Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Today is Tuesday the 5th of February, and therefore it has been a while since my last written effort. Last time I had written about how each individual had come to decide to skip to Canada in their own peculiar ways, and in a brief re-reading I realize I have neglected to highlight a crucial point.
Three months is a long time. I don’t care who you are or where you come from, three months may pass in a few instants in hindsight, but to think of it stretching out before you, the period of time seems almost interminable. That’s not to mention the further four or so months Josh intends to stay for. I make this point as a certain memory comes to mind, and I can see a dozen different characters milling outside the customs portal of the departures terminal of Tullamarine Airport.
In typical Phillips fashion, I had no-one in particular to see me off (Mum having dropped me outside the terminal before driving away) and still there was a veritable crowd of folk there to see the others off.
I remember that the folks had wanted a group photo of all of the departing, and after we stood in an awkward line for a few minutes, it was finally and yet suddenly time to say goodbye, a goodbye that was to last all of those three months for most of us.
Goodbyes are interesting things. They can be very casual, but when they actually mean something they can become a highly intimate affair. So there I stood and watched the large group pinch itself off into smaller knots of people, all intent on savouring a few last moments with each other. Josh and Jin are notable cases. Josh for the obvious reason that his stay in Canada was intended to be a longer one than the rest of us, and whilst his parents had already reconciled this, his relationship with Anna inevitably led to a tearful goodbye. A complicated interaction for obvious reasons.
In Jin’s case some of you will be aware that his brother, Sam, is in the process of moving away to begin his adult life in Canberra, complete with apartment and new job. Jin and Sam were well aware that Sam would be gone by the time Jin returned, and so I’m sure the realization that things between them would be different in some way or other from then on, was only really setting in. Apparently Sam returned home to find a written message from Jin left on his pillow.
I’ve written an account of these goodbyes as further insight into each person’s ‘exit psychology,’ the problems they would have with leaving, obvious or otherwise and to highlight the similarities and differences between each case. I don’t think it was necessarily any easier or harder for any one person to step through the queue at customs, as we all were saying goodbye to friends and family. Kyle’s recent video on youtube is testament to the feelings shared by all, and I’m sure that there are many folk back home who have spent a very different summer than they would have otherwise.
I recall walking through customs and eventually onboard our flight, thinking and wondering about how things might change whilst we’re away, and I even now more than ever look forward to hearing all the stories from the folks back home about what’s been going down in our absence.

Oh, and I can’t truthfully claim that I had absolutely no-one to see me off at Tullamarine Airport. I just didn’t see them doing it.

Ending a night with slimy noodles

February 5

I think Sloan “Allergic Girl” Miller gets up earlier in the morning than I do. She certainly wrote her blog entry about Padre Figlio earlier than I wrote this one. It was nice to meet her in person; we had merely e-corresponded before. She’s pretty, and looks a lot healthier than I’d imagined. We spoke about allergies, but also about other things, like Firefly, which I think was the best TV series of all time, although I just got turned onto it a few weeks ago. She has a friend who worked with its creator, Joss Whedon, who is my hero.
Padre Figlio is a brand new Italian restaurant by the people who owned Da Antonio. For their opening party they had a buffet spread that I picked at, but mostly I drank Chianti and Cabernet Sauvignon and chatted with Arlyn Blake, Francine Cohen, Joe DiStefano — a Queens expert who works for Gothamist and others — and a few other regulars of the New York restaurant opening world, and Allergic Girl. It was a good time.
I didn’t eat much, though, so I walked around the corner to Soba Totto. The full menu is in place now, and I snacked on cucumbers with red miso and a skewer of grilled shishito peppers before diving into a hot bowl of yamakake soba.
Yamakake soba has a root in it that the Japanese call nagaimo or yamaimo, and that often is translated into English as mountain yam or Japanese yam. It's a tuber, but more like a watery potato than a yam, with one big difference: It has a slimy, slippery texture that the Japanese think is just a wonderful quality in food and that Americans think is, uh, slimy and slippery. And viscous. Like saliva, but a little thicker. Or mucous.
But really, if you know that's what you’re getting, you can steel yourself and be ready for it. Or at least I can.
So they brought what I think was a raw quail egg to the table, along with a cup of puréed nagaimo and a bowl of hot soba. I was to add the egg to the purée and pour it into the bowl. Which I did.
The soba had little bits of yuzu zest in it, which I didn't expect. The broth with the added nagaimo was a little slimy, which I did expect, and I figured I’d mention it again so you know what to expect when ordering yamakake soba. No one wants that kind of a surprise in noodles.