winter

Classic Sukiyaki, The Quintessential Japanese Beef Hot Pot

maki — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 19:36:58 +0100

Sukiyaki (すき焼き）is a Japanese word that is widely known outside of Japan, but very few people have actually had the real thing　unless they’ve been invited to a Japanese person’s home for dinner - or gone to a traditional inn or ryoutei (high end traditional Japanese restaurant) where it is cooked for you at the table. This is because, like tori nabe, this is really another nabe that is cooked at the table, at home, rather than eaten at a restaurant. You may encounter ‘sukiyaki’ on some restaurant menus, but if it’s been cooked in advance in the kitchen, it really isn’t sukiyaki. (I’m not sure why there are dedicated shabu-shabu restaurants but no sukiyaki restaurants, but I think it’s because sukiyaki is so strongly associated with home cooking.)

Unlike tori nabe, sukiyaki is not inexpensive, since you need top grade steak-quality meat. If you have access to a Japanese grocery store or a butcher that is familiar with the ‘sukiyaki’ cut, you can buy ready-cut meat there. (In New York, I used to get sukiyaki meat from Schaller and Weber on the Upper East Side). If you can’t get sukiyaki meat, get a piece of sirloin with a good amount of marbling and a thick piece of fat attached. Allow for about 100 grams / 3 1/2 ounces of meat per person. You do not need to use wagyuu or Kobe beef - that would be overkill. In Japan, sukiyaki is the quintessential gochisou (御馳走) - feast or treat, because good beef is the most expensive kind of meat. It’s what you have for a special occasion, or just after payday.

Sukiyaki can be enjoyed at any time of the year, but any kind of nabe seems to be best suited to the winter, when the family can gather around the dining table helping themselves from a fragant, steaming pan of food.

There are two basic methods of making sukiyaki: Kanto, or Tokyo-area style, and Kansai, or Kyoto/Osaka area style. Since I’m from the Tokyo area I’ll show you how to do the Tokyo style, with a recipe for the Kyoto method below.

Recipe: Classic Kanto Style Sukiyaki

Feeds 4 adults

1 lb / 450g well marbled sirloin or similar, with a chunk of fat on the outside; OR about 1 lb of sukiyaki beef with a small chunk of beef fat
1 block of firm tofu or yakidofu (firm tofu that has been lightly grilled on the outside, available at Japanese grocery stores), cut into chunks (allow for 2 chunks per person)
1 small or 1/2 large chinese/napa cabbage, cut up into chunks
a bunch of green leafy vegetables - I used pak choy here (traditional green is shungiku; use what you have)
4 large or 8 small/medium raw shiitake mushrooms, stems cut off (you can use portobello mushrooms instead, sliced - 1-2 big ones)
The white of 1 leek, sliced
2-3 packs of fresh or frozen udon noodles
1 pack of rinsed and blanched shirataki noodles

For the sauce, called warishita (割り下）

1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup dark soy sauce
1/4 cup sake
1/4 cup mirin
1/4 cup sugar

Optional:

4 raw eggs, to serve as the dipping sauce

Equipment:

A tabletop burner (see the tori nabe article)
A sukiyaki pot (a flat cast iron pot), or a large sauté pan or frying pan with fairly high sides so that you can pile in the vegetables and so on
Long chopsticks or a long fork or tongs
Smallish bowls for serving, one per person. Breakfast cereal sized bowls are good.

If you got the hunk of steak meat, put it in the freezer until it’s half-frozen and stiff. This makes it easier to slice. Cut the outer fat off and reserve. Slice the rest against the grain into thin slices. Arrange neatly on a plate.

Cut up the vegetables and put into bowls, ready to go. Take the udon noodles out of their packets Rinse and briefly blanch the shirataki noodles. (The amount of udon noodles depends on whether you will be having rice with the meal or not. If yes, then you only need 1 or 2 packs of udon; if not, then go for more udon.)

Mix all the liquid ingredients for the warishita together and put into a jug or something. Have the sugar ready. (Note: my stepfather just pours each ingredient directly into the pot, but pre-measuring things will probably be easier for beginners)

Set out the burner, the pan, the bowls and utensils We’re ready to go now!

Heat up the pan on the burner, with the reserved piece or pieces of beef fat. Rub the fat around the pan a bit until it’s melting.

Once there’s a good film of melted fat all around the pan, pour in the sugar and mix around a bit. Then add the liquid ingredients. If the pan is hot enough it should boil up almost immediately.

Let it simmer for a bit to evaporate the alcohol in the sake and mirin. Then, add around a quarter or so of the beef slices. (Take out the beef fat pieces at this time.)

These first beef slices plus the beef fat provide the base flavor for sukiyaki, together with the warishita ingredients. Once the beef is cooking, you can start adding the other ingredients. Start with the vegetables and shiitake mushrooms, then add the tofu and shirataki. Remember to scoop out the beef slices and eat them!

Keep eating the vegetables and things as they cook. About halfway through, add the udon (if you add it earlier it can get a bit overcooked, though it will still be very tasty). Now, this is optional, but the standard dipping sauce for sukiyaki is a raw beaten egg. But only do this if you are sure of the quality of your eggs - they should be farm fresh, maybe date-stamped, or pasteurized.

Keep on taking out cooked stuff and putting more stuff in to cook. If the pan gets too dry, just add a bit of water and maybe a bit more soy sauce. Near the end of the proceedings, this is how the pan looks - everything a mellow light brown, having slurped up the goodness of that sauce.

Leftover sukiyaki, mixed with some egg and cooked, is delicious over hot rice. (You could also simmer it in a pan until the liquid is almost evaporated and use it in a bento the next day.)

Variant: Kansai Style Sukiyaki

With Kansai style, you pan fry all the meat before adding everything else. Melt the beef fat in the pan as per the Kanto style, then add the meat slices. Add the sugar to the pan and let it coat the meat. Then add the warishita, and proceed as for the Kanto style. I prefer the Kanto style because I think the meat can get a bit tough with Kansai style - and besides, that’s the method I grew up with. In Kansai style, you often add fu to the pan (reconstitute the fu in water first, squeeze out well, and add to the sukiyaki pot).

Extra: The Sukiyaki Song, which has nothing to do with sukiyaki

In 1963, a Japanese song named The Sukiyaki Song became a no. 1 hit in the U.S., even though it was sung in Japanese by a singer unknown to the west, called Kyu Sakamoto (坂本九). It was called Sukiyaki because some record executive decided that that word would sound Japanese. As the Wikipedia entry says, the original lyrics have nothing to do with sukiyaki - it’s actually a rather sad song about someone walking alone at night with a broken heart. And the original title is 上を向いて歩こう (Ue o muite arukou) - Let’s Walk Looking Upwards. Here are the original lyrics, with my translation:

上を向いて　歩こうよ Let’s walk looking upwards
涙がこぼれないように So that (my) tears don’t fall
思い出す　春の日 (I) remember that spring day (with you)
一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night

上を向いて歩こう Let’s walk looking upwards
にじんだ　星をかぞえて Counting the blurry stars in the sky
思い出す　夏の日 (I) remember the summer day (with you)
一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night

幸せは　雲の上に Happiness is above the clouds
幸せは　空の上に Happiness is above the sky

上を向いて　歩こうよ Let’s walk looking upwards
涙がこぼれないように So that (my) tears don’t fall
泣きながら　歩く (I) walk while crying
一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night

思い出す秋の日　 (I) remember that autumn day (with you)
一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night

悲しみは　星のかげに Sadness is in the shadows of the stars
悲しみは　月のかげに Sadness is in the shadow of the moon

上を向いて　歩こうよ Let’s walk looking upwards
涙がこぼれないように So that (my) tears don’t fall
泣きながら　歩く (I) walk while crying
一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night

一人ぽっちの夜 A lonely night (I am alone tonight)

Here is the original singer, Kyu Sakamoto, singing Ue o muite arukou when he was 22 years old in 1963:

Kyu Sakamoto, known affectionately as Kyu-chan, was very popular throughout his lifetime in Japan as an all around entertainer. I was too young to know him during his singing heyday in the ’60s, and when I did become cognizant of him I rather disliked him because he was known as a do-gooder and self-promoter (he did a lot of charity work (much of it well publicized) which was not really that common for Japanese celebrities). Besides, his singing was considered awfully old fashioned by us kids.

He died tragically in the Japan Airlines Flight 123 crash at the age of 44. Since then, I’ve come to appreciate his unique singing style as well as his persona a lot more. His best songs were those with upbeat music and rather sad or wistful lyrics. Here’s another one of his big hits in Japan, 見上げてごらん　夜の星を　(Miagete goran yoru no hoshi o : Look Up At The Stars In the Sky):

I think he was so popular, especially in the 1960s, because the combination of youthful bravado and cheerfulness tinged with a sadness, even tragedy that he was able to convey, perfectly fit the mood of the times, when Japan was growing as a nation at an alarming pace while experiencing the side effects of such growth such as environmental disasters, stress and alienation. I’m not sure if he’d still be a hit in today’s more cynical Japan though.

Tori Nabe: Japanese Chicken and Vegetable Tabletop Hot Pot

maki — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 19:17:04 +0100

Nabe (鍋, pronounced NA-beh) is the Japanese word for a pot or pan. But it also means a one-pot dish where several ingredients are cooked together in a broth. While nabe can be cooked in the regular way on the stovetop, the most popular kind of nabe are cooked at the table on a portable burner. The quintessential image of a Japanese happy family is one that gathered around the dining table eating a nabe. (Nabe cooked at the table is also called yosenabe (寄せ鍋), which just means a nabe where the ingredients are gathered together (寄せる、yoseru). Because a nabe is piping hot, it’s a great winter meal, with very little preparation.

A lot of Japanese nabe recipes call for ingredients that are only widely available in Japan, but this is a recipe for a nabe that you can recreate wherever you are. It uses chicken and a lot of vegetables, so it’s very healthy and frugal - perfect recession cooking! The only special equipment you need is a tabletop cooker of come kind, that can sustain a boiling heat. See more about tabletop cookers in the Notes at bottom.

Recipe: Torinabe (鶏鍋), Japanese Chicken and Vegetable Tabletop Hot Pot

To serve 4 hungry adults

1 large piece of dried konbu seaweed, or about 1 Tbs. of dashi stock granules or 1-2 regular chicken stock cubes
400g / about 12 oz. boneless chicken, dark or white meat (I used dark meat) cut into cubes
1 block of firm tofu or yakidofu (firm tofu that has been lightly grilled on the outside, available at Japanese grocery stores), cut into chunks (allow for 2 chunks per person)
1 small or 1/2 large chinese/napa cabbage, cut up into chunks
a bunch of green leafy vegetables - I used spinach
1 pack of enoki or staw mushrooms, separated into small bunches
4 large raw shiitake mushrooms, stems cut off (you can use portobello mushrooms instead, sliced - one big one should do it)
The white of 1 leek, sliced
1 pack of fresh or frozen udon noodles, or 2-3 cups of cooked rice, or 1 pack of rinsed and blanched hirataki noodles, or any combination of the three

Condiments:

Soy sauce
Ponzu or yuzu or lemon

Equipment:

Tabletop cooker (see Notes below)
A stable, heavy bottomed pot, ideally one that’s attractive enough for the table (I used a medium size powder blue Le Creuset pot)
Long chopsticks or a long fork or tongs
Ladle
Smallish bowls for serving, one per person. Breakfast cereal sized bowls are good.

Put the piece of konbu seaweed in the pot and fill up halfway with water. (Ideally you want to soak the konbu for a while, so if you can plan ahead put the water and konbu in the pot in the morning or something.) Bring up to a boil. If you can’t get hold of konbu, dashi granules like Hondashi are ok. Or you could even use regular stock cubes or stock powder, though of course it won’t taste as nice. You could even use canned chicken or vegetable stock. Here I’ve used a generous piece of konbu.

Make your ingredients ready in the meantime. Here you see the cut up Chinese cabbage, spinach and enoki mushrooms. (The traditional nabe green vegetable is shungiku (edible chrysanthemum leaves), but that’s not that easy to get outside of Japan, or if you can get it it can be expensive - though look for them at you Asian grocery store. Any green will do though - here I’ve used plain old spinach, but pak choi /bok choy is good, as is Chinese broccoli, Swiss chard, and so on. Use what’s available to you. And the mushrooms can be switched around too - if you can’t get enoki or shiitake, use something else, though white button mushrooms are not that nice in this. Portobellos, chestnut mushrooms, shimeji, maitake - all are good. )

And here’s the chicken. I did leave the skin on but you can take it off if you prefer. 3 ounces / 100g may not seem like much but people will be full! Not pictured: tofu, shiitake, and the sliced leek. (The photographer forgot them.)

When the pot comes to a boil, lower the heat a bit and just start putting the ingredients in. You may want to start with the leeks, then the other vegetables - but really, there are no hard and fast rules. All you need to do is to simmer until done. The tofu and the shiitake benefit from being in the pot longer, so they can soak up the flavors from the broth, which will get more and more flavorsome as the meal progresses. Note: skimming off any scum that rises to the surface will make the broth taste better.

When things get cooked, take them out into the individual bowls with the chopsticks or tongs and the ladle. (In Japan they sell nice short wooden ladles for nabe. See if your local Japanese grocery store carries them.) Each person then adds the condiments to their taste. The traditional ones for tori nabe are ponzu and soy sauce. You can get ponzu at a Japanese grocery store or even at many regular grocery stores in the U.S. these days. If you can’t get it, fresh lemon juice will do. (If you’re in Japan, you can go one step better than ponzu and get a fresh sudachi (すだち, a greenskinned citrus fruit) and squeeze that on. Yuzu juice is nice too.)

Here’s a helping of the hot pot. Lots of vegetables, a little chicken, tofu, and some of that broth.

As the pot gets depleted, just keep adding things until you run out, or until everyone is almost full. Don’t throw out the leftover broth though - that’s the tastiest part of the meal! Usually you would cook some udon noodles in that flavor-packed broth, and serve that to end the meal. I didn’t have any udon noodles on hand, so I just put in some rice. Other things you could put into that last broth: dumplings, shirataki noodles (for the low-carb or dieting crowd), etc. - anything that can slurp up that flavor.

Nabe are great for parties, but they are really easy on the cook too since all you have to do is to cut things up and take out the burner and the pot.

Notes

Tabletop burners are not that expensive, and can be great fun. This type of gas burner is perfect. I use an electric burner since gas cooking is almost unheard of here. It’s similar to this one. The burner has to be able to sustain a boiling heat in the pot. (See if your crockpot can do this.)

Do be careful of little kids around a hot pot and burner on the table! Remember to use a heavy pot that can’t easily be tipped over.

A Proper Swiss Cheese Fondue

maki — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 22:14:20 +0100

Martha passed away on the 26th of December last year. When she was still healthy, we shared many a pot of cheese fondue with her during the cold winter months. Her fondue was without question, the best I’ve ever had anywhere. So in her memory, we made a proper cheese fondue.

I’ve already posted Martha’s fondue recipe 5 years ago (she was still making them then), but since it was one of the very early posts here on Just Hungry, it has no relevant picture to accompany the recipe or anything. To rectify that, here again is Martha’s proper Swiss fondue, with many photos and detailed instructions.

In Switzerland, Fondue is Cheese Fondue

Cheese fondue is a traditional Swiss dish that originated in the Alps, mainly in and around the canton of Valais (French) / Wallis (German). Contrary to popular view outside of Switzerland, it did not originate as an après-ski snack; it’s a hearty peasant dish, using ingredients that were available in the winter: cheese, wine, coarse peasant bread. And since it a traditional dish, it never went ‘out of fashion’ or ‘died out’, as you might think it did if you live in the UK or the US or any place that had the Great Fondue Craze of the ’70s, when a fondue set was a ubiquitous wedding present.

In Switzerland, ‘la fondue’ means a cheese fondue and nothing else. Other types of dip-bits-of-food-in-a-communal-pot dishes are specifically called fondue-something, e.g. fondue bourgignonne (bits of beef filet fried in a pot of oil), fondue chinoise (thin slices of beef or other things cooked in a pot of broth), and so on. (You might be surprised to know that chocolate fondue isn’t that popular in Switzerland. It may be served at touristy restaurants here, but is not a home cooking fixture by any means.)

Finally, fondue is always served as the main dish, not an appetizer or as part of a multicourse meal.

Equipment needed for a proper Swiss cheese fondue

So, what do you need for la fondue? First you need an appropriately shaped pot. The traditional shape is a fairly shallow, rounded ceramic pot with handle, like this one. The critical part is the rounded part, as we’ll see later. This is one of the two pots we have.

You also need something to keep the cheese warm. You actually cook the sauce on the stovetop, so you don’t need a tabletop burner, though you can use one on a low flame. The ideal is a spirit burner, like this one. The pot is suspended over it on the iron frame.

Finally you need fondue forks. Fondue forks are long and thin, perfect for skewering the bread. (Antique chipped hand-me-down plate is optional.)

The cheeses and other things in the sauce

The cheese sauce is usually made up of 2 or more types of cheese. A good moderately aged Gruyère (aged at least 8 to 12 months) is usually one of them, since it has such great flavor.

Another popular cheese is Emmenthaler, the stereotypical ‘Swiss cheese’ with the big holes. Emmenthaler does make the sauce very stringy and somewhat gooey, which can make it a bit hard to handle.

Martha’s preference was to use Vacherin Fribourgeois, which has a full, distinctive flavor and does not make the sauce stringy.

Her secret ingredient was one block of the ‘spreadable cheese’ that comes wrapped in foil triangles in a round cardboard box (e.g. Laughing Cow). The otherwise icky cheese helps all the cheeses melt together and stay together coherently.

The other important components in a fondue sauce are white wine and kirsch. Here in Switzerland, a young Chasselas Romand, aka Fendant, with a slight sourness is used. If you can’t get hold of such a wine, a Sauvignon Blanc will do, perhaps with a squeeze of lemon juice. And kirsch just adds that extra kick.

The bread

In Switzerland, only bread is dipped into the cheese. Any kind of bread with a sturdy crust and a fairly robust crumb is good: a decent baguette, any kind of ‘artisan’ bread. Here we used a Weizenbrot, a hearty country bread. Notice all the pieces are cut so they each have a side with crust.

I guess you could dip other things, but you will still want to have a good quantity of bread. I know people like to dip things like raw or boiled vegetables, apple or pear slices and the like (in Japan they like to dip things like boiled quail eggs, wiener sausages and chikuwa (fish sausage-like things)…), but I think that if you need vegetable crudités or fruit, they are best served alongside the fondue, and to just dip bread in the sauce. (And if you get invited to a Swiss home for fondue, you’ll only get bread in most cases.) If you are gluten-intolerant, use a gluten-free bread.

So, let’s make fondue!

Recipe: Martha’s Cheese Fondue Sauce

This amount of sauce will serve 4 people as the main course. If you only intend to have fondue as part of a bigger meal, adjust the amounts accordingly.

1 garlic clove
50ml / about 1/4 cup kirsh
2 tsp. cornstarch
400 g / a bit less than 1 lb Gruyère cheese (aged at least 8 to 12 months), shredded
400g / a bit less than 1 l Emmenthaler or Vacherin Fribourgeois cheese, shredded (Please use real Emmenthaler. A generic ‘Swiss Cheese’ will not do. Note that in Switzerland you can buy bags of pre-shredded mixed cheese called “Moitié-moitié”, meaning ‘half and half’.)
1 piece of ‘spreadable’ cheese, e.g. Laughing Cow/La Vache Qui Rit (not the mini-Babybel type, the triangular foil-wrapped soft gooey double-creme type)
3 dl / 1 1/4 US cups of young slightly sour white wine such as Chasselas or Sauvignon Blanc

Rub the inside of the fondue pot with the garlic clove. Discard the garlic. (This optional step adds a little extra flavor to the sauce.)

Dissolve the cornstarch in the kirsch. Set aside.

Put the fondue pot on a medium-heat. Add the wine and cheeses. Heat while stirring, until the cheeses melt. Add the kirsch and keep stirring until the sauce is smooth and bubbly. This takes about 20 minutes.

Now, set up your fondue pot stand and burner and transfer the pot to the stand. The burner flame (or tabletop cooker) should just be hot enough that the sauce stays how and just sort of seething on the surface. Any hotter and the cheese will burn on the bottom.

Take a piece of bread, and spear it firmly on the fork so that the crust is on the outside. You can optionally lightly dip it in kirsch at this stage.

Take your speared-bread fork and stir it around in the cheese sauce. Each person should scrape the sides and the bottom of the pot at least once with each go. This prevents the cheese sauce from sticking or burning on the sides. None of that namby-pamby dip-and-go!

Here the bread being used to scrape off the cheese bits that stick to the surface of the pot. Now you see why a rounded-sides pot is ideal; a pot with sharp angles is much harder to scrape around properly.

If you do insist on dipping other things into the sauce, you will just want to dip those lightly, but still use the bread for that stir-wipe action.

(A point of etiquette: Pull the bread off the fork with your teeth, trying not to touch the fork itself with your mouth. And absolutely no double-dipping!)

As the cheese sauce gets less and less, it will get thicker. It’s important to keep stirring-wiping. You may gradually want to lower the flame’s intensity if you can too.

When there’s just a little cheese left in the pot, turn off the heat. Keep scraping off the cheese. If you’ve done it right, you’ll just be left with a small circle of burnt on cheese, which you can carefully pry off. (Note how the pot is scraped almost clean.)

The burned bit is considered to be the final treat of a fondue. A generous cook may cut it up and share it, but a more selfish one (cough) will just pop the whole thing in her mouth.

So, there you have it. A proper Swiss cheese fondue, eaten the Swiss way.

What to drink with a fondue, and what’s for dessert

The same wine that you put into the fondue would be perfect. You could also have kirsch in shot glasses. Martha always served stron black tea, which served as a perfect palate cleanser to counteract the strong taste of the cheese sauce.

The winter fruit salad she also served as dessert (usually just whatever citrus fruits were available, like grapefruit, blood or regular orange, etc.) was a nice refreshing ending to the meal.

If you can’t use alcohol for some reason

Do remember that this sauce is properly cooked on the stovetop, not just heated through until the cheese melts, so most of the alcohol content will evaporate. Swiss kids eat fondue along with the adults and grow up to be fine upstanding citizens. If you can’t have alcohol for religious reasons and so on, this recipe is not for you I’m afraid. To satisfy your cheesy urge, try a bagna cauda - fontina cheese melted in milk. It won’t be the same though.

Sweet Potato, Coconut and Shrimp Miso Soup

maki — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 16:31:25 +0100

This rich fusion-esque soup is something I just came up with while fiddling around with the idea of a bisque-like soup without any cream or milk in it. After a few experiments, I’m happy with this version. I am not lactose-intolerent, but several members of my family are, especially my stepfather. Besides, even those of us with the sturdiest stomachs may have problems when there is tons of butter and cream involved.

This soup also happens to be quite frugal, since I use the shells and heads of peeled fresh shrimp that I stock up in the freezer to make the base stock. You don’t even have to add any actual shrimp, though they can provide a nice texture contrast.

The key to this soup is to balance the sweetness that comes from the sweet potato and coconut milk with the spiciness of the cayenne or chili pepper, plus the sourness of lemon juice.

Recipe: Sweet Potato, Coconut and Shrimp Miso Soup

For the shrimp stock:

About 2 cups of shrimp shells and heads
1 small onion
1 celery stalk
Olive oil
1 bay leaf

Chop up the onion and celery, and sauté in the olive oil until limp. Add the shrimp shells and 5 cups of water. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer. Simmer for about 20 minutes, skimming off the scum that rises to the surface. Strain through a sieve or a colander lined with a cheesecloth or gauze. You will have about 4 1/2 cups of soup stock. It will be more orange if you have more heads.

For the soup:

1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 large sweet potato (I used the white kind, but the orange kind will work too), peeled and chopped up roughly
1/2 large fennel bulb or 1 small fennel bulb, chopped up roughly (If you can’t get bulb fennel, use a couple of stalks of celery finely chopped)
1-2 Tbs. Olive oil
The shrimp stock
1 cup coconut milk (use low-fat if you must, but full-fat will be richer)
2 Tbs. white miso
Juice of 1 lemon
Salt and pepper
Chopped fresh coriander or parsley
Hot red chili powder or cayenne pepper
A few shrimp (optional)

Equipment:

A heavy bottomed pan, or a slow cooker
A stick blender (mine is a 12+ year old Bamix that still works flawlessly)

In a large heavy bottomed pan (an enameled cast iron one such as Le Creuset is ideal) heat up the olive oil and add the onion. Sauté until limp, then add the other vegetables. Sauté until the vegetables are just turning a bit brown around the edges. (If using a slow cooker, do this part in a big sauté pan or frying pan or wok.)

Add the shrimp stock and bring to a boil. Lower the heat, and simmer gently until the vegetables are totally softened, about 30-40 minutes depending on how small you cut your vegetables.

With a stick blender, puree the soup until it’s smooth. A few small chunks in there are fine. You can also puree it in batches in a blender.

Return to the pot and add the coconut milk. Dissolve the miso in a little of the soup, and add to the pot. Add the lemon juice and pepper. Taste and add salt if you think it needs it (probably around a teaspoon may be needed). You can add more lemon juice at this point too.

Optionally add a few small fresh peeled shrimp just before serving, and simmer just until the shrimp are cooked, a couple of minutes.

Serve topped with a sprinkle of hot chili pepper or cayenne pepper (or chopped fresh red chili peppers), and chopped coriander or parsley. Optionally drizzle a bit of basil scented olive oil or even butter on top. The only accompaniment you need is some good bread or plain rice.

Notes

If you want this to have an even thicker texture, add about 2 Tbs. of potato starch or cornstarch dissolved in a little water; simmer until the soup thickens. Add more of the starch-water mixture to your liking.

Layered Cabbage Casserole - Kyabetsu no Kasaneni (an everyday favorite)

maki — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 10:00:42 +0100

Some dishes dazzle you with their prettiness. Others may look plain, but are just plainly delicious. This simple, filling yet healthy winter dish belongs to the latter group.

Stuffed cabbage rolls are a staple of Japanese home cooking, believe it or not. I’ve loved it ever since I was little, but I would beg my mother to make it for me. It’s a perfect winter dish, but it can be just a bit fiddly to make.

This stovetop casserole type dish is called キャベツの重ね煮 (kyabetsu no kasaneni) or stewed layered cabbage. It’s basically a deconstructed cabbage roll, made into a round dome and served sliced into wedges. I’ve called it Layered Cabbage Casserole, because ‘stewed cabbage’ in English brings back memories of the greyish limp stuff served in a pool of water that I occasionally had for school lunch in England. (I usually ate lunch at home, since we lived next door to my school, but sometimes when my mother had to go out she’d pay for me to have school lunch. The only things I remember from those school lunches were terrific sausages, and that grey cabbage goo.)

Layered Cabbage doesn’t look very pretty on its own, though it does make an impressive lump. Sliced into wedges though and served with the cooking liquid, it almost looks like a cake, doesn’t it? The cabbage becomes meltingly soft and infused with the flavors of the stuffing and the poaching liquid, which also becomes the sauce.

Here is the big lump (which looks like a rather flat cabbage), with a wedge cut out of it.

It’s a perfect main dish for a cold winter’s night. It’s also very well suited for the slow cooker.

Recipe: Layered Cabbage Casserole (kyabetsu no kasaneni)

This makes a big ‘cake’, enough for at least 8 servings. This is sort of intentional, because leftovers taste even better the next day. You’ll notice that it combines both Western and Japanese flavors, so it belongs in the yohshoku (imported and adapted Western food) category of Japanese cooking.

1 medium to large cabbage

For the stuffing:

1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 small carrot, finely chopped
1 lb (450g) ground beef, or mixed ground pork and beef (In Japan all pork is used, but in this case I prefer the flavor of beef or a mix)
1 small firm tofu (about 300g / 10.5 oz), crumbled
1 egg
1/2 cup breadcrumbs (or use about 1 cup cooked rice)
1 tsp. salt
Pepper
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

For the sauce/cooking liquid:

About 4 cups Chicken stock (canned or homemade or even stock cubes will do)
3 Tbs. tomato paste
3 Tbs soy sauce
2 Tbs. sake or sweet sherry (you can leave this out if you can’t use alcohol)
1 Tbs. white wine or rice vinegar
1 bay leaf
1 tsp. dried thyme, or a sprig of thyme
Pepper, and additional salt to taste

Equipment: One of the following:

A slow cooker/crockpot
A heavy enamelled cast iron casserole pot such as a Le Creuset
Any heavy-bottomed pot

Plus, a pot lid or heatproof plate that is a bit smaller than the circumference of your pot.

Peel off the cabbage leaves, in as large pieces as possible. Don’t worry if some get torn up though, you can still use them. For presentation purposes, you may want to have at least one or two big, intact leaves to place on the top. You will want to have about 20 leaves worth or more. If the stalk part is very thick, shave them down a bit with a knife or vegetable peeler.

Reserve some of the torn-up cabbage leaves. Blanch the rest of the cabbage leaves for a few minutes in plenty of boiling water. Drain and cool.

While the cabbage leaves cool, make your stuffing by combining all of the stuffing ingredients well.

In the bottom of your pot, put down the uncooked cabbage leaves in a layer. This uncooked cabbage layer will prevent the bottom of your stack of cabbage from burning (if the protective layer burns, you can just throw it out). On top of the uncooked layer, put a layer of cooked cabbage, then a layer of stuffing, and repeat until the pot is almost full. The top layer should be a below the top of the pot, with space enough for that small pot lid or plate to sit on top. For aesthetic purposes, try to make the shape of your stack round like a cabbage, and finish up with a large, intact leaf.

Combine the sauce/liquid ingredients, and pour around the cabbage. The liquid should just barely cover the top of the cabbage cake - add some water if it doesn’t. Add the bay leaf, thyme, pepper and salt if needed. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and place the small pot lid or plate on top of the cabbage. This is to weight it down a bit and ensure that it stays intact. (This technique is used often in Japanese cooking; the small lid is called an 落としぶた　(otoshibuta), meaning ‘dropped lid’.)

Simmer gently for at least 1 hour, or longer. (If using a slow cooker, you can set everything and let it cook all day.)

Taste the sauce/liquid again before serving and adjust the seasoning.

Slice into wedges and serve in a shallow bowl or soup plate with some of the sauce, with plain rice (the Japanese way), or bread.

Notes

The tofu in the stuffing mixture lightens it up. You can omit it and use a bit more meat or vegetable instead.

I have not tried it, but you could probably cook this in a heavy casserole dish in the oven too. Just make sure the surface doesn’t dry out.

Try putting a little bit of miso in the liquid (about a tablespoon) to make it richer.

Recipe: Glühwein, mulled wine for Christmas and wintertime (and a bit about Christmas markets in Europe)

maki — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 20:59:09 +0100

(I've noticed an increasing number of searches for this again. It's that time of year after all. Here in middle Europe, Christmas markets are starting up again in earnest this week, and of course mulled wine (Glühwein) is a must at any Christmas market. In case you can't make it to one, here's my recipe for Glühwein from the archives. How many days to Christmas? Originally published in December 2005, and expanded slightly.)

I have rather mixed feelings about Christmas markets (called Christkindlmarkt in German and Marché de Noel in French), which abound in this part of the world at this time of year. On one hand, they are colorful and seasonal and very festive. But unlike flea markets, which I'm addicted to, and crafts/artisan's markets, the merchandise selection can be a bit mixed. There's an awful lot of touristy junk being sold. They can also be horribly crowded - try going to the Nürnberg (Nurenberg) market on a weekend after 7pm and coming out alive! (Note: I wrote that sentence 3 years ago, but last year I noticed that there was a whole lot less junk and more of the things Christmas market fans love, such as locally crafted items. Maybe people are paying attention to what people want!)

What makes Christmas markets tolerable is Glühwein, which is a mulled wine. Hot, a bit sweet, and spiced, it warms you up nicely as you brace yourself for another round of stall-gazing with more enthusiastic friends and family members pulling you along.

I like to make a potful of Glühwein sometimes at home too. It's a great drink to have after a bracing walk or yet another shopping trip. But the main reason I make it is that it makes the house smell so wonderfully festive.

The base for Glühwein varies - it can be white wine, cider (the alcoholic European kind of cider, not the apple juice of that name sold in North America), or even Jagermeister. I think that a robust red wine works the best though. If you want to up the alcoholic content and fun quotient, add a shot of liqueur like kirsch or pflaumen to each mug. (Don't add the shots to the hot pot or you will get a faceful of knock-out fumes.) No need to stop making it after Christmas either - it's such a warming, fragrant drink that it's served at many ski resorts.

Glühwein, mulled wine

A 750ml bottle of inexpensive dry red wine (no need to splash out on something expensive, but it should be drinkable. I usually just use whatever red wine is on sale at the supermarket.)
2/3 cup of raw cane sugar or white sugar, or non-artificial sweetener of your choice
Juice and peel of one small lemon
2 cardamon pods
4 cloves
2 bay leaves
2 cinnamon sticks

Put everything in a heavy bottomed pan. Stir to melt the sugar. Heat the mixture over low heat, and leave for about an hour - it should never boil, just sort of seethe.

Serve in small mugs (straining out the peel and spices), with optional shot of brandy, kirsch or other liqueur.

Notes: Increase the amount proportionately to serve more people. Vary the sweetener to change the taste - honey is interesting, as is dark brown sugar or molasses.

My take on some Christmas markets in Europe

My favorite big, typically Germanic Christmas markets are the ones at Salzburg, Austria and Strasbourg, France. The decidedly non-Germanic Christmas markets in the Provence, such as the one in Aix-en-Provence, are wonderful too.

If you love Christmas ornaments and things, Nurenberg, the biggest market of them all, is worth at least one visit, though you can buy the same Christmas items in the permanent stores in town without the awful crowds at any time of the year.

The market here in Zürich are a bit lacking if you are looking for Christmas kitsch, though there's a lot of merchandise to browse through. (The town of Zürich itself becomes elegantly decked out for the season.) The Glühwein with raclette combo is mighty tasty though. However, there are many terrific Christmas markets all around the country, especially in small towns. Consult the Swiss Tourism site for a schedule. This year, I plan to go to a lot more Swiss markets.

Drunken Tangy Chicken Wings with Carrots (an everyday favorite)

maki — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 14:46:15 +0200

This is another everyday go-to dish around here. Chicken wings are not nearly as cheap as I remember them being during my frugal student days, due to the popularity of things like Buffalo wings. They’re still a pretty good deal though. While we love crispy oven-fried wings and such, these deeply flavored braised wings are a great leave-to-cook favorite, especially when the weather gets cold.

This is a dish that is very easy to throw together. The only effort involved is in browning the wings and roughly chopping up the vegetables. Besides carrots, you can put in onions, potatoes, turnips, and other root vegetables, though my preference is to keep it relatively simple so that the chicken is the main player, rather than it being a stew. It can be cooked on the stovetop or in a slow cooker - you can’t really overcook it, since the gelatin in the chicken wings keeps everything moist and succulent.

There are nearly 2 cups of alcohol in this, but it doesn’t taste alcoholic in any way. Most of the alcohol cooks away, leaving the flavor and sweetness of the sake, so you can give it to kids without any worries. The vinegar and lemon juice in the cooking liquid cuts down on the fattiness and adds a little underlying tang.

Recipe: Drunken Tangy Chicken Wings

1 kg / 2.2 lbs. chicken wings
4-5 carrots
1 adult thumb sized piece of fresh ginger
1 1/2 cup sake - you could use a moderately sweet white wine instead too, even leftovers
1 1/2 cups water
1/4 cup mirin or sweet sherry
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 Tbs. rice vinegar, or apple cider vinegar
2 Tbs. lemon juice
Sansho pepper or black pepper
Julienned ginger or lemon peel

Suggested equipment: a large frying pan; a heavy bottomed pot like a Le Crueset or an electric slow cooker (crockpot)

Cut the wing tip section of the chicken wings off - save them in the freezer for making a soup. Cut the two remaining sections apart at the joint.

Peel and roughly cut up the carrots into chunks. Peel and finely julienne the ginger.

Put the chicken wings in one layer in the frying pan (add a bit of oil to the pan if it’s not non-stick). Brown the wings on both sides. Take out the wings, drain out any grease in the pan, and return the pan to the heat. Add the ginger and carrots and sauté briefly (the pan should be oily enough still so you don’t need to add more oil).

Put all the liquid ingredients into a pan and bring to a boil. Put the chicken, vegetables, and liquid all into the cooking pot you’ll be using. If you are using a crockpot/slow cooker, you can just set it to cook for at least 2 hours. If cooking on the stovetop, lower the heat to a simmer and cook for 1 hour with a pot lid smaller than the one that came with the pot sitting right on top of the contents (an otoshi-buta - see the end notes here) with sansho pepper or black pepper, and optionaly garnish with finely julienned ginger or lemon peel. (If you can get a hold of it, yuzu peel is extra nice).

You can store this in the refrigerator for a few days, immersed in the cooking liquid. The liquid will firm up into a dark jelly-like state, which you can use as a basis for soup or sauce (scrape off the fat that will form on the surface).

To serve, arrange the chicken pieces on your serving dish or bowl, and arrange the carrots attractively around. Serve with hot rice and a side salad or a vegetable side dish (broccoli with wasabi sauce goes particularly well). Also good in bento, well drained of the cooking liquid.

Oden, a Japanese stew or hotpot

maki — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 12:21:51 +0100

Happy New Year! If you live in Japan, you are probably still in holiday mode. Elsewhere though, chances are you’re back to your normal routine. That’s where I am now - back to work!

I often get requests for various popular Japanese recipes. I keep on thinking I’ve written up so many of them already, until someone asks for one and I think “why didn’t I put that up already?”. One such recipe is for oden, a very popular Japanese stew dish that is especially suited to winter. Traditionaly it’s made in a donabe or pottery pot, but it’s not a requirement to use one. It’s simmered slowly, so is perfect for a crockpot or my favorite for stewing anything, a Le Creuset-type of cast iron enamelled pot.

While I always strive to list recipes here that people without easy access to Japanese groceries can make, oden is an exception. Most of the main ingredients for oden are so time consuming to make from scratch, that you just have to buy them. I have tried to make my own satsuma age and hanpen, with decidedly mixed results. It’s really hard to grind the fish down to a finely textured paste, even with a food processor. I do freqently make my own ganmodoki, tofu fritters (recipe here), but prefer to eat freshly made ones as-is, crispy and hot.

So, I just buy a selection of oden no mi (oden ingredients). Here’s a selection:

My local Japanese grocery store (Nishi’s Japan Shop in Zürich) is tiny, but I could still assemble a good variety there. You can even buy complete oden sets, but I prefer to buy the individual items, which I supplement with some other ingredients.

Oden no mi

Here are some commonly used oden no mi that you would buy in packets. They are usually in the refrigerated or frozen food sections. The fish paste items are called nerimono.

Various kinds of deep fried fish paste items. The most traditional is Satsuma age, which are burger shaped. There are also Ika balls - fish paste ‘meatballs’ with a piece of squid inside, sausage-shaped ones with a piece of burdock (gobo) inside, and so on. They all have a golden brown color.
Chikuwa is fish paste shaped like a piece of bamboo (the name means “bamboo ring”), and grilled. There are various grades of chikuwa, but for oden the cheapest kind is fine.
Hanpen is also fish paste, which has been combined with yamaimo, a kind of tuber and egg whites. It’s puffy and light, like a pillow shaped quenelle, and is one of my favorites.
Naruto is wheat flour paste that’s been formed into a tube. It’s often colored pink and white. Naruto is also used as a ramen topping. It’s not a favorite of mine, but my mother loves it.
Ganmodoki - deep fried tofu fritters (a recipe, if you want to make them from scratch). The one thing that is not that hard to make.
Konnyaku (a detailed description)

To these, people often add:

Deep fried thin tofu (abura age), the same that is used to make inarizushi, stuffed with chopped vegetables, shirataki, and so on, then tied up with a piece of kanpyo (dried gourd) to resemble a kinchaku, or money purse.
Hard boiled eggs
Pieces of daikon radish
Potatoes

I usually skip the tofu purses, but add one egg per person and lots of daikon, plus carrots.

In case you are wondering if all those fish paste items will make it taste ‘fishy’, it doesn’t at all. Kids in Japan love oden, and your adventurous kids may too!

Oden, the easy way

This makes a big pot, which can be eaten all at once or over a few days. Oden, like most stews, deepens in flavor the more it’s reheated. Keep it in the fridge in between reheatings though.

Note that while it takes its time to cook, your actual kitchen working time is quite short and easy.

1 large piece of dried kombu seaweed. The larger, the better. Use a whole leaf if you can.
Water
A selection of packaged oden ingredients - the amount depends, but try to have at least one piece per person of ganmodoki and satuma age, and a few each of things like the squid balls. Allow for one to two pieces of konnyaku per person (each block of konnyaku can be cut into 4 triangles).
1 medium sized daikon radish
1 hard boiled egg per person
Optional: carrots, potatoes
Dried mustard powder (English mustard powder like Colman’s is fine, or the equivalent from an Asian grocery. Prepared mustard like Dijon-style is not suited.)

Put the kombu in enough water to cover it completely. Let soak for at least 20 minutes.

Put the water and the kombu in a donabe or large stewing pot. Heat until it’s nearly boiling but not bubbling violently.

In the meantime, peel the daikon and cut into fairly large pieces (usually it’s just cut into rounds about 2 cm / about 1 inch thick). Cut up the carrots into fairly large pieces too. Potatoes should be added later.

Cut the konnyaku into triangles, and blanch for a few minutes in boiling water. Drain.

Add the daikon, carrots and konnyaku into the pot, adding more hot water if needed to cover. Let simmer until the vegetables are tender, for at least an hour, or more. The kombu should become quite soft.

Add the potatoes if you are using them, about 40 minutes before serving time.

Add the hardboiled eggs and the packaged ingredients, except for the hanpen. Simmer for at least 20 minutes.

Add the hanpen in the last 5 minutes or so.

Mix the mustard powder with a little water to reconstitute into a paste.

To serve, cut up the kombu - you should be able to do this in the pot with a spatula. Serve each person a good selection of the things in the pot, including pieces of kombu - or let them serve themselves, with a little bit of the broth. (We often used to fight about someone having more ganmodoki than they were alloted and things like that.)

Each person should take a small spoonful of the mustard and mix it into the broth if they like. If it’s not salty enough, just drizzle a bit of soy sauce. Eat with hot rice, or sake.

Hayashi raisu (rice): Japanese beef stew

maki — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 07:59:03 +0100

I have not added a yohshoku (Japanese-adapted Western food) recipe in quite some time. The main reason for this is I haven’t been making any…since most yohshoku dishes tend to be a bit heavy on the butter or cream or rich sauces.

I do sometimes crave this classic yohshoku dish. Hayashi raisu (or hayashi rice) is a Japanese version of a rich beef stew, and in terms of popularity it’s second only to the mighty curry rice, Japanese style curry. Just like curry, you can buy hayashi raisu roux blocks at Japanese grocery stores (look in the curry roux section).

Incidentally, the hayashi part sounds like the Japanese word for a wood (as in a smaller version of a forest), but it’s derived from “hashed”, as in hashed beef. I think the origins are a hashed beef stew. I can see influences from beef bourgignon, stroganoff and various British stews in there.

The beef used is not tough old chewy meat - it’s usually made from cuts that are tender enough to be cooked quickly. The kind sold for ‘minute steaks’ is fine. Sukiyaki beef is great if you can afford it. I’ve seen recipes around that suggest using pork instead of beef, but…that’s just not right to me. Hayashi rice = beef! Beef!

Making hayashi rice from scratch can be easy or tremendously complicated, depending on one thing: whether you make your own demi-glace or not. Demi-glace is reduced, concentrated beef stock that is thick and paste-like. In Japan you can buy demi-glace in cans. You can buy it elsewhere too, though the good kinds can be very expensive. The only other substitute is to make your own strong beef stock from beef bones, meat trimmings and so on and reduce it down and so on. Using stock cubes just won’t do it, I’m afraid, and forget about the usually insipid beef stock in a carton or can.

I’ve given instructions for making hayashi rice from handy roux blocks (which can vary in quality) and using demi-glace.

Hayashi raisu (Hayashi rice)

450g / 1 lb thinly sliced beef
4 medium onions, thinly sliced
About 10-12 mushrooms, sliced
1 medium carrot, thinly sliced
Butter or oil
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 cup (240ml) red wine
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 Tbs. Worcestershire sauce or Bulldog chuunou sauce
1 Tbs. soy sauce
Parsley or green peas for garnish

The sauce ingredients:

1/2 cup demi-glace or 4 cups strong beef stock
1 16-oz or 440g can of canned tomatoes
1 Tbs. tomato paste
2 Tbs. butter
3 Tbs. flour
Water

6 blocks (or more if you like it thick) from a hayashi rice roux packet
Water

Equipment: a large frying pan or sauté pan, a heavy bottomed pot for stewing or a crockpot

Cut the meat up into bite-sized pieces. Heat up a frying pan with butter, oil or combination of both, and sauté the beef until browned. Take out the meat and set aside.

In the same pan, add a bit more butter (no this is not diet food) and add the onions. Sauté over medium-low heat until limp and slightly brown. Add the garlic, mushrooms and carrot. Sauté until the mushrooms are turning limp.

Put all the vegetables in a heavy-bottomed stew pot (a crockpot will do nicely too).

Add the wine. If you’re using the hayashi rice roux blocks, add about 4 cups of water (don’t add the roux at this point yet). If you’re using the other sauce ingredients, add either the demi-glace plus 3 cups of water, the canned tomato and tomato paste, or 4 cups of strong beef stock and the canned tomato and tomato paste. Add the bay leaves and thyme.

Let it all simmer until the liquid has reduced to about half. Add the beef to the pot and contine simmering - the beef should be very tender.

If you’re making your own sauce, make a roux by melting 2 Tbs. of butter in the frying pan and adding the flour. Stir until the flour is grainy and a little bit browned. Add to the stew and stir. Add the Worcestershire sauce and soy sauce.

If using the roux blocks, add them now and stir well to melt.

Add a little water or stock to thin out if it looks too thick. Simmer a few minutes.

Taste and add salt or pepper as needed. Take out the bay leaves.

Serve over rice that’s been mixed with a little salted butter. Garnish with chopped parsley or a few green peas.

This makes 6 to 8 servings.

Hayashi omuraisu

Leftover hayashi makes a very rich sauce for omuraisu (rice omelettte) instead of ketchup. Use plain buttered rice instead of ketchup-chicken rice as the filling.

Buta no kakuni: Japanese Braised Pork Belly

maki — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 15:42:34 +0100

Today is my mother’s birthday. In her honor, here is one of the few meat dishes that she still allows in her diet: braised pork belly, or buta no kakuni. It’s amazing that she will still eat this, because basically pork belly is bacon without the smoke or salt cure. And in buta no kakuni the bacon, I mean belly, comes in big chunks of layers of meat and unctuous pork fat.

Pork belly recipes exist in other cuisines, especially around northern Europe, but I can’t really stand most of them, even if people in Germany and Britain rave about roasted pork belly with crackling. (The crackling part is ok, but the meat part…I don’t know.) I like fat in moderation as much as anyone, but that amount of gelatinous pork fat is rather hard to bear. That is unless it’s been slowly braised in a salty-sweet liquid for hours and hours, until both the fat and the meat melt in your mouth.

Very similar recipes exist in Chinese (from Peking-style especially) cuisine, and a great Okinawa speciality is rafute. This is a bit like rafute but has a bit more spice and things in it, so it’s closer to the Peking style I think. Either way it’s a great treat once in a great while. It’s definitely a cold weather dish.

Buta no kakuni (Japanese braised pork belly)

About 450g / 1 lb pork belly
2 Tbs sugar
1 piece of leek (about 6 inches / 15 cm long or so. You can use the green part too.)
1 large piece of fresh ginger
1 star anise
3 Tbs. soy sauce
2 Tbs. sake
2 cups water

Cut the pork into cubes about 1 inch / 2cm or so square. If the skin is still on, leave it on. Heat up a large pot with a heavy bottom. Sauté the pork belly cubes, without any added fat (you don’t need it…) until browned.

When the meat is browned, scrape it to one side and put the sugar in the fat that’s accumulated on the bottom, and stir around until it’s a bit caramelized. Stir and toss so the meat gets coated by the sugar.

Add the rest of the ingredients, bring to a simmer and lower the heat. Put a lid on and let it simmer gently for about 3 hours, turning occasionally.

To serve, dredge the pieces carefully out of the very oily cooking liquid, and peel of the thick layer of fat that’s on the skin side of the meat. Drizzle a little bit of the cooking liquid over the cubes.

We have this with very plain vegetables, like broccoli with wasabi sauce. Pickles (oshinko) are good to have too. Hot, plain rice is essential. To eat, take a small piece and put it on top of your hot rice, and let the sauce and fat sort of melt in. A little goes a long way.

A bit about my mom, Michiko

She’s in her mid 60s now, but one of the youngest and spryest ladies in her 60s that I know. She loves food, but unfortunately since retiring a few years ago she developed a very severe case of IBD (we suspect it’s due to the stress she went through when she was running a busy restaurant in midtown Manhattan), and really has to watch what she eats. Nevertheless she really enjoys life…often I’m not sure who’s the mother, she or I! Here she is bouncing happily with some buskers at the Nurenberg (Germany) Christmas market last year.

One thing that is great about her is that she brings a fresh sense of enthusiasm to everything. Whenever she comes to visit me in Switzerland, I get to see things through her eyes, so that even in the throes of grey, dull winter in Zürich, life seems to be fun again. It’s great to have a mother like that.