International Food and Beverage Exhibition

Today, I am at Makuhari Messe Convention Centre for Foodex Japan. In its 40th year, the event stands as the biggest trade show for food and beverage in Asia, featuring three thousand exhibitors from seventy-nine different countries. I received a private invitation, allowing me to hand over a business card at the entrance and receive my journalist pass, thus saving me the ¥5000 public entry fee. The first challenge I encounter at the event is their strict no-photography policy. They even threaten ejection from the event for anyone caught taking photographs, sneaking in animals, or attending solely for free food and drink.

Naturally, I adhere strictly to the rules, refraining from releasing any concealed animals into the exhibition halls or taking sneaky snaps of the event from a balcony above. And, of course, my primary purpose for attending is certainly not to indulge in the free samples of food and drink offered by the three thousand exhibitors. Today, all food and drink are complimentary, with stallholders actively encouraging me to sample their offerings.

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I start with cheese. I seldom eat cheese in Japan, so when given the opportunity to be an official judge in a packaging and taste competition, I seize the chance. The competition involves comparing thirty-one cheeses from Japan. Just as I’m about to get serious about my judging responsibilities, the comedian in charge reminds me to take it seriously before asking me to select a wooden stick from a box. “Careful for electric shocks,” the man says, “this is high technology, like a supercomputer.” So much for taking things too seriously.

The cheese I have randomly selected is a Brazilian cream cheese made in Japan. I assess the packaging (somewhat basic) and evaluate the unique selling point of the product (non-existent). Next, I can choose any two other cheeses to rate in comparison. I opt for two cheeses that I’m eager to try. Following the rating, a taste test ensues, providing me with the opportunity to score the flavour and determine the likelihood of a future purchase. Interestingly, the cheese I selected, which appears to be the most expensive among the thirty-one, turns out to be the worst cheese I have ever tried.

After savouring the cheese, I crave a drink, prompting me to head for a cup of tea.

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Unfortunately, the Yogi Tea stand offers their sample in the form of a tea bag. No hot water here. I have a chat with Sada-Anand Khalsa, a self proclaimed Yogi Tea Ambassador. His beard is better than mine, and his tea is apparently very wonderful. As I talk to him, he appears distracted, distant, and looks like he is about to fall off his stool. He’s probably had a few too many cups of his bedtime organic tea product, no doubt.

I continue exploring the red-carpeted route, treating myself to devil fruits and açaí berry smoothies. In Pakistan, I’m given the chance to try six-billion-year-old sea salt, and in Egypt, I indulge in some tasty salted peanuts. Upon reaching Japan, I find myself surrounded by microphones and cameras, as I become the subject of a television show—quite ironic, considering the event’s no photography or recording equipment policy. During the interview, I’m asked to sample Japanese food to capture my authentic reaction. However, they choose edamame, a dish I consume almost weekly, making it challenging for me to convey a genuine response to the familiar taste of beans.

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After the interview, I head to England to enjoy a scone. However, I notice that the stalls here are manned by individuals with uninviting expressions and disappointed faces. Unlike everywhere else I’ve stopped, where warm smiles and polite conversation welcomed me, it’s a different experience in England. Disheartened, I make the decision to leave and never return. Instead, I choose to visit the friendly land of Scotland for some delectable scallops. Later, I make my way to the welcoming Wales to enjoy a sample of a beer I’m already familiar with—Dark Side of the Moose.

In Austria, I take a moment to chat with a friendly man about beer. The Flying Brewery proves to be wonderful and charming. After expressing a clear interest in sampling copious amounts of their free alcohol, the amiable man turns to his colleague and exclaims, “He wants to try them all!” This marks perhaps the turning point in my day, leading me into the delightful world of free alcohol. The beers here are fantastic, and I relish each and every one. The brewery even gifts me a set of twelve coasters and poses for a photograph. While a part of me considers that the journalist pass around my neck might have influenced their hospitality, another part of me believes that they are genuinely kind and passionate about their craft.

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With an ever-increasing thirst for beer, I head over to the only place that can satisfy my taste: Belgium. After wandering around in beer heaven for about an hour and sampling familiar delights such as Stella Artois and Hoegaarden, I move on to some of my favourite drinks—Delirium Tremens, Kriek, and Chimay.
“One more glass, sir?” says the man at the Chimay stand.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I reply, feeling very humbled and slightly drunk.

I continue to explore, observing snakes in bottles of miscellaneous liquid and engaging with companies solely present at the event to secure a Japanese distributor. After a bit of stumbling, I find myself in Mexico, enticed by amusingly shaped bottles of expensive tequila.

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AsomBroso is a luxury tequila from Tequila, Mexico, and one bottle costs around ¥7000. After sampling a small glass, I strike up a conversation with the friendly man manning the booth. A simple mention of the word ‘journalist’ earns me a second glass and an invitation to take a photograph of his display. The tequila is, in fact, the best I have ever tasted—good quality stuff.

In Finland, I chat with a nice lady about the health benefits of bilberry. In Indonesia, I indulge in fresh tuna sashimi. Thailand offers me samples of multiple hot sauces served with various delicious canapés. However, my favourite dish of the day comes from Malaysia—shrimp noodles in a spicy sauce broth that comes with a strong warning: ‘Extremely hot, eat carefully and very slowly.’ As I wander through multiple stores offering sweets, dried fruits, organic chocolate, and health products, I somehow take a wrong turn and end up in Australia. Unfortunately, there’s no attention from the yawning people here, no free samples, only misery.

Finally, I explore what China has to offer. I am surprised by the contrast between China and Australia; the politeness expressed by the people here at such a late time in the day, and the complete lack of yawning and misery is a big surprise to me. Everyone wants to speak to me, everyone is friendly, and of course, everyone wants me to try their products. One store I particularly enjoyed was Shantou Sweet House Foodstuff.

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This Chinese confectioner offers many interestingly named products, such as Brain Licker, Nipple Lipstick Tooth Candy, and Plastic Fruity Sour Sour Stick. “Wait here for a moment,” says the stallholder, following our long conversation about sugar. He returns with a huge bag of sweets, including strawberry-flavoured popping candy that comes with two free stickers.

Leaving China, it feels like I’ve just been on a six-hour tour around the whole world. I exit the event and take the free shuttle bus over to Kaihin-Makuhari Station. For some reason, a woman in the train station hands me a free sample of a doughnut. Free samples are the last thing I can enjoy right now; food is the very last thing on my mind.

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Back at home, as I empty out my full pockets of the many free gifts and brochures, it reminds me of a lost childhood memory of Halloween. I still have an awful lot more food to eat, but I can’t really complain. I enjoyed the event, the food, the beverages, on what has been quite a wonderful day in Chiba.

The Fat Sumo Halloween Special

My day begins with me being completely lost in Shinjuku, searching for an event called ‘Shinjuku Magic of Halloween.’ I was under the impression that the event starts with a massive street parade of people dressed in spooky costumes, but nothing of the sort appears to be happening. I give up searching and head back to the train station.

Outside Shinjuku Station, a television crew and a few people dressed up are standing in front of a big stage. With over two hundred entrances to the station, I have inadvertently stumbled upon the event I was here to see in the first place; and by the looks of it, the show is just about to start. Excellent timing as always. The lights come up, white smoke bellows from machines on either side of the stage, and the band comes out, much to the delight of the ghosts, witches, and Iron Man.

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Today, I get the pleasure of seeing Anna Tsuchiya singing live. The former Kamikaze Girls actress-turned-model-turned-singer is simply amazing. I am about six rows from the front of the stage and have a great view. The music is great. The atmosphere is great. The weather is great. Anna sings two songs about Halloween in English before contractually mentioning the video game Psycho Break, the sponsor for the event.

For the third and final song, we get a little bit more from the smoke machines, and Anna sings her third single and first top-ten hit, ‘Rose’.

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After singing, she thanks the crowd, and the band leaves the stage. One minute later, the entire crowd has dispersed, and I am the only one standing at the stage. So much for the Halloween parade. I follow the rest of the crowd into the train station and head back to Minowa.

The day is still warm, so I decide on a mid-afternoon bicycle ride. I cycle over the Sumida River in a straight line for ninety minutes, stopping off at the odd shrine or temple along the way. Eventually, I arrive at the Arakawa River and cross over into Edogawa. I haven’t been here before today, and I can’t find anything to do. I cycle around for a while until the sun begins to set.

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After watching the sun from the bridge, it starts to cool down, so I race back to Asakusa.

Tonight, I have been invited to a party celebrating the one-year anniversary of a sumo restaurant. I have things to do first, though, so I arrive rather late; everyone is already drunk. Blind drunk. A few of my friends from the boat party are here too, and they are struggling to stand. A never-ending supply of glasses filled with a suspicious green liquid seems to be appearing from nowhere, and the familiar drinking chant of, “Yoi yoi yoisho,” makes its rounds. A sumo wrestler consumes a giant bottle of tequila in one go.

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My masseur is here too; he tells me that my shoulders were the hardest he has ever had to massage in his entire career. Or at least I think that’s what he said; his slurs are somewhat difficult to decipher. I join in with the proceedings, enjoying the all-you-can-drink spread put on by the owner. Karaoke ends just as quickly as it starts, and bottles of spirits are passed around. I stay, drinking until I am dizzy, before deciding it is time to go home. As I leave, I am handed a gift bag filled with lovely souvenirs to go with my memories.