The glass jar of my coffee plunger broke in my move to Japan. That’s not technically accurate. It broke somehow between when I had a coffee that morning, washed it and put it away to when the Head Removalist came over to show me the jar had chipped and was now decorated by a long crack. I said “not a problem”.

Under the circumstances, this was the best response. There wasn’t much he could do about it, I figured I could buy another one pretty easily and really, what did it matter in the greater scheme of things?

After being without plunger coffee for almost five months, only one of these thoughts was correct.

I have hunted for that glass jar far and wide, from Sydney (albeit not as thoroughly as what I could have done but I was surprised that Victoria’s Basement didn’t have any) through to a good chunk of Tokyo and also Hong Kong.

To be clear, I haven’t been bereft of my weekend coffee at home. I do have an espresso which I also really enjoy using (mine whistles when most of the water has pushed through the coffee which is just as well as I have a knack of burning it otherwise). I just like to have my plunger out with me on my balcony while I’m eating my croissant, the coffee aroma teasing my nostrils, I plunge as my croissant is half-way through and pour into one of my cheery cups.

Life is good.

The last five months though, I’ve been alternating between espresso and tea. Clearly they are not the same and while each definitely has a place in my life, I have missed plunged coffee. A lot.

Today I decided on an all out assault to find the glass.

I went to Kitchen Town.

A massive chef’s head on one side of Kappabashi Street and an equally large stack of coffee cups as balconies on a building on the other side meant that I was in the right place.

Surely the place where chefs, restauranteurs and domestic gods/goddesses go to shop would have my glass jar. Surely…

Thankfully I went on Sunday when three quarters of the shops were closed. This would ordinarily be a bad thing but the choices in the quarter that were open were still overwhelming. I didn’t even go to all the stores.

The street has grown to roughly 170 shops, since its trading beginnings in 1912, to now sell:

• fake food – for those displays so we can all decide what we want to eat
• crockery, cutlery and glassware for every occasion
• very, very sharp knives
• bento boxes
• chopsticks – that shouldn’t be a surprise
• lanterns, flags, cork boards, menu holders
• enough sake glasses to never get bored in having to drink from the same style one twice. In a lifetime
• fresh coffee
• coffee machines, gadgetry and all manner of appliances
• cake and pastry decorating bits and pieces (for someone that has a pastry chef in the family, you’d think I’d know what these are called. Let’s just call them silicon moulds in every imaginable shape, those icing bag things and nozzles for those that pipe out some intricate designs)
• ovens
• pasta making gadgets
• pots and pans in every size known to man (apparently it fits a whole pig)
• outdoor cooking appliances and seating

And then some…

After three hours of walking through stores on both sides of the street, I’ve bought:

• some really cute dog chopstick holders
• two gadgets that hold plastic bags open so I can use them for two of my rubbish piles (recycling and throwing things away here is still something I’m trying to figure out)
• miso soup cup – I have enough time to perfect making this as well as learning to ski
• a ceramic butter dish – I’ve wanted one of these for quite a while now
• a bright pink butter knife and a bright pink spoon – both are designed to warm what I’m cutting / spooning (e.g. butter, ice-cream) to make it a bit easier. The colour caught my eye and will make me smile every time I use them. That and the ease that those two tasks will now have, I’ll be grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat.
• coffee plunger – a whole one, not just the glass

* Thanks to Ratcat for the title to this post. A bit of Australian old school indie music today… 

Kappa – the mythical creature that’s name sounds like “raincoat” which is likely what the street was really named or the guy that funded a project to build a local river to help with water management. All good reasons…