Park Hyatt Tokyo Take 2

Park Hyatt is the Hyatt brand’s most luxurious line of hotels. There are Park Hyatt hotels all over the world but one of the finest and surely the most famous – thanks to Sofia Coppola’s feature film Lost In Translation – is the Park Hyatt Tokyo. The Park Hyatt Tokyo occupies the top fourteen floors of one of the city’s tallest skyscrapers, Shinjuku Park Tower in Shinjuku, Tokyo. This hotel features a spa and enclosed rooftop pool, three world famous restaurants, two bars, and the best bird’s eye views of the city that one could hope for.


The Park Hyatt Tokyo’s website describes Girandole, one of the hotel’s three restaurants, as “simple, delicious fare that is satisfyingly authentic.” Girandole is the classic French brasserie on the forty-first floor of the Park Hyatt Tokyo. The description of the food is very true but the wonderful thing about this hotel is that those words could be used to describe any number of amenities at the Park Hyatt Tokyo.


The word “simple” could easily describe the modern design of the rooms and corridors of the hotel. In fact, the interior design of the Park Hyatt Tokyo seems to highlight and celebrate simple shapes. Upon stepping out of the quiet – and fast – elevators one finds him or herself on the forty-first floor and in the first of three enormous, cloud piercing, glass pyramids. Walking towards the reception area one passes through a wide hallway and by a circular stairwell so grand and deep that it gives the effect of looking down the center of a giant outstretched slinky; the light gradating in and out at each level. After reception there is the library and another geometric engagement. The rows and rows of yellow lit, long and tall rectangular shelves have a romance about them that seems so human despite the perfect symmetry of straight lines and right angles. After the triangles, spirals, and perfect squares there’s another set of elevators that are just as quiet and as fast.


But even more than simple and refined, the pull of this hotel is that it is “satisfyingly authentic.” Upon pulling into the hotel’s grand driveway and again at reception, guests are greeted by proper name and in the language of their origin – a custom that is common among elite hotels. But at the Park Hyatt Tokyo, they take this experience of being personally welcomed a step further and will be sure to know if there are any holidays of importance coming up for their guests. For example, if a guest is celebrating a birthday or anniversary he or she will be greeted with a traditional Japanese bow and a fragrant bouquet delivered by an impeccably dressed geisha upon arrival. And after a few days at the Park Hyatt Tokyo, one realizes that to stay at this hotel is to stay at a place that is truly “simple” while also “delicious” and yet “satisfyingly authentic.”

Park Hyatt Tokyo

Trying to decide what to eat for lunch is tough. I’m almost never satisfied. The options in Time’s Square are generally atrocious. Jamba Juice is giving away free chai tea lattes today, so, there’s that. Not really a meal though; and definitely not a satisfying one.

Daydreaming about what to eat, I often think of a few of the best meals that I’ve had. For lunch, I’d have to say that the happiest midday meal that I can remember was brunch in the Park Hyatt Tokyo’s French brasserie, Girandole. The hotel’s website describes the food there as “simple, delicious fare that is satisfyingly authentic.” I couldn’t have put it any better.


But those words could be used to describe any number of amenities at the Park Hyatt Tokyo. Simple: The modern design of the rooms and corridors of the hotel seem to highlight and celebrate simple shapes. Upon stepping out of the quiet (and really fast!) elevators you are on the forty-first floor and in the first of three enormous glass pyramids.


Walking towards the reception area you pass through a wide hallway and by a circular stairwell so grand and deep if gives the effect of looking down the center of an enormous outstretched slinky; the light gradating in and out at each level.


After reception there is the library and another geometric engagement. The rows and rows of yellow lit, long and tall rectangular shelves have a romance about them that seems so human. After the triangles, spirals, and perfect squares there’s another set of elevators that are just as quiet and fast.


But even more than simple and refined, the pull of this hotel is that it is “satisfyingly authentic.” During our time in Tokyo, my boyfriend and I bought two very special bicycle frames, one for each of us. Being old but very well kept – mine was made by hand twenty-five years ago and still has the original paint – we wanted to wrap them up really well before checking them onto the plane home. We explained this to the gracious receptionist and without question were given yards and yards of bubble wrap and a new roll of packaging tape. Back in our room, buried in bubble wrap, we realized that we needed a pair of scissors too. A quick phone call, “Hello, how may I help you, Ms. Cizewski?” and less then five minutes later there was a knock on our door. I opened it, “Oh thank you,” and took the pair of scissors from her outstretched hands. “It is my pleasure,” she said slowly as she lowered her hands and bowed her head in traditional Japanese form. “Thank you,” I said again, this time really appreciating the exchange. I closed the door and returned to wrapping my bike frame like a mummy.

Tokyo

Last spring my boyfriend and I went to Tokyo to visit a good friend, to see some sites, and to pick up a couple of track bikes. While we were there I ate some kick-ass tempura, learned the great value of order and obedience, watched the sun rise over the city three days in a row, visited the Makino factory, and fell asleep at the dinner table, among other things.

This is Punch Cycles. It was the first bike shop we went to and the only bike shop that we went back to. It's where my 3Rensho and my boyfirend's Nagasawa are from. His Nagasawa is shown below in the misty rain.




The rain in Tokyo is like the rain in Seattle. You can feel it in your hair and under your skin but you don't see it coming down, it's just there and has always been there. I guess the rain is one of those things that lives forever. This man was in good company carrying an umbrella on his bicycle.

The rain as seen through the windows on the fifty-second floor had the effect of looking into an aquarium; I would not have been surprised if a manatee or a killer whale swam by. The waiters certainly had a bit of the killer whale look about them.

Another ocean like scene. This time at the goth club.

Later that week the rain subsided and the thigh highs came out. Also, many umbrellas were discarded in neat bundles, shown below.



We had the most fun visiting the guys and gals at W-Base. When the two guys in the shop found out we came from New York they yelled, in unison, BROOKLYN!


Harajuku, love her.

Look at those gold 3Renshos! Unfortunately they were not for sale. We found out that a lot of bike shops in Tokyo have gold frames that are not for sale. They have them for good luck.



These last three photos are of the chefs and owners of the best tempura restaurant in Roppongi, the Prada space ship flag ship, and the pool at the Park Hyatt. Three of my favorite places.

Best Thing I Ever Ate

I just ate a little sliver of cake from the Cake Boss. I have always thought of the Cake Boss as the poor man’s Duff and now I have decided that that is true.

At the time that I was eating the bit of cake I didn’t know where it had come from. A co-worker offered me a piece and when I politely declined explaining that I am on a diet, he offered instead the tiniest sliver of a fraction of the former piece over the cubical wall and I couldn’t refuse him. It is an itty bitty piece and it is Friday I thought. By the way, this type of thinking is why dieting does not work. I can rationalize almost anything. So I ate the sliver and enjoyed it, being careful not to eat any of the vanilla frosting hugging the edges of the chocolate and vanilla cake. I don’t like vanilla frosting. It gives me a head ache. After disposing of the icky cake topping I inquired into the origin of the gateaux. The Cake Boss, you say? Well I would have expected more from him and his confectionary mafia. It was light, but not quite fluffy. The chocolate was rich, but had no depth. And the frosting, well, I know I’m not the best judge since I almost always hate frosting but this time was clearly no exception.

However, for some reason I think that I might like Duff’s Charm City frosting. That's Duff with his homies on the left.

All and all I was disappointed in the Boss but writing about this now is making me think of two of the best things I ever ate.

The first Best Think I Ever Ate occurred a couple of years ago when I was in pastry school. It was at the end of a lesson half way through Level I and a few students from Level III came down to our classroom with their night’s lesson. They placed the white ramekins on chef’s table and left just as casually as they had arrived. Someone produced a bunch of tasting spoons and chef invited us all to come over and taste the soufflés. There was no resistance as I stuck my spoon into the raspberry soufflé closest to me; it had the density of the air around it. In my mouth it was the same, barely there. Only the warmth of the oven upstairs and the flavor of raspberries and sugar in my mouth proved to me that I was in fact eating. To say it melted in my mouth presupposes that I ever even felt it in my mouth. The experience was completely new and absolutely addictive. I took another bite. And another. And another.

The second Best Thing I ever Ate occurred on my twenty-fifth birthday. I was in Tokyo at the New York Grill on the fifty-second floor of the Park Hyatt there. I ordered the pan seared scallops and they arrived all lined up as if preparing to jump off the plate. Perfectly seasoned and feathered with mache; they tasted like they had been plucked from the half shell of Venus herself. Here is a picture of them, pre-jump: