GINZA SIX EDITORS
时尚、珠宝&手表、生活方式、美容、食品…
精通各种类型的个性丰富的编辑们,在GINZA SIX上闲逛
记述走路发现的乐趣。
围绕GINZA SIX的冒险 A GINZA SIX Adventure
江部拓弥
GINZA SIX EDITORS Vol.95
在我生活的城镇里,有一个自称银座的古老商业街。据说以前街道上人山人海,非常有活力,但据我所知,这是一条非常悠闲的商业街。入口处摆着年季的现在已经没用了的指示牌,手绘地图上写着“银六商会”的画。有一天,我看到银六字,突然想起了GINZA SIX的事。因为工作去户越银座的“银六商店街”的时候也是这样。银六被GINZA SIX替换,感觉很不可思议。更进一步说,我出生成长的小镇上有一家叫“银八寿司”的寿司店,回乡后经过那家店前,就会想到GINZA EIGHT吗?总觉得每天生活中的GINZA SIX是一个mymin的按配,有点吃惊。
话虽如此,一个月去一次重要的GINZA SIX一次吗。不,没有那么多啊。走在中央路上,一年有几次像被吸入一样进去。这种时候因为是GINZA SIX,所以毫不犹豫地以6F为目标。特别是6这个数字并没有什么意义,要求理由的话,因为6F有餐厅。总之是空腹啊。一边抑制想顺路去同一层的“银座茑屋书店”的冲动,一边去印度料理店的“Tamarind”。
“最好不要反抗咖喱的诱惑”
30年前,学校食堂的阿姨给我讲了这句话。现在也忠实地守护着,来吧。
在不断细化的日本印度料理店中,北印度和南印度都是全方位型,我有点开心。厨师也是从北印度和南印度来的。哦,如果是那样的话,我想问问呢,就这样走过来,厨师满面笑容的厨师匆匆忙忙地说:“日本戈,muzukashine”。
是吗?这里是印度啊。店内的色彩鲜艳,像在日本很少见的手帕一样折叠的印度薄煎面包“Lumalyloti”理所当然地排列着的菜单,还有各种各样语言飞来飞去的客人的说话声音,都不是日本人日本人为日本人准备的印度料理店,而是真诚的印度料理店,让我很理解。也许是银座最接近印度的地方。
这天,从北印度订购了经典的“鸡肉汉堡马萨拉”和使用菠菜的“鸡肉”,从南印度订购了凯拉拉州的白色咖喱“鸡肉蛋糕”和椰子香的“马拉巴风味鱼咖喱”(各1,580日元※以下,全部不含税价格)。
太贪婪了。虽然这么想,但是香料的香味刺激了食欲,筷子停不下来(使用的是勺子)。对于不炫耀奇奇的标准味道,对了对了,我很想吃这种咖喱。
说实话,鸡蛋的乐趣不仅仅是料理。如果有空的话,坐在里面的座位上不要犹豫,按一下背部的按钮就可以了。把视线转移到厨房的方向上,星星闪闪发光。如果好吃的话,一定要给三颗星。厨师们也非常高兴。好啊,这种玩心。
“你知道吃完咖喱后想喝咖啡的理由吗?”
高中生的时候,每天去的咖啡店的姐姐问我。说起来,咖喱之后没有想喝咖啡,所以不可能知道理由。大人就是这么回事吧,一直吃着咖喱,几星霜。咖喱之后有时会想喝咖啡,但其理由却完全不明白。即使想问姐姐理由,咖啡店已经没有了。
GINZA SIX从6F升至13F。为了喝咖啡,去了“GRAND CRU CAFÉGINZA”。
虽然是咖喱后的咖啡,但并不是咖啡店的情趣。被称为咖啡猎人的Jose. 川岛良彰先生制作的那家店,因能体验到翻滚的咖啡体验而广为人知,洋溢着珍贵和妖艳。为了让人联想到“双峰”的库珀搜查官的梦中的设置,一边感到相应的紧张和稍微有些迟缓,一边踏入了脚步。
在那之后,人们对咖啡的常识还在向远方展开。如图鉴所示的菜单中,介绍了用恳切的文章从世界各地精选出来的咖啡豆。那么,要哪个呢?我和盖夏和蓝山迷路,选择了后者。高中时代,那家咖啡馆里的蓝山一杯2000日元。一次也没说过。
真正的蓝山是什么?模糊的我的蓝山像,是咖啡传教士Evannest的长谷川宗佑先生细心的解说,加深了理解。好吃的信息也很重要。
装在香槟瓶里的“蓝山朱尼帕峰农场”(15000日元~)恭恭敬地登场后,当场被挽回后,滴落。初期由老则武杯提供。享受味道、香味和余韵。至福。
顺便说一下,订购的我的瓶子会保持在畅销书里,如果是两周以内的话,可以反复品尝到豆子没有了。虽然没有在银座的俱乐部里保持过瓶子,但是没想到GINZA SIX上会有一天保持咖啡瓶的日子。
回家的路上,顺路去了“Snow Peak Mobile(雪峰移动)”。
印度,牙买加最后返回的地方是我的故乡。“雪峰”是我出生成长的新泻县三条市在世界上引以为豪的户外品牌。在银座的正中央感受到故乡,我感到很高兴。
据说这里是世界上第一家提倡都市型生活新的多功能商店。原来如此。一边梦想着总有一天会到来,一边在店内转来转去,一边披上篝火时很方便的“Indigo TAKIBI Vest”(34000日元)。雪峰的存在与故乡同步,令人感动。小时候,想起在家后院和爷爷一起点燃了篝火,胸口有点热。
入口附近发现了清凉的瓶子。竟然是日本酒。询问的概念是“在户外享受日本酒”。兴致勃勃。拿到瓶子的话有“爽酿造久保田雪峰”(3000日元)。听说这是与朝日酒造共同开发的,更是向前迈进的。妄想在篝火前享受日本酒的样子。受不了。祝你晚年。
下到1楼,从GINZA SIX开往中央路。回家的路上,银座的正中央,附近的商店街的景色在脑海中浮现。遥远的异国,出生的故乡,还有现在我生活的城镇,被连接起来一样幸福的心情包围着,向车站进发。
Text: Takuya Ebe Photos: Kanako Noguchi Edit: Yuka Okada(81)
The district where I live has an old shopping street named Ginza. In the past, this was apparently a vibrant place teeming with shoppers, but I’ve only ever known it as a quaint and quiet little street. There’s a guide map posted at the entrance, but with so many years gone by, it’s not all that helpful. On the handwritten map, you can find a block with the name Ginroku Shokai. I saw the characters “Gin” and “Roku,” which means six, and immediately thought of GINZA SIX. On assignment at a shopping street named Ginroku Shotengai in Togoshi Ginza, I thought the same thing. My brain somehow replaced Ginroku with GINZA SIX; it was weird. What’s more, in the town where I was born and raised, there’s a sushi shop named Ginpachi Sushi, and whenever I go home and pass by the shop, I think “GINZA EIGHT;” it seems to have lodged in my mind. In the midst of my daily life, I’m a bit surprised to find GINZA SIX so often on my mind.
Having said this, I think I actually only venture into GINZA SIX maybe once a month or so. Maybe less. I along walk Chuo-dori Avenue and find myself drawn in through the door a few times a year. When that happens, it automatically occurs to me: I have to go to the sixth floor. No, the number 6 has no special meaning for me. It’s just that the sixth floor is where the restaurants are. That’s the reason. And, basically, I’m hungry. Suppressing the desire to stop by Ginza Tsutaya Books—also on the sixth floor—I head to Tamarind, an Indian restaurant.
“It’s best not to resist the lure of curry.” These words of wisdom were spoken to me by the lunch lady thirty years ago when I was in college. I attend to them even today. Now, I’m at Tamarind.
With Japanese Indian restaurants becoming more specialized of late, it’s nice to see Tamarind is neither North nor South India. It’s omnidirectional. The chefs, too, I’m told, are from northern and southern India. I ask to hear a little more about this. The chef, smiling from ear to ear, says, with some difficulty, “Japanese is difficult.”
“I see,” I say. So this really is India. The vibrant colors inside; a menu that naturally features Rumali Roti, a thin Indian flatbread that folds like a handkerchief and which is rare to find in Japan; the voices of customers speaking in various tongues—this is more a true Indian restaurant than an Indian restaurant run by Japanese for Japanese. Makes total sense. In all of Ginza, perhaps this place is closest to India.
Today, I order, from North India, the standard Chicken Butter Masala and Saag Chicken, made with spinach. From South India, I order Stewed Chicken, a white curry from Kerala, and Malabar Fish Curry, with an aroma of coconuts (1,580 yen each; all prices listed before tax).
Am I gluttonous? Perhaps. But the aroma of spices stimulates my appetite, and I’m powerless to halt the motions of my spoon! The flavor of the quite standard standard… yes, yes, this is the curry I’ve wanted. I find myself beaming.
The joy of Tamarind transcends food. Sit at the table in the back when it’s vacant and go ahead and press the buttons behind you. Now look toward the kitchen—see the stars light up! If you love what you’re eating, go ahead and give them three stars. It’s a charming, whimsical arrangement bound to delight all, the chefs included.
“Do you know why eating curry makes you want to drink a cup of coffee?”
This question was put to me by a waitress at a coffee shop I went to almost every day in high school. I never found myself wanting to drink coffee after eating curry, so, of course I didn’t know why. It must be an adult thing, I thought. I continue to eat curry after so many years. I do sometimes want a cup of coffee after curry, but I don’t know why. I want to ask the waitress, but the coffee shop is no longer there.
I go from the sixth floor of GINZA SIX up to the thirteenth floor to Grand Cru Café Ginza. I want some coffee.
I’m having coffee after curry, but this isn’t an ordinary coffee shop. It’s a café produced by José Yoshiaki Kawashima, coffee hunter extraordinaire, known as a place for dazzling coffee experiences. It gives off an exalted and mysterious air. It feels a bit like Twin Peaks, as if it may have appeared in one of Agent Cooper’s dreams. With a corresponding sense of tension, and even a little trepidation, I step inside.
And I enter an atmosphere where the conventional conceptions of coffee appear to have vanished. The menu is a field guide. The writing is reflective. It presents the café’s coffees, selected from the world over. So, which to choose? I vacillate between Geisha and Blue Mountain and end up going with the latter. At that coffee shop in high school, Blue Mountain was 2,000 yen a cup—I never had it, not even once.
What makes authentic Blue Mountain coffee? I had only the vaguest notions, but thanks to the detailed explanation by coffee evangelist Shusuke Hasegawa, my knowledge deepens. Information is a key component behind what you find delicious.
Blue Mountain Juniper Peak in a champagne bottle (from 15,000 yen) appears. It’s ground on the spot, dripped, and served in an early-period Old Noritake cup. The flavor, the aroma, the aftertaste—pure bliss.
Incidentally, they’ll keep the bottle you order in their cellar so you can receive free coffee for up to 2 weeks, as long as the beans have not run out. I’ve never had a bottle kept for me at a Ginza club. I never thought the day would come when I would keep a bottle of coffee at GINZA SIX.
On my way back, I pop into Snow Peak Mobile on the fifth floor. I’ve been to India, to Jamaica, and now, finally, I return to my hometown. Snow Peak is a world-famous outdoor gear brand from Sanjo, Niigata, where I was born and raised. It’s a joy to get that hometown feeling in the middle of Ginza.
This is the first concept shop in the world to advance a new, urban style of multihabitation. Dreaming my days of multihabitation will arrive someday, I sojourn around the shop and try on the Indigo TAKIBI Vest (34,000 yen), a handy thing to have when starting campfires. Snow Peak syncs with my hometown, and now I’m feeling nostalgic. I think back to making fires with my grandfather out in our backyard when I was kid, a heart-warming memory.
Near the entrance, I find a cool bottle. Hey, it’s sake! I ask, and the idea is sake for the outdoors. Very interesting. I inspect the bottle: it’s Soujo Kubota Seppou (3,000 yen), developed jointly by Snow Peak with Asahi-Shuzo brewery. I lean a little further forward. I imagine myself enjoying a cup of sake in front of a campfire. I can’t get enough, but I think I’ll save it for after retirement.
I descend to the first floor and exit GINZA SIX onto Chuo-dori. On my way home, in the middle of Ginza, my neighborhood shopping street comes back to mind. Far-off foreign lands, the town where I was born, and the place I live now. They all connect in a swirl, filling me with happiness as I return to the station.
Text: Takuya Ebe Photos: Kanako Noguchi Edit: Yuka Okada(81)
江部拓弥
1969年出生。早稻田大学毕业后,进入总公司。经过《President》编辑部等,2006年开始从事《dancyu》的编辑工作。2012年9月~2017年7月作为《dancyu》主编制作了55本,2017年11月作为主编成立了《dancyu web》。
https://dancyu.jp