Drinking in Japan: Icy Balls
We were on a mission.
Of course, there are so many amazing things to see in Japan that it might seem silly that one of our goals would be finding a carved ball of ice to soak in our whiskey. But we are drinkers, worshippers of all things boozy, so our Japanese carved ice ball obsession (which started here) shouldn’t be all that strange to you, really.
You see, our Asian friends love Scotch, so much so that they actually have been distilling it themselves since the late 19th Century. Now, it can’t be called Scotch in Japan, it’s ‘whiskey’, but several of them have won head to head contests with traditional Scotch and Japanese whiskey is made in the same style. That’s the Japanese for you: take an idea, and make it just as good if not better than the original. Have you seen a Japanese toilet? We rest our case.
The idea behind a ball of ice, in a word, is surface area. “On the rocks” is a widely accepted way to drink whiskey, and yet your whiskey will water down if you sip instead of slam it if it percolates in ice. It’s just physics. But the Japanese figured out a way around this, which is a large chunk of ice that has less surface area with the same cooling power.
It was this revelation that led us to buy an ice mold from the MOMA store online, at the suggestion of a review we read on the subject. Honestly though, the mold isn’t user friendly, and the balls tend to break (sorry). Molds made of silicone from a Japanese store called MUJI were touted the best everywhere we looked…except how does one attain these? An unsuccessful attempt to find online resulted in dejection and heartbreak. However, with the trip to Japan looming, hope was on the horizon.
Which brings us to now. We had our mission: to find Japanese ice ball molds while in Japan, AND find a bartender willing to indulge us and carve one live. Given our fluency in Japanese (read: none) we were having difficulty navigating the streets of Tokyo effectively, and a MUJI eluded us entirely, even though (we swear) we saw every street there was. In fact, we had all but given up until one afternoon while wandering the streets of Osaka, when it appeared like a mirage. We imagine the good citizens around us were baffled as we jumped up and down and screamed like 12 year olds, but hey, we’re Americans and everyone is under the impression that we have mental disorders anyway, so what’s a little more fuel for the fire?
We ran in, baskets in hand, combing the floors of our Mecca. No ice molds to be found. What?? We were baffled. How is this possible? After the shock wore off, we considered our options. One: give up, and get an afternoon sake to drown the sorrows, or Two: one last try on the housewares floor, THEN get some sake… in triumph OR defeat. We trudged back up to housewares skeptically, scanning the aisles once more. There, just below the square, fish, and heart-shaped ice cube trays, was our holy grail. Like little sno-cones, round spheres of silicone in non-descript, completely-in-Japanese packing. BarFly snatched it up and held it up like a trophy. We shrieked a second time, and proceeded to buy ten… just in case.
The mission didn’t stop there. Still glowing from our MUJI triumph, we donned our heels that night and went out in search of a willing bartender to complete our quest. In retrospect, we probably shouldn’t have assumed that every bartender in Japan was ready to whip one out, but we hit bar after bar in hopes of that very thing. After hitting several dead ends, we decided a big fancy hotel (which shall remain unnamed) would be our Hail Mary. One very expensive cab ride later and we found ourselves alas, with no spherical ice but with very small, very pricey drinks over boring old ice. Harumphh.
As we savored our tiny drinks, and hatched a new plan. We had read online that a place called the 4 Gats might be the end of our quest. With no internet and unreadable phone books, we couldn’t triangulate the location, and given our lack of success with finding hotels, MUJI, or anything else in Japan, we had given up on having an address as a means of locating anything. However, this big fancy hotel did have something we hadn’t had before: a concierge. He was a surprised as we were when he announced “I found it!”, quickly printing directions as we paced about, then tucking us in a cab.
Like many bars in Japan, ours was on the 5th floor of what looked like an apartment complex. They can’t build out, so they build up, people. And there is was, the 4 Gats. Or 4 Cats? Turns out the name 4 Gats is a cross between Cats and Gatos, both names of cats in languages other than Japanese. Appropriately, there are 4 cats painted on the walls of the place, which would only would fit about 8 at the bar. Three locals occupied seats, and a French film was playing out on the white wall behind the back bar. We liked it immediately, even though the bartender professed that he knew no English the moment we entered.
We had been ordering whiskey on the “rock” all night just to see if it would produce a ball, so it was one for the ditch as we ordered a Japanese whiskey, and let him pick what kind. The result: a 12 year old Hakushu, and sure enough, an ice ball was swimming in it! We had to drink three before we had the courage to ask him to make us one, which involved a lot of pointing and chopping motions, but the man obliged. (don’t worry – we got pictures) It was a thing of beauty, the surface looked a bit like an almond, and did what it promised. The men at the bar laughed at us through curling trails of cigarette smoke, but we were beyond caring.
After a few Hakushu’s we of the 4 Gats were all fast friends as we stumbled over the language barrier and shared some take-out Yakitori. And after we exchanged business cards and hugged our goodbyes, we shuffled home two happy, tipsy imbibers.
Didn’t retain the bartenders name, but you can see him work his magic here. The 4 Gats you can find in Osaka. Tell ‘em DrinkGal sent ya. Oh, and the molds? You can buy them on the new MUJI U.S. store… online. No jet lag required.
Mission accomplished. We are headed home…
Campai!
