So before I continue with entries about my time in Japan, I want to say that I ate cow’s heart last night. This in itself is not such a bad thing, as I did—for about 4 hours or so—gain all the powers of a cow…as one might expect from eating an animal’s heart. Granted, the common cow does not have many strengths, but it sure beat that time I ate that artichoke heart *rimshot.* Anyway, my life-force consuming night ended anticlimactically with me falling asleep standing up, and my friends tipping me. Not funny, guys.

The disturbing part of it all is not that I actually ate heart, nor that it was frying in the collective juices of intestine and stomach (not a joke), but rather that I unintentionally ate it thinking it was a large slab of liver…and that this seemed perfectly normal to me.

Many foreigners with an interest in Japan feel that they know what Japanese cuisine consists of previous to coming to Japan. Food is, after all, the second most important aspect of any culture (the first being facial hair). Those interested in Japan and the Japanese diet go from the initial stage of cultural ignorance: (i)“So, they all eat rice in China, right?…oops, I mean Japan;” to the culturally aware stage: (ii)“Ugh, fish?!;” to the culturally tolerant: (iii)“Eww, RAW fish?!;” to the cultural assimilation stage: (iv)“Yeah, I LOVE sushi (California Rolls);” to finally actually living in Japan: (v)“What the [expletive deleted]! You sick mother[expletive deleted]!.”