasonal specials on the menu included duck. The first was a seared duck breast served with duck au jus, pumpkin puree, and oddly enough, crumbled gingerbread. The second was fried duck pirohy (dumplings) served with two dipping sauces. We also ordered garlic soup with egg “noodles” (they were shredded omelet strips), which is a popular Slovak dish, as well. All our food was washed down with a local Slovak beer (beer is just as refreshing and delicious in Slovakia as it is in the Czech Republic!) and a hot pear “lemonade” (not lemonade at all, but a warm fizzy dink with pear juice and warming autumnal spices). The dishes were all delicious: the duck breast was perfectly cooked, though I did wish the skin was a bit crispier; the duck pirohy really blew me away. They were clearly fried in duck fat to make them even more decadent, and when you sliced one of the dumplings in half, they were stuffed to the BRIM with shredded duck. There was certainly no skimping here! Chris I both marveled over how relatively inexpensive these duck specials were at less than 20 euros per dish. In New York, we’d likely pay double what we paid here.

Kaia didn’t really eat the duck breast, but she did enjoy the duck pirohy, as well as the gingerbread. It was a delicious first meal in Bratislava, followed by a trip to the main square Christmas market, which was our first Christmas market this season!

When Chris booked our trip to Prague and Bratislava, while I was excited for the sights, Christmas markets, and the pastries/desserts, I will be honest and say that the day to day food that Central Europe is known for is not really up my alley. I love spices, heat, texture, and complexity in food. The simple meat and potatoes food culture has never really been on my top cravings list. In fact, Chris always makes fun of the other kids at Kaia’s school when we talk about the sheer variety of food we have exposed her to, from different cuisines to various spices to even chili peppers. He likes to say, “well, of course she likes / eats (insert food we feed her). She doesn’t just eat meat and potatoes like all those other kids.”

But you know what? When I’m in Prague or anywhere in Central Europe, I am happy to eat local food and try new things. I rarely have eaten potato “dumplings” made from a dumpling “loaf” sliced like bread slices and presented with goulash. Beef and pork are commonly eaten in rich stews in this part of the world, as are potatoes in many forms, whether it’s boiled or mashed and pressed into dumplings. Our first meal at a restaurant (canteen style, where you take a tray and a ticket, then go to each stall and choose what you want, then pay at the end) on our first night was beef goulash (Czech style, which is apparently different from Hungarian style according to the menu – always learning!) stew with sliced potato dumplings, along with the local favorite beer on tap, Pilsner Urquell. The goulash was pretty tasty, and the texture of the potato dumplings really surprised me. It looked dense when you peer over it, but when you cut into it with a fork and eat it, it’s actually quite fluffy and spongy.

For something sweet to end our meal, we also had knedliky for the first time, which are sweet dessert dumplings made with quark, a type of soft cheese, flour, egg, yeast, and some sugar. They are typically filled with a fruit — most commonly apricot or berries. Once you choose the fruit filling for your sweet dumplings, the server then ladles a big dollop of a warm, sweet cheese based sauce, along with a sprinkling of savory cheese. I was pleasantly surprised — it was quite satisfying! I could see how people could grow up eating knedliky and have them as a craving.

It was a hearty meal, and one that would fill us up and keep us warm at the beginning of this cold week.