They make cute decorations in your office or home, but have you thought to eat them? For this festive side dish that would be perfect for Halloween or Thanksgiving, we used “Jack Be Little” pumpkins grown at Mariquita Farm in Watsonville, CA. Their flesh was so sweet and flavorful. Dressed up with butter, maple syrup, cardamom, and orange juice, they were the perfect thing to eat after a day at the pumpkin patch.
One of these things is not like the other … The pumpkin on the far left is a “Sugar Pie” pumpkin. We roasted one of these as well, but the flavor wasn’t as sweet as the four Jack Be Little pumpkins.
Roasted Jack Be Little Pumpkins:
1 Jack Be Little Pumpkin (or Sugar Pie Pumpkin) per person butter
maple syrup orange juice
cardamom
coarse salt & pepper
Cut the tops off the pumpkins as you would a jack-o-lantern. Using a metal spoon, remove the seeds and scrape out the fibers. Place the pumpkins on a baking sheet or in a pie pan.
In the bottom of each pumpkin, place a small pad of butter. Then add some maple syrup, a splash of orange juice, a sprinkle of cardamom, and some coarse salt & pepper. Put the tops back on the pumpkins.
The pumpkins can bake in a 350 to 400 degree oven (depending on the temperature of whatever is roasting with them). Just stick them in the oven alongside your main dish. We baked ours at 400 degrees next to a chicken. Roast for about 40 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the pumpkins slides through easily. Remove the pumpkin tops just before eating and scoop out the tasty flesh with a spoon!
We enjoyed our Jack Be Little pumpkins with a roasted chicken, and sautéed brussel sprouts that we bought at the pumpkin patch in Davenport.
Note: If you happen to have leftover pumpkins, scoop out the seasoned flesh and use it in your favorite fall baked goods in place of canned pumpkin (or you can freeze it for later).
After you’ve wound your way along the beautiful Highway 1 coastline, past the cabins grouped together called “resorts,” motels, general stores, and the ranger station, is the charming Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant. So many delectable things come out of their wood burning oven at this simple, rustic, Big Sur gem. This is what my mom and I consumed during our 24-hour food pilgrimage:
Dinner:
selection of breads with butter and salt
wood roasted quail, micro greens, roasted red peppers, mushrooms, and vinaigrette
mache lettuce, apples, goat cheese, walnuts, and apple cider cinnamon vinaigrette
butter-braised line-caught california sea bass
succotash of fava beans, butter beans, peas, corn, baby green beans, and fingerling potatoes
pizza of carmelized onion, figs, goat cheese, and arugula
lemon steamed pudding, huckleberries, and lemon verbena sauce
Melville 2007 pinot noir
Although we could have eaten outside on the deck in uncomfortable metal chairs, we were drawn to the coziness of the inside, which was softly illuminated by candles. Seated next to us was a table of bearded men who looked like lumberjacks. Presented with our menus (single sheets of paper attached to clipboards), we chose a beverage – two pints of Anchor Steam, brewed just up the coast in San Francisco. We also ordered a plate of mixed olives in olive oil because it seemed like the right thing to do.
We had just begun to sip the foam off the top of our beers, when a small cutting board arrived with four kinds of bread from their wood burning oven – pumpkin, asiago cheese, multi-grain, and one that we think was sourdough. Next to the pile of bread slices on the cutting board was a small cup of unsalted butter and a beautiful pile of salt crystals. It was too dim in the room to see, but when I lifted my salted bread up to the candle, I could see specks of orange and gray. It was fun to take a pinch of salt and season our bread as we ate. Along with the olives, we probably could have left after that and been satisfied.
Our salads arrived on huge plates. My roasted quail was so crispy and flavorful like bacon, and just barely wilted the micro greens beneath it. The roasted red peppers and mushrooms were a perfect earthy match to the quail and the vinaigrette with a hint of sweetness. My mom’s salad tasted like the epitome of fall with apples, walnuts, goat cheese, bundles of mache lettuce and an unforgettable apple cider-cinnamon vinaigrette. By this time we had scoured the extensive wine list and decided to go with a pinot noir that was so smooth and delicious, it paired with everything we ate.
My wood-fired pizza was an appealing purple (figs), white (goat cheese) and green (arugula). Underneath everything was a thin layer of caramelized onions. It was so good I didn’t miss tomato sauce or mozzarella. My mom’s butter braised sea bass was so simple and delicate. Beforehand we had selected which veggie dish to accompany the entree. The succotash turned out to be the perfect choice – a medley of beans, corn, peas and tiny potatoes.
After I had asked for the rest of my pizza to be wrapped up, the dessert menus arrived, which of course we couldn’t turn down. The steamed lemon pudding was nice and light. The huckleberries and lemon verbena sauce made it even better. Two glasses of really good champagne ended our almost-3-hour meal.
I guess we couldn’t get enough the night before. Or maybe it was because we wanted to get out of our “charming” little cabin as soon as possible, but we were back the next morning for our coffee and breakfast to fuel us for our hike.
Breakfast:
roasted asparagus quiche with asiago cheese
ricotta-apricot jam danish
house-made donut, donut hole included
freshly brewed coffee
The quiche was quite possibly the best quiche we had ever tasted. The crust was so flaky, and the inside was so rich, made with fresh eggs from TLC Ranch in Watsonville, California. I never thought asparagus could be so good for breakfast. The danish was light and flaky, with the perfect thin layer of ricotta and jam. Donuts are always hard to turn down, but when they’re made by the Big Sur Bakery, they’re even harder. Needless to say, we definitely had enough fuel for our hike to the ocean and through the redwood trees, still recovering from the fire that swept through them earlier in the year.
Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant Reservations: 831.667.0520 Highway One
Big Sur, California 93920
Now that it’s fall, I’m craving the taste of cinnamon. Snickerdoodles are Dustin’s favorite cookie. Since today was his first day at his new job (YEA!) I decided to make these to congratulate him! It’s also important to note that these are the first cookies that I’ve baked in my new kitchen in Santa Cruz, using my wedding gift bowls, cookie sheets, and utensils! And you may remember my little Japanese oven from before. Now I’m almost overwhelmed by the size of American ovens!
Snickerdoodles:
(From an old Holiday Martha Stewart Magazine that’s been laying around – except I always use salted butter)
Last weekend my family and I made piroshki–a recipe that’s been passed down from my Mom’s Russian side of the family. My brother and I have always loved making this meal. It generally takes 3 people. Mom was always the “roller,” rolling the dough to the perfect thin, oval shape. One of us was the “filler,” placing a few spoonfuls of meat-and-egg filling on the flattened dough, and the other was the “pincher,” making sure the piroshki was ready to hit the oil. Of course when we were small, our Mom handled the frying. Even today we still get really excited about making and eating piroshki. And there is no better accompaniment than slathering on some dijon mustard. We also made a simple roasted beet salad dressed with some olive oil, vinegar, and mustard.
Last but not least, we enjoyed some of my brother Lars’ home-brewed beer with this meal! It was his first batch and it came out extraordinarily tasty – a medium bodied light amber ale, with a balanced, moderate hop bitterness. Scroll down for the picture if you’re thirsty now.
For the Piroshki Dough:
1 cup warm milk 1/4 lb. melted butter 2 eggs 2 packages yeast 1/2 tsp. salt flour
Melt the butter. Add the milk and stir together. When the mixture has cooled down a bit, add the yeast. Next add the eggs and salt and combine. Lastly, add flour a cup at a time until the dough reaches a good consistency. Knead on floured surface, form into a ball, and place in a bowl. Cover with a towel. Let rise once.
For the Filling:
*The measurements aren’t particularly precise, just like any trusted family recipe that’s been passed down. Taste and adjust to your liking:
ground beef
garlic, minced dash of soy sauce dash of Worcestershire sauce hard boiled eggs, chopped green onion, chopped fresh parsley, chopped salt & pepper
In a large skillet, brown the ground beef. Add the garlic, and the remaining ingredients and stir together. Allow to cool.
When the dough has risen, grab a piece and roll it so it’s a thin oval like this.
Spoon some of the filling down the center of the oval. (Don’t over-stuff or you won’t be able to pinch it closed).
Bring both sides of the oval up and pinch together, enclosing the filling.
Heat oil in fryer to 350 degrees.
In batches, fry the piroshki. Tongs are needed to keep them from rolling around.
Flip piroshki when they’re golden on one side, and do the same on the other side.
Drain on paper towels.
Serve with dijon mustard, beet salad, and a pint of cold beer.
Ahh … as you lift a bowl of miso soup to your lips, and the smell of the steam meets your nose, there’s a short moment when you feel that everything is going to be alright. We love the taste of red miso. Its flavor is a little richer and earthier than white miso, which is sweet. Since coming back from Japan, miso soup has become my comfort food. Funny, huh? Even though this recipe isn’t as authentic because it’s made with vegetable stock instead of dashi, it was still warm, comforting, and nostalgic. I highly recommend it this fall!
We had marinated some skirt steak in our own teriyaki concoction (equal parts soy sauce and mirin, a splash of sake, two spoonfuls of sugar, and some crushed garlic) for a few hours, then BBQ-ed it. We served it with the miso soup, steamed rice, cucumbers marinated in rice wine vinegar, sugar, and chilies, and a bottle of sake.
Warm, Comforting Miso Soup for 4:
6 cups vegetable stock 3 TBS dried wakame seaweed 3 scallions, thinly sliced 4 TBS red miso 9 oz. firm or semi-firm tofu, cubed
In a pot bring stock to a simmer.
Meanwhile, soak the wakame seaweed in fresh water for about 10 minutes. Drain.
Add the wakame to the stock and simmer for 1 minute. Add scallions and simmer for 1 minute more. Turn off the heat.
Add the tofu and gently stir.
Transfer a little broth from the pot to a small bowl. Dissolve the miso into the broth and then return to the pot.
Stir gently for a minute to allow the miso to steep, then serve immediately.
Let’s stretch summer out as long as possible, shall we? This is a great panna cotta recipe that uses yogurt so it has a nice tang to it. While watermelon was refreshing, my family preferred the nectarines that we enjoyed over the leftover panna cotta the next day. But after tasting this recipe, you may not have any leftovers. This recipe is adapted from the one in the July 2008 Gourmet that is accompanied by lemon-thyme peaches.
1 1/4 tsp. unflavored gelatin (from a 1/4-ounce envelope)
2 TBS. water
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
1 cup plain whole milk yogurt
1/4 cup mild honey
1/8 tsp. vanilla extract
sliced fresh, seasonal fruit of your choice
Sprinkle gelatin over water in a small heavy saucepan and let stand 1 minute to soften. Stir in cream and 1/8 teaspoon salt, then heat gently over medium-low heat, stirring, until gelatin has dissolved.
Whisk together yogurt, honey, and vanilla extract, then whisk in cream mixture.
Pour mixture into 4 ramekins and chill, covered, until set, at least 8 hours.
Turn out of the mold first or simply top with the fruit and serve in the ramekin. (The panna cotta can be chilled for up to 3 days).
When I was a little girl, I refused to eat seafood. It’s really unfortunate because I must have missed out on a lot of delicious experiences. For example, in Felton, a small town outside of Santa Cruz, there is a restaurant called The Trout Farm Inn where you can C.Y.O.T. (catch your own trout) in the pond before the chef prepares it for you. All those years my family enjoyed the taste of the freshly caught fish, while I enjoyed chicken or something that was “safe” to me at the time. Well, tonight I realized what I’d been missing. My Mom prepared (and Dad grilled) the simplest and most delicious trout — seasoned with olive oil, salt, pepper, mint, garlic chives (also known as Chinese chives), and garlic chive-blossoms. Along with sautéed potatoes from our local farmer, a green salad with radishes and a vinaigrette, and a dry chardonnay, this meal was a gorgeous one.
Place the butterflied trout skin-side down and drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt, pepper, chopped mint, chopped garlic chives, and garlic chive blossoms. If you’re my Dad, gently use your finger to make one of the trout’s mouths say something vulgar.
Heat your grill. Medium heat is best so the fish is cooked through without burning the skin. Place the fish skin-side down on the grill and close the lid. Cook for about 10 minutes.
Serve with locally grown potatoes sautéed in a skillet with olive oil until they’re brown and crispy in spots.
My Dad has been growing these little peppers in our backyard for a while now. Rocoto peppers look like miniature bell peppers, but they’re actually quite hot. They originate in Peru and Bolivia. There are so many of them, we wanted to put some to use. They worked perfectly in this roasted salsa. Add another pepper if you want it to be even more ass-kickin’.
2 Rocoto peppers
3 vine ripened tomatoes, halved
5 small cloves of garlic, unpeeled
Olive oil, a few tablespoons
1/2 a white onion, diced
a large handful of cilantro
1 small lime
cumin, to taste
salt & pepper, to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a baking sheet, arrange the tomato halves, garlic cloves, and rocoto peppers. Drizzle with olive oil. Roast for about 50 minutes. Remove the garlic cloves and peppers and continue roasting the tomatoes for another 10-15 minutes.
When cool, peel the garlic cloves and remove the stems from the rocoto peppers. Place in a food processor.
Gently peel the skin off the roasted tomatoes and add to the food processor with the garlic and peppers. Process for about 5 seconds.
Add the onion, cilantro, lime juice, cumin, salt and pepper. Process until consistency is smooth.
Eat immediately with chips or as a taco sauce, or cover and refrigerate for later.
We’ve made it back to Santa Cruz and would like to introduce Jonas, the newest member of our family at only 3 months old. We adopted him from the SPCA a few days ago.
Soon we will be back with more recipes and food-related posts. In the meantime, we’re scurrying around trying to organize everything in our new house. So check back soon!
This will probably be our last Japan post, but don’t be sad. Oishii will definitely continue as we begin new culinary adventures in California. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s a really cool crab to talk about! You know you’re in Osaka when you spot this crab. His legs move up and down, beckoning you to come closer and take a picture of this Osaka symbol. Which we did. Many times. This is our favorite part of Osaka, an area called Dotonburi. We’ve probably been here a total of 7 or 8 times.We especially love it at night – the flashing neon lights and the way they reflect in the canal, the uniquely dressed teenagers, the smell wafting from little stands cooking takoyaki (distinctly Osaka octopus dumplings), and the sound of women welcoming you into their stores in high pitched whiny voices. It all comes together to create that “we’re not in Kansas anymore” feeling.
This is our friend Brandon and I in front of the famous Glico man sign. Glico is a famous food company in Japan that started off by selling caramel candy. The running man is its well known mascot.
Check out this couple that we saw enjoying a romantic evening together. Don’t you feel encouraged?
There used to be a Kirin brewery/tasting room in this area of Osaka, but it recently got boarded up. Hopefully they’re just remodeling. Here’s a picture from Christmas time two year ago when we went there with my family. I love this picture of my mom and hopefully she approves that I’m posting this 🙂
Dotonburi is also home to this really interesting elliptical ferris wheel that we’ve ridden one too many times. (Again, an older picture. We’re definitely not wearing sweaters in the 90 degree heat!)
さよなら (sayonara), Osaka! We hope to visit you again someday.
Despite our lack of posts lately, we definitely haven’t been going hungry over here! So many generous people have planned farewell lunches and dinners. Here’s a recap of what we’ve been eating and doing this past week.
My Tuesday evening class is a huge fan of my Mom’s oatmeal cookie recipe. I brought them the cookies one last time so they could pose in a picture with them.
We also played their favorite game, Qwitch. If you don’t know Qwitch you should strongly consider going out and buying it. It’s great for people who like competitive, fast-paced games.
Our Wednesday class students brought an insane amount of desserts – two kinds of cheesecake, strawberry cake, melon, and chocolates. We also learned how to whisk the perfect cup of matcha (green tea) with just the right amount of foam on top using a bamboo whisk.
Our Thursday morning classes took us to a very quaint Italian restaurant that served very Japanese style food. For example, the pasta course choices were eel with cream sauce, or clam and squid. Take your pick. The most interesting (and aesthetically pleasing) course was corn soup (a favorite in Japan), a martini glass of Caesar salad, and two raw shrimp served over a bed of pesto garnished with mini cherry tomatoes.
In the evening, our classes had a joint tea/sandwich party. Dustin’s student Michiko made several kinds of sandwiches on crustless white bread: egg salad, potato salad with tuna and carrots, and ham and cucumber. They were very comforting.
My Friday morning ladies surprised me with a beautiful selection of parfaits, which we devoured at 10:30 in the morning as a second breakfast. I ate the one in the background – panna cota covered with a layer of peach “jello” that encased raspberries and pineapple.
Then Dustin’s Friday morning class gave us a break from Japanese Italian and took us to a traditional Japanese restaurant for lunch. We enjoyed tempura, sashimi, wheat gluten, eel, pickled cucumbers, sweet beans, edamame, and many other tasty things, all beautifully presented.
The style of the restaurant was very rustic Japanese, and they served coffee in antique cups.
For our final Sunday class we lugged our waffle iron to the church and made cinnamon apple waffles for the students, using a mix that I had to use up before we move home. They were intrigued but the students seemed to really enjoy them, especially served with maple syrup and fresh blueberries.
Now that our classes are finished it’s time to focus on packing, but we’re also trying to fit in some fun things like karaoke and conveyor belt sushi for one last time 🙂
No one will ask you how you like your meat cooked at a yakiniku restaurant. Plates of sliced raw meat are brought to your table and you cook it yourself on a mini BBQ built into your table! How fun!
Yakiniku means “grilled meat.” Last Friday we went to a Korean style yakiniku restaurant with two of our students, 9 year old Yu, 7 year old Mana, and their mother Yuki.
We sat on thin cushions on a hard wood floor around a low table, and listened intently to see if we could catch what Yuki was ordering from the menu. Unfortunately we couldn’t catch any of the words because there was a table of loud, drunk business women beside us kanpai-ing every 10 seconds. Or maybe it was because we hadn’t learned the names for various organs. First, we encountered an appetizer of sliced raw liver drizzled with sesame oil, and sprinkled with sesame seeds and sliced onion. The taste was okay, but we weren’t fans of the melty texture. Luckily, Yu was really into the raw liver, so I kept sneaking her bites. She enthusiastically thanked me.
After we had pushed aside our appetizer we were ready for something grilled! What better way to start then …a steak? Nope. A plate of sliced tongue! After it was grilled it was actually quite tender and delicious, and tasted like beef, at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
We were happy when two plates of thinly sliced beef were brought to our table. Finally, something familiar. After they were cooked, we plucked the grilled pieces off the grill with our chopsticks and dipped them in a small dish of spicy sauce. In the meantime, various side dishes arrived at our already crowded table, like beef tartare with raw egg yolk. You’re supposed to mix the two together with your chopsticks before eating.
And some spicy fermented cucumbers and cabbage (of course known as kimuchi).
At the end of our meal, when we were completely stuffed, I gave Yu a chance to show off her English skills. When I first had her as a student she was 7 years old and spent the entire 50 minute lesson under the table kicking and screaming. Since then she’s done a complete 180, and she is one of my favorite students:
My first encounter with somen noodles was at an elementary school summer festival in Yamaguchi Prefecture 4 years ago. I watched as thin, white noddles were sent sliding down halved bamboo shoots, and children and parents gathered around trying to grab them with their chopsticks on their way down. The noodles that made it down to the bottom of the shoot without being caught were collected in a large bowl, then brought back up to the top to continue their journey again. I thought it was a very intriguing game, and apparently a summer custom.
We decided to try somen noodles, but we didn’t have to catch ours. Traditionally the cooked noodles are kept in a bowl of ice water in the center of the table. People help themselves and dip each bite into a bowl of special dipping sauce – made from a combination of soysauce, mirin, and dashi stock. My wonderful student Rei gave us 6 bundles of dried noodles, a bottle of dipping sauce, and some illustrated directions, so we decided to embrace this Japanese summer meal. Her pictures speak better than my words:
1 bundle of somen noodles per person 1 bottle of somen sauce – combine 1 part sauce with 3 parts water fresh grated ginger wasabi 2 shiso leaves, thinly sliced
Boil the noodles for 2 minutes only. Meanwhile, prepare a bowl of ice water. Drain the noodles and rise in cold water until they are cool. Transfer to the ice water.
In a small dish (1 for each person), combine the sauce and water. Add the ginger, wasabi, and shiso.
Take the noodles out of the ice water with chopsticks, dip in your sauce bowl and enjoy!
Anything coated in crunchy panko breadcrumbs and deep-fried has to be irresistible. Known as “food for the common people,” Kushi-katsu is popular among young and old in the neighborhood of Shinsekai, home of Tsutenkaku Tower – the symbol of Osaka.
Tsutenkaku means “tower reaching heaven.” It was built in 1912, but was taken apart in 1943 because the iron was needed for the war. Later in the 50s, the local people of Osaka rebuilt it and now it’s a symbol of Osaka and its citizens.
We took an elevator to the top of the tower and were greeted by Billiken, the cute god of good luck (and the god of the common people in Osaka). He mysteriously appeared in the dream of a female American artist in 1908, but exactly how he came to be a mascot in Osaka, we have no idea.
Rumor has it if you rub the soles of Billiken’s feet, your wish will come true! People lined up to give it a try.
We walked down busy streets, past street vendors selling necklaces and Hello Kitty purses, karaoke shops, rooms of old men playing an ancient game related to chess, pachinko parlors (Japanese pinball/slot machines), and many kushi-katsu shops in search of the perfect one for lunch. When my students decided they had found it, we squeezed into the tiny booth in the far corner of the long and narrow shop. The menu conveniently doubled as wall paper. Almost every surface of the wall was covered with writing describing all the delicious fried things to eat, and refreshing things to drink. Japanese sensory overload.
My students didn’t waste any time ordering beer and sake. If you drink 2, the 3rd one’s on the house. What a deal!
One of my students immediately ordered an appetizer for us. Then he proudly told us it was stomach stewed in white miso. The texture of the stomach was soft and easy to chew, but it was a little slimy. I thought the miso masked any offensive tastes that the stomach might have had.
Overall it wasn’t that bad, but if we hadn’t been told what we were eating, it would have tasted even better.
There were so many kinds of kushi-katsu to choose from on the vast menu, but we tried the quail eggs, shrimp, eggplant, onion, pumpkin, asparagus, lotus root, shitake, squid, and beef.
As we waited for our fried skewers to arrive, we snacked on fresh raw cabbage leaves dipped in the tangy brown sauce – complimentary on every table. The kushi-katsu arrived steaming hot and we consumed them quickly after dipping them once into the sauce.
There’s an important rule that’s actually posted on a sign outside on the street: no double dipping kushi-katsu!
This is the Osakan summer we remember. Mid-90s. 80% humidity. It’s really grand. But anyway, last week we went not once, but twice to a little shop that sells the best yakisoba on the planet. (Yakisoba means “fried noodles” and is just that; soba noodles stir fried with cabbage and a deliciously tangy brown sauce similar to Worcestershire). Their desserts are just as good, especially this one.
All you need is 3 simple ingredients to recreate it at home (well, assuming you have a shaved ice machine):
shaved ice a can of azuki beans (sweet red beans – can be found at any Asian supermarket) sweetened condensed milk
Fill a bowl with shaved ice. Put a scoop of azuki beans on top. Mound with more shaved ice. Drizzle with sweetened condensed milk. Dig in. It’s like a little edible Mt. Fuji!
That title means “Mexican Eggs.” If we were Japanese this is probably what we’d call this dish, because it’s inspired by everyone’s favorite Mexican breakfast Huevos Rancheros, and it involves eggs (tamago). But anyway, it only takes a few simple ingredients to create a healthy dinner or breakfast.
If using dry black beans: Soak 8 oz of beans overnight. Place beans in a dutch oven or large pot and add 3 cups water or broth — enough to cover the beans — and simmer for about an hour. When tender, season with salt, pepper, chili powder, garlic powder, and cumin to taste. Refrigerate for later or proceed below!
2 cups cooked black beans, seasoned 1 TBS. olive oil 1 bunch of spinach, washed and roughly chopped salt & pepper to taste chili powder to taste 1 tsp. fresh lime juice vegetable oil for frying 2 corn tortillas 2 eggs Habanero Salsa to taste
Add a swig of olive oil to a frying pan over medium heat. Add the spinach and cook until wilted. Season with salt, pepper, chili powder, and a squeeze of lime juice. Divide the spinach between two plates.
In a different pan, add vegetable oil to a depth of a 1/4 inch. Heat over medium high heat. When hot, fry the tortillas on both sides until crispy, turning once. Drain on paper towels.
Bring the pan that had spinach in it to medium high heat. Add a little more oil if necessary. Crack two eggs into the pan and season the tops with salt and pepper. Cook to your liking. It’s best if the yolk is a little runny.
Place a fried corn tortilla on each plate next to the pile of spinach. Top with a few spoonfuls of black beans, followed by the egg, and a sprinkling of your favorite salsa. Enjoy!
Gaijin means “foreign person.” It’s not the most respectful term in Japanese, but it’s not degrading either. It simply means you are not Japanese, but for some reason you are here in Japan. So what do gaijin do on 4th of July? Well, we don’t have BBQs because people only do that during cherry blossom season. And we don’t go to parades or wear red, white, and blue (because we stand out enough already), but we do gather everything we can to make a meal that resembles the one that we share with friends and family back home. And we do light sparklers and other kinds of firecrackers (calledhanabi) because unlike some counties in California, they’re perfectly legal and available everywhere.
Playing with fire – what Japanese children (and gaijin) do during the summertime.
Our main dish was hotdogs. Sounds easy enough. But Japanese hotdogs are usually cocktail sized, or taste more like breakfast sausages. The closest thing to an Oscar Meyer or a Ballpark are sold with sticks in them (this is how they’re sold at Japanese festivals with really spicy mustard). So we removed the sticks, heated them in a hot pan, and devoured them with lots of mustard, chopped onions, and tomatoes.
I wanted to make some sweet, smoky baked beans to go with our hotdogs, so this is the recipe that I came up (minus the bacon, because for some reason they discontinued it in our supermarket recently, along with butter. There seems to be a shortage going on. WTF!?)
Baked Beans
1 can white cannellini beans, drained 1 tsp. olive oil 1 clove garlic, minced 1/4 of a white onion, diced BBQ sauce (twice around the pan, if you’re Rachael Ray) Worcestershire sauce (once around the pan) 2 TBS. molassas 2 TBS. brown sugar 2 squeezes of ketchup 1 tsp. Dijon mustard salt & pepper to taste
Drain the beans and set aside.
Heat the oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the garlic and onion and cook, stirring frequently, until color just begins to change.
Add the beans, followed by all the other ingredients. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Taste and adjusting seasonings if necessary.
We also ate chips and habanero salsa, cornbread and watermelon! Usually we can’t find cornmeal here, but last week one of my students brought me a package of cornbread mix from Costco, so I happily accepted it!
So that’s what these gaijin did on Independence Day! God Bless America, but God Bless Japan too!! 🙂
You could easily walk right by the restaurant we ate at last Saturday and not even know it. It blends into the rest of the old merchant town of Ohmi in Shiga prefecture. Traditional houses and businesses resembling those of late Edo and early Meiji period line the quiet streets; a gentle reminder that Japan hasn’t always been bustling with crowded crosswalks, neon signs, and electronic districts. A group of our English students made reservations at Satou–pronounced sa-toe, meaning “sugar”–where we joined three other tables of diners in a single room and embarked together on an 8-course feast.
We were intrigued when a woman wearing an ornate kimono carried a bowl of what appeared to be snow to our table. Upon closer inspection we saw decorative sake cups chilling in the ice, and in the middle, buried deep, was a glass container of sake. Our lunch was off to a great start as one of our students offered the obligatory Kanpai! before taking the first sip.
There wasn’t much time to admire the snow bowl, because the woman was already placing a small dish in front of each of us. We waited until all the tables in the room were served, and the woman had given an explanation of the dish (that we couldn’t quite understand, so we relied on the rough translation from students ). Then we all started together on the first course: halved shrimp, cucumbers and radish in a cool vinegary broth with specks of seaweed. It was refreshing and reminded us of a Japanese version of gazpacho.
We saw the woman peering at us from behind the kitchen as we finished off our first course. She was probably surprised that us gaijin (foreigners) were using chopsticks. This is a common misconception among our students and restaurant staff. Yes, indeed, we can use chopsticks and we can also eat raw fish!
Our dishes were whisked away and replaced with black lacquer bowls with tight fitting lids. We removed the lids. Once the steam cleared we saw the clear broth, flavored with two kinds of Japanese citrus peels: yuzu (orange) and sudachi (green). In the middle was a block of tofu marbled with some ground shrimp paste. It was covered by a transparent circle. We must have looked confused because my students began to explain that it’s a vegetable like a cucumber that grows in Okinawa . It was so thin that we didn’t notice its taste much at all. Sprouts from a fresh water plant called junsai floated on the surface, but they were covered with a naturally occurring gelatinous substance that made them not as appealing.
As the woman cleared our soup bowls and began to pass out beautiful bright green plates, she explained that they were supposed to be for dessert, but she bought them for the purpose of serving sashimi. We agreed that they were appropriate. Soon our attention was no longer on admiring the woman’s dishes, but on the most beautiful sushi boat we’d ever seen.
Slices of tuna, mackerel, sea bream, and yellow tail, sitting atop a pile of shaved ice, garnished with shiso leaf, and sprouts, were just crying out to be eaten with wasabi and soysauce. The mackerel was especially delicious as it had been soaked in vinegar prior to being served. I was wary at first of eating the skin, but it didn’t deter at all from the flavor of the fish.
Even after we’d devoured the sashimi, I was sad to see the plate leave. The fresh cut flowers poking out of the crushed ice were a stunning table decoration. But the woman had more in store for us, such as a long, ceramic dish filled with little goodies. Starting from the left side there was a small bowl of bamboo, shredded dried fish, and brown seaweed. It was a harsh way to start the 4th course, but we told our taste buds they had to build up some endurance. We still had many things to try. In front of the little bowl was a block of “freeze-dried” tofu, as my students explained to us. This had a much more pleasing taste, except for the small dab of fermented fish paste on top. (I was hoping and expecting it to be something sesame flavored. My mouth was extrememly disappointed).
The soramame (“sky beans” or Japanese broad beans) tricked us. When we put them in our mouths they were sweet like candy. They must have been boiled with sugar. What a nice surprise. Behind them were snow peas with a sweet tomato sauce. The crunchy, pickled renkon (lotus root) was a nice contrast to the sweetness of the beans. This was the best section of the dish.
A piece of salmon with a creamy sesame-tartar sauce was a nice familiar item that we happily consumed. The toothpick with sweet, candied ginger was delicious too. However, we should have saved it as a reward for trying the shredded daikon (white radish) mixed with sea urchin. One bite of that was enough for me. Dustin was more gracious and ate it all.
Working our way down to the right end of the dish, we ate a piece of zucchini with some cooked eel lodged in the center. After eating the sea urchin, the eel was nice and mild, lacking that overwhelming fishy taste. We ended with a whole sardine. My students and Dustin popped the whole thing into their mouths, but I couldn’t eat the part with the eyes. I’ve never been able to eat things that are looking at me. By the time we finished all the items on the dish we were already getting full. A feeling of panic came over us as we realized we still had 4 more courses to go.
The next course didn’t photograph too well because it was moving too fast! We figured a video might capture it better.
A bubbling nabe (pot of soup) was set in front of us, containing leeks, shitake mushrooms, and balls of mochi (pounded rice) stuffed with ground meat. We could have ended the meal right there with the level of satisfaction that we felt.
But the woman returned with more. A bowl of sweet boiled pumpkin, spinach, and bamboo in a light broth with a piece of wheat gluten shaped like a leaf. We must be nearing the end, we thought. Then the woman put a giant bowl of rice in the middle of our table with a thud. We laughed because it seemed like a more appropriate response than a groan.
The rice was so good we only wish we had been able to enjoy it earlier in the meal, maybe in place of the sea urchin. It was steamed with little bits of ginger, infusing the entire bowl with a lovely aroma. It was accompanied by a small dish of picked daikon, nasu (eggplant) and cucumber, and a bowl of miso soup. We were ready to take a short nap right there at the table, but when we heard that the next course was dessert we gave a sigh of relief and decided we could finish the marathon.
Not one, but two desserts awaited us. There’s a saying in Japanese similar to “there’s always room for dessert!” At this moment we had to believe it was true! On the left was a glass with three layers: Sweet red azuki beans and sliced bananas topped off with a scoop of yuzu sorbet, garnished with a few Japanese maple leaves. On the right was a chilled bowl of clear jelly with sliced fruits, decorated with rainbow sprinkles. We washed our excessive dessert down with some genmaicha green tea that has a nice toasty flavor because the tea leaves are combined with roasted rice.
Full and content (well, beyond content) we left the restaurant Satou. The woman in the kimono held out her hand. We’ve been in Japan so long that we almost forgot what that gesture means. Then it came back to us. She happily shook our hands and thanked us for dining in her restaurant. We left with a small gift–some embroidered flower cell phone charms, something modern in the midst of a town so old–and navigated our way back through the streets, just like the merchants did long ago.
We love Pepsi’s limited edition flavors in Japan. Last year it was cucumbers, and this year it’s pineapples and lemons! The color entices you and gives you a sudden desire to go swimming. The name and label evoke strolling barefoot along sandy beaches with a Mai Tai. Too bad when you open it, it tastes like gummy bears in liquid form. That’s a good thing if you like gummy bears. Dustin says it’s “fruity and delicious”. I think it’s too sweet, not as refreshing as iced cucumbers, and doesn’t remind me at all of my last Hawaiian vacation. But if you come across it and are curious … Kanpai!
Hands down, tempura is my favorite Japanese food. And yes, I cheated below and used a picture from our lunch in Kyoto two weeks ago. My student Mieko and her husband Koichi invited us over for a Father’s Day dinner last Sunday, but we were so enthusiastic about eating the tempura hot out of the fryer that we neglected to take a picture. Besides, our fingers were too greasy. Forgive us. Anyway, Mieko and Koichi are such a great family. From day 1 in Japan they’ve been like our parents away from home. In fact, they are very welcoming to all foreigners. They often host international students in their home, and Koichi loves teaching Japanese.
We ate cook-your-own-tempura in the middle of the table. Mieko made her special tempura batter. She starts with the store-bought tempura mix that is made from a blend of wheat flour, cornstarch, and baking powder. Then she mixes it with shochu (a distilled spirit that’s sometimes made from sweet potatoes, but also barley or rice) and egg yolk. Ice water is most commonly used to make the batter, but she loves the flavor from using shochu instead. When the batter was ready, we dipped skewered shrimp, eggplant, onion, and peppers into it and fried them in vegetable oil until they were golden and crunchy. We dipped them in a dish of tempura sauce mixed with fresh grated daikon (white radish). There was also a beautiful plate of sashimi – salmon, tuna, and sea bream – a bowl of sushi rice, and a stack of seaweed squares ready for assembling temaki-sushi (hand-rolled sushi).
Tempura
1 egg yolk 3/4 cup ice water (or cold shochu) 1 cup tempura flour (or 1/2 cup cornstarch mixed with 1/2 cup flour) prawns Japanese egg plant, cut into medallions onions, cut into sections (see picture below) green bell peppers, cut into piecesor thick strips vegetable oil for frying
Combine the egg yolk, and ice water in a bowl. Add half the tempura flour and whisk together. Add the remaining flour and mix until almost incorporated. A few lumps are okay.
Skewer your veggies. Make 3 or 4 slits along the underside of the prawns to prevent them from curling when fried.
Heat your oil to 180 C (350 degrees) in a deep fryer or saucepan.
Coat the veggies and prawns in batter, and fry for about 3 minutes, turning once. They should be very lightly colored. Remove from the oil and serve immediately with tempura sauce, either store-bought or homemade.
Tempura Sauce
Combine 1/2 TBS sugar, 1/4 cup soy sauce, 1/4 cup mirin, and 1 cup dashi soup stock (if difficult to find, substitute with any broth, but the taste won’t be exactly the same) in a saucepan. Bring to a boil. Pour into dishes and top with freshly grated daikon.
No one will ask you how you like your meat cooked at a 
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