Hiroshima, Japan We took a short trip today. By ferry, we went to Miyajima, a picturesque island about 8 miles off the mainland of Hiroshima. After going down the river in Hiroshima, the ferry traveled into the Seto Inland Sea.
Considered one of the three most scenic spots in Japan, this island is mostly steep wooded hills. (The Japanese have a “top 3” for everything and this one falls in the category of “scenic top three.”) It is a sacred spot, and has a full complement of those little deer.
The major attraction is the Itsukushima Shrine complex, founded in 593 with the majority of the buildings dating from the 16th century — albeit with modern repairs.
At high tide, it seems the shrine appears to be floating, but we were there at low tide.
But the most famous landmark is the huge torii gate, raising out of the water. At 53 feet high, it’s one of the largest in Japan. It’s fabulous from any angle. Since the tide went out further as we were there, tourists were able to go right up to it, which gives you an idea of its massive size.
There are other temples to visit, but some required a fair bit of mountain climbing, so we took a pass, and instead admired the decorations along the way. We had intended to take the island ropeway, but once again found ourselves lost in the foothills of a mountain, with no clear signage to guide us. When we ultimately gave up and sought the downhill path, we finally got the the bottom and found a line of people waiting for a shuttle bus that goes right up to the ropeway. Go know.
So it was a pretty day, but a bit frustrating. Story of our lives, it seems. But there is always ice cream here to soothe the way, and other diversions, like a parade.
Don’s Food Corner
Finally, oysters! The area around Hiroshima produces most of Japan’s oysters — about 60 percent. And the area around Miyajima is particularly notable for its crop of oysters.
Walking on our way to see the shrine, we saw that the streets were lined with small stalls selling oysters and full restaurants specializing only in oysters. I was ready to try one. There was a guide book recommendation for a particularly significant restaurant and, happily, I was able to just walk in.
I selected the restaurant-recommended plate of oysters prepared seven ways — “raw,” breaded and deep-fried, poached on top of rice, in a reduced sauce to be poured over cabbage, smoked and pickled, pickled as if preserved, in a kind of miso chowder.
I didn’t like them.
Here’s why: When I think of eating oysters I associate them with a kind of raw presentation in ice and tasting with a briny sense of the sea. Oysters from various locations have a distinct sense of the sea in that form. The French are the most sophisticated for differentiating different kinds of oysters from different specific parts of the sea. (One of the delights of Paris are the sidewalk stalls selling single oysters of different types for a quick jolt of the sea.)
The same is true in England and, to a much lesser degree, Ireland. And, of course, the U.S., where there are oysters from the East Coast, the West Coast, and Canada. The oysters are enjoyed in a single mouthful as an experience of the part of the sea where they were cultivated. It always puzzled me why there were offers of cooked oysters. How could the sense of the sea be captured in a cooked oyster?
The seven variations of the oysters at today’s sampling were all cooked. Even the “raw” versions (“raw,” by the way, is a euphemism for still alive) were cooked briefly by roasting them in the shell over a charcoal grill. This is the version that was sold on the street in small shops.
The oysters were also gigantic — almost as large as the palm of my hand. So, when roasted, the oysters were still “raw” but hot. They were too large to be swallowed in one motion. They had to be chewed. Chewing something so large that was also “raw” (aka alive) gave me the creeps. I didn’t want to know my lunch that intimately.
As far as the other cooked oysters went — fried, poached, pickled, or in a soup — when the taste of the sea is taken away, the oysters themselves had very little unique flavor, unlike shrimp, for example. And, again, they were so large and meaty that you had to chew into something with a texture that I found unappealing.
There were twelve oysters on the plate. The cost was about $18. Cheap. But not what I was looking for. Perhaps somewhere else, some other day.