Renkon Manju: Lotus Root Dumplings
First some etymology: “renkon” is what we call the root of the lotus flower plant, while manju, less poetically, means something like “round bun”. What we have here, in fact, is a shrimp-infused dumpling made with a dough of grated lotus root. Place one of these in a bowl under sauce and you’ve made a blockbuster side-dish. Put two of them in a bowl and what you have is a deeply satisfying main.
When we lived in Europe, we had a really hard time sourcing fresh lotus roots, but here in Montreal it’s no problem: they always seem to have them at Kim Phat. That means we’re able to make lotus root tempura, which is a particular favorite of mine, as well as braised lotus root (kimpira), which is also very good. But renkon manju is in a league of its own: a truly special delicacy.
Don’t let this recipe intimidate you, though: after you’ve done it once or twice you’ll find it’s much easier than you imagine.
Sanma-no kabayaki: Braised Pacific Saury Fillets
Here’s another recipe featuring my favorite fatty fish: pacific saury (sanma). This one involves rather more than just grilling: “Kabayaki” is a braising technique for fish fillets that uses a sweetened soy sauce mixture similar to what you would use as a marinading liquid for teriyaki.
Classically, kabayaki is a way of cooking freshwater eel. If you’ve been to a Japanese restaurant in England you’ve probably run into Kabayaki as “unagi-don” or “unadon” - eel-on-rice. It’s great; a classic restaurant dish.
In this recipe, we use Pacific Saury instead of eel for two very good reasons. First, eel spoils almost as soon as it’s out of the water, making it virtually impossible to cook at home (unless you have a large fish tank, some sharp knives and a fair bit of gumption!) Second, eel is expensive. Sanma, on the other hand, is not only delicious but affordable, too: so Saury Kabayaki is kind of like poor man’s Eel Kabayaki.
It’s a powerful dish, sure to impress friends, and very good when served “donburi” style: in a large bowl over plain white rice.
Okra Aemono: Seasoned Boiled Okra
How many words from the Igbo language of West Africa have made their way into both standard English and everyday Japanese? I bet Okra is the only one!
“Okra?! What’s that?” It’s a fair question. If you live in Europe, Latin America, the US North or Canada, you may have never seen this odd-looking plant. It has certainly spread unevenly around the globe: by now its fleshy pods are a staple in East Africa, the Middle East, South Asia, the American South and in Japan, but for some odd reason hardly used in China!
This recipe makes for a quick, very healthy and flavourful side dish.
It’s particularly tasty mixed together with natto (fermented soybeans) and served as a topping for white rice. But if like many people (including many Japanese) you are not a big fan of natto, you can serve Okra Aemono on its own over rice. Delish.
Happiness, 41.2 milliliters at a time…
[Kanako's husband here, pitching in a cheeky little post without her knowledge.]
Back in November, we bought this monstruous, one gallon jerrycan of Kikkoman soy sauce at the big Angel Seafoods sale in Montreal. Just to look at the thing in our shopping cart, I couldn’t really imagine how we’d ever finish it.
And yet today, just 92 days later, that jug officially ran out!
That’s an average of 41.2 milliliters a day of soy-y goodness. Or, for the less metrically inclined among you, 1.38 fluid ounces – or 2.8 tablespoons – of the stuff each and every day.
Bliss!
Inari
Inari is sushi, but not as you know it. Variously called Inari, Oinari-san, or Inarizushi, it’s made by filling Abraage pockets with Sushi-rice. As I wrote some time ago, in Japan people don’t really make sushi at home very often (see: Fight the Sushi Monoculture), however Inari is the exception. This is not a fancy dish; it’s a popular food you make and eat at home.
The other day when I was talking with my mother on the phone, she told that she made Inari for dinner. This made me all nostalgic and I got inspired to make Inari, too.
Tradition says that the name inari came from a Japanese shinto divinity that is often associated with a fox. The favorite food of this sacred fox was Aburaage. Sacred foxes or no, historic documents show Inari was already a popular form of sushi in the mid-1800s.
Ebi Lettuce Itame: Stir-fried Shrimp with Lettuce
Yes, you read that right, what we have here is stir-fried lettuce. I know it sounds strange, but just trust me on this one. Although the lettuce seems withered, you’ll see it remains surprisingly crunchy and delicious after cooking.
Simply seasoned with salt, pepper and fresh ginger, Ebi Lettuce Itame is a delightfully “assari” dish. This is one of those hard-to-translate terms: it means subtly flavored, delicately textured and light all around. Japanese culinary culture puts a big premium on this sort of thing – subtle, refreshing dishes that won’t leave you feeling weighed down or overstuffed. I guess this isn’t necessarily that fashionable in Western cooking, but in Japan calling a dish “assari” is high praise indeed.
So when you want something light but still more consistent than a salad, try some stir-fried shrimp with Lettuce.
Okonomiyaki: Osaka-Style Cabbage Pancakes
Some Japanese dishes just defy categorization, and none more so than okonomiyaki. In the West, I’ve seen it described in restaurant menus as Japanese Pancakes, Japanese Omelettes, even as Japanese Pizza – which, frankly, is only confusing.
Pay no attention. Analogies fail. In any case, the point is not the pancake itself, but the special sauce, which is what makes okonomiyaki taste a lot like…okonomiyaki!
The recipe I’m sharing here is for Osaka-style okonomiyaki, the city’s signature dish. Though I’ve seen fancy London restaurants serve it as an exotic delicacy (and charge upwards of 12 pounds for one!), in Osaka there’s nothing fancy about it: it’s a cheap, filling, flavorful meal young people adore.
Having grown up in the Kansai region, okonomiyaki is definitely “home cooking” for me. I even went to university in Osaka, and considering college students probably eat more okonomiyaki than anyone, I’ve certainly had more than my share. But you don’t have to be from Kansai: I’ve found that this is the one Japanese dish that just about every western person enjoys. Even Canadian children, who wouldn’t think of eating most of the weird things I put on this blog, love okonomiyaki.
Though it’s undoubtedly junk food, Osaka people take their okonomiyaki pretty seriously. In this recipe, I try to share a lot of secret little tips and tricks (marked in bold type) so you can make Okonomiyaki like a pro from your first try.
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