尋找日本不爲人知的創意料理
I was on the Shinkansen bullet train and roaring north toward the Japan Sea at 125 miles per hour when I passed through the wormhole in space-time. The wormhole was on the far end of a long, unlit tunnel. Three-quarters of an hour earlier, in the midst of a sunny winter’s day, I’d boarded the train at the loud, insanely complex and many-leveled Tokyo main station, accompanied by my friend Bob Sliwa. We were bound for the coastal town of Kanazawa, sometimes known as the hidden pearl of the Japan Sea and famed for the freshness and variety of its fish-based cuisine.
新幹線子彈列車以125英里的時速在漫長而黑暗的隧道中飛馳，奔向北方的日本海。忽然，列車從隧道盡頭穿過，彷彿帶着我們從時空蟲洞一躍而出，來到另一個嶄新的世界。那是一個陽光燦爛的冬日。45分鐘之前，我和老友鮑勃·斯里瓦(Bob Sliwa)在人聲鼎沸、層次繁多、紛亂繁忙的東京站登上了這列動車，目的地是海濱城市金澤。金澤被譽爲日本海一顆鮮爲人知的明珠，以新鮮多樣的海鮮料理而聞名於世。
The trip there last winter was to be the climax of my weeklong attempt to find the hidden culinary truth of Japan, beyond the reach of guidebooks or the well-intentioned efforts of such celebrity investigators as Anthony Bourdain. My secret weapon in this was Bob himself, a man embedded in Japan for 30 years, deeply conversant in the ways and cuisines of the country and, by great good fortune, my college roommate.
這趟行程是我去年冬天爲期一週的日本之旅的高潮。此行目的是尋找日本料理不爲人所知的真相。這些真相在一般旅遊指南的介紹中是找不到的，即使那些安東尼·伯爾頓(Anthony Bourdain)之流的著名美食家用心良苦的努力也未能觸及。我的祕密武器就是老友鮑勃，他在日本生活了30年，對這個國家的飲食人文深有浸潤。我曾與他大學同窗，真是幸何如之。
We exited the tunnel into a crash of white light. On the far side was a winterscape of deep snow, mountain vistas and blowing wind. The day we’d been traveling through until then had been dry and mild, and the sudden atmospheric shift made it seem that we might, in fact, have just rocketed through a rift in space-time. Bob, stroking his goatee, laughed out loud at my confusion.
在我們穿出隧道的那一剎那，耀眼的白色陽光撲面而來。遠方是一片白雪皚皚、山巒起伏、寒風凜冽的冬季景色。在此之前，我們所到之處的天氣一直溫暖而乾燥。眼前氣候卻迥然不同，實在令人驚異，似乎我們真的實現了一次時空穿越。鮑勃捋着山羊鬍子，對我的困惑大聲笑了起來。
“We were climbing in the dark in that tunnel the whole time — didn’t you feel your ears pop?” he asked. “What you see here is the result of the steady wind blowing off the Japan Sea from China, picking up the moisture of the ocean along the way and throwing it against the mountains as snow — and lots of it. Think of the Continental Divide, Japan-style.”
“我們在那條黑暗的隧道里一直在向山上爬升——你沒覺得耳壓有變化嗎？”他說，“風從中國吹過日本海，帶來海上的溼氣，遇到高山阻隔後變成大量降雪，於是形成了窗外這樣的景色。這就是日本特色的大陸板塊氣候。”
I lowered my eyes from the Alpine visuals and back to my notes on the previous days’ eating and drinking. The pages, which were thick with arrows and exclamation points, seemed only to get more densely crosshatched as time went on, and for good reason. The dozen or so meals I’d had in Tokyo had been a marvel of consistent variation, ringing fluid changes of texture and flavor on those three little words that define the cuisine of this island nation at its heart: iso no aji, or “tastes like ocean spray.”
我的目光從積雪覆蓋的高山景色收回，落在攤開的筆記本上。那上面記錄了我這些日子裏享受的美酒美食，字裏行間充滿了各種箭頭和驚歎號。隨着時間的推移，這些記號愈發變得密密麻麻。在東京的十幾餐，多姿多彩的美食、流暢變幻的質感與風味，無不體現着島國料理之精髓，那簡單的三個字：iso no aji ——“浪之味”。
By agreement, the majority of places Bob and I had gone to so far were chosen to illustrate the point that the most creative cooking in Japan is no longer being done in A-list restaurants. Those places, which continue to serve up superb food, belong to the days when the country was still riding high atop the mighty economic surge that carried it from the ashes of World War II all the way to the forefront of the global market. They’re relics of the time when the Japanese, so expert at mimicry, sent their best young chefs to the high-end restaurants of France and Italy where their work ethic ensured them a rapid rise up the kitchen ladder, and upon their return, the creation of perfect interpretations of their previous employers’ cuisine.
這次我們共同選擇的多數餐館都是爲了證實一點，那就是日本最有創意的烹飪料理已不再屬於那些高檔餐飲會所。這些餐館仍然提供着最高端的食物，但他們卻屬於那已經逝去的年代。當時，日本從二戰的灰燼中站起，駕馭着經濟復甦的大潮，直至國際市場最前沿。作爲模仿的專家，日本把他們最好的年輕廚師送進法國和意大利的高檔餐館。他們刻苦工作，在餐飲業的職業階梯上一路攀升。當他們回到日本，也帶回了對就學之地烹飪藝術的完美詮釋。
It’s no accident that Tokyo has the highest number of Michelin-starred restaurants of any city in the world. But rather than sampling the wares of these warhorses, I’d arrived to try the second culinary wave, a quiet in-house revolution that is afoot all over the country. Driven by chefs mostly in their late 20s and early 30s, its inspiration was the collapse of that same economic surge in the early 1990s, followed by the now famous stagnation or “20 lost years,” as it’s referred to in the foreign press. As the country entered a period of soul-searching, these young chefs took the opportunity to throw off what Bob calls the “legacy exoskeleton” of manners and slavish obedience to groupthink and instead to begin advancing the cause of native ingredients, prepared with great care and what seems at times almost freakish originality.
因而，東京擁有全世界最多的米其林星級餐館，並非僥倖。但是，我這次不是爲了這些久經沙場的老牌餐館而來。我要品評的，是正在全日本悄然興起的二次料理革命，是來自日本本土的一波嶄新的美食潮流。這場革命由一代30歲上下的廚師興起，他們的靈感植根於二十世紀90年代初著名的經濟大蕭條時期。那時日本經濟從高速發展之中迅速崩潰，步入了外媒所稱的“失去的二十年”。在全日本進入反思之時，這些年輕廚師們趁機擺脫了對集體思維的奴性服從，用鮑勃的話來說，拋開了“前人的桎梏”。他們開始倡導一種以本土食材爲材料，精心準備，獨具匠心，甚至異想天開的料理風格。
Exhibit A: the plate of smoked salted cod roe sprinkled with red chile pepper flakes at a restaurant called N-1155 in the hip, hilly Tokyo neighborhood of Nakameguro. The smoking and salting produced a deliciously bespoke version of fish jerky, whose peppery marine tang married perfectly with a chilled glass of sauvignon blanc.
我記錄裏的第一件精品，是灑着紅辣椒末的醃薰鱈魚白。這是在東京附近，時尚的丘陵小鎮中木黑(Nakameguro)，一家叫做N-1155的餐館裏吃到的。品嚐着經熏製和醃製而成的美味特製魚乾，再叫上一杯冰白蘇維翁，正與彈性的海鮮口感相得益彰。
Exhibits B and C: a flash-cold-smoked sea perch sashimi, and a bagna cauda, both served at the same restaurant. Flash cold smoking, done in the kitchen just before plating, imparts a tangy, cooked woodland savor to the raw flesh of the fish that makes for a delicious cognitive dissonance in the mouth. The bagna cauda was upgraded by having its oil mostly replaced with cream, creating a rich bath into which produce from the restaurant’s own farm in southern Japan — thin-cut yellow carrot, mustard green, lotus root and kohlrabi — was dipped and then removed, leaving its bright, vegetal essences enrobed in unctuous garlic.
在這家餐館裏還可以吃到冷薰微烤鱸魚刺身加意大利蘸醬。在後廚即將裝盤之前，快速的低溫微薰給生魚片增加了一種濃郁的木香，放入嘴中，滿口生香。意大利蘸醬經過改良，由奶油代替菜油。餐館在日本南部農場自產各種蔬菜，包括胡蘿蔔、芥菜、蓮藕和甘藍。這些蔬菜被切成薄片，在湯汁中浸潤，然後撈出棄置不用，只留下一股爽口的蔬菜精華，與厚厚的蒜茸和奶油一起，創造出一碗香濃的醬汁。
The next day, a few blocks away, it was the turn of a place called Harbor Bar. Modeled vaguely on a Venetian wine bar and boasting fish from the Sanriku Coast region of northern Japan, the tiny restaurant has a cheerfully casual D.I.Y. atmosphere that channels Bushwick. But there’s nothing casual about the food in the least.
第二天，我們去到幾個街區之外的另一家料理，叫做港灣酒吧(Harbor Bar)。這家小餐廳格局依稀有些威尼斯酒吧的味道，所用的食材都是日本北部三陸海岸地區的海產。它的環境輕鬆隨意，有一種自助的氣氛，讓人想起紐約的布什維克。可它的菜餚卻很精緻。
The opener was a plate of super-fresh scallop sashimi, enlivened with a ginger sauce whose citrus notes gave the dish the feel of a mollusk ceviche. This was followed up by a serving of raw botan shrimp — as large as langoustines — which arrived paired with a spicy rémoulade of cured carrots. While we ate, Bob and I continued to catch up. Unusually for a Westerner who has been living long-term in Japan, he’s lost none of his youthful enthusiasm and manifests the same manic glee he once did as a jazz-mad, art-crazed undergraduate.
開胃菜是一盤超級新鮮的扇貝刺身，配料的薑汁帶有一種柑橘味，使這盤菜有一種酸橘汁醃海鮮的口感。接着上來的是生牡丹蝦——和海鰲蝦一般大小——搭配香辣蛋黃醬醃胡蘿蔔。我和鮑勃邊吃邊聊我們分別之後的生活。他還是像年輕時那麼熱情洋溢。在大學時，他曾是個爵士樂狂和藝術狂。而現在，他那種興奮與狂熱的勁頭絲毫未減。對於一個在日本長期生活的西方人來說，這實在很不尋常。
“Some people live here and want to be Japanese,” he said. “I didn’t. Not only is it impossible, but I don’t want to be treated the way Japanese treat themselves. I love Japan, but I sell myself as a foreigner who’s willing to break the rules and say what’s wrong.”
“有些人在這裏生活，希望與本地人融爲一體。”他說，“可我不是這樣。不單因爲我根本做不到，而且我也不喜歡日本人對待他們自己的方式。我愛日本，但是作爲一個外國人，我不怕打破規矩，也不怕指出他們不好的地方。”
“And what is wrong?” I asked.
“他們有什麼不好的地方呢？”我問道。
Bob, who works in Japan as an industrial designer, rubbed his hand over his shaved skull and said: “Two words define Japanese culture. One is ‘monozukuri,’ or ‘the Japanese way of making things.’ The other is ‘omotenashi,’ or ‘the Japanese way of hospitality.’ If the country rebuilt itself into such a buff economic specimen after World War II, it did so partly out of its belief in the superiority of both of these things to any other country’s. But then the bubble economy burst, the 21st century happened, and the country lost its way. I call it a nationwide case of the rope-a-dope. Whole industrial sectors have fallen asleep. Remember the Walkman? How’s that working out for you, Sony?”
鮑勃在日本的職業是工業設計師。他用手摸了摸自己剃光的頭，說：“日本文化可以用兩個詞來定義。第一個詞是‘製造’，也就是‘日本特色的製造方式’。第二個詞是‘招待’，也就是‘日本人的待客之道’。這個國家在二戰後把自己建成一個強有力的國家，原因之一就是因爲他們確信，自己在這兩點上比其他任何國家都優越。但是，進入21世紀之後，經濟泡沫的破滅使他們不知所措。我認爲，整個國家現在都在韜光養晦，整個工業界毫無生機。你還記得隨身聽嗎？讓我們來問問索尼：它的命運如何了？”
Before I could answer the rhetorical question, my attention was distracted by the arrival of something called an iwagaki rock oyster.
我正在想如何回答他的這個反詰，一道新菜的到來打斷了我的思緒。這道菜名是巖蠔。
Ah, that oyster. It was the largest bivalve I’ve ever seen, with a shell approximately the size and shape of my foot. “You freeze it while alive and then slow-cook it at low temperatures,” the waiter explained, bowing. “That makes the umami come out.” The monster was dressed in a brightly acid dill-based mignonette and disproved the axiom that larger versions of anything taste worse: It was a briny, exquisite splash of sea in the mouth.
呵，那生蠔。可以說它是我曾見過的最大的貝類了。貝殼的形狀大小和我的腳差不多。“它還活着的時候你就得把它冷凍起來，然後用小火慢燉。”侍應生鞠了一躬，對我們介紹說，“這樣鮮味才能出來。”這個特大生蠔上塗抹着一層酸酸的茴香木樨草醬汁，吃在嘴裏，給你帶來鮮鹹而細膩的海浪滋味，徹底否定了“物大則無味”這一坊間說法。
I was still finishing it when the owner of the restaurant, alerted by my exclamations of joy, came over to talk. His name was Akira Matsuoka and he’s part of a restaurant consortium that oversees several venues in Tokyo. Rail thin, with high cheekbones, black jeans and alt-rock facial hair, he answered my question as to how he invents his dishes by explaining: “My partners and I think of ourselves as a food think tank. We don’t care about Michelin rankings. First we come up with the concept, and then we invent the dishes to fit it, sometimes collectively and sometimes individually. Rather than a star chef, we make the food the star.” He smiled and circled a finger in the air to indicate the small space crammed with diners. “And it seems to be working.”
我細細品嚐着它的滋味。聽到我不停的讚歎之聲，餐館老闆走了出來，與我攀談起來。他名叫阿基拉松岡(Akira Matsuoka)，他的這家小店是一個餐飲集團屬下的一部分，這個集團在東京還有幾個其他店面。他人很瘦，高高的顴骨，身穿黑色牛仔服，留着另類搖滾式的鬚髮。當我問到他是如何創造出這道菜時，他回答說：“我和我的合夥人把自己看作美食智庫。我們不在乎米其林星級。我們會首先想出一個概念，然後再創造一盤菜來表達這個概念。菜點的創作有時合作完成，有時獨立完成。我們並不想做什麼明星廚師。在這裏，食物纔是明星。”他微微笑着，手指在空中劃了一圈，指着擠滿小屋的就餐者。“這個做法看起來還蠻有效的。”
Over the next few days, the culinary wizardry of Tokyo chefs remained unflagging. Yet, of all the entrees and appetizers I tried (the rice paper tubes of crab flash-fried so that the crunchy, starchy surface held a core of molten raw crustacean; the cod ovaries baked in Gorgonzola that scattered delicious marine bursts of garlic across the palate; the tiny fish called an ayu, or “sweet fish,” which is fermented in the dregs of sake for three years to make the bones grow edibly soft) — all of it, no matter how odd, gross or wonderful, would pale next to the one dish that remained dangling, like the holy grail, just out of reach. People spoke of it as the greatest white-fleshed sashimi in the world.
接下來的幾天裏，東京大廚們展示了從未令我失望的料理魅力。我品嚐了各式各樣的開胃菜與正餐，包括殼脆餡嫩的香煎軟殼蟹米紙卷，充滿蒜香海鮮口感的奶酪焗鱈魚子，還有用清酒渣醃製三年而成的酥骨小香魚。這些餐點有的怪異、有的噁心、有的美味。然而，所有這些，在另一道美食麪前都黯然失色。那就像一個遙不可及的聖盃，一直在我們眼前晃動。它就是傳說中世上最了不起的白身魚刺身。
Back on the train, I heard Bob say, “We’re almost here,” and I slowly raised my eyes from my notebook. The fish was the legendary kanburi, or winter yellowtail, which abounds in the waters off Kanazawa, and after a couple of hours on the train, we were finally sliding into Kanazawa Station.
“我們快到了。”鮑勃的話音把我拉回到眼前的火車上，我從筆記本上慢慢擡起目光。經過兩小時的旅程，火車終於緩緩滑進金澤車站。那傳說中的魚，就是盛產於金澤的冷鰤魚，又叫冬鰤。
But before food, a drink. Several, actually. Drinking in Japan is a crucial social and professional lubricant in a country where ritualized courtesies can easily harden into walls, and Bob, a teetotaler in college, had successfully adapted. Kanazawa, like most Japanese cities of a decent size, has a distinct “drinking district,” honeycombed with tiny bars, and not long after checking in to our hotel, we found ourselves in a stand-up bar called Choikichi.
當然，在吃之前，總得喝上一杯。或者多喝幾杯。在日本這個地方，禮儀往往成爲人際交往的障礙，而飲酒則成爲社會與職業交往至關重要的潤滑劑。鮑勃在大學是個滴酒不沾的人，但他終於也成功地轉型了。和其他略有規模的城市一樣，金澤也有自己的“飲酒區”。在這裏，小酒家比肩接踵。我們在酒店入住之後沒多久，就已經身處一家名爲崔基地(Choikichi)的站立式酒吧了。
Stand-up means exactly what it sounds like, and the long counter of this former ice cream parlor was crowded on a late afternoon with regulars watching sumo wrestling on television. As titans clashed thunderously on the screen above us, the locals chatted happily with one another, and I had the sense of having wandered into a tiny Japanese analogue of Cheers, the famously chummy bar “where everybody knows your name.” We ate edamame and delicious rakkyo (pickled onions) and drank a fairly common but tasty sake.
站立式酒吧恰如其名。傍晚時分，這個由冰激凌小店改造的酒吧裏，長長的櫃檯前熙熙攘攘地站滿了本地的熟客，興高采烈地彼此交談。頭頂上，電視中播放着相撲比賽，一個個彪形大漢如雷霆般向對方衝擊。恍惚間，我覺得走進了日本版的乾杯酒吧(Cheers)，那個有名的酒吧，“在那兒每個人都互相認識”，如一家人般親密。在這個站立式酒吧裏，我們就着毛豆和美味的醃藠頭（一種醃製的小洋蔥）喝到了味道不錯的普通清酒。
Bob, a habitué of these places, was welcomed everywhere we went with shouts. The shouts were particularly loud later that night at a bar named, hilariously, Pub Dylan (as in Bob). There I was served a very expensive sake called Dassai, whose cool, perfect balance gave me the impression of drinking a dipperful of outer space. It was also at this place that Bob (my friend) brought down the house by correctly identifying the Japanese rock band playing on the big-screen TV as the Atomic Bomb Masturbation.
鮑勃顯然是這些地方的常客，他每到一處都會受到人們的歡呼。那天晚上晚些時候，我們來到另一家酒吧，它的名字很有趣，叫迪倫酒吧(Pub Dylan)，和鮑勃·迪倫(Bob Dylan)同名（譯者注：美國著名歌手，名字與作者的老友鮑勃相同）。我們走進這家酒吧時，歡呼聲尤爲響亮。在那裏他們端給我一杯非常昂貴的清酒，叫做獺祭(Dassai)。它那清涼、酸甜有致的口感讓人有飄飄欲仙之感。在這裏，鮑勃，不是鮑勃·迪倫，而是我的朋友鮑勃，準確地認出了頭上大屏幕電視裏表演的日本搖滾樂團是Atomic Bomb Masturbation，贏得了全場又一次歡呼。
After a quick, delicious tempura dinner I returned to my dwarf hotel room, only moderately worse for alcoholic wear, and asked myself the obvious question: Is Japan the most food-crazed nation on earth? Evidence for “yes” is pretty thick on the ground. Tokyo has a staggering 80,000 restaurants, as opposed to the 15,000 of New York or the 6,000 of London. But more to the point: Where else on the planet would a country’s biggest boy band have its own cooking show? What other nation would stage a televised competition in which they brought in challengers to try to better a master sushi chef’s technique and scanned the resulting sushi pieces with an MRI to compare the ratio of rice to air? What other place could possibly, under any circumstances, have invented the operatic and off-the-wall “Battle of the Iron Chef”?
簡短而美味的天婦羅晚餐之後，我回到狹小的酒店房間，略有醉意。我忍不住自問：日本是否是地球上最愛吃的國度？肯定的證明比比皆是：東京餐館有令人震驚的8萬家之多，而紐約只有1萬5千家，倫敦更是纔有6千家。更說明問題的是：除了日本，世界上哪個國家裏最著名的男孩樂隊會有自己的烹飪節目？哪個國家電視臺的廚藝比賽，會不僅讓參賽者挑戰壽司師傅的料理技巧，更是用核磁共振來檢測壽司飯卷中空氣的含量，並以此決定比賽結果？又還有哪一個國家能發明出那個誇張而奇特的“鐵人料理”(Battle of the Iron Chef)電視節目？
The very next day, as if in answer to these questions, Japan served me the best seafood meal of my life. It did so at a small, easily missed, relatively modest-looking restaurant called Yamashita.
就在第二天，彷彿是要回答我的問題，日本獻出了我一生中吃到的滋味最美的海鮮。這事發生在一家豪不引人注目，門面簡單的小餐館裏，其店名叫“山下”(Yamashita)。
Yamashita is on no foreigner’s must-see lists, and there wasn’t an English language word in sight. But the restaurant, located by Bob, is a temple of sorts where the eponymous owner and chef Mitsuo Yamashita is referred to by his employees as the Master, and boss and staff work as one to pluck the freshest, purest products from the nearby ocean and put them on your plate with minimal interference.
山下餐館是鮑勃找到的，像個禪院模樣。它在任何一個外國旅遊者的景點清單裏都從未出現過。店裏所有地方也沒有半句英文。店主兼大廚山下光雄(Mitsuo Yamashita)被手下稱作“師傅”。老闆和手下共同努力，從附近的海域中帶來最新鮮純淨的海產，然後做極簡的處理之後送上你的餐盤。
The meal began with a pictorially perfect tray of amuse bouches: thin-cut strips of yellowtail stomach dressed in a vinegar-miso sauce, which tasted smoked though they weren’t, along with a small pile of herrings fermented in the dregs of sake, and a handful of fresh snap peas, each dabbed with tiny blobs of black sesame pesto.
最先送上來的是餐前點心：切得薄薄的鰤魚肚沾香醋味噌醬，雖然沒有經過熏製，吃起來卻有些微烤的味道；還有一小堆酒糟鯡魚和十來個上面點灑着黑芝麻醬的新鮮蜜豆。
A sake, painstakingly engineered by Mr. Yamashita in consultation with local brewers, partnered these refined salty nibbles perfectly. But all this was a mere prelude to that moment when a waitress, smiling, brought in plates heaped high with the prized kanburi sashimi.
與這些鮮鹹的小吃完美配合的是山下先生與當地釀酒師合作精心釀製的清酒。這只不過是個前奏。接下來纔是大家翹首以待的時刻：女侍應生微笑着端上一盤堆得高高的久負盛名的冷鰤魚刺身。
Why has this fish been elevated to the very top spot among sashimi lovers? Because kanburi uniquely fuses two qualities that are almost never found in the same animal. Take maguro, the tuna whose sashimi is most recognizable to Americans. There’s the red meat, or akami, version, with its firm texture and relatively mild flavor, and the pinker version known as otoro that is filled with delicious oils and fats. The problem is that the tasty otoro has a crumbly, falling-apart texture in the mouth likened disdainfully by Bob to “eating sashimi marshmallows.” Because texture, along with temperature and flavor, are part of the “mouth moment” of Japanese cuisine, the challenge is to find a firm fish that is also rich in oil.
爲什麼冷鰤對生魚片愛好者來說位居榜首？因爲它是能夠融合兩種重要品質的唯一魚種。就拿美國人最熟悉的金槍魚來說吧。魚背部顏色偏紅的部分，叫Akami，肉質緊實，味道相對比較平淡。魚腹顏色偏淺的部分稱爲otoro，油脂豐溢，味道香美，但是肉質卻十分疏鬆，按鮑勃輕蔑的話來說，吃起來就像 “吃生魚片棉花糖”。肉質、溫度和味道是日本料理中“口感”不可或缺的部分。因此，找到一種油脂豐溢而肉質緊實的魚片是一個挑戰。
Enter kanburi, which for that brief, miraculous period every winter, is both those things. The fish, in thick slabs, now lay fanned out on the plate before me, glistening with oil — oil that had leached out of it because the Master had intentionally let the fish “rest,” or cure for a day or so. Mind you, fish oil like this has nothing “fishy” about it. The kanburi was silky, pliant, yielding and tasted of a distilled, superclean essence of the sea. It seemed to exemplify everything that was best about Japanese cuisine, and mouthful by mouthful it put me into a kind of trance.
這時就輪到冷鰤出場了。每年冬天，有那麼短暫而奇妙的一小段時間，冷鰤能夠同時擁有這兩種美質。我面前的盤子裏擺放着一塊塊厚厚的魚塊，閃着油光——師傅特意讓魚“歇”了一天左右，讓油脂溢出。別忘了，這樣的魚油毫無腥味。冷鰤肉質柔軟滑順、富有彈性，吃在嘴裏，像是濃縮了清新爽口的大海芳香，突顯日本料理的最高境界。隨着一片片刺身送人口中，我彷彿不知身在何處。
Suddenly the Master poked his head in again and barked some machine-gun Japanese at Bob, who translated it with a single word: squid. It was being offered as our next course, and there was no question of not taking it. One would as soon have refused an audience with the pope.
忽然，師傅探出頭來，對鮑勃叫出了一串如機關槍一般的日語。鮑勃的翻譯只有一個詞：烏賊。原來這是下一道菜，我們當然來者不拒。我寧可錯失與教皇見面的機會，也不會拒絕這樣的美食。
This would turn out to be something called “spear squid.” Freshly caught and still alive in the kitchen, it was killed, masterfully julienned and brought to the table as sashimi, along with a sauce made of fermented bonito guts, a condiment of pickled wild wasabi flowers, a heated stone and some stern admonitions from the Master as to exactly how to cook the squid — barely — and what the precise protocol was for eating it. Dishes like this belong to a category known for its hazawari, or “tooth feel,” and produce a dazzling mix of ocean flavor notes while offering an old-fashioned popcorn-like crunch in the mouth.
端上來的是所謂的“槍烏賊”。剛剛抓到的，在廚房活殺之後，精巧地片成條，然後作爲刺身端上桌來。配菜包括鰹魚內臟醬和醃漬野芥末花，還有一塊烤熱的石頭。師傅神情嚴肅地教導我們如何烹製烏賊——不能久烹——然後又教給我們吃烏賊的準確步驟。這道菜餚主要是要感受它的“嚼口”，一種海洋風味交織着老派爆米花的爽脆。
By the end of such a meal, something has happened to you, something close to the psychic euphoria produced by yoga or meditation. You’ve entered a zone of food satori, mystically zonked by the punch of a culture that has been perfecting its culinary subtleties for thousands of years. What to do?
一餐已矣，你會感受到一種微妙的變化，好似瑜伽或冥想之後感悟的那種心靈之昇華。彷彿你剛剛接受了那歷經千年浸潤的飲食文化對你的神祕一擊，使你頓獲美食之悟。
After an elaborately choreographed goodbye, we took a digestive stroll in the seaside air, passing through the gaudy Kanazawa downtown with its Ginza-style flashing lights, its kuru kuru (conveyor belt) sushi restaurants (Japanese is rich in onomatopoetic words, and “kuru kuru” is the sound of a conveyor belt; say it fast and you’ll understand), its knickknack shops, bars and omnipresent FamilyMart convenience stores.
經過一個精心設計的告別儀式之後，我們在海濱的空氣中緩步前行。一路上是金澤市中心銀座格調的華麗燈火，以及一家家庫魯庫魯回轉壽司餐廳（日語裏有很多擬聲詞。“庫魯庫魯”是迴轉帶轉動的聲音，試一下快速讀這個詞你就會明白了）、小禮品店、酒吧，和無處不在的全家連鎖便利店。
Our destination was the beautiful old wood-fronted part of town called Higasha Chaya-Gai. (Kanazawa shares with Kyoto the distinction of being one of the few large Japanese cities not bombed by the Allies during World War II). There, we entered a sleekly minimalist bar called Teriha and seated ourselves among the drinkers, conscious that it was our last evening out.
我們的目的地是老城東茶屋街(Higashi Chaya-Gai)，那是一片美麗的木質民房。（金澤和京都是二戰期間沒有遭到盟軍轟炸損毀的僅有的幾個日本大城市之一。）在那裏，我們走進了一家簡約風格的酒吧，叫做照葉(Teriha)。我們在酒客間坐下，心知這是我們這趟旅行的最後一晚了。
I had spent a full week living inside a kind of tone poem of fish and alcohol, enriched by unflagging conversation with a dear old friend. But a vague perception had been weighing on me constantly during the trip, and suddenly, in the dark bar, that perception sharpened into words: I’ve never been to so foreign a place before that felt so deeply familiar.
整整一個星期，我彷彿生活在一個魚和酒交織而成的音詩之中，伴隨着親密老友熱情洋溢的交心暢談。自始至終，我的腦海裏有一種若隱若現的感覺，琢磨不透，轉瞬即逝。那天，在那個昏暗的酒吧裏，我忽然抓住了那個感覺：我從未在一個如此陌生的國度裏體會到如此深刻的熟悉感。
Differently from an Asian country like India, where I’ve also spent time, the social iconography of Japan is profoundly recognizable to an American. Despite the culture’s insularity and remoteness from us, the Japanese often dress and style themselves in a way that clearly states their social membership in categories of rocker, matron, intellectual, etc., and these identities can be easily “read” by a tourist from the United States. This fact, a product of the longstanding symbiotic relationship between the countries, produces a visual halo effect, in which one is always observing roles and mores on several levels at once. Exhausting on the one hand, it’s endlessly, compulsively fascinating on the other.
我去過其他亞洲國家，比如印度。但是日本不同。它的社會表象對美國人來說有深度的共識感。儘管日本是個距我們很遠的島國，但那裏人的着裝服飾清楚表達出他們的社會歸屬：搖滾人、主婦、文化人，等等。美國旅遊者可以輕易認出這些人的身份。這是日美兩國相存相依多年的產物，也因此促成了一個光環效應，使人可以同時觀察到他人的社會角色以及其他諸多層面的東西。一方面，這有些令人應接不暇，另一方面，這也的確讓人不由心醉神馳。
Back in the bar, the lights suddenly dimmed further, and the conversations ceased. Rain started to fall, visible out the windows. Shrouded in darkness at the end of the bar, the owner, an ex-geisha named Yaeko Yoshigawa, began playing a flute. It was a bamboo flute called a shinobue, much used in Noh and Kabuki theater music and part of the essential “kit” of the geisha. The slow, wavering tones, played without obvious melody but filled with richness, lack the forward propulsive quality of Western music. Instead, individual notes are held until they’re mere wisps of sound, acoustic vapor.
這時，酒吧裏燈光轉暗，大家停止了交談。窗外開始淅淅瀝瀝地下起雨來。吧檯盡頭，黑暗籠罩之中，酒吧主人吉川八重子(Yaeko Yoshigawa)開始吹起了笛子。她以前是個藝妓。她使用的竹笛叫做筱笛，是藝妓的基本“工具”之一，多用在日本能劇和歌舞伎劇場音樂之中。與西方音樂的大收大放不同，這音樂悠揚而婉轉，聽不出曲調，卻充滿內涵。每一個音符都拉得長長的，直到它越來越輕，終至弱不可聞，猶如情人耳邊輕輕的私語。
For several minutes, quietly, the flute music continued, threading the air in the darkness. It wavered, seemed about to stop and then, surprisingly, went on, moving forward without resolution, a little bit like the beautiful, perplexing country of Japan itself, whose mix of ceremonial gravity and hidden culinary wonders had given me a week of the very best eating of my life. There was a pause that extended until we could hear the rain pattering on the roof and a single last note, after which Ms. Yoshigawa removed the flute from her mouth with a bow. The recital was finished. The tone poem was over. In the semi-darkness, Bob raised his glass in a last toast. It was time to go home.
幾分鐘裏，靜靜的笛聲在黑暗中縈繞。若隱若現，時有時無，在你以爲音樂已盡之時，它卻重再浮現，復又前行。這音樂正像日本這個美麗而莫測的國度，其莊重的禮儀和不爲人知的料理奇蹟交相輝映，讓我度過了有生以來最美味的一個星期。音樂又一次停歇，只聽見雨點在屋頂砸落的聲音，接着，最後一個音符從笛中滑出。吉川夫人放下笛子，深深鞠躬。一曲終了，我那爲期一週的交響音詩也就此結束。半明半暗之中，鮑勃最後一次舉杯。是該回家的時候了。
If You Go
探訪指南
Where to Stay
住在哪裏
This particular trip was dedicated to eating, not lodging. In both Kanazawa and Tokyo there are abundant “business hotels,” found under that term on the Internet, where for usually less than $100 a night, or 11,390 yen at 114 yen to the dollar, one sleeps in a luxuriously appointed room the size of a large refrigerator. These are typically squeaky clean and have all modern conveniences, including, often, a washer-dryer and, incredibly, a pants press.
我這次旅行的目的是吃而不是住。金澤和東京都有大量的“商用酒店”，在網上用這個詞即可查到。價錢一般爲每晚100美元，或者1.139萬日元（按1美元等於114日元計算）。房間和一個大型冰箱差不多大小，陳設奢華。這些酒店都一塵不染，擁有一切現代設施，通常包括洗衣機和烘乾機，而且令人難以置信的是，常常還會有自動熨褲機。
Where to Eat
吃在哪裏
Tokyo
東京
N-1155, 1-1-55 Nakameguro, Meguro, Tokyo; 81-3-3760-1001.
N-1155, 東京目黑區中目黑1-1-55 ; 81-3-3760-1001。
A beautiful wood-paneled restaurant in one of the hipper districts of Tokyo that serves innovative, exquisitely prepared seasonal food. Much of the produce is from the restaurant’s own organic farm in southern Japan. An English-language menu is a plus. Dinner and drinks start at about 5,000 yen.
位於東京比較前衛的街區裏的一家美麗的木質餐館，提供富有創意而製作精美的海鮮食品。使用的蔬菜主要取自餐館在日本南部自營的有機農場。更棒的是他們提供英語的菜單。晚餐和酒水從5千日元起。
Harbor Bar (Minatomachi Baru), 3-7-8 Kamimeguro, Meguro, Tokyo; 81-3-5869-5806.
港灣酒吧(Harbor Bar, Minatomachi Baru), 東京目黑區上目黒3-7-8; 81-3-5869-5806。
Hipster interiors and a crowd right out of Bushwick fill up this small, very tasty seafood shop. The place is modeled loosely on a Venetian fish restaurant and has a decent Italian wine selection, but the superfresh and very creative dishes are straight from the Sanriku Coast, north of Tokyo. Dinner and drinks from about 4,000 yen on up.
這家小巧的海鮮店內飾時尚，味道上佳，滿座的賓客與紐約布什維克沒什麼兩樣。室內裝修仿效維也納海鮮餐館，酒單上有很不錯的意大利酒品，然而它超級新鮮而極具創意的海鮮卻全部來自東京北部的三陸海岸。晚餐與酒水4千日元起。
Kanazawa
金澤
Yamashita Restaurant, 2-23-5 Katamachi, Kanazawa, Ishikawa; 81-76-223-1461.
山下餐館(Yamashita Restaurant), 石川縣金澤片町2-23-5; 81-76-223-1461。
This world-class fish mecca is unostentatiously small and bare. Its stern, somewhat forbidding owner runs a very tight ship, and no English is spoken. But animated pointing at display cases will probably do the trick. Dinner and drinks, about 4,000 yen.
這個世界一流的海鮮勝地其貌不揚，風格簡樸。餐館主人不苟言笑，管理嚴格。這裏沒人會講英語。不過，你只要動作誇張地朝擺在外面的餐點樣品指一指，就一定能讓他們明白你的意圖。晚餐與酒水4千元左右。
Teriha Restaurant and Bar, 1-24-7 Higashiyama, Kanazawa, Ishikawa; 81-76-253-3791.
照葉酒家(Teriha Restaurant and Bar), 石川縣金澤東山1-24-7; 81-76-253-3791。
Located in the historic wood-fronted district of the city, this wine bar with its beautiful, minimalist interior tends to fill up fast with the local A-list crowd. The owner, a former geisha, speaks some English. If you beg her for a shinobue (flute) recital, she may oblige. Drinks begin at 500 yen.
這個坐落在金澤木屋古城的美麗而風格簡約的小酒吧通常總是充滿了當地的一流酒客。藝妓出身的酒吧老闆懂一點英語。如果你請她演奏一曲笛子，她有可能會滿足你的要求。酒水從5百日元起。
Pub Dylan, 3-25 Katamachi, Kanazawa, Ishikawa; 81-76-222-0322.
迪倫酒吧(Pub Dylan), 石川縣金澤片町2-3-23; 81-76-222-0322。
This small, friendly, deeply atmospheric watering hole is found in the city’s Shintenchi bar quarter. A rowdy crowd tends to form by late evening, and chatting is encouraged in whatever language you happen to speak. The Dassai sake (about 9,110 yen a glass) is out of this world. Other drinks begin at about 500 yen. Cash only.
這是一個非常友好而氛圍熱情的小小的灌酒處，處於新天地酒吧區。每天夜深以後，這裏會聚集一羣嘈雜的人羣，無論你講何種語言，都可以在此聊天。他們的獺祭清酒2千到3千日元一杯，是不世出的美酒。其他酒水5百日元起價。只收現金。
Choikichi, 2-8-18 Katamachi, Kanazawa, Ishikawa; 81-76-261-4900.
崔基地(Choikichi), 石川縣金澤片町2-8-18; 81-76-261-4900。
This is old-school working-class Japan. A single standing-only counter, jars of pickled bar food and local workers sighing over sumo wrestling on TV. The owner is often referred to as Mom (in Japanese, of course) by the clientele. No English spoken. Snacks and drinks start at 200 and 300 yen respectively.
這是個日本老派工薪階層的酒吧。只有一個站立式櫃檯，成瓶的醃製的下酒菜，當地工人站着一邊喝酒一邊觀看電視相撲比賽。客人們叫酒吧老闆做媽媽（當然是用日語）。這裏不會講英語。小吃和酒水分別爲2百和3百日元。
