The Hippy Dippy SF Sakeman

Here in the Underground , ensconced in our safe bubble of San Francisco, day 21 passes with the Prime Minister of my oft adopted homeland, Nippon, grimacing from a creepy and overly long, man-on-man love handshake, delivered like a cheap used car salesman desperate for a sale, a maniacal, gazing look in his eyes as he tries to hypnotize you into buying that Pinto despite your heartfelt misgivings of ever dealing with this man. This is #SCROTUS, scraped off the floor of that shitty, old man's dive bar at 2AM by the Bernie-loving (but not Hilary voting), Millenial hipster bar lady adorned with tattoos who's been avoiding his leering eyes, cheap cigar smoke and lame ass advances for most of her shift...now deposited back into his gas guzzling, 80's era Cadillac Brougham with a brick of a cellphone....taking him back to his White House, where he will brood over Morning Joe in his bathrobe, exhorting Omarosa to dictate more Tweets until he is whisked into the Oval Office at 6:3...

I am typically a bitter critter, that was before many things that have brought on a curmudgeon-level degree of hopelessness, at times. Jerry Garcia's been dead for over 20 years. The 49ers have been run into the ground by a petulant Trust Funder who wouldn't be appointed to run a 7Eleven if it weren't bequeathed to him by family. And now, our country is being run by a 70 year old, petulant Trusty who somehow managed to mug and lie his way into the White House, unfortunately aided by some of the women who protested yesterday but some of whom, sadly, probably voted for the man. Though there may be a big spark of hope from yesterday's marches (which will quickly dissipate if there is no follow-up action, making yesterday just another fading memory), we must acknowledge where we are, and what it will take to dig us out of this mess in part created by the 45 million eligible voters who didn't vote, and the 7 million that voted for someone who had no chance to win (...

I realize that this blog has been dormant since a day off in 2012, but I think it's fitting to bring it back. The sake still flows, but I am now once again an SF Realtor in search of my next listing, working hard to get buyers like my recent clients/friends successfully into their future homes despite rampant competition. I enjoy it immensely, but do miss shooting the breeze with customers over a nice junmai from Yamagata-ken (preferably Take No Tsuyu). To that end, Mari and I have kept up the tradition by inviting friends and customers, past and present, into our home for a series of dinners, which continues tonight with a sake and sushi slam! Please sign up to follow this blog, as it will be a fun read and a great way to find out where/when Nombe will be doing Street Food, cooking classes, festivals and other events. And now, a few words about our Donald....... AMERICA, you are reaping what you have sowed. If you thought "the fat naked gay guy" from the first sea...

So there Mari-san and I were on Monday morning, pondering what to do with a gorgeous Monday when neither of us possessed the energy to emerge from bed. In Star Trek parlance, we were barely at impulse power, but the sun finally beckoned us out of our house and into our little beaten Miata, heading for Tomales Bay in Marin to enjoy some oysters. A note of caution to other San Franciscans like us with no sense of time: other people do follow posted signs, like those that say "We close the picnic area at 4:45. It takes an hour to get here from the Bridge, so plan your trip accordingly." Needless to say, leaving Bernal Heights at 2:55 does not leave much room for Murphy to muck up your plans to drive through Marin's redwoods at 60 mph. We got there at 4:35, and Sean told us he could only sell us a dozen to eat on site as he had to go to his next job (band practice, it turned out, but that's cool!). However, after a little cajoling and speaking one of my languages...

I'm at Magnolia Brewery trying to bide my time while waiting for Chef Noriyuki Sugie and Mari-San to come back to finish tasting beers for our SF Beer Week pairing with Magnolia. We'll have 4 Magnolia beers won tap all month, and during beer week we are offering them paired with four dishes by Chef Nori (plus beer ice cream that Mari-san is making from Smokestack Lightningw Imperial Stout) all for just $40! As brewmaster Ben Spencer joined us (regaling tales from a recent trip to the Riviera Maya to catch some Widespread Panic shows), I had a moment to reflect on how, very often in life, it all just comes together. What do I mean? Well, despite our chef changes et al, we are still alive, we've got a great new energy coming with Chef Sugie's entrance to Nombe, and we are doing our 3rd annual SF Beer Week with Magnolia. Couple this with my plans to finally bottle the sake I developed with Aisawa-San of Take no Tsuyu Brewery in Yamagata-Ken, and one can see that for...

I remember one night having dinner at my in-laws house in Yokohama. The ladies (my wife Mari, her sister and her mother) were talking about a myriad of things at one side of the table while my father-in-law and I were sharing glasses of Suigei and talking about his favorite sport, baseball. As usual, I was answering many questions about steroid use, and about my feelings about SF hero Barry Bonds. I always defended him, and I would always find myself trying to persuade dad that cheating and baseball went hand-in-hand. After about an hour, we were getting a little tipsy but, being men, we just kept going as the conversation shifted to politics (of course). At this time, dad and I noticed that the ladies attention had now turned to our drinking and discourse. My sister-in-law said that it seems that all dad likes to do these days is drink, to which Kiyoshi said something I`ll never forget: "I worked for over thirty five years and am now retired. If I want to drink a lot, t...