From ancient Chinese influences to Mongol invasions, from Samurai fiefdoms to Buddhist influences, Fukuoka is quite a vibrant prefecture.
We had only a few days, because that’s how I booked it, but that was enough to hit the high points without feeling like we really missed something. To be sure, there’s another week or two for the details, plus getting further afield, but perhaps that will be the focus of another trip.
Although I know that we’ll think the same about each of the other places where we’ll stop.
There really just isn’t enough time.
First off, coffee.
As Shofoku-ji became a the locus of trade with Asia, the first recorded tea tree in Japan was planted on the grounds in 1191. A descendant of that original tree thrives on the grounds today, now just a very small part of a very vibrant tea culture.
Also on the grounds, in the main temple, reside three massive Buddha.
Various other temple and shrine grounds made for some fun scenes.
Emperor Kameyama was the 90th Emperor. Although he ruled only 14 years, it was a significant period. Twice the Mongols invaded. On the first attempt, Kublai Kahn’s delegation demanded that Japan submit. The response was “pound sand” (or words to that effect) and the Mongols were driven to sea.
In the following years, Kameyama directed that coastal fortifications be built, which remain today. Those helped repel the second Mongol invasion, along with poor weather that sank several ships. A museum here is filled with Mongol artifacts that were retrieved from the ocean floor.
Nichiren wrote the Lotus Sutra, theorizing how the trials and tribulations of the Japanese people was caused by their straying from the precepts of Buddhism. He implored the government to take a greater role in encouraging citizens to embrace Buddhism, and Nichiren Zen became very popular amongst the Samurai class.
Further afield, about a 25-minute train ride out of central Fukuoka lies (literally) the Reclining Buddha at Nanzoin.
The Reclining Buddha is about 41 meters (135 feet) long, about 10 meters (33 feet) high, and weighs about 300 tons. It’s a new addition to the Great Buddhas, erected in 1995, a gift from monks in Burma (present day Myanmar) and Nepal. Over the years, the community of Nanzoin had provided relief and support to the citizens of those countries.
Elsewhere on the grounds, back towards the entrance and the belly-rubbed Buddhas, we found some fantastic quality rock work for the nerds out there who appreciate it like I do —
Out on the street, on the way back to the train station —
All of the walking and learning gets exhausting. So we continue our lifelong goal to eat and drink our way across whatever country we are in.
Across town, we sampled a local culinary tradition, the Tonkatsu Ramen done in the local Hakata style. The broth is made by simmering pork bones for a day, which leads to a thick, almost milky, creamy consistency thanks to all the collagen.
The first sip of broth was mind-blowing.
Absolutely mimd-blowing.
Neither of us has reacted to a first taste of anything in a restaurant like we did that meal. And we have had some pretty incredible meals over the years around the world.
We actually drank down a fair bit of broth before touching the noodles or fillers.
As I got towards the end of my noodles, but had plenty of broth, I yelled out “Kaedama, kudasai” , which prompted a delivery of more noodles (for a small charge. ¥150/$0.95). This was my second mind expanding moment. All of the noodles that we’ve had were futsū (regular firmness). Not too firm, not too soft. The middle.
Perfect.
Or so I thought.
This new batch was delivered barikata (extra firm), which meant that they weren’t boiled as long and were quite toothy. That texture change made it a whole new experience. I’ve had other bowls since then with the extra firm noodles and can confirm that it’s my go-to from now on.
Right around the corner from our hotel was a small restaurant that was highly rated. Reservations recommended, but only via phone and only in Japanese. As we walked past on the way back from the izakaya, I popped in.
I already had the translation app open. I had typed that I wanted a reservation for two the following evening at 6:30pm. That’s all the chef needed, grabbed a notebook and wrote us down.
The next night, right before 6:30, we slid the door open and our spots were already set at the bar directly in front of the chef.
No one on staff spoke any English save a few phrases, but that doesn’t bother us, even without the app. We made it easy and both ordered omekase, which means “I leave it up to you.”
That gives the chef free rein to design your meal based on availability and quality. The cynic in me (and you) would think “here’s his chance to offload the stuff that’s old,” but that’s not the Japanese. It’s a challenge to the chef to find the items that are at peak freshness and quality. His reputation hinges on his choices. And with small businesses, reputation is everything.
Over the next two hours, eight courses were placed in front of us, starting with a standard appetizer, sashimi, sesame mackerel (marinated), grilled fish, tempura (batter fried fish), etc., etc. Absolutely delicious, each and every course.
After we ordered the omekase, I broke out the translator app and typed in “what beverage do you recommend with the omekase? Beer, wine, or sake?” and he immediately replied sake. I had a very dry one and Goddess went sweeter. Both were delicious and paired perfectly.
We had read about the omekase experience in Tokyo, where one would expect to pay ¥15,000 ($96) each. We didn’t even pay that much total, so this was an incredible bargain for the experience.
And the chef’s reputation is solid. It quickly became a full house, with some turned away, while we sat there.
The next night we went the opposite route and sought out a yatai (food stall). Perched along the banks of the Nakasu River, each yatai has about 10-12 seats, food cooked to order, and is boisterous.
In the morning, right across the street from our hotel was the neighborhood market, where the omekase chef gets his fish daily. It’s a covered street market, just as I remember from being a kid here in Japan. It just wasn’t as bustling as I always recall, probably because we got there right at opening.
And being under cover was nice. It was raining cats and dogs, thanks to the remains of former Super Typhoon Changmi (30W).
Not that it bothered the folks on the corner who continue to make tatami mats by hand. It’s always great to see these craftsmen work the traditional way.
Speaking of former Super Typhoon Changmi (30W) —
Have you had any similar experiences with food? If so, what’s a favorite?
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