Congrats to UM for being around for five years! I still remember my first post on Peking duck back in 2007 (after constant harassment from Kayoko to write for her), and over the past five years, I’ve written over 200 posts. When we started, it was a fun, jokey, let’s-talk-about-food-in-a-very-funny-way kind of activity. But 5 years later, we now have 15,000 visitors a month and we are becoming more and more of a legit food blog site!

Given the level of professionalism at Umamimart, I have to make some adjustments, and I have to make an announcement.

Yamahomo no longer exists, and from now on, Moto will be writing this ReCPY column. I am starting to plan my future in various ways, and I am starting the Moto empire, very slowly. Please join me thanking Yamahomo for his five years of crazy posts, and welcome Moto.

As a part of my empire, I’ve started a short cooking video series Nihon in the Kitchen (Nihon = Japan) with my very talented colleague Ben. I do the cooking, he films, edits, and does all the animation. In these short segments, I introduce Japanese ingredients (sort of like Yoko’s Japanify), and make something easy, fun and out of ordinary.

In this above episode, I made Natto Nuts, and this is the easiest way to introduce the benefits of natto without the slime.

Enjoy!

By Kenji Miura

Shiokara is a fantastic savory condiment to your favorite glass of shochu. This particular shiokara is made with surume ika (Japanese Common Squid or Pacific Flying Squid).

INGREDIENTS
5 fresh squid
2 tbsp salt

METHOD

1. Clean the squid. (Here’s how via Kyoto Foodie)

2. Cut the legs and ears (the triangular portion of the squid) off of the main portion of the squid. Peel the skin off.

3. You may set aside the main body portion for sashimi.

4. The legs and ears will be added to the shiokara mixture. Cut these into 1-1.5 inch long pieces. Clean off any slimy film that you may encounter.

5. Mix salt and the brown innards (liver/digestive gland) of the squid together for the shiokara mixture, into a pasty consistency. I sometimes replace the salt with anchovies, which is a good alternative.

6. Add the squid leg and ear pieces to the mixture.

7. Keep in air tight container for 24 hours in the refrigerator.

Eat within 36 hours after coming out of the fridge.

To enjoy shiokara, add shichimi spice or yama wasabi (mountain wasabi, shown in the photo). I am a Hokkaido native, so I am especially fond of yama wasabi, which is used for seasonings and marinades. Yama wasabi is also a great condiment to roast beef, similar to horseradish.

Black olives are also a nice pairing to shiokara.

*Kenji Miura is a professional photographer based in Tokyo.

**Article translated from Japanese to English by Yoko Kumano.

The other day at my local Asian market — which is usually not very well equipped since importing food from Asia to an unsignificant little island kingdom like Denmark is incredibly pricey — I found these bags of grains. And I remembered the many crazy versions of rice I often came across when living in Tokyo. Blue, green, dotted in all colours, with grains, with beans, with nuts, anything you’d be sane enough to drop in a rice cooker.

Japanese consumers are obsessed with the terms “fresh” and “new”. In supermarkets and konbinis in Japan products are constantly being introduced, killed-off or moved around in the store to create the impression of variation and new experiences every time you enter the shop = more consumption, more shopping.

Shibuya: A normal day of skanky shopping.

As fellow Umamimart writer Yoko has mentioned several times in her Japanify coloum, new flavours of a well known product are introduced constantly, and quite often those flavours are more a gimmick than a real addition to its brand. Like Green Tea Coca Cola, Vanilla Licorice Beer or Mango Pudding Kit Kat. They may not taste super good, but they invoke a sensation in the consumer’s brain and a quick 10 second reminder of its brand in the surrounding cacophony of other brands across the globe. It’s all about staying afloat in people’s minds, no matter the cost.

Caramel Corn candy bags – why just one corn flavour when we can have six? Strawberry Corn, Tomato Corn, Peanut Corn, Green Tea Corn, Almond Corn and Vanilla Corn.

Japan makes you buy stuff — and that’s exactly what many urban Japanese do: work/eat/shop/sleep (wait hold on, they barely sleep since their work schedule is so intense. And also there’s very little sex involved — the Japanese are so over relationship fornication according to many recent studies. Many young, urban Japanese past their 20′s prefer to stay living at home with their parents and then spend their salary on fun with friends, foreign travels, izakaya dinners and shopping. And the shops know that.
Which means whenever you find yourself on a first class seat to Tokyo, make sure you brought lots of empty suitcases to bring back your new junk.

Tokyo, 2008: Psyched out Anders high on a mixture of sugary green tea ice cream overdose and Tokyu Hands toy department shopping frenzy:

“Look, Yoko — I’m shopppiiing! How about this bed? Should I buy it? Does it fold for the plane ride? What do you think, Yoko? Oh those sheets over there are lovely, I’ll take two of those! Wow, check out those Muji designer bunny slippers! Do you think they come in white male sizes?”

Yoko: “Get me out of here”.


Chopped baby bunny meat burger. Kidding. Sort of, I think.

But sometimes this crazed up variation shopping machine isn’t so bad. It’s actually quite exciting now and then. And I really really miss this energy and creativity among the brands in Danish supermarkets. Every five years there MIGHT be introduced a new flavour of a classic chocolate bar here, but it  will probably be “Almond” or “Soft Toffee” or something generic, really thought-over and well-tested with consumers. Yawn, you say? I agree. Then again, Red-Bean-Paste-Whole-Grain-Spearmint Kit Kat probably wouldn’t sell truckloads here. However, a little craziness now and then would be fun here in Denmark.

Back to the rice mix:

Super cute package.

It says げんきなこくもつ which best can be translated as “happy, vigouris richness”. Which is exactly what it brings to your plain, white boring rice.

Danish ingredient list stuck on the back by the import company lists the ingredients:

This is 15 kinds of rice/grain mix: Gluten rice, black rice, corn, red beans,, barley, buckwheat, pearl barley, black soy beans, black seseame, white sesame, brown rice, white sorghum, gluten foxtail millet, gluten millet and amarand grains.

WOW! That’s a whole lotta grainz.

Sounds like something the organic crazies here in Copenhagen would happily sprinkle on their tofu ice cream.

It says this bag goes with 500g rice which is exactly 4 cups.

Many Western people claim that rice doesn’t really taste of anything and it’s all the same. Well, not quite.

The world of Japanese rice is an abundant cornicopia of brands that offer thousands of different textures, subtle flavours and qualities.

My latest disappointment in my fellow Danes was last week when I went to the Kung Fu Izakaya Bar in Copenhagen. A Japanese izakaya-inspired place with wooden interiors and cozy lighting. All was good until we sat down and the starter miso soup with a bowl of Indian basmati rice was placed in front of me. SHOCK HORROR! You can NOT serve Indian rice in a Japanese izakaya, it’s like serving expensive salmon nigiri sushi with ketchup on the side (something that will send you straight to hell). Needless to say the rest of the dishes were also an abomination and we left hardly having touched the food.

This is my preferred rice at the moment. Hitomebore rice, a middle grain sort which is developed in Japan but grown in the US. I used to buy cheaper brands at the Asian market, but this is so much better. It’s about $23 for a bag of 2.5 kg which is probably a little pricey for American or Japanese standards.

The owner of my local Asian market told me yesterday that their container from Japan was finally delivered after being held back for two months in customs since there are only 3 freight companies in Denmark that scan for radiation contamination (supposedly everything from Japan is scanned before crossing the border to the EU. Hmm I didn’t know that, but I guess it makes sense).

So again, back to the rice:

I put 4 cups of rice in my rice cooker bowl. Wash gently 4-5 times until the water is somewhat clear.

Pour out all water, add approx 4 cups of new fresh water and let it soak for 10 minutes.

Put in the bag of happy, vigorious richness and mix around.

Place the cooking bowl in the rice cooker and start cooking.

While we wait for the vigorious rice, I want to show you the best Christmas present I got this year: A “Famous Views of Edo” week calendar from Taschen, painted by one of the most famous uki-e painters Hiroshige (1797 – 1858).

Edo was the old name for present day Tokyo and the paintings in the calendar show the nature around the old capital, the life of its inhabitants and the many incredibly scenes from a world long gone.

What must a foreigner have thought when coming to Japan the first time back in this age? Everything must have been so aesthetic, so beautiful — and yet so raw. A hard-knock life.

Ok, so this is the amount of Mondays we have to endure throughout 2012. Doesn’t look like a lot actually:

And speaking again of shopping:  If you’ve fallen in love with this too, you can purchase it online here at Taschen for cheap since the year’s begun now.

Yay, the rice is done. What a difference such a little grain filled bag can make. The rice has a nutty smell and a creamy brown/white colour, and is full of exciting new flavours among is grains.

It tastes great. It’s not a super intrusive attack on the traditional rice, more like a fun variation and a nutty boost.

Happy winter rice time from Skankynavia.

I’ve been obsessed with making this dish for a few months now — it is really satisfying when you are craving noodles, and so ridiculously easy to make. You can usually find nabeyaki udon on the menus at Japanese restaurants, for $12+. This is so easy to make at home, and cheap!

INGREDIENTS
1 pack of frozen udon noodles (if you only have the hard kind, that is fine too)
A few pieces of fishcake (I use chikuwa here)
A type of green (bok choy, napa cabbage, spinach)
Some green onions
Udon/Soba soup base

Optional: Egg and mushrooms

METHOD

1. Fill pot with 3 cups of water:

One requirement for this dish is to have a heavy pot, be it a nabe-style clay pot, or cast iron. Le Creuset works fine.

2. Chop all ingredients

3. Once the water starts to boil, add about a tablespoon of the udon soup base, or homemade tsuyu, to the water. Add the fishcakes to get more dashi, and umami.

4. Optional step: In another pot, boil water and cook noodles seperately

This is a not-so-lazy step that I do because I find the starch element, that Anders had mentioned before in his bacon udon recipe , to be too much when the noodles are cooked in the same pot. But technically if you have frozen udon, you should just be able to put it in directly to the pot where you’re cooking everything else.

I found these frozen Sanuki-style noodles at the Korean market, for super duper cheap. $2.50 for five packs!

It’s not the best udon, but it works fine. We are in a recession, afterall.

5. Dump all the vegetables into your pot.

Let it all come to a simmer.

6. The stove should be on medium. Add noodles.

Again, you can pre-boil the noodles, or just add the frozen pack directly into the pot, at this point.

7. Add egg.

8. Cover the pot, with all the ingredients boiling.

9. After about three minutes, open the lid.

It’s done when the egg is cooked to your liking.

All in all, this took about 15 minutes, including prep.

Add grated daikon if you please, and a heap of green onions. If you have any ten-kasu (tempura flakes), sprinkle some over. Serve in little bowls.

This is the perfect dish to keep you and your family warm during the winter months.

If you can get your hands on sake kasu (sake lees, a yeast by-product of sake making) a subculture of cooking opens up to you. Most commonly used for marinating fish and pickling, sake kasu looks like pizza dough with the consistency of wet clay and aroma of nama (unpasteurized) sake. It’s usually available for cheap, next to the okara (tofu lees) in a Japanese or Asian market.

For my first sake kasu challenge, I decided to make some kasuzuke, or sake kasu pickles.

INGREDIENTS

3 Japanese or Persian cucumbers
5 small radishes
(These are just suggestions for vegetables. Other commonly used vegetables are daikon radish, carrots and burdock root)
3 cups of sake kasu (wet or dry)
3 tbsp of salt
1 tbsp of sugar
Splash of sake or shochu (if you are using dry kasu)

METHOD

1. Salt vegetables liberally. Place in a plastic container and cover with saran wrap.

Leave in a dry place with a weight on it overnight.

2. The next morning, the vegetables should be limp.

3. In a mixing bowl, combine kasu, 1 tbsp salt and 1 tbsp sugar. Mix well. If you are using dry kasu (it will be crumbly) add a splash of sake or shochu to moisten.

4. Spread a layer of the kasu mixture on the bottom of the plastic container.

5. Add one layer of vegetables.

6. Spread a layer of kasu over the first layer of vegetables.

7. Add another layer of vegetables.

8. Spread a layer of kasu over the second layer of vegetables.

9. Cover container tightly with saran wrap and place a weight on it.

10. Wait 3-5 days.

11. Remove the vegetables from the tub and rinse the excess kasu off in cool water.

12. Slice to enjoy. Save the rest in an air-tight plastic container (for up to 2 weeks).

The taste is sweet and mild and the smell is a little fermented (stinky in a sake kind of way). The texture is super crispy and goes really well with a hot, steaming bowl of white rice.

When root vegetables such as radishes are in season, making kasuzuke can be an exciting way to try new varietals without having to think of specific recipes for each. Just throw them into the sake kasu trough and wait a few days and you’ll be rewarded with a crunchy, stinky (in a good way) condiment to your rice that will stay good in the fridge for up to two weeks.
Smart.

To celebrate the new year, I hosted a last-minute dinner last night with a few close friends. What was on the menu? Okonomiyaki! It was a mellow evening of cocktails and sour beers to accompany the famous Japanese savory pancake.

It was the first time I would be making okonomiyaki, but I figured it would be easy enough. I borrowed a rad table-side hot plate from the parents (which I do not plan on returning, suckas!), and went on a quick trip to the local Korean supermarket (a awesomely cheaper alternative to the Japanese market) to get all the necessary ingredients and toppings.

Prep was minimal — the biggest pain in the ass was slicing all the cabbage. But nothing was too time-consuming or labor intensive.

Two types of pork belly: American, and “skinless black pork” from Denmark. (For Anders)

Vanesa demonstrating the wonders of nagaimo (mountain potato, not to be pronounced “na-gay-mo”, haha)

The batter itself is not unlike pancake batter. It consists of about 1 cup flour, 2 eggs, and 300ml water. Add a bot of nagaimo here. I cheated and also used some pre-made okonomiyaki mix, which you can buy at the Japanese market.

Mix all your desired ingredients into about a cup of batter. We had shrimp, squid, OYSTERS, enoki mushrooms, tempura flakes and of course, cabbage.

Stir so all the ingredients are coated in batter.

Lay the batter onto a hot, well-oiled pan.

Flaten out evenly. You want the pancake to not be so big you can’t flip it, nor too thick that it won’t cook through.

Add pork belly.

Flipping the pancake can be difficult. I ended up having to cut the pancake into several pieces to be able to flip, which is fine, but not ideal.

When done, slather on some kewpie mayo, Japanese “sosu” (okonoiyaki sauce tonkatsu sauce is fine) or and sprinkle some beni-shoga (pickled ginger) and aonori (green seaweed).

Yoko brought yakisoba, a necessary accompaniment to okonomiyaki.

Eat!

Happy new year everyone! Let’s make 2012 the year of Okonomiyaki!

*Photos by Johnny Lopes and Yoko Kumano

As 2011 draws to a close, I am not thinking about the Mayans. Rather, I am trying to decide what I will be eating over the weekend. PRIORITIES, people!

I’ll be working on Saturday evening (apocalypse be damned!), but I’ll have all the accouterments ready to ring in the new year with Johnny and a bowl of toshikoshi soba as soon as I get home. With a bottle of bubbly of course!

Toshikoshi soba is always eaten on New Year’s Eve in Japan. Toshikoshi roughly means, “to kill off the year”, and so you can start the new year with a clean slate. “Why soba?”, I asked my mother. Hideko thinks the soba represents living hosoku, nagaku (slenderly, long). She hung up on me before I could ask any more questions regarding this matter of living “slenderly”.

I bought this fancy shin soba (new soba) in Nagano prefecture, when I was there in November. Nagano is well known for their soba. The notion of “new soba” is interesting — essentially, it is soba made of newly harvested buckwheat. Shin soba is quite a specialty in Japan, as the Japanese love anything “new”.

I figure December 31 will be a good time to break open the seal (erm, before it expires).

Yes, the strands of soba are slender and long.

It is a treat to have fresh soba, as I usually eat the hard stuff throughout the year. I’ll be making Yoko’s soba tsuyu (dipping sauce), and eating the soba cold. Traditionally, toshikoshi soba should be served warm, but I prefer mine cold. That’s how Hideko usually served it, anyhow. Although zaru soba (cold soba) in the winter time is pretty blasphemous.

Photo by Yoko Kumano

Happy new year, Martians!  Thanks for all your support in this last year. Umamimart will turn 5yo in 2012. Wow! I look forward to sharing more food adventures with you in the new year.

*Top photo by Yoko Kumano 

Chestnuts signify the presence of winter in many cultures. Although I’ve never actually tried chestnuts roasted by an open fire, I have tried the Japanese version of chestnuts simmered in simple syrup, or kuri no kanroni. However, I had never taken the initiative to prepare a chestnut dish because the task of peeling always seemed so daunting.

But this display, staring me in the face as I entered my local market, made me want to take on the challenge.

The sheer number of chestnut peeling Youtube videos on the internet gives you some insight into just how problematic these nuts are.

It would have been nice to have one of those handy tools for the peeling process… But I only had a knife and 10 fingers so I tried this method.

Cut bottom of chestnut with scissors and peel the rest by hand. I also found it helpful to shimmy one of the scissor points between the nut and shell and gently cracking it open.

Cut

Peel

To get rid of the inner skin, bake in a 400˚F degree oven for 10 minutes.

This out layer will be easy to remove after it’s dried out and crackly.

Kuri no kanroni is considered a special treat in Japan. The chestnuts are simmered in simple syrup and have a beautiful deep yellow-mustard color to them. The chestnuts are also chiseled in a way that none of the brain-like crevices of the chestnut remains. Mine, on the contrary, are au naturel as I did not chisel them down. They also don’t have a uniform color to them because I did not pare them down.

Kuri no kanroni are most often served alone or in red bean paste desserts. Considering the labor that goes into peeling and simmering a whole chestnut, in tact, I now understand why these are so expensive.

Chestnuts are part of Japanese New Year festivities, most commonly as kuri kinton or mashed sweet potato with chestnuts. I am invited to a New Years Dinner this year and am very excited to bring a chestnut dish as my festive contribution.

Kuri no kanroni (Chestnuts Simmered in Syrup)

INGREDIENTS
1/2 lb peeled raw chesnuts
10 tbs of sugar
Water

METHOD

1. Peel the chestnuts. (This will no doubt be the hardest task).

2. Put chestnuts in a saucepan and cover with water.

Bring to a boil, then decrease to low heat. Simmer for 20 minutes.

3. Raise chestnuts in a collander and rinse with cold water.

4. In the saucepan, add 1.5 cups of water and 5 tablespoons of sugar.

5. Melt the sugar on med-hi. When the sugar dissolves, add the chestnuts. Bring to a boil, then turn the heat off.

6. Cover with a paper towel or cheesecloth and leave for at least 5 hours.

7. After at least 5 hours remove the cheesecloth and add 5 more tablespoons of sugar. Bring to a boil, then turn heat off immediately. Mix so that the sugar dissolves while being careful not to smush chestnuts.

8. Wait for at least 5 more hours.

9. Preserve in jars.

These chestnuts will have the texture of a dense sweet potato. Because the only ingredient enhancing its flavor is sugar, kuri no kanroni is a very good dish to showcase the unique flavor of chestnuts which seem to curiously possess an expansive sweet and savoriness to them that makes me nostalgic for some reason. The Japanese word to describe the taste would be yasashii (gentle/kind).

Mine did not come out looking much like professional kuri no kanroni, instead the look (golden brown) and feel of them (firm but moist) was much closer to those zip-packs called Muki kuri that are sold at convenient stores and grocery stores throughout Japan. I can still imagine using these for Japanese sweets cooking though. I will try submerging these in my mizu yokan.

Full of fiber and protein these are great for taking along for a picnic. Or make the squirrels jealous as you pop them in your mouth while hiking.

Akemashite omedetougozaimasu! (Happy new year!)

I have missed writing this column, so I’m bringing it back! I can not pretend that I have abandoned my lazy ways, or that I’ve stopped cutting corners when cooking. My kitchen may be much bigger than what I had in Brooklyn, but this only means that I can spread out my laziness over more counterspace.

Today, I bring to you a lovely lazyass recipe given to me by my sweet friend Moet, in LA. It consists of natto, an egg, and some scallions. That’s it! It doesn’t get any better than this, my friends, as these three ingredients are some of my favorite foods, hands down. It is a dream to be able to combine them into one simple, lazyass dish.

INGREDIENTS
1 pack of natto
1 tbsp oil
1 egg
1 spring onion (optional)

QUICK RECIPE

1. Chop scallions.

2. Mix natto in a bowl.

3. Crack an egg into the bowl and mix with natto.

4. Heat oil in frying pan.

5. Add natto/egg mixture to the frying pan

6. Meanwhile, thaw your frozen, pre-steamed package of rice in the microwave.

7. Carefully flip your natto omelette in the frying pan.

8. Put rice in bowl. Place the omelette over the rice.

9. Eat standing up in your spacious California kitchen, with chopsticks and various condiment crack.

From prep to completion, this dish takes about 10 minutes. LAZY!

+++

PHOTOS

Mix natto, chop scallions

Add egg to natto 

Scramble egg with natto really well.

Add scallions

Heat oil

Add natto mixture into hot pan

Try your best to flip the omelette. This part is very difficult as the natto/egg mixture easily breaks apart.

Cry when you fail

Thaw your frozen pre-steamed rice in the microwave. This is lazyass, remember? Don’t bother steaming a new pot of rice for this. 

Place your janky-looking omelette over the rice

Eat with some other rice condiment crack, like kimchi, and Yoko’s nametake (I actually made this last night! Mine is too salty though)

Slice avocado cause you’re in California and nothing else matters. Meshiagare (go ahead and eat)

To add to this lazyass meal, I made an equally lazyass miso soup with wilting vegetables I found in the fridge.

Boil water (homemade dashi? Psssh, not in this lazyass kitchen). Add sliced daikon, bok choy, scallions and broccoli (or anything you want). Add miso and sprinkle in some ajinomoto (MSG baby).

All this must be consumed while standing in your kitchen. Long live Lazyass Cookin’!

I usually make a vat of potato salad before I leave for a trip, leaving my husband poor and defenseless against the elements of bachelorhood. But this time I didn’t have time before the trip and figured he’d be able to fend for himself…

It turns out that while I was gone for three weeks in Japan last month, my husband lived off of canned food and bottled condiments. Seeing the contents of the pantry diminished and a “family size” umeboshi container gone upon my return, I replayed the numerous meals that took place without me in our kitchen. I was hit with flashes of instant ramen and lonely bowls of rice with MSG-laden Japanese bottled condiments.

One of the items that seemed to get a lot of love during my time away was the nametake jar.

Nametake is a condiment for rice consisting of enoki mushrooms.

Enoki mushrooms

Its sweet, slimy quality is a hit amongst the Pikachu crowd (i.e. children).

Ironically, across the Pacific Ocean, I was admiring another nametake jar in Nagano, Japan.

Two weeks ago, I was talking to a friend of mine about how my husband was subsisting off of nametake jars and canned tuna fish, and she told me about how she makes her own nametake. She described the easy process. It was no surprise that making enoki involved the same old Japanese ingredients: soy sauce, mirin, sake, sugar and vinegar. I followed the easy-to-follow recipe on her blog, Imakoko Life, and in 20 minutes I had a bottle full of glistening homemade nametake.

Nametake

INGREDIENTS
Make about 1.5 cups
2 packs of enoki
3 tbsp soy sauce
3 tbsp mirin
2 tbsp sake
2 tbsp vinegar
1 tbsp sugar

METHOD

1. Cut enoki stems off. Discard stems. Cut enoki into thirds.

2. Bring a pot of water to a boil. Boil the enoki for 2 minutes. Strain the enoki.

3. Put the pot back onto the stove top and combine soy sauce, mirin, sake, vinegar and sugar into the pot. Bring these ingredients to a gentle rolling boil.

4. Add the enoki back into the pot and keep on medium or low heat until the liquid reduces to 1/2 its original volume.

5. Jar it!

In a taste comparison test, the store bought enoki was much saltier than mine. It probably used more soy sauce (by the looks of it too). The store bought one also looked a little bit shiner.

Store bought enoki

The umami quotient for the homemade nametake blew the store bought one away. It also had a nice springy texture that the store bought kind doesn’t.

Homemade enoki

The downside to the homemade one is that it will only last for about 10 days versus a few months for the store bought kind (thank you, preservatives). I guess that means the next time I leave my husband in bachelor-land, it’ll have to be for 10 days or less, with a freezer full of pre-steamed rice to microwave.