Slaying buffets in FUK

Sometime during the three years I lived in Fukuoka prefecture, I developed a crippling addiction to 食べ放題／バイキング ("tabehoudai/Viking," aka all you can eat) restaurants and deals. In true "vampire the buffet slayer" form we would descend upon these establishments, populated mostly by slim Japanese women, and put them out of business. Unlike CiCi's Pizza and the Golden Corral, there is little shame in slaying Japanese buffets because even though you're eating the same amount of calories, they're coming from tasty gourmet food made on premises, often from locally grown and fresh ingredients. It also helps that the places tend to be decorated impeccably and the clients do not appear to have compulsive overeating disorders. I gotta say, one of the toughest culture shocks I've faced upon coming home was acceptance of the fact that I will only get to slay nice buffets at weddings and hotels.

During my time in Fukuoka I submitted "Top Five" articles every month to "The Refill," a newsletter put out by some other English teachers in the area. "The Refill" itself is of food-centric origin. From its website:

"As you may know, Fukuoka is famous for a soup noodle dish called ramen (this might be an understatement). There are many ways to make a bowl of ramen your own: a dash of this, a splash of that, or a side of those. But ramen stores in Fukuoka offer another option: a second helping of delicious noodles, called kaedama. This lets happy patrons refill their bowls with noodles, extending the life of the broth. This parallels the purpose of The Refill: Filling you in about the Fukuoka community and providing insight into life in Japan."

By far my best (and most heartfelt!) Refill article was "All You Can Eat Buffets," which was published in the spring edition. Screencap and link are below.

Top 5: All You Can Eat Buffets

More Ham

The first time I ever strung two words together to form a cohesive thought, I said "more ham." First words from the mouths of babes can mean jack shit, or they can provide insight into the future of the lifetime of the babe in question. In my case, I grew to be unpleasantly (thankfully not too severely) roly-poly at a young age, loathing exercise in favor of fettucine Alfredo and multiple bowls of Reeses Peanut Butter Puffs cereal. Eating, not necessarily food, has always been my favorite pastime, and I have always had elephantiasis of the appetite. As a vain young adult I must keep my weight below the "fat point" and input a healthy variety of macronutrients, but "more ham" is always there lurking.

Two days ago, I went on a date. We got beer and two dozen chicken wings - Buffalo Hot, BBQ, Chipotle BBQ, and Garlic Parmesan. I could have easily slaughtered all those wings myself, but I pretended to be full after seven or eight since I noticed he was slowing down. Sure enough, when I asked "how many wings could you eat if you were competing?" he said "Probably ten." The night before, I'd gone out for wing fries (shoestring fries soaked in hot wing sauce and bleu cheese) with someone who once ate 67 hot wings in a competition. Not all men are created equal.