christmas is coming

How do you know winter is almost upon you in Japan? Wham!'s Last Christmas playing in every store, of course. And a big bowl of mandarin oranges on the coffee table.

Except for maybe a two-month queasy and uncertain period when I first arrived in Japan--and mostly the feelings were borne of the realization that my husband would be working 17-hour days for the rest of his apparently short life (you don't work that hard, drink and smoke that much, and sleep that little, and then live to a ripe old age, I fear)--I didn't suffer too much from culture shock. I'm fine with the food, the people, the way of life. Sure, I wish I had a washing machine with a hot-wash option. Yeah, it is freakin' cold inside Japanese homes in the winter (oh, I'm sorry, have I already gone on and on about that?). And yes, secretly I wish my father-in-law would stop serving us summer ayu (fish) because the internal organs are just plain bitter, no matter which way you look at it, and after painstakingly separating the flesh from all those bones with your chopsticks, it just ain't a very filling meal--ayu are itty-bitty things.

But one thing I really enjoy is the enthusiasm for seasonal food (exempting summer ayu) in the Japanese culture. I may dread the encroaching cold, but I get excited at the beginning of fall because I know my in-laws will soon invite us over for their annual matsutake dinner. At the nearby park, lately, you can always find people beneath the huge, brilliant-gold ginkgo trees, gathering up large bags of the smelly fallen fruit, which I've been told have to go through a thoroughly tedious process before one can enjoy the ginkgo nut within. When the nuts are ready to be eaten, they'll be roasted and served unadorned or maybe added to chawan-mushi--a delicate egg custard steamed in a cup with bits of chicken and other good things. The other day, I saw the first packs of overpriced strawberries at a fruit store. Just a bit longer and R can finally have a taste of something she's been asking for for over half a year.

I grew up in Canada, and my family, at any rate, ate whatever we wanted when we wanted it. In Japan, R can point at pictures of strawberries until the cows come home and she's not going to get any until maybe December. Each season, you get a limited choice of fresh fruit and vegetables in your supermarket, and you do get sick of eating the same thing after a while, but everything usually tastes really good and the anticipation makes that first taste particularly exquisite. It's also nice to always have something to look forward to. Right now, I'm loving the huge bags of mandarin oranges available that are not only cheap but thin-skinned, juicy, and sweetly fragrant. For as long as the stores will have them, I'll keep my big green bowl in the living room mounded with mandarins and R can eat her fill. She still loves citrus fruit and can be distracted, while I prepare dinner, with a wedge of lemon, yuzu, or sudachi.