All Things Japanese – Page 30

Persimmon Leaf Sushi

There are many kinds of sushi, most of them with fish, a few with other things like avocado or eggs, and they come in a variety of forms: nigiri sushi (classic rice on bottom, fish on top), maki sushi rolls, temaki sushi wrapped in a piece of seaweed looking like an ice cream cone, chirashi sushi (rice in a bowl with raw fish sprinkled on top)… However, the one thing all sushi has in common is that it must be consumed fresh on the day it is made – it is raw fish, after all.

Well, there are exceptions to everything of course. In this case here, one of them is called kakinoha sushi, persimmon leaf sushi. It looks like a standard nigiri sushi wrapped in a green leaf, but there is a little more to it: To make kakinoha sushi, the cooked rice is placed in a wooden mold, the already cured fish is put on top of it, and the whole thing is pressed firmly. The finished pressed sushi is cut into bite sized pieces and only now individually wrapped in salted persimmon leaves. After that, the pieces are put back into the mold, topped with something heavy, and left to rest for a few days in a cool place.

Eating kakinoha sushi is easy: Simply unwrap and eat with your fingers (like all sushi, by the way). The persimmon leaf (which is not eaten although one probably could) can be used as a sort of natural napkin to touch the sushi, which are a bit more sticky than usual. Their distinct taste originates from the persimmon leaves – which are antibacterial, by the way – but it is not strong enough to overpower the fish. Most often, salmon, mackerel, and trout are used in kakinoha sushi.

This type of sushi is a speciality of Nara, a landlocked little city southeast of Kyoto; this is interesting because one would expect a fish product like this to be made where fresh fish is easy to get… The dish was traditionally prepared for ceremonies like the summer festival, where it is important to have food that does not spoil easily. Today, kakinoha sushi can be bought in many places all over Kansai at least, and it is a popular ekiben – the kind of bento food box you eat when traveling by Shinkansen. But that’s a story for another weekend…

Parade

Parade
Shuichi Yoshida

In a small apartment in Tokyo live four young people in their twenties: Ryosuke, a student whose favourite pastime is to wash his car. Kotomi who faithfully waits in front of the telephone for her lover to call. Mirai, manager of an import company who spends her nights getting drunk in gay bars. Naoki, who works for a film distributor and goes running for stress release. Although they live together in rather cramped conditions with boys and girls sharing one bedroom respectively, each of them more or less remains to themselves.

Then Satoru is brought home by Mirai, and the 18-year old who “works in the night” stays on the couch in the livingroom. His sudden appearance promptly upsets the fragile balance of the roommates, and cracks begin to show…

The book is written in five parts – one from the viewpoint of each protagonist. Although the story stays chronological, this change of viewpoint makes it feel a bit fragmented. Also the fact that the four roommates are “good at playing friends” without actually being so – as Satoru observes – did not make me care for the characters or draw me into the story. And the end – a shocking revelation about one of the five, which was shrugged away and covered up by the others – left me very dissatisfied. This can’t be how young people live these days?

Shuichi Yoshida was born in Nagasaki in 1968. He began writing very early, and received the Bungakukai Prize for New Writers in 1997, and the prestigious Akutagawa prize in 2002. Today, he has published 15 novels and 11 collections of short stories, however, only two of his novels have as yet been translated into English. Parade was his first novel, published in 2002 and translated in 2014.

The book is available on amazon.

Nanakusa no Sekku

January 7th, also called jinjitsu, traditionally marks the last day of the New Year’s festivities, and of course the Japanese celebrate it with special food. In this case, they eat nanakusa gayu – seven herb soup – which gives an alternative name to this day: nanakusa no sekku, the Festival of Seven Herbs. Eating nanakusa gayu is supposed to promote health during winter, and give one a long life, of course.

Besides that, after all the gluttony of New Year’s feasting, nanakusa gayu is also meant to rest the stomach a bit, and indeed, the soup is based on okayu, a simple, soft, and very bland rice porridge that people usually eat when they are sick. They then add the following seven herbs to the soup: water dropwort (seri), shepherd’s purse (nazuna), cudweed (hahagokusa), chickweed (hakobe), nipplewort (koonitabiraku), turnip (kabu), and radish (daikon).

Of course, it is now in the middle of winter, and these herbs are not easy to be gathered outside; note that in ancient times however, the festival would have been on the seventh day of the first month according to the lunar calendar, that is, about two months later than today. In any case, the modern Japanese do not forage outside, but rather in their nearest supermarket, where nanakusa can be bought in conveniently sized packs – or even, as I found out, as a dried mixture or in reheatable plastic bags complete with the finished rice porridge.

Even though my cooking skills are not exemplary, I did not stoop that low, but indeed bought the smallest pack of fresh nanakusa I could find and made my own rice porridge. The result was rather bland to be honest, but the tastes of the different herbs did come out very well this way.

Below is the recipe I used to make the nanakusa gayu from scratch. I will not post it in my washoku category because the herbs are pretty much impossible to find outside of Japan. However, if you feel like trying it anyway, you can use other herbs that you like or can find.

Recipe for nanakusa gayu, seven herbs rice porridge (for two people)

– 2 cups rice (Japanese or risotto rice)
– 8 cups water
– 1 piece of kelp (optional)
– salt
Boil the rice with the water and salt until it has a very soft texture. There should still be some water left at the end. (Optional: you can add a piece of kelp to add some flavour, but remove it when the water starts boiling so the taste will not get bitter.)

– 1 cup of nanakusa or seven other herbs (nanakusa are: Japanese water dropwort, shepherd’s purse, cudweed, chickweed, nipplewort, turnip, and radish)
Clean the herbs and blanch them in boiling water, then drain, rinse, and cut in small pieces.

When the rice is finished, gently stir in the herbs and let them heat up for a minute or two. (*) That’s it! Enjoy!

(*) Alternatively, you can forgo the blanching if you add the herbs to the rice a bit earlier. I did it that way, and it tasted fine to me, which does not necessarily mean anything though…

Japanese New Year Traditions

A New Year has begun, and again, I have tried yet a few more of the hundreds of traditions that surround this time of the year in Japan.

Unfortunately, I have been rather sick since Christmas, so instead of going out for the joya-no-kane ringing of the temple bells, I stayed in bed. I could hear the bells from there, however, and even so, it gives a wonderfully spiritual feeling to the quiet night.

I tried two of the food related Japanese New Year traditions though: On New Year’s Eve, I ate what is called toshi-koshi-soba, year crossing soba. Soba are buckwheat noodles, and depending on who you ask, you will get a different version of their significance in the dish: The noodles are long and symbolise a long life; but they are also easy to cut, so they make you let go of the hardships of the past year; and since the buckwheat plant is very hardy, this is a representation of strength and resilience (something I can definitely use right now).

For New Year’s Day, I had bought not a full Osechi menu, but only the sweets that come with it. The rooster is a symbol of this year, and the long flat thing is a paddle that’s used for hanetsuki, a type of old Japanese shuttlecock I have written about before. Interestingly, only half of the pieces had anko in it – I was very happy about that!

Besides that, I bought a rooster for my home. Not a real one of course, but a small ceramic statue that is usually displayed near the entrance. Since I don’t have space there however, I put it in my living room – one of the few things that are decorative there at the moment. It is my first such zodiac animal and according to a friend, you should not reuse an old statue (the zodiac repeats itself every 12 years), but always buy a new one, to attract new good luck to your home, so to speak. Well, this is a nice tradition to start in my home I guess, and it’s neither expensive, nor does it take too much space, so…

Nihonshu

As mentioned a week or two ago, at the end of November I went to a sake tasting. The person who conducted it was an American, and to be honest, I was slightly disappointed in the beginning. However, he turned out to really know his stuff and he was good at explaining things, so I was very happy in the end.

For example, I learned why on each bottle of sake there are two percentages given: The larger percentage indicates the milling rate, that is, how much the rice used was polished. The idea is that the smaller that milling rate (50% and lower, indicating more polishing), the more smooth the alcohol should taste. I say “should” because it is not always that clear-cut, or maybe my taste buds are not that refined. The smaller percentage indicated the alcohol percentage. Anything between 15 and 20% is standard, but recently, very light sake with around 8% alcohol only are produced as well, mostly to attract female customers.

Also, I have learnt that sake consists of rice, water, mold, and yeast. That means that the usual translation of sake as “rice wine” is misleading, it would be more accurate to speak of “rice beer”. Mostly, special rice is used for brewing, different to the one that is eaten. Interestingly, there is red rice that can be used for making sake. The result is something that has a very interesting taste – like European liqueur with a hint of soy sauce. It also has a distinctive red colour, most normal sake is colourless or at most slightly yellow only.

There are many sake breweries all over Japan, but Hyogo prefecture with the capital Kobe has the most. In Kyoto city, there are a number of sake breweries in Fushimi, and people claim that the water from there is especially good. Unfortunately, there are not many sake breweries that allow visitors, but every now and then, guided tours are offered. I will definitely look for one of those!

Sake brewing season is in winter when the rice has been harvested, from October to March. Over summer, the sake rests, and is afterwards bottled. The year and month of doing this is always noted on the bottle, and sake is best consumed within a month after bottling. It does not seem to age well since even our guide said the taste becomes “different” without going into details. That probably means it is awful for all but the biggest aficionados…

The most interesting information for me was that there are no sake sommeliers – you just drink it as you like it, hot or cold, with food or without… The most popular food to go with sake are tsukemono, Japanese pickles, apparently the equivalent to wine and cheese, or, more appropriately: beer and chips.

By the way: sake as we call it in the west simply means “alcohol” in Japanese, so if you want to order it here, you’ll have to use the term nihon shu, Japanese alcohol.

Reporting

When I was about 15 years old, I wanted to become a journalist. Since I liked writing and listened to music virtually all day, I thought music journalist would be a good match for me. Obviously my life didn’t quite turn out that way, but still, about 25 years later, I had my first journalistic adventure today.

Sponsored by Kyotogram (thank you!) I went to the Kyo-ryori exhibition that is held today and tomorrow at the Miyako Messe. The theme is Kyoto cooking, that is: kaiseki: expensive dishes with nothing but the best and freshest ingredients, styled to absolute perfection. It is the haute cuisine of Japan, and prices for dinner start at 15.000 YEN for the cheapest meals, drinks not included.

Since it is December, many exhibits were centered around O-sechi ryori, the meals you eat on the three holidays of New Year’s. Kaiseki already means exquisite styling of the food, but in O-sechi, the bar is yet raised a bit higher. The main ingredient of both kaiseki and O-sechi is fish and seafood of all kinds, and I think I saw only a single dish with meat.

Besides the food exhibits, there were sellers of food related items like expensive ceramics, kitchen utensils, etc. as well as tea, sake, and beer. There was also a place where you could take part in a (simplified) tea ceremony and a food court where you could order some lunch, standard Japanese fare though. There was also extra entertainment: The portioning of a whole tunafish (I came to late for this one to get decent pictures, but I had seen it once before), an extremely interesting demonstration of the ritual cutting of fish without touching it (something religious I guess, I’ll have to look it up), and a maiko dance performance (can’t go without that in Kyoto).

I did not have time yet to sift through all the pictures I took, but here are two of the most striking ones: a seafood rooster for New Year since next year is the year of the Rooster, and below: a fugu phoenix… Mind you: this is not plastic, this is real fish! How can anybody eat this!

The Chocolate

One of the things I still find slightly frustrating in Japan is that they do not share my idea of “sweets”. Whenever I think of “sweets” or “dessert”, it involves chocolate. Or at least ice cream. I guess this is part of my Austrian heritage? Admittedly, it is not nice to eat chocolate in summer when it is so hot that it melts halfway between your fingers and your mouth. But still…

So, imagine my delight when I found Meiji’s new brand The Chocolate. It is their first bean-to-bar chocolate as far as I know, and it comes in four different varieties, depending on the amount of cocoa. “Velvet Milk” with 49% cocoa is the one I like best. It indeed tastes very smooth and velvety although it is still darker than what I usually prefer. The price is a bit of an obstacle, with 220 YEN for 50 g more than two times as expensive as the red Meiji Hi Milk I usually have. But then again, a girl’s to indulge herself every now and then, no?

Nengajo Intricacies

I am getting ready to writing this year’s nengajo, New Year’s cards. I was planning to write to 10 people only which is surely manageable even though I can write Kanji only very badly and slowly. However, I just received a mochu hagaki card, which means there is one less nengajo to write this year.

Mochu hagaki are mourning postcards sent at the beginning of December, and essentially they say “I had a death in the family, please do not send me nengajo this year.” The idea is first to pay respects to the deceased, and second, when your father just died, for example, how can the New Year be a “happy” one. This seems to apply to closest family only, however, and just for one year.

Another friend told me that many old people for whom writing dozens of New Year’s cards becomes too burdensome, will write something like “this is my last nengajo” onto the card. This not only means that you will not receive any more from them, but also that you are not allowed to send them any! Doing so anyway is considered rude! I have not received any such card yet – my friends are not that old – but isn’t it interesting how many rules there are for something so simple as a New Year’s card?

The Old Capital

The Old Capital (Koto)
Yasunari Kawabata

Chieko is an adopted child, found one winter morning on the doorstep of Takichiro and Shige. Now Chieko is 20 and settled into the life and routines of a kimono wholesaler’s in Kyoto’s Nishijin area. But on a visit to a shrine during Gion festival, a young girl she has never seen before excitedly begins a conversation with her. It is Chieko’s twin sister Naeko who was raised by a poor family in Kitayama after the death of both their parents. Their unexpected meeting brings inner turmoil and outward complications to both sisters. But also the obi weaver Hideo, Chieko’s childhood friend, must choose between the two.

The book is set in Kyoto in the 1950s, and it provides interesting insights into the life of that time, where many people still wore traditional kimono when riding the modern tramway. What I found particularly interesting was the rigid class distinctions that existed between the girls, and which especially Naeko could not overcome – she keeps calling her sister “Miss” throughout the novel. In typical Japanese manner the ending is left open, but as Naeko departs from Chieko one still hopes for a happy ending for both sisters.

Yasunari Kawabata (1899 – 1972) was the first Japanese to win the Nobel prize in Literature, in 1968. This book, Koto, was one of only three cited by the Nobel committee for their decision – and that although the first (official?) translation into English was published only in 1987. Kawabata was orphaned at an early age and eventually lived with his mother’s extended family. When he graduated from university in 1924, he had already published some stories and quickly rose to fame; still he worked part-time as a newspaper reporter. He died under unclear circumstances, most people consider his death a suicide though.

Check out the book on amazon – have fun!

Advent Calender

As today is the first of December, advent has begun, and it is time for an advent calender. I do the same thing as last year – I draw something to indulge myself every day – so that’s nothing new there.

However, one of my students from Germany is visiting Japan right now. Apparently, he makes an online “Advent Calender of Curiosities” each year, and this year it’s all about those curious things he found en route in Japan. The doors open daily at midnight (European time) and he already started off with something … oh well, do have a look yourselves!

Unfortunately, the calender entries are in German, but there are pictures to go with the description and if all else fails, there’s always google translate. Enjoy!

(And big thanks to Sebastian for allowing me to link to the calender!)