No shit, I ate whale. I should probably elaborate more on that. Normally, when traveling, my wife takes thousands of photos and I take hours of video. The videos and photos usually speak for themselves, especially since I’m not known for talking. Also, there is still the issue of summarizing an adventure like two weeks in Japan verbally in 60 seconds or less. It’s almost insulting. Long story short (too late), my posts regarding food porn or travel porn have been sporadic at best.

I should skip past the bouncy mood my wife and I were in when we set foot in Narita to the point of screaming “YATTA” in front of every ice cream and Pocari Sweat vending machine. I should also skip the bouncing in the hotel. What matters is our trip to “downtown” Narita for our first real meal that wasn’t pyramid shaped. We stumbled on the Kawai Building near the bus stop where we entered pretty much a Japanese all-night pub. For now, picture Benihana meets Bennigan’s meets the Purple Shamrock. Our Japanese was just as broken as the owner’s English. There was at least English in the menu. Being somewhat of a bar menu, there was variety from sushi to deep fried confectionery treats. As a result, my travel log contains the following sentence: “Welcome to Japan, where you can have your whale raw, fried, or frozen.”

I should make a few notes before I get to the actual consumption. Of course, the menu did not specify what species of whale that patrons have the privilege of eating. It’s not like one wants to keep track of the subtle differences between sperm whale and orca. My wife, being the vegetarian that she is, had that “all yours” look on her face; she was more than content with a decent helping of tofu skins and warm tamago (sweet sushi omlette). Yes, typical visions of Moby Dick, Monstro, Fudgie, George and Gracie flooded my brain when I ordered. For Star Trek movie fans, we are living in the century in which whales of all kinds are scheduled to become extinct. If then-Admiral James Kirk and Spock read this 280 years from now, I apologize for the probe. Take comfort in the fact that (1) the whale was already dead when I ordered, and (2) you get to say, “double dumbass on you.”

The whale I ordered was in the form of deep fried nuggets. In Japan, deep fried meats tasted lighter than what I would normally have from Chinese take-out orders. (Pu Pu Hot Pot comes to mind.) The dish had the appearance of sesame beef. The taste was a fusion of beef and sushi-grade tuna. Tender, yet slight fishy with that acidic flavor that you get from standard sashimi. It makes sense considering the nature of the aquatic mammal. It wasn’t gamey compared to meats like kangaroo or guinea pig that I also ate courtesy of bester and tiurin (long story).

The fact remains that it was a one-shot deal. We were caught in the moment of being in an exotic location with exotic options to eat. I had an open mind and an empty stomach to try new foods. Would I do it again? Hard to say considering that it will be a while before I venture into the Far East again.

I haven’t the foggiest idea if this is going to work, but I was at the grocery tonight, and I found a hand held vacuum sealer, the Reynolds Handi-Vac. They’re just introducing them, so if you’re in New England, you can go to a Shaw’s, where they have them on sale for $8.99, and while there, grab a mail-in-coupon for $5 on your purchase. Vacuum sealer for $3.99! Judging from use attempts and online reviews, the sealer works quite well; of about 50 reviews, I’ve seen two reports of bags losing their seal (people also note that that was one out of several bags). This seems like a pretty good thing. In addition to the vacuum sealing, which I’ve done in the past and been very happy with, the big trend on all the cooking shows this season was the sous vide cooking thang.

Now, before people start taking me to task, I understand that properly done, it should be done in an immersion circulator that keeps the temperature within half a degree of the desired temperature. Since I’m not going to buy an immersion circulator, this is sort of irrelevant. Articles on trying this at home seem to indicate that, if you’re not able to purchase one (a common fate for the home cook, since they’re pricey), a very low heat water bath will work as well, provided you have an electric thermometer that can alert you when you drift more than a degree or two over the goal temp, and the *second* you drift under it (yay, anaerobic bacteria). This, I have.

So sometime this week, I’m going to see about getting some *very* fresh chicken (to avoid any germlets that might have been picked up in a couple days in the grocers’ meat case that would be killed with a high heat cooking method), and we’ll see what happens. If I die of food poisoning, well, it’ll probably be a good thing that I don’t get to next week’s Next Food Network Star audition, having proved myself a danger to myself and others.

You would *not* believe how interesting some of these people are. Morou comes from a family of 33 children, and lost his last job in the Jack Abramoff scandal! Kaysen lost the Bocuse d’Or because a dishwasher ate part of his entree! This was seriously fun.

• Chris Cosentino
• Michael Symon
• John Besh
• Jill Davie
• Gavin Kaysen
• Morou Ouattara
• Aarón Sanchez

This list does not include Traci Des Jardins, because she already had a Wikipedia entry. All the others, though, were created by me this very week.

Despite having lived in Massachusetts since 1994, for some reason I have never managed to make it to any of the numerous pick-your-own orchards and farms in the area. Today Santiago and I remedied this alarming oversight when we accompanied our friends Aries and Shazza to Russell Orchards in Ipswich. It was a perfect, crisp autumn day, the kind made for a drive along winding roads through red, orange, and gold trees to an old New England orchard and farm. I can’t believe we hadn’t managed to do this before, but today was a good day to start.

You can walk around the grounds to see the farm animals and go on hay rides, but the best part is walking into the farm store and being enveloped in the aroma of fresh, warm cider donuts. Wow. If that isn’t one of the homiest smells on the planet, I don’t know what is. The donuts get snatched up by the dozens by eager patrons before they even have a chance to cool. So. Very. Good.

We bought a cup of freshly pressed, unpasteurized cider. Delicious. Even better: Dipping the warm cider donut into the fresh, cold cider. Apple explosion on the tongue!

Russell’s also makes their own fruit wine, of which we bought two bottles (strawberry and raspberry-peach). The rest of our take included locally-produced garlic cheddar, a half-dozen Northern Spy apples, Black Jewel popcorn, ginger preserves, pumpkin butter, some herbed vinegar, a butternut squash, a small pumpkin, and a rather comically suggestive-looking gourd, and we could have walked away with much more if we hadn’t restrained ourselves.

I love being able to visit places like Russell’s so that I can support organic and local food providers. They use integrated pest management and have begun the process of organic certification. They offer many low-spray and no-spray items of produce, and they sell foods from other local sources, too.

Next time we make it out that way I would like to try some of their hard cider, other flavors of the fruit wines, and more varieties of produce. Also, more donuts. Mmmmm, donuts.

Gavin Kaysen and Jill Davie, along with a totally uncalled for (but desperately needed) rewrite of the page about The Two Fat Ladies. Who I always disliked a lot. But the page was a mess, and I know food and Wikipedia, so in I dove!