NOV 25: Izumo Monogatari- Part 1

Izumo Monogatari- Part 1

yakumo tatsu        here, where eight clouds rise

Izumo yaegaki       in the land of Izumo

tsumagomi ni        I will house my beloved

yaegaki tsukuru    inside an eightfold fence

sono yaegaki wo  inside an eightfold fence

-Susanoo, Kojiki (Record of Ancient Matters)
Translated Makoto Ueda ("Introduction," pp. x-xi)

Every morning in Izumo, Dennis and I exited our hotel into a shroud of fog hanging low over the city. It had been a very hot week, with October temps reaching 80-85 from Nagano to Osaka and Okayama, and we were grateful for the reprieve. For both of us (I grew up in the sunset district of SF, he grew up in Santa Cruz) cool, cloudy mornings like this feel comforting and familiar, a soft blanket of heather grey. Enshrouded in mist, exploration feels spiritual, quiet, and mysterious, because the end of each block is hidden until you reach it. 

Izumo is the ancient name for the Eastern part of what is now Shimane prefecture, one of the oldest settlements in Japanese history and epicenter of Japanese mythology. Its central shrine, Izumo Taisha, is the region’s most important landmark and Japan’s second most important shinto shrine. It is dedicated to the kind god, Okuninushi-no-okami, who handed the physical plane of Japan over to Amaterasu in exchange for a grand home for him (Izumo Taisha) and leadership of the unseen world, 幽世, kakuriyo. Izumo is also home to the earliest mention of sake, which was used by Okuninushi’s father and credited author of the above poem, Susanoo, to subdue the great 8-headed serpent Yamata-no-orochi. Nara prefecture claims the earliest physical records of brewing (recipes, quantities) while Izumo’s sake is part of Japan’s origin myth. It’s a “who’s first?” debate that neither will ever really win.

 

Dinner with Maiko at Yoshidaya

In such an ancient, complex and moody place, we were so grateful to have a guide. Through our friend Reina, who trained at Takasaki no Okan, we connected with Izumo native Maiko-san. Maiko’s long history as an izakaya proprietress and artist took an interesting turn when she returned to her family home late in the pandemic. She renovated her home’s spacious barn into a charming sake bar and community room named SPACE大北 (Ohkita– big north– is her home’s historic name on old maps). Maiko’s Tokyo business Yotsuya Bar then relaunched as NEW 大北, connecting her two homes. She uses these two headquarters to create a hidden passage to Izumo in Tokyo, a respite for Izumo travelers and a keyhole for Tokyoites seeking deeper meaning. In a tale as old as time, Maiko had to leave her foggy, sleepy childhood home to finally see its charm.

We met Maiko-san earlier that day at Kumezakura Shuzo, where we spent 4 hours (and 20 pages of notes) unraveling the philosophy and worldview of Kumezakura toji Miwa-san. Kumezakura is about an hour east from Izumo up Daisen in Tottori prefecture, an especially gloomy, foggy mountain half subsumed by Japanese mountaineering brands, half mystical, with red-bonnetted jizo statues peeking out of every grove and around every turn. Sake lovers who appreciate Kumezakura’s wild, untamed flavors automatically share a hyper-niche subculture (within a subculture) so we’re both really looking forward to dinner at Yoshidaya, eager to learn Maiko’s story. (Maiko-san at right, tolerating us)

Yoshidaya is walking distance to the station and across the street from Juji Asahi Shuzo, which we’ll be visiting soon (in part 2). The izakaya seats around 16, with a main bar and a few small tables in back. Smoking is permitted unfortunately, but given the quality of the food I wouldn’t hesitate to go again. Much of the menu is themed around seafood because the proprietor is a fisherman himself, so you know the quality of the fish is exceptional. Most of the sake is local to the greater San’in region, with an impressive collection of aged selections on the shelf from Juji Asahi (of course), Tamazakura and Tenon, plus others I don’t recognize. We make our way through ichigo (180ml) after ichigo, quickly jumping into the aged stuff served warm, all of which pairs gorgeously with the food and autumn chill. In retrospect, this approach to sake storage and service: robust, rustic local sake, aged for softness and richness, stored at room temperature for customers to see and order, served warm–is the trademark of Izumo izakaya, and an inspiration to me at Sunflower.

Honestly, all of the food is delicious but a few memorable dishes include the butterflied/panko-fried shime-saba with Japanese-style tartar sauce, shredded smoked saba ground into miso and served as a dollop of tasty paste for nibbling, local mushroom chawanmushi, and of course– the local sashimi moriawase, served with Izumo’s distinct sweet, dense shoyu. I ask Maiko what the “locals’ otsumami” is, the locals’ go-to drinking snack, and she answers that the tourist choice would be akaten, a bright pink, panko-crusted fried fish cake…but for local folks, sashimi with sweet Izumo shoyu.

As we drink a little more and language becomes more fluid, we learn that Maiko-san is studying English so that she can establish a curated, culinary-cultural guiding experience here in Izumo. It started with an instagram account: @izumo_guide, which has since ballooned to over 16,000 followers. I think what’s particularly special about Maiko is that she lives and breathes her local network of farmers, fishermen and makers: they are vendors for her businesses, regulars at her bar, community co-parents, childhood friends. Many are natives but even more are city transplants drawn by a slower way of life, a millennial community that values good food and drink, who work to live not live to work. Maiko-san has found a thread of locals whose shared values in philosophy, art, and nature feel much like those we value here in Portland. She has a strong networking instinct and cares deeply about her friends; she’s a cheerleader, artist and creator, the type of person who cultivates these skills to lift up others. We talk into the night about our own plans for the future (you’ll learn about those soon enough!) and how we can hopefully, one day, work together. We stop one ichigo shy of too much, and part ways to rest before a very busy itinerary.

Sleep, rail & coffee

We decided to stay in a Super Hotel near the station as it was walking distance to Maiko’s home and most of our evening plans (an important consideration when you’re going out with bartenders and sake brewers). A Japanese business hotel chain, Super Hotel has your typical setup (tiny: bed, bath and mini desk) but everything about the design is meant to guarantee a good night’s sleep, which at this point in the trip I sorely needed. The front lobby offers many different sizes and styles of pajamas, a pillow bar for picky sleepers, organic breakfast buffet, and complimentary evening drink bar.  Most locations also include a top floor onsen with piped-in geothermal water. Most important, the room has thick, double-paned windows with zero noise transmission and a fully blackout shade. We woke up disoriented at 8AM when the alarm went off…wondering, is it still night? Anyway, nothing luxurious but I’d definitely stay again.

The iconic orange rail, Ichibata, runs from Izumo Station to to Izumo Taisha and is satisfyingly replete with velvet-upholstered wooden benches, folding tables, and raucously noisy rattling bits and pieces. You need to enter a special station to the side of the JR station (go left!) and buy a special ticket at the machine– it does not accept PASMO/ICOCA.

When we arrived at Izumo Taisha station, our first stop was urgent: I needed a cup of light roast coffee + sausage sandwich from darling micro-roaster BLANKS STAT. We’d been making do with black-as-night roast countryside brews and Tetsu Kasuya’s konbini collab the last week (it’s pretty decent, honestly). The back room (shoes off, please) felt like someone’s own home and the garden view was as relaxing and peaceful as the breakfast itself. The ham toastie has a fat slice of ham and the banana bread is flavorful and homely.

Izumo soba

After a quick solo wander around the shrine’s tourism district, we headed toward lunch with Maiko: Izumo soba, considered one of the 3 most famous soba noodles in Japan. The other two are Wanko Soba of Iwate (perhaps more gimmick than recipe?) where small portions are served in an endless succession of red lacquer bowls. The second, Tokagushi Soba of Nagano, is famous for its rustic, unhulled, sauce-gripping texture and plating: 5 bite-size loops on a flat basket. The third, Izumo Soba, might be the most distinctive. In its most traditional form a local cultivar of unhulled soba is served with the cooking water (sobaya) and locally grown toppings, like soft-cooked egg. We were originally slated to go to her friend’s place, Soba Tanayaka, which is right in front of the shrine and one of the most famous, passed down through generations.  But it so happens that today Tanakaya-san is busy doing a pop-up (Papa Shokudo!) with other local fathers at a nearby beer brewery/creative space. So instead, we line up at Soba Kouichi (そば耕一) around 11:40. They don’t take reservations, and Maiko is worried they’ll sell out, so we made sure to arrive early.

At this creative little restaurant, in addition to traditional Izumo soba you can try the chef’s own variations. Usually I start with the OG but it’s a cold, cold day and I want a hot bowl full of soup– actually, we all do. Dennis gets the pork: hot soba in dashi with thick slices of smoked local bacon, while Maiko and I get the nori, which is a jet black mound of local nori shreds melting into delicious brothy noodle sludge. I usually don’t drink at lunch, but a few days ago I read an interview between Kojima-san, toji of Tenon, and Sobadokoro Tanakaya chef Toshiki Tanaka and honestly, I was touched by the connection Tanaka described between sake and soba. Despite my Russian heritage (and deep sensory relationship to buckwheat) I’ve never seen soba as something with deeper meaning. 

Tanaka-san writes,

Having a soba shop in front of the Izumo Taisha gates gives us a clearer understanding of how we should think, how we should act. [It’s an immensely powerful responsibility.]
The same can be said for sacred sake (omiki) and kagura (traditional dance). 

It's not about enjoying yourself, but about doing something for others. It’s an act of service, a blessing.
I'm moved by the hospitality of others. I think this is an incredibly important thing. 

I want to treat them as worshippers, not as guests, and provide them with hospitality through making soba noodles.

Noble sake, noble soba. I want to do noble work.

Tanaka: If you take a sip, you'll probably feel like you've arrived in Izumo.
Kojima: It fulfills the meaning of hospitality. And drinking sake definitely makes soba taste better– It opens up your palate.

Tanaka: Yes, I think so all the time. You can really feel the aroma of the soba.

Kojima: It changes so much it's almost unbelievable.

Tanaka: When you drink sake while eating, you become more aware of what's in your food. Your senses are heightened. It's strange, isn't it?

So I went ahead and ordered an ichigo (180ml) of atsukan from Tenon. While I was eating my soba I closed my eyes, and tried to feel its nuances. I’m not sure what changed, but sensations of peace and connectivity spread through me like water saturating a sponge. My soba was delicious but not in a way that’s familiar, in fact many of the sensations and flavors were foreign and in some ways jarring, let’s just say I didn’t grow up with nori sludge being a thing. But the atsukan was like a comforting glue, a blanket, a sound-dampening foam, I felt happy and secure as the lovely scents of dashi, seaweed and soba rose within a framework of savory ricey sake. If I weren’t in Izumo, I think I could have closed my eyes and envisioned this place just based on the smells.

Izumo Taisha  

After this, we visited the Izumo Taisha shrine. Enormous, commanding, an intense gravity to this place. From the world’s largest shimenawa (rice straw rope demarcating holy places— the one here is 44 feet long, 26 feet in width and weighs 5 tons) to the long walkway running from the enormous entry gate to the main buildings (humans may not pass through the middle of the walkway, only gods) and the many sculptures and perfectly manicured trees, it exudes a spiritual energy. As Shinto is a nature-worshipping religion, its oldest shrines are not physical structures but natural places with organic profundity, and it’s thanks to Maiko that we left the beaten path to three small shrines outside of the main complex. The first, just to the right of the central complex is a grouping of three small structures dotted with carved stone fox statues honoring Inari, the fox god of rice and harvest (best known for the Fushimi Inari taisha in Kyoto). Immediately to the right down a small path is the Tenjinja, a tiny rock island with a natural waterfall behind it and maples enshrouding the small shrine. The young kami (deity) here is responsible for health, medicine and sake brewing, and you can see a small effigy of him riding a turtle a short walk away. I stopped to pray and felt deeply impressed by this hidden place, the natural beauty is moving– I thought to myself that of course, even hundreds or a thousand years ago man would have noticed its profound energy.

From here, Maiko took us to her favorite shrine, Kamimusubi Inochinushi no Yashiro, which is a few blocks further to the right (past a parking lot, and another shrine up a tall staircase) marked by an ancient, enormous, gnarled and wise Zelkova tree, said to be over 1000 years old. The enshrined deity is Kamimusubi no Kami, one of the three gods of creation. He is known as the deity who revived Okuninushi-no-Mikoto after he was persecuted by his brothers and lost his life. After praying at the shrine, she takes us around back to another surprise: the Manai Ruins. These ruins were discovered by chance when a large stone was quarried here in 1665, revealing a magatama (ancient symbol of Amaterasu) and bronze spear. Sake one-cups, shuki, and other sake items are on display here because according to Maiko, this place has an association with omiki, sacred sake. The unique atmosphere cannot be fully conveyed through photos or words...you should definitely go and see it for yourself.

We follow the “correct” path, counter-clockwise, around the main shrine which Maiko explains is from the counter-clockwise pattern of the shimenawa rope. There is a place where visitors can take a small amount of wet sand with them, this sand is from the beach nearby where kami are said to dock and from there, walk to the Izumo Taisha for their annual congress. Before we leave, I buy an ema (a wooden plaque) to write down my wish and hang it on a nearby tree. There is no specified format for ema, you can make requests for yourself or for others as well as general prayers— this practice has existed since at least 1000 AD.

Nourishment at Yoyado Souan 

From here, we go to BSKK coffee, a super-vibey, renovated old hospital with backyard gardens, for snacks, beer, coffee, and to check out Maiko’s friend’s screen printing business upstairs. Then, it’s off to the magnificent Yuyado Souan for the night: a historic onsen-ryokan with private houses and dreamy, immersive rooms that land somewhere between traditional Japanese and English library (there is, in fact, a library room you can relax in and write a postcard using an old-timey ink pen). The baths themselves are fantastic of course, but the dinner was really something… to give you an idea, it comes with a 4-page guidebook detailing the health benefits of practically every single ingredient. No matter that it’s a 10-gram nibble, each carrot, cured local shellfish, tofu sauce and seaweed is accounted for, its vitamins and minerals explained. At the end of the multi-course meal, I have to admit I felt a lot better than I usually do at these dinners but I think it’s more thanks to the moderate portions and generous use of vegetables, than the specific nutritional composition thereof. I don’t recommend the local Shimane wines unfortunately, we had other opportunities to try them, but the local nihonshu are of course world-class. Ouroku is hard to find (anywhere), minerally, bright and crisp; Rihaku and Toyonoaki are classic and layered, Tenon is a religious experience best served at room temp (“jo-on”). Anyway, I highly recommend Yoyado Souan for its thoughtful luxury, highly competent bilingual sommelier, peaceful premises and veggie-rich cuisine. It’s spendy, but if you want to go all-out for a night (after a few weeks in tiny business hotels, it’s very nice to look forward to!) I would definitely go back.

1300 Years of Wakame in Uppurui

I’ve never seen wakame harvested. On this gloomy day I thought I’d break a lifelong dry spell, but in the Northern coast of Shimane weather is unpredictable and the Sea of Japan makes the rules. Teppei Nishikawa, who runs the tiny but mighty business Misakimaru Fishery Products in Uppurui, Shimane, is one of two remaining wakame farmers in this area. The industry has been gutted by the mass exodus of young Japanese from rural villages to cities, pursuing a better and easier life, reliable pay, and modern conveniences. More fundamentally, the post-war rise in cheap imports from China and the commodification/industrialization of Japanese food caused a drop in demand, drop in prices, for local Japanese wakame. To survive in 2025 means building a brand and positioning Japanese wakame as a luxury ingredient worth splurging on, so the quality must be self-evident as well as the face behind the business. 

Nishikawa-san, who grew up in the mountainous inland of Hyogo, fell in love with the sea as a child. At 25, he saw this same love in the eyes of a young woman from Izumo and moved to her hometown, Uppurui. Even in texts dating to 700 AD (the Izumo Fudoki), Izumo’s sea plants and salt-making are mentioned; the mixture of warm and cold currents, aggressive waters and rocky shores, are perfect for wakame and iwanori (locally called Uppurui nori). At least a thousand years ago, natives learned how to use salt and sunlight to preserve the wakame in a half-dried, tender yet preserved state. With the waters as rough as they are today, we’re keen to learn more about wakame but we must do it from a distance. Nishikawa-san leads us to the village a few kilometers away, a hamlet that rises from the shore up a creek-carved nook in the mountains. This is a town of maybe 20 residents… if I were more sensitive, I might not mention that half the homes we walk past are abandoned. Termed akiya, abandoned homes are a systemic issue in Japan: nearly 10 million remain empty and unmaintained. It’s not quite like homes we have in the US: traditional Japanese homes aren’t built with 100 or even 50 years in mind, perhaps 30… so now, weather-beaten and overgrown, they are both a liability and a sad reminder of the village’s former health. Nishikawa-san tells us that most of the remaining residents are related (he waves hello to the curious folks who peek out of their doors), and he points out the wild gardens that are in actuality, old foundations.  The gorgeous shoreline scenery, quirky hillside homes, lush landscape and soft rain are a study in contrasts. I recall in frustration the million-dollar homes of coastal California. How is Uppurui so forgotten?

At the top of the hill, a hundred or more steep stone steps lead to a shrine that overlooks the hamlet and its waters. Kozujinja Shrine is flanked by deteriorating kappa statues and fu-dogs, but the ubiquitous fox in the front suggests Inari, the god of rice harvest and in places like this, success in fishing and business. What I’m learning though is that a shrine-behind-the-shrine is always worth checking for. This one is dedicated to “purple nori”– Dennis traces the kanji while our friends confirm. We wonder out loud how many seaweed shrines could there be in Japan? Clapping twice, we pray together for the prosperity of Misakimaru. As we shuffle down the steps together, Nishikawa-san remarks that this might be the first– or second?— time that foreigners have prayed at Kozujinja. It’s an honor. 

After a quick trip to the tip of the cape which is dotted in massive, imposing windmills, the most appropriate way to wrap this experience is learning more about wakame at the (300 square foot?) misakimaru facility and having a little lunch. We can’t see it in person, but (for the first time ever maybe) I’m glued to the laptop screen watching footage of wakame harvesting. Like fork into pasta, Nishikawa sinks his staff into the softest young fronds as they sway to and fro. He whips them around– I’m sure there’s more to it than that– and pulls the staff out with a forkful of wakame. Hours later, the seaweed is thoroughly cleaned, blanched, then shocked in cold water to fix the bright green color. After draining, the wakame is generously mixed with local sea salt, naturally drawing out moisture. It’s cured until softly tender, a sort of mostly-dried yet still chewy, salty state. The naturally preserved wakame is full of deliciously briney flavor, a quick rinse & soak restoring it to life. With determination in his throat, Nishikawa-san passionately explains that less than 1% of all wakame used in Japan is from Japan. These traditions are more than just their culinary application however: it’s the practice, the lifestyle, the industry and community Japan stands to lose if its people fail to support local products. At the end of the day, a hot bowl of chubby udon noodles, house-made fishcake and a mound of tender wakame speaks loudest. The flavor humans have enjoyed for 1300 years, still tastes wonderful today.

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NEW OHKITA  ニューオーキタ

東京都新宿区左門町1‐17 アパルトマン四谷 1F 

Shinjuku City, Tokyo

YOSHIDAYA  魚酒場 よしだ屋

1346 Imaichicho, Izumo, Shimane 693-0001, Japan

Izumo, Shimane

BLANKS Coffee

783-3 Taishacho Kizukiminami, Izumo, Shimane 699-0711, Japan

Izumo, Shimane

SOBA TANAKAYA そば処 田中屋

364 Taishacho Kizukihigashi, Izumo, Shimane 699-0701, Japan

Izumo, Shimane

YOYADO SOUAN 湯宿 草菴

1491 Hikawacho Gakuto, Izumo, Shimane 699-0501, Japan

Shobara Station, Shimane

MISAKIMARU FISHERIES PROCESSING 海咲丸

〒691-0042 島根県出雲市十六島町515-13
Uppurui, Shimane
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NEW OHKITA ニューオーキタ
東京都新宿区左門町1‐17 アパルトマン四谷 1F
Shinjuku City, Tokyo

YOSHIDAYA 魚酒場 よしだ屋
1346 Imaichicho, Izumo, Shimane 693-0001, Japan
Izumo, Shimane

BLANKS Coffee
783-3 Taishacho Kizukiminami, Izumo, Shimane 699-0711, Japan
Izumo, Shimane

SOBA TANAKAYA そば処 田中屋
364 Taishacho Kizukihigashi, Izumo, Shimane 699-0701, Japan
Izumo, Shimane

YOYADO SOUAN 湯宿 草菴
1491 Hikawacho Gakuto, Izumo, Shimane 699-0501, Japan
Shobara Station, Shimane

MISAKIMARU FISHERIES PROCESSING 海咲丸
〒691-0042 島根県出雲市十六島町515-13
Uppurui, Shimane