Food Fetish: Nikko, Yuba, and Localism in Japanese Junk Food

Towards the end of last week I spent a couple of days in Nikko, a nice relaxing solo trip.  I made a point of eating every variety of the local specialty, yuba, that I could get my hands on.  Yuba is made from the curd skimmed during the process of making soy milk, and is particularly associated with Nikko because it was a source of protein for the vegetarian yamabushi (mountain monks) that populated its famous shrines (and, in smaller numbers, still do).

It's more appetizing than it sounds, making this a tasty chance to trace an archetype of Japanese food localism.  In short, this localism is mostly a marketing strategy aimed at travelers that provides nominal variation while still keeping things comfortably familiar.  To wit:

A typical bowl of soba, you say? Not at all - it's yuba soba, transformed by those yellowish rolls.  This was the tastiest of the variations I tried, partly because it was eaten in a small restaurant at the end of a five-hour hike.

I'll Give You Something to Remember Like the Alamo.

I've been on a crude version of it for over a year now, but to celebrate the release of the book (and its treasure trove of new detailed tips), I'm renewing my commitment to Tim Ferris's 4 Hour Body/Slow Carb eating program.  Maybe I'll post more about that sometime, but today is my favorite part - the "eat whatever the hell you feel like" day.  I've had a crepe, two sodas, a donut, a Zats burger, a Snickers, and now, before I hit the sack, the piece de resistance - a grab bag of burgers from McDonald's.

Don't look at me like that.

Anyway, McDonald's Japan has just revived its "Big America" campaign, featuring four different regional flavors.  First up is the Texas Burger, and it's an unmitigated disaster.  (A few years ago this would have been predictable, but McDonald's food has been getting much better).  Sadly the Texas2 Burger is ruined by the Japanese influence.  Rather than Jalapenos, I think the spiciness comes mainly from horseradish mustard, the chili-esque substance slathered on it is nuclear red, and there's what is, I think, a piece of ham on it?  But it's supposed to be bacon?  I don't know.  But it does not even remotely remind me of home.

P.S. - Testing out some Amazon linking options here . . .