Rather Miscellaneous: Penne, Jello Shots, Farofa and Joulupukki

Santas climbing the wall at newspaper delivery place next to my apartment building

By the title of this post you can tell that it was an ...er...interesting (and culturally mishmashed) Christmas.

Eve of Christmas-eve was spent baptizing the new Scrabble (pressie to myself!) while helping my newly-found neighbours (acquaintances from old dorm who I recently discovered living 5minutes away and have since become friends) make jello shots for their Christmas eve party.

Christmas-eve was a lovely lunch at an Italian place nearby with two friends. This place has a super lunch set deal for a three course meal+coffee, and serve authentic Italian food. To be able to afford authentic Italian food on a broke-student budget in this country is a rarity. The entree was penne in an amazing sauce and the dessert was a cheesecake drizzled with blueberry sauce. Then some evening Capoeira. And a rendezvous at the neighbourhood bar to shoot back the jello shots that were made the night before.

Christmas day started on a bit of a low with me missing home, the Christmastime warmth, friends, family and food and sulking over the toast I had to have for brunch. Some afternoon Capoeira and a call from parents helped raise the spirits.

Then came the Brazillian buffet Christmas dinner with Capoeira mates in Shibuya. To try to put it into words would not do it justice. I ate until I could not lift my fork anymore. There were men going around in cowboy hats with humongous skewers of meat, meat of all kinds cooked in all different ways. Glistening. Beckoning. Talk about the ultimate fantasy.

There were all sorts of other amazing Brazillian dishes, Farofa (dried cassava powder) etc. The entire lot of us then spent the next hour at an Irish pub clutching our stomachs in agony over having eaten too much. After 2 Christmases away from home it finally felt like Christmas (well in my stomach anyway)!!...third time really is a charm I tell you!!

Boxing Day

Getting ready for some afternoon Capoeira (more out of guilt from the overindulgence the day before) and I hear the postman at my neighbours door. Did I ever mention how Japanese apartments have paper-thin walls? Apparently the postman had the wrong address, I hear feet shuffling and my very own doorbell ring. Standing outside is the postman with a giant Christmassy shopping bag. The postal service in this country is amazingly reliable, people post things in department store shopping bags with the flimsiest of ties. Nothing gets lost.

The parcel was taken with some hesitation, I wasn't expecting anything, these days all I get is bills.

But the address had my name on it so I signed. Open the bag and inside is a big fluffy doggie, (somewhat freakishly) resembling my family dog that passed away about a month ago.