GINZA SIX EDITORS
新一般和银座 Ginza and the New Normal
GINZA SIX EDITORS Vol.100
变得去银座，再经过了23年。即使(Magazine House)是越过30之间的堀川的对面，三原桥的木挽町。也许第23年的银座就是说年龄的一半对45岁的自己来说是虽然正感觉去这个市镇的好像可以说"银座终于对我"来说总觉得是有缘的市镇一点可是还仍然早。"Hanako"正是由关系的深的杂志将近80回在32年之间在Magazine House中在银座这个市镇而且实际做成银座专刊。是变成月刊的现在还一年2次的速度。因此能和银座的市镇的各处认识，因为在Hanako变更了所以也参加祭。这样啊，啊，还不能能说的假名据说"银座仍然其实再大声是我的市镇"。银座在那个特别的特别的市镇。
在肉的前面，踢是为什么的niya吧。过去在"BRUTUS"在册时做肉专刊了的时候写了"味道好的肉作为社会"的标题。人在肉的周围聚集。是"Meet around Meat"(现在回头看的话稍微地感到不好意思)的话。和女主人谈得非常起劲有弹性。作为爱好肉的东西是那样。
什么在B2F下来，顺路拜访意大利·都灵最古的咖啡厅"Bicerin"(二Ｃｈｅ磷)。是创业的传说中的咖啡厅1763年。在米兰，在montenaporeone的1817年创业的"CaféCova Milano也"(kafekovamirano)有名，但是因为实际上在那个2家tomoga GINZA SIX里所以提起意大利的老铺咖啡厅的话非常抱歉。银胸罩，在这里极mareri。
即使如此，因为每天是正通过的市镇所以记住GINZA SIX完成了时候的打击。只和光在银座没有外表在monyumentaru象征性的建筑物的话个人在想中一边辨明〝银座规则〟，一边作为闪闪发光的新来的人出现的GINZA SIX。是感到用好像对1F部分作为银座的路面店的连贯性做持tasetaridatoka，层内部的通道的jiguzaku的小巷的部分，risupekuto做银座，更新银座的迄今在这个市镇没有的存在的意义的放出，这个长时间应该在在银座那样留下来，做，造了的话感到了。在我成为老大爷的时候，在和光对年轻的人来说感觉到GINZA SIX是在平地从昔日起在银座有的帅的建筑物的时代，一定正成为吧。想得。
以及从心里想支援在GINZA SIX到这样的时机做的这个3家事情。也听说大城市的魅力跌下来，地区的魅力提高的那样的语言，但是感觉到没有银座的魅力降下来的。作为那个不有魅力，并且因为不过银座是大城市所以也不和市镇的规模有关系，从事商店的人们的脸看得见那个举止的稀少的市镇是作为。想看想在想吃那个料理的那个空间放身体的那个人的脸。不过因为不在贪婪享受消费，想渡过心丰富的时间所以我们把身体放在市镇上。银座是那样的市镇，正请求GINZA SIX想今后也是有那样。
Text: Ro Tajima Photos: Yuichi Sugita Edit: Yuka Okada(81)
©1976,2020 SANRIO CO.,LTD. APPROVAL NO. L611995
I’ve been commuting to Ginza for 23 years. Well, not precisely Ginza: Magazine House is in the Kobikicho district, across Mihara Bridge, under which the now-buried Sanjikken canal once flowed. I’m 45 now. This is my 23rd year in Ginza, which means I’ve been coming to the district for half my life. I’m finally starting to feel I may have a special connection to Ginza, though perhaps it remains presumptuously soon to say such a thing. Within Magazine House, Hanako has even deeper ties to Ginza, having run nearly 80 features on the district in the course of its 32 years. Since becoming a monthly, Hanako still features Ginza twice a year. So, ever since my transfer to Hanako, I’ve had the opportunity to get to know numerous Ginza locals. I’ve even participated in community festivals. Perhaps I’m entitled to say, with more decision in my voice, “Ginza is my town!” Or maybe not quite yet. I believe Ginza is just that special a place.
On taking this assignment, I said I wanted to go to three establishments that opened recently. Opening a store or restaurant in prime Ginza real estate is something special. Nevertheless, in the coronavirus age, is the picture of Ginza the owners of these three establishments once had in their minds still true? They themselves may be wondering if Ginza is OK. And that’s why, as an editor who works in and regularly features Ginza, I wanted to meet and talk to people from these three new places.
I went first to Kumamoto Akaushi Shabu-Shabu Koubai on the 13th floor. The 13th floor is a GINZA SIX hideaway filled with great establishments. Here you can enjoy shabu-shabu with Akaushi Kouseigyu beef from Aso, one of my favorite places in Japan. Akaushi beef from cattle raised in a magnificent natural setting—I’m getting pretty excited.
Today I’ll have the Rin course (18,000 yen; all prices listed before tax). First up are four appetizers: clockwise from top left, godofu, stewed Akaushi beef, taguri yuba, and Akaushi beef cooked at low temperature.
The local Saga godofu in particular, homemade tofu made by kneading soy milk and hon-kudzu from Yoshino, is especially savory. “The kneading process takes quite a bit of work,” Ms Ueda, the restaurant’s proprietress tells me.
Next is meat sushi. The cut served changes each time. This time it’s chuck flap. Add Maldon salt and powdered roasted sea urchin to taste. And it’s just as one would expect for the 13th floor!
And now, yes, the shabu-shabu has arrived. Today’s course is chuck short rib, tongue, ribeye lip, chuck flap, rib roast, sirloin, top sirloin cap, and top blade. The meat is sliced after you place your order.
Why am I grinning here? Way back when, when I was at BRUTUS, we did a meat feature with the title “Meet around Meat” (which sounds a bit embarrassing now), meaning that meat is social, that people congregate around it. My talk with Ms Ueda is warming up. “You look like you love meat.” “Don’t we both?”
I’m not trying to hide anything (and I’m not), but I’m a fundamentalist about sesame seed sauce. I make a pretty big fuss about it. To be honest, I’m often more interested in the sesame seed sauce than the meat. But, taking in the sauce that’s arrived, I’m amazed. This sauce! This glorious sesame seed sauce!
The restaurant’s own sesame paste is presented as something like a dumpling, to be broken apart as you wish, essentially allowing you to make your own sesame dipping sauce. The flavor is magnificent. The sesame paste alone could probably be paired with sake—altogether a course of action worth taking.
Shiitake samurai mushrooms from Tokushima further enrich the flavor of the Rishiri kombu dashi in the pot, wherein one slowly swishes the meat, shabu-shabu style, through the low temperature broth. This is because if the broth were brought to a boil, God forbid, the savor would simply take its leave. Swish-swish, shabu-shabu, swish-swish, shabu-shabu, slowly, leisurely, chill.
The talk turns to Aso, to Ginza. Ms Ueda is a pleasing conversationalist; I’m completely settled in now. Times being what they are, it’s nice to have the option of a private room into which one can settle, as I’ve done today, a place where one can come to have a leisurely dinner with a friend or close acquaintances. I promise to come again on my own time, then make my way belowground.
Now standing on the second belowground floor, I stop by Bicerin, named for the oldest café in Turin, Italy, a legend founded way back in 1763. The famous Café Cova Milano is another of Italy’s venerable cafés, this one founded in 1817 and located in Milan on the upscale Via Monte Napoleone shopping thoroughfare. Actually, they’re both here at GINZA SIX, so the one will have to pardon me for opting for the other. Not such a rare occurrence at GINZA SIX, I imagine.
I’m in a dolce mood after shabu-shabu and order the café’s signature bicerin (1,000 yen), a chocolate drink that means small glass in the Turin dialect. You drink it by tilting the glass to your mouth without disturbing the lovely layers of hot chocolate, espresso, and fresh cream. The recipe and temperature are rigorously controlled. Hemingway is said to have loved it. As an aside, I’d hazard that recommendations from Ernest Hemingway, Shotaro Ikenami, or Juzo Itami are clinchers for just about any male editor.
As I’m enjoying my bicerin alone, not stirring it with a certain panache, I suddenly notice Hello Kitty sitting next to me. What? Kitty? How?
Actually, Kitty was so moved by the taste of bicerin when she visited Turin, she’s now in training, I’m told. She’s sitting there in the middle between the seats to help in the café’s social distancing efforts. Compatriots of the same age, we share a sense of affinity. I’ve been wrapped up in men’s magazine mode for a bit, but now I’m back in Hanako lane. Well, Kitty, I think next time I’ll have something off a special Hello Kitty collaborative menu.
In no time at all the time has come to head back to the office. I’m thinking of buying our editorial staff a little souvenir, so I’m off to Bashodo, also located here on the second belowground floor. Founded back in 1868, it’s sold mochi rice cakes forever—it began making its trademark warabimochi some 80 years ago.
There’s a demonstration space in the corner of the store. When I inquire, I’m told the current president hosts events at department stores around the country, from Hokkaido to Okinawa, and that his sales demonstrations have become quite popular. The warabimochi of just this squishy-squishy consistency, the powdery matcha, and the cut, cut, cut, cutting. Actually, strictly speaking, in ASMR terms, it doesn’t sound like cut, cut, cut. But, at any rate, the sensation of warabimochi being cut is a thrill.
I find myself, without thinking, gazing, gazing, gazing from the front row. My apologies. I inquire into the secrets of the wondrous consistency. I’m told the warabimochi is prepared over direct heat in copper pots, which are somewhat difficult to handle, and that the proprietors are anxious that we enjoy the fresh warabimochi at its softest.
I look into the showcase and see these as well. These Warabimochi Manju (from 232 yen each), with fillings including smooth sweet bean paste (anko), white bean paste, roasted green tea latte-flavored bean paste and mango-flavored bean paste, surrounded by dough made from warabimochi that is jiggly-jiggly (differing from squishy-squishy, to be sure). I believe this is something the women editors at the office would like. I get some, along with the warabimochi.
I wrote on the whiteboard that I was going out a bit (the actual term I used puzzled some of the younger staff; it must be a middle-aged male thing), and I ended up buying all sorts of souvenirs and gifts. But, my dear younger colleagues, warabimochi is to be regarded as something like a drink! Hopefully I’ll make it back before our 3 o’clock break.
Since I’m in Ginza every day, I remember my shock when GINZA SIX was built. Until then, I’d seen Wako as the only iconic building in Ginza. Along comes GINZA SIX, a sparkling newcomer reflecting an understanding of traditional Ginza rules.
The first floor portion maintains continuity with the very Ginza-esque storefronts at street level, the indoor passageways zig and zag like the alleyways outside—a tribute to Ginza—while updating tradition with a presence the district lacked before. I get the sense it was built to last, to be a Ginza fixture for a very long time to come. When I’m an old man, the youngsters will likely look at Wako and look at GINZA SIX and see, on equal terms, two really cool Ginza buildings that have been around a long, long time. I certainly hope so.
There are fewer people in Ginza right now, and it’s been this way for some time now. Is this really the new normal? Both retail complexes and magazines, strictly speaking, are non-essential. But the new normal gets constantly overwritten. We need diversion and brightness in our lives to live. In these unpredictable times, we have no choice but to faithfully proceed, little by little, while keeping a hopeful eye on the latest developments.
In the middle of all this, from my depths, I want to cheer on and support the three establishments I visited today at GINZA SIX. Urban areas are becoming less attractive while rural areas grow more attractive—it’s something you hear all the time these days. But I feel Ginza’s charms will never fade. The appeal of Ginza doesn’t lie in its urban character. Rather, it’s that rare neighborhood, regardless of scope or scale, where one encounters shopkeepers, their bearing and conduct, as people, openly. I want to eat that food, I want to be in this space, I want to see that face. It’s not simply about lavishly enjoying consumption. We come for the richness of the time spent here. Ginza is a rare example of this kind of space. I hope it remains so for a long, long time to come.
Text: Ro Tajima Photos: Yuichi Sugita Edit: Yuka Okada（81）
©1976, 2020 SANRIO CO., LTD. APPROVAL NO. L611995
"Hanako"主编。1974年出生，1997年Magazine House进入公司。在1998年"BRUTUS"编辑部对分配，2010年副主编。在2016年进行"Hanako"主编就任，大重新改装。现在，作为"实现职业女人的〝更多的想知道的〟的智能的生活方式媒介，"不停在杂志，是数码·活动、读者组织、商品开发等的广泛的场，并且展开Hanako品牌。正在Instagram GINZASIX_OFFICIAL传播