I made my way to the Instant Ramen Museum in Ikeda, which is apparently the birthplace of instant ramen. I thought my family had been there earlier since we had planned to go in the afternoon (though our phone conversation got cut off before we could decide on a time). After getting lost a couple of times, I made it there around 17:00. I figured it would most likely be closed by the time I got there, and it was. I wanted to look up the hours before I went, but this was not possible because I didn’t think of this before I left the hotel in the morning, and free wi-fi is incredibly hard to find here – this surprised me; more on that later. Anyhow, I got a picture of the outside and one of another nearby noodle house.

I found the town or district (or whatever it is) of Ikeda to be quite charming. It is very walkable compared to Takatsuki or downtown Osaka. Maps in the train station highlighted some of the attractions in the area. There were a few museums, a library, several shrines, an observatory up on the hill, a suspension bridge called the “Big Harp”. Signs pointed from the train station to the instant ramen museum. Things were on a smaller scale. I thought Em would have really liked it.

I thought about walking to see a nearby shrine, but I was already hungry and cranky around 17:00, so I looked for some dinner first.

Some background on why I was both hungry and cranky: for lunch, I had some street food style okonomiaki (basically a savory pancake) that I asked for “vegetarian”, “without meat”, and “without fish”. I showed the woman preparing the food the word on my translator app for “vegetarian” to make sure she understood. She seemed to, but then she threw one of the finished okonomiaki on a plate and brushed some sauce on it and handed it to me. I could see that the new ones she was making all had a slice of meat on the top. I waved my hands “no” and said the word for “meat”. This did not get any different result. I relented and picked off the meat layer with chopsticks and begrudgingly ate the meat juice-soiled okonomiaki. I also got some small dumplings, but I figured they most likely were filled with meat which would be difficult to extract. The cook who served me the okonomiaki came by later and saw that I was picking off the meat and putting it on the side of my plate. She thought it was hilarious, and she laughed and said something to me and expected a response. I had no idea what she said. She laughed again and then went back to cooking the okonomiaki. I contemplated throwing one of the dumplings at her. Said dumplings were in a flimsy to-go container already, so I just took them to the hotel. I figured I could pawn them off on one of my brothers. Later, they got crushed in my backpack and smeared the interior and left the scent of greasy street food on both my backpack and a Japan travel book I checked out (sorry, Providence Community Library, although maybe the smell of Japanese street food will be an asset for this book?).

I am surprised that it is so hard to find vegetarian food here. Some places seem to interpret the word “vegetarian” as “having some vegetables but also having some meat as well”. I am not sure if it is a cultural issue or a language issue. I expected to come across a lot of fish in the food, and there is that, but at the dining establishments I’ve encountered so far, there is just as much, if not more, red meat as there is fish. At the cafe in the aquarium, I ordered a “vegetable curry with rice” from the English-translated menu. This turned out to be a beef curry with a couple of broccoli florets and a baby carrot on the side. Some places get the concept of “vegetarian” though. They tend to be the slightly nicer places.

Anyhow I set out to look for a restaurant that would have some actual vegetarian food near the train station. Most places display pictures and/or quite realistic three-dimensional models of the dishes they serve. Also, they usually have the prices next to the depictions of the food. The prices here include tax, and there is no tipping in Japan, so this make it very easy to window shop and not be surprised. I entered a place that looked promising. Someone opened the sliding door for me (sliding doors are a thing here) and waved to say “sit wherever you like”. I had a seat at the bar. It was a Friday night. There was a group of four middle aged men that was laughing and seemed as though they had been there for a while and had been drinking. They were in casual clothes, so they seemed like old friends as opposed to the usual colleagues in suits having drinks after work. A mother and son were just finishing up at the other end of the bar. It was a small place, so the capacity felt about right. The one waitress served me cold barley tea and a rolled-up hot washcloth for cleaning my hands. She and the sushi chef spoke a handful of words of English, but it far surpassed my Japanese. I pointed to a photo of udon noodles and tempura. There was shrimp tempura in the photo, so I said “vegetarian”. The chef said “okay. Vegetable tempura,” and he made a point to let me know that the udon noodles would be cold. Anything without meat that would fill me up at that point would have made me quite happy, so I said “okay”. The food was vegetarian as promised, and it was artfully arranged with a tiny dish of ginger and chopped scallions on top of a cup of soy sauce.

A woman in a kimono stopped in for a minute and said hello to the woman at the other end of the bar, with whom she seemed to be acquainted, and she chatted with the four men for about fifteen minutes. When she left, she made a point to say something to me and made sure I acknowledged it. I had no idea what she said. I waved to her. I thought she might have owned the place. Instrumental jazz played in the background (that seems to be another thing here). The sushi chef was mostly silent and in constant motion between the kitchen and the bar. He looked around to check on all the customers each time he emerged. The waitress was writing something in her corner. The conversation and laughing behind me kept a steady rhythm.

It was nice in this situation to not understand any words that are said. It was just sounds, images, tastes, and textures. The bumps on the cold porcelain seemed to complement the tea, and both were refreshing after my water bottle had run dry. The crunch of the tempura offset the chewiness of the udon noodles. The bursts of laughter syncopated the music. I wanted to hang out here for a while, so I ordered dessert, which turned out to be arguably the best decision I have made on this vacation so far. Vanilla ice cream with green tea sauce drizzled on it and sweet black beans plus two mochi balls on the side on a bed of corn flakes. The waitress provided a long, slender spoon kind of like a stirring spoon but angled sharply at the end. I had to savor the dessert one bit of ice cream with a black bean or two at a time.

When I got back to the hotel, Matt presented me with some custom ramen that he made for me at the Instant Ramen Museum.

Bonus!: With utmost irony, I actually got lost in Google Maps street view when researching for this blog post. I dropped into the shopping center that is attached to the Ikeda train station, and there seemed to be no way out aside from backing out from street view. Seriously, try to escape from here. It seems impossible!