Hey guys here is a really cool review and amazing pictures from Scrambled Notes
“What better way to celebrate pay day than with dinner at Mooki noodle bar. The place is big news with the Durbs blog-o-sphere going mad for their refreshing menu + style. In fact it’s so popular that I ran into two super stars of the ND blog scene – the lovely Nicola of AskAshe & the button guru herself, Nadia from Cupcake Couture. Hello ladies!
Ok, now for the food stuff. For starters Gary & I both had the fish cakes – seriously the best fish cakes we’ve had anywhere in ages. The sesame shell was crunchy and all-sorts-of-yum and the fish was delicious, especially when dipped in the salty and spicy teriyaki sauce. For mains we went veg (well we’re pescatarians, it rules out chicken and pork) and I had the pad thai and mai fun noodles (they’re really thin and have a great nutty flavour) while Gary noshed the spicier ginger and red chilli sauce served on fat japanese udon noodles.
If i hadn’t eaten myself silly I would’ve tried the dessert – banana tempura with pickled ginger syrup – sounds seriously yum! Next time banana, next time. So yes, if you haven’t read it a million times by now, go to Mooki. Just go. Now.
PS – they do take away too, check out the menu here.”
Hope to see you two back again – soon!
When Anzai Yoshitoki finally found his voice, he ended a family tradition of silence that stretched back half a century.
For 11 years, Anzai, also affectionately known as “Mooki” by his family, due to his cherub like features, almost never left his room in his family’s home outside of Sapporo on Hokkaido, Japan’s huge northern island. “I was hikikomori,” Mooki explains, one of almost a million boys and young men in Japan who shut themselves away and withdraw from society. In Mookis’ case, he stopped going to school and retreated to his room after sustained episodes of vicious hazing and harassment by older students, a chronic problem in Japanese public schools.
But even before his own withdrawal when he was 14, Mooki had first-hand experience of what silence and isolation was like. “My grandfather was a Soviet prisoner of war until 1949. He was a very young soldier in the Japanese army in Manchuria towards the end of the Pacific War (World War II) and was a POW many years longer than he was a soldier.” He married when he returned and seemed OK. But while watching the Tokyo Olympics in 1964, he saw the Soviet Union flag carried by Russian athletes, and something snapped. He did not speak another word for 20 years.
When Mooki became hikikomori in 1991, he had no computer or Internet for amusement, only books and magazines that his parents would leave by his door, on a tray with his meals, and television. One day, his older sister put in front of his door a big box of her cast-off magnetic tape cassettes of 70’s and 80’s disco music, and some old recipe books. At night, Mooki’s family heard him dancing and singing along. Which gave his mother an idea. One New Year’s Day, his mother left a Yamaha keyboard outside his room. As a young boy, Mooki had learned to play the violin and recorder through the Suzuki method. Alone, he taught himself how to play the piano keyboard, using only the instruction manual. And Mookie started writing his own music. He credits the music with helping him gradually emerge from isolation in 2002, although he remains painfully shy. Since his emergence from self imposed isolation he began composing music at a ferocious rate, not to mention cooking up to five different recipes at a time from the old cook books which he had memorised by heart using an old Japanese technique called “Ayumu”. His Mother couldn’t believe that her child could cook such amazing noodles from long forgotten recipes, not to mention hold a great tune.
Some listeners describe Mooki’s music as retro, reminiscent of Giorgio Moroder, ABBA, Andy Gibb, Toto, Grandmaster Flash, Fatback, and Kool & The Gang. One reason may be because of the influence of his sister’s tape cassettes. “I played them over and over and over, and it started to bother my sister and my parents. Japanese houses have thin walls so even when I turned the volume down, it annoyed them. My sister slipped a note under the door that said, ‘I will buy you some current popular rock music if you will just please stop playing my old cassettes! I didn’t mind hearing those songs the first thousand times but I don’t like them anymore.’ The next day, there was a pair of headphones outside my door.
Then one day after his parents returned home from work, they found a steaming pot of noodles and a note to say that he had left home to explore the world, and especially Africa as it seemed so far away, and that he would pay his way by singing and cooking for people. because if his family enjoyed his talents so much he would have plenty of “Hofu” or appreciation from those who lived in far away places.