Drinking Japan. Chris Bunting
notes
Drinking too much
Drinking in a new environment has a way of making idiots out of people. Familiar cues that rein in excessive drinking are not present. Bars in Japan, for instance, open very late compared to many pubs in the UK, where I come from. British people often start drinking quite early in the evening, forgo food and drink at a breakneck pace because they are used to pubs closing between 11 and 12 pm. This kind of approach is likely to lead to embarrassment (or worse) in a drinking culture where many bars are still serving drinks at 4 am. The hazards will vary depending where you come from, but it is a good idea to take a conservative approach until you get your bearings.
“Kampai!”
Many Japanese drinking sessions will start with a toast and it is polite not to start gulping until the customary loud chorus of Kampai! Another drinking exclamation is Banzai!, which is far less popular than it once was but is still occasionally heard near the climax of an evening, particularly at company parties. Banzai does not mean that everybody present is about to fix bayonets, as some aficionados of John Wayne films may mistakenly believe. It literally means “10,000 years” and toasts the emperor’s long life (or, indeed, the longevity and prosperity of other, non-Emperor related pursuits).
The use of Kampai and Banzai as drinking toasts appears to be a relatively new phenomenon. Wherever there are drinkers there is always going to be someone who thinks a few words goes well with the first glass (see otōri, page 120) but it was the arrival of Western diplomats in the Meiji period (1868–1912) that formalized Japanese toasts. The foreigners were forever toasting their kings and presidents and so, not to be outdone, the Japanese representatives started shouting alcohol Banzais to the emperor. Later, in the 1910s and 1920s, Kampai! (from the Chinese exhortation Kampei!, “Drain your glass”) began to establish itself as a less Emperor-centric alternative to Banzai!
Another major cause of stomach-heaving futsukayoi (hangovers) is unfamiliarity with the alcohol being consumed. Sake is one of the world’s strongest brewed beverages. Knocking it back like beer will end in disaster. If the clear liquid you have been poured is shōchū, a distilled spirit weighing in at anything from 25 to 40 percent alcohol, you really need to be sipping, not gulping. Even some of the craft beer bars recommended in Chapter 4 can catch you off guard: a 9 percent Special Brown Ale from Hakusekikan, for instance, is a very different beast from a 4.7 percent London Pride.
Japanese drinking customs can sometimes push you into drinking too much. As I mentioned on page 23, it is common to pour drinks for other people in a group and you can find your glass being filled fairly constantly. In some circumstances, fellow drinkers may ask you to drink up before they pour for you. It is difficult to offer general advice on what to do in this sort of situation, because it really depends on who you are drinking with and how intoxicated they are, but three points to remember are: (1) You do not have to empty the glass before someone pours for you. It is very common indeed to take a small sip and offer a half or even three-quarters full glass to be topped up. (2) If you have had enough, it is not rude to say so (Kekko desu—“I’m fine”). (3) The custom of pouring drinks is supposed to be about shared conviviality. If you are feeling pressurized to drink more than you want, then the pourers are making the faux pas, not you.
Drinking in public
Legal restrictions on drinking in public are looser in Japan than in many countries, but social codes in this area are actually less forgiving. The general view is that food or drink should be properly appreciated while sitting down and that it is vulgar to walk around stuffing your face. The omnipresence of convenience stores and vending machines is starting to break down these social expectations among certain groups, but it is still crass to walk down a road swigging beer.
A yakitori (grilled chicken) restaurant in Shinjuku, Tōkyō. Grilled meats of various sorts, ranging from yakitori to grilled beef tongue, are popular drinking foods in modern Japan.
There are times when it is acceptable to drink in public places. Part of what is special about matsuri (festivals), hanabi (fireworks displays) and hanami (flower viewing picnics) is that the normal restrictions on the street can be transgressed.
Practicalities
Tsukidashi, otōshi and other entrance fees
Entrance charges are a source of much misunderstanding between foreign customers and the bars that levy them. Most bars in Japan have an entrance fee and many charge this fee by giving a small dish of food—called a tsukidashi or an otōshi—that has not been ordered by the customer but is put on the bill. This is not a sneaky way of separating you from your money. It is built into the pricing of most Japanese bars, and all Japanese customers expect it.
The original theory behind these snacks was that any order of food would take some time to be made, so the tsukidashi was a pre-prepared dish that would keep customers happy while they waited (this illustrates how important food is to drinking for many Japanese people). Nowadays, tsukidashi or otōshi are best regarded simply as a charge. In most places, it is going to cause more hassle than it is worth to attempt to refuse the dish.
From the point of view of foreigners who are unfamiliar with the practice, the fact that a dish is provided actually seems to cause more aggravation than if nothing were given at all. The misunderstanding most often occurs when customers find the otōshi on their bill, think it is a mistake because they did not order it and ask for the charge to be subtracted, only to be met with incomprehension and apparent defiance from their previously friendly hosts. Atsushi Horigami at Bar Zoetrope (page 190) says: “I had a Dutchman in here who got quite angry about it. He said I was a thief and threatened to call the police!”
One way to get one’s head around these charges, particularly relevant to drinkers from the United States, is to see them as substitutes for tips. It is not normal to tip in Japanese bars or restaurants. If you stay in a bar for any length of time, the 500–1,000 yen usually levied through the tsukidashi will often be equivalent to or less than what you might have paid the barman or waiter as a tip. You can always inquire on entering a bar how much the charge is: Tsukidashi wa oikura desu ka? (“How much is the tsukidashi?”).
Drinking in an unfamiliar environment can be hazardous. Sake is one of the world’s strongest brewed beverages and bars in Japan open later than in many other countries.
Credit cards
An increasing number of Japanese bars and restaurants now accept credit cards, but Japan is still very much a cash society. It is safest to assume that credit cards will not be taken. I have tried to indicate which bars do take cards in the guide, but I have not been able to give a detailed list of precisely which cards are accepted in each establishment. If you are planning to use a credit card, you really need to find out if you are going to be able to use it before ordering: Kono credit card wa daijōbu desu ka? (“Is this credit card OK?”)
Holidays
I have tried to provide accurate information on the opening hours of bars and on the days or periods when they will be closed. However, there are two times of year when almost all of Japan closes down: New Year (December 29–January 5; most businesses close between January 1–3) and Obon (middle of August, though some regions celebrate it in July). You can assume that most of the bars included in this guide will be shut for at least some days during these periods. I have not specified these holidays on every bar listing to avoid repetition, and also because the bars often change which particular days they take off from year to year.
To clarify the rather vague dates for Obon: the festival is held on the 13th to 15th day of the 7th month of the year. Unfortunately, the conversion from the old lunar calendar to the modern calendar is done differently in different areas and, since Obon is about returning to your family home, that means lots of people in the cities work on different timetables.