Just Hungry - Japanese recipes, healthy and fun eating, the expat food life and more.

Vegetable Tempura

maki — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 07:24:41 +0000

I’ve never really been good at making tempura, the quintessential Japanese deep fried dish. My mother’s tempura has always been terrific - crispy, light, and not greasy at all. So, taking advantage of her extended vacation here this year, I drilled her properly on how she makes tempura.

Her method does not rely on special tempura flour (cheap in Japan but expensive or hard to get a hold of elsewhere), or other recently touted additions like vodka or other high-alcohol liquor, so anyone should be able to do it. Just follow the key points listed below.

Point no. 1: Use the freshest ingredients you can find

The light tempura batter is meant to enhance the flavors of the vegetables or shrimp or squid and so on that is being fried, not mask it. So the fresher your ingredients are, the better your tempura will be.

Point no. 2: Dry the surface of the ingredients completely

This is a point often missed in other directions for tempura. In order to keep the tempura batter crisp, it’s important to make the surface of the things you’re frying very dry. My mother cuts up her vegetables at least half an hour beforehand, and spreads them out in a single layer on kitchen towels or paper towels and puts them near a sunny window. (Since this article is about vegetable tempura I’ll leave the subject of how to prep shrimp or squid for another time, but squid is actually allowed to dry out for several hours in the refrigerator, and shrimp is patted dry with kitchen or paper towels.)

Point no. 3: Use ice cold water for your batter, and don’t mix it much

The flour in tempura batter is just there to hold the other ingredients together. It should not be allowed to develop gluten, which leads to heavy, doughy batter. Therefore, you should always use ice cold water with ice cubes in it for the batter, and not mix it too much. A few ice cubes and lumps of flour floating in the batter are fine - they won’t stick to the food you’re dipping in the batter anyway.

Point no. 4: Don’t overcrowd your oil

You should keep the frying oil at a constant high temperature. If you put too much in at once, you will lower the temperature, which can make the tempura soggy and oil-logged.

Point no. 5: Don’t make too much at one time

At a tempura-specialist restaurant, your tempura is fried right in front of you and served immediately. They only fry a little bit at a time. That’s the ideal way to do tempura. At home, you could stand at the stove making individual portions for everyone else, but if you don’t want to do that just make a small batch at a time and try to eat it immediately, even if you have to stand up again to fry another batch. (This is why I think tempura is really ideal as an appetizer, rather than a main course, in Western-style meal structures. It’s easier to make appetizer-sized portions and eat it right away.)

Point no. 6: Don’t fuss with the tempura once it’s in the oil

There’s not need to keep flipping over your tempura over and over. This just lowers the surface temperature unnecessarily. Let the hot oil do its work! Just flip over once if needed.

Point no. 7: Drain the oil very well.

If you hold the tempura piece for a few seconds just above the oil, with a bit of the end still in the oil, the oil will drain off a lot better. Then transfer the tempura piece to the draining setup that is explained later. Some people transfer the tempura to a second draining setup (with fresh paper, etc.) to drain off even more oil

With these points in mind, here is my mother’s tempura recipe.

Recipe: Vegetable Tempura

For 2 main dish or 4 appetizer portions

Use whatever seasonal vegetables you have. These are what we had in late June in southern France. See the end for some other vegetable suggestions.

1 small sweet potato
2 small eggplants/aubergines
About 9 baby zucchini, or 2 regular sized zucchini
8 green shiso leaves
1 medium carrot
A handful of green beans

For the batter:

1 egg
A jug of ice water
3 Tbs. cake flour or all-purpose flour (not bread flour)
1 Tbs. corn or potato starch

Oil for frying (My mother prefers rapeseed oil (natane abura 菜種油). You can also use sunflower, corn or peanut oil.)

Cut the sweet potato into rounds with the skin on. Take the blossom end off the eggplants, and slice into wide strips lengthwise. (If you have a fat Western style eggplant, cut into rounds as with the sweet potato.) Leave the baby zucchini whole, just cutting off the blossom ends; cut regular zucchini into wide strips. Leave the shiso leaves whole. Cut the carrot into matchsticks. Leave the green beans whole, just cutting off the tops and tails.

Spread out the cut vegetables into a single layer on kitchen or paper towels, and leave to dry out on the surface for at least half an hour. The uncut baby vegetables and so on should not need to be dried, but should be totally dry on the surface.

Just before you are ready to start frying, mix up the batter. If your egg is a ‘small’ size, use 250 ml of ice water (or 5 times the amount of egg). If you have a ‘large’ egg you’ll need a tad more water. Mix the egg and water together, then add the flours, mixing rapidly with chopsticks or a fork. Do not try to get rid of all lumps, and floating ice cubes are fine - they’ll help to keep the batter cool.

Pour the oil into a suitable container, no more than 1/3th of the way full for safety. A tip here: Use a heavy pot that retains heat well. A cast iron enamelled pot such as Le Creuset is ideal. In Japan, most people deep fry in a wok - a proper wok made of iron is good because it retains heat well. Don’t use a cheap thin pan. For very small amounts you can also use a frying or sauté pan with fairly high sides. (Neither of us owns a dedicated deep fat fryer nor do we want to make the space for one in our kitchens.)

Heat up the oil. You can use a thermometer if you like, in which case you should heat up the oil to about 175°C or 350°F. Otherwise you can see if the oil is hot enough by dropping a bit of batter in the oil. If the batter blobs drop down and them come shooting up to the surface immediately, the oil is hot enough.

Make ready a large plate or tray lined with newspapers covered with kitchen towels, or a draining rack.

Larger pieces or whole vegetables should be dipped in the batter individually; smaller pieces like the matchstick carrots or the green beans are usually fried in little bundles, dipped in the batter and then into the oil with chopsticks. Start with the more delicate vegetables first, such as the shiso leaves, which only take a few seconds. Proceed to the harder vegetables, ending up with things like the sweet potato slices. Don’t overcrowd the oil pot - be patient, and only do 3 to 4 pieces at at time!

The amount of time each thing should be cooked depends on the vegetable. As mentioned, very delicate thin things only need a few seconds, while hard vegetables need a few minutes. You’ll learn how long things need to be fried by experience, but if you’re not sure just take a piece and cut or bite into it.

Drain each piece on the prepared draining plate or try. Don’t stack the pieces on top of each other, or the pieces underneath will just soak up the oil from above!

Serve tempura when it’s piping hot, for maximum crispiness.

How to present tempura

Tempura is often served on a piece of absorbent paper called a kaishi (懐紙), folded attractively. You can use a piece of plain, unprinted paper with absorbent qualities, such as untreated drawing paper (which is what I used in the photo above), plain white paper napkins, and so on. Otherwise, just arrange it attractively on a plate.

What to serve with tempura

For vegetable tempura, my favorite condiment is just some sea salt, sprinkled on. You could add a few drops of lemon juice too, though this isn’t traditional. You can also use tentsuyu, which is just a slightly thinned out version of soba tsuyu or soba dipping sauce (thin out with a bit of dashi stock). Grated daikon radish is often added to tentsuyu.

Leftover tempura

Leftover tempura can be crisped up in a toaster oven or regular oven. Just spread out in a single layer and bake for about 5 to 10 minutes until it’s a slightly darker shade of brown.

Japanese people love soggy-on-purpose tempura too, especially in the form of tendon, which is just tempura on top of rice with some mentsuyu poured over it in its simplest form. Tendon is best made with freshly fried tempura, but you can use leftover tempura too.

What vegetables can you use for tempura?

Basically, anything that is in season can be used. Harder vegetables should be cut thinner or smaller so that they cook faster. Some examples, both traditionally Japanese and not so traditional:

Traditional:

Sliced onions
Green onions, cut into about 1/2 inch / 1cm pieces (fry in little bundles mixed with matchstick carrots)
Green shiso leaves (red shiso is too bitter)
Chrysanthemum leaves and shungiku
Green beans
Snow peas
Sweet potatoes (the white or orange kind)
Eggplant/aubergine
Kabocha squash
Shishito peppers (slightly spicy)
Burdock (gobo)
Carrots
Fava beans (soramame)

Not very traditional:

Green asparagus - cut into about 2 inch / 4 cm lengths
Parsley leaves
Sage leaves
Thai basil
Watercress
Arugula (rucola/rocket)
Green peas
Zucchini
Slightly unripe, firm tomatoes (cut into wedges and deseed)
Potatoes (cut into rounds or wedges)
Sweet peppers (cut into strips)
Jalapeño peppers (whole or cut into half and deseeded)
Firm banana (cut into chunks) - I’ve never tried plantain but that could work too

Basics: Cold soba noodles with dipping sauce

maki — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 16:06:51 +0000

I’ve updated this very popular article a little bit and pushed it up from the archives, since it is the season for cold noodles now. I’ll also have a followup recipe soon for the perfect accompaniment to zaru soba. Originally published in May 2007.

Most of Japan gets very hot and humid in the summer. To combat the heat, a number of dishes meant to be eaten cold have been developed. One of the main cold summer dishes is cold noodles.

Soba noodles, made of soba (buckwheat), are available all year round but are really popular when the heat turns unbearable. As with other cold noodles, they are prepared in a way that may seem strange if you’re used to pasta and other Western-style noodles. Unlike pasta, most Japanese noodles, including soba, are rinsed rather vigorously in cold running water. This not only cools them down but gets rid of excess starch, which adversely affects the flavor of the noodles. Many recipes written in English omit this critical rinsing step: you don’t just plunge it in cold water, as many directions incorrectly state, but you actively wash the noodles. Once you’ve done this once, you will definitely notice the difference. I’ve given detailed instructions for this procedure below.

Dipped into a properly made sauce or soba tsuyu, with plenty of spicy condiments or yakumi, there’s nothing more refreshing to eat on a hot summer evening.

Cold soba noodles with dipping sauce (Zarusoba)

Note: zaru means basket - so these are soba served in a basket.

To serve 4 people

For the sauce (soba tsuyu):

1/2 cup of kaeshi
1 1/2 to 3 cups of dashi stock or vegetarian dashi stock

Combine the two in a pan and bring up to a simmer. The less dashi you add the more intense the sauce will be, so add the dashi a little at a time, and start tasting after you’ve added about 1 1/2 cups: keep adding if it’s too strong. Simmer for 2-3 minutes, then let cool. You can do this a day ahead of time, and refrigerate the tsuyu.

Quick and easy version: Buy a bottle of concentrated tsuyu or mentsuyu, such as this one from Kikkoman, and thin out with water.

The noodles:

400g soba noodles, or about 100 grams per person (See note below about selecting soba noodles). Most soba comes in 100 or 200 gram packets.

Condiments, or yakumi:

Select at least one from:

Finely chopped green onions (this for me is essential)
Grated wasabi
Seven-flavor pepper (nanami tohgarashi = see this list for a description)
Toasted sesame seeds
Finely shredded green shiso leaves (another favorite for me, if it’s available)
Finely cut nori seaweed (cut with a pair of kitchen scissors, or just shred with your hands)
Grated fresh ginger
Finely julienned myouga (a kind of onion-like bulb: hard to find outside of Japan)
Finely grated yuzu peel

Cooking the soba noodles

Bring a large pot of water up to a boil. Unlike Italian pasta, you do not need to salt the water. Once it’s boiling, hold the noodles over the water and sprinkle them in strand by strand.

Once all the noodles are in, stir gently so that they are all immersed in the water.

Bring the water back up to a gentle boil, then lower the heat so that the water is just simmering. (This differs from the ‘rolling boil’ that’s recommended for pasta.) If the water threatens to boil over, add about 1/2 cup of cold water (but if you lower the heat to the gentle simmer, and have a big enough pot, this shouldn’t be necessary). Cook for about 7 to 8 minutes, or following the package directions (for thinner noodles 5 to 6 minutes may be enough. Test by eating a strand - it should be cooked through, not al dente, but not mushy either).

At this point, you may want to reserve some of the cooking water. This is called sobayu (そば湯), literally ‘hot soba water’, and many people like to add it to the remaining soba dipping sauce at the end of the meal to drink like soup!

Drain the noodles into a colander. Immediately return them to the pot and fill the pot with cold water. When you’re draining the hot water you may notice that it smells quite ‘floury’. This is what you want to get totally rid of.

If the noodles threaten to flood out over the pot, put the colander on the pot to hold the noodles down. Leave the water running for a while over the noodles.

Once the water and the noodle are cool, start to ‘wash’ the noodles. Take handfuls and gently swish and rub them in the water. Your goal is to wash off any trace of starchiness or gumminess on the noodles. When you’re done the water should run clear.

Make ready a flat sieve - a bamboo one is ideal and looks pretty. (You can use a nice looking colander instead, but flat sieves like this aren’t expensive - look in Asian markets.) Take a few strands of the noodles at a time.

Loop the strands onto the sieve to make a nice little bundle. This is one portion.

Allow for about 10-12 portions or so per person, if you’re using individual sieves. Arrange each bundle separately, to allow for easy pickup with chopsticks.

To serve the noodles: place a plate under the sieve or sieves to catch any drips. Put out small bowls filled with the condiments of your choice, which each diner can pick from. (Remember to put out small spoons and things if needed for the sesame seeds etc.)

The dipping containers can be anything that can hold about a cup or so of liquid. A rice bowl or a small soup bowl, or even a tumbler, can be used. Here I’ve used some small pudding molds that were a flea market find. (In Japan you can get special soba bowls or sobachoko.)

Fill each dipping bowl halfway with the cooled dipping sauce or soba tsuyu.

To eat, each person puts in the condiments of their choice, take a portion of the soba, and dips it in the sauce briefly - then, immediately eats the soba. Don’t let the noodle soak in the sauce or overload it with condiments, otherwise the delicate flavor of the soba will be overwhelmed.

At the end of the meal, you can add some of the reserve sobayu to the rest of your sauce (see above) to finish your meal.

Types of soba

The purest kind of soba noodle is made of 100% soba or buckwheat flour, plus water and salt. That’s really my favorite kind. There are other kinds of soba noodles though. Here I’ve used one made partly with konnyaku powder (which makes it quite sturdy, and supposedly lower-calorie).

Another popular kind of soba noodle has some green tea powder in it, which makes it a pleasant green in color. You don’t really taste the tea much though.

The best kind of soba noodle is freshly made (te-uchi), but this is a bit tricky…I haven’t actually mastered it yet. Maybe one day…

What to have with soba noodles

One of my favorite summer meals is cold soba, cold tofu or hiyayakko, some not-too-salty pickled cucumbers, and ice cold mugicha to drink. Another favorite soba accompaniment is tempura, which can be dipped in the same sauce - for some reason tempura (battered fritters of vegetables, squid, shrimp and so on) seems to fit particularly well. But tempura is a rather hot and sweaty thing to make, so I usually stick to the cold tofu.

My Mother's Simply Braised Spring Vegetables with a hint of Japan

maki — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 12:52:08 +0000

Here’s another recipe from my mother. She just told me the recipe, and the reminiscences, verbally, (she says the recipe is too simple to write down!); I’ve written it down in the first person, from her point of view.

When I was young and Makiko and her sister were small, Makiko’s father was sent to England by his company. After brief stays in London and Kent, we settled in Wokingham, a small town in Berkshire. (Nowadays I have heard it’s grown a lot bigger.) This was in the 1970s, when we had to go all the way to London to buy basic ingredients for Japanese cooking, like soy sauce. Making any kind of Japanese food was a struggle.

I grew some Japanese vegetables that I really missed, but had no chance of buying even in London at the time, in the garden of our rented house - things like shiso, mitsuba, shungiku, komatsuna, daikon and gobo (burdock). [See a dozen Japanese herbs and vegetables to grow - maki] I didn’t know anything about gardening, so when my gobo and daikon weren’t nice and straight, but were stubby ugly things with multiple roots, I wrote to my mother (international phone calls were so expensive then) in tears, asking her what to do. She wrote back so many times with detailed instructions - she was an avid gardener with a real green thumb. I still have those letters.

As I gradually adjusted to life away from Japan and my family, I became better at using local ingredients and adapting them to Japanese methods. This very simple summer braised vegetable dish is one recipe that I came up with during those years, that I still make every summer. It doesn’t even use dashi, which is standard in so many Japanese recipes. It uses vegetables that are available in Europe in early summer - new potatoes, green beans, peas, and carrots. The umami comes from the fresh young vegetables. Japanese cuisine is first and foremost about using seasonal ingredients, so to my mind, this is a very Japanese way of cooking.

Recipe: Simply Braised Spring Vegetables

This makes about 4 servings as part of a Japanese meal, to accompany rice, miso soup and one or two other dishes. You can also serve it alone or as a side dish to meat or fish.

To get the best flavor, it’s very important to use the freshest, preferably organic, vegetables you can find.

10-12 small new potatoes
2 small or 1 medium carrot
1 small onion
About 1 cup of shelled green peas
A large handful of green beans
1/2 Tbs. soy sauce (well she said ‘shu-shu’ (drizzle-drizzle), which I’m extrapolating to be about 1/2 tablespoon! - maki)
Salt (good sea salt is preferred)
Extra virgin olive oil, or other good flavorful oil (I use olive oil because you can get such wonderful olive oil here in the Provence, but you can also use sesame oil, walnut oil, and so on.)

Wash the new potatoes, and cut in half if they are big. Scrub and cut up the carrots into chunks. (Don’t peel the carrots - there’s a lot of flavor in the skin!) Dry both well in a kitchen towel.

Cut the onion in half, then slice against the grain (parallel to the root - as you would if you are cutting onion rings). Cutting against the grain ensures that the onions will cook faster.

Cut the tops and tails off the green beans, and cut in half. (If you have old fashioned green beans, take off the strings too.)

Heat up some oil in the bottom of the pan over medium-low heat. Put in the potatoes, and sauté while shaking occasionally until they are turning brown. Add the carrots about halfway through, and continue sautéing. This requires some patience, since it takes about 20 minutes or more.

Drain away any excess oil at this point. Add the sliced onions to the pan, and sauté some more until the onions are transparent and limp.

Add a small amount of water, just to about halfway up the potatoes. Add a tiny pinch of salt. Make an otoshibuta (drop lid) with a piece of aluminum foil, by crinkling it up so it fits on top of the vegetables in the pan, then poking a couple of holes in it with a chopstick. This otoshibuta ensures that the vegetables will cook evenly.

In the meantime, cook the green beans and peas in boiling salted water until crisp-tender. (Put the green beans in first, then add the peas for a couple of minutes.) Drain and set aside.

When the potatoes are tender (test by poking with a chopstick or fork) add the soy sauce, green beans and peas. Simmer for a few minutes longer while shaking the pan so that the flavors are evenly distributed. The water should be almost completely gone.

This is best served warm, but is also good at room temperature.

Optional: Add a little bit of sake or mirin near the end of the cooking process. This gives the vegetables a little added flavor and shine.

Tip: Sautéing vegetables in oil before stewing or braising

You will notice that this recipe calls for sautéeing the potatoes and onions in oil before braising. While most people know about sautéing onions and garlic to bring out the flavor, not many do this to other vegetables. Sautéing vegetables before cooking further brings out the flavor and sweetness in them. To prevent the final dish from becoming too oily, I always drain off any excess oil before proceeding further, as I did here.

Homemade Umeshu (plum wine) and Ume Hachimitsu Sour (ume honey-vinegar drink)

maki — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 10:53:59 +0000

Since so many people liked my mom’s umeboshi recipe, here are two more recipes using ume plums from her. She doesn’t have photos for these, so I’ve taken a picture of her notes, with a little illustration she did of how to layer the ume and sugar for the umeshu (plum wine).

How To Make Umeshu (plum wine)

Although it’s called plum ‘wine’, this beverage is actually a cordial or a liqueur. It’s much easier to make than umeboshi, since the alcohol prevents any mold from forming.

Ingredients and supplies

To make umeshu, you need three ingredients: unripe green ume plums, rock sugar (called kouri zatou (氷砂糖) or ‘ice sugar’ in Japan) and shochu or shouchuu or another flavorless distilled alcoholic beverage, such as vodka. Rock sugar is preferred because it melts slowly, but you could also use granulated sugar. (You can buy rock sugar at General Asian/Chinese grocery stores - maki)

For equipment, you need a large, wide mouth glass jar with an airtight lid. I use a very large canning jar with a snap-on lid with a rubber gasket. You could also use a screwtop lid. The jar should be large enough so that when you put the ume plums, sugar and shochu in, it should only come to about half of the height.

You’ll also need a sharp tool such as a toothpick or skewer to take out the stem ends, and a scale to weigh the ingredients.

Amounts

Weigh your ume plums, then weigh out about half of that weight in rock sugar. If you want it sweeter, increase to 60%. If you want to less sweet, use less sugar, though I would not go under 40% since unripe ume plums are very sour.

I like to keep it simple, and use 500 grams of sugar for every kilo of ume plums.

I never weigh the shochu, but there should be enough so that it completely covers the ume plums in the jar. For a kilo of ume plums I use about 2 liters of shochu.

Incidentally, I usually make about 5 kilo (11 lbs) worth of ume plums in one session, and I make it every year! So, that’s 5 kg of ume plums, 2.5 kg of rock sugar, and about 10 liters of shochu.

Method

Wash your jar or jars and lid well, and sterilize them in boiling water, in a hot dishwasher, in a warm oven, or with some of the alcohol you are using (shochu or vodka), just as you would when making jam or pickles.

Wash and dry the unripe green ume plums, and take off the stem end bits in the same way as in the umeboshi recipe with a toothpick or other pointy tool. You don’t need to soak them in water to get rid of the bitterness as you do with umeboshi, though you can if you want a very smooth tasting umeshu.

Weigh your ume plums after washing and de-stemming them, to get the amount of sugar you need.

Put a layer of ume plums in the jar, then a layer of rock sugar. Repeat until all the sugar and plums are used up, and press down with a clean spatula to compact it all in the jar. Pour the shochu or vodka into the jar until it just covers the topmost layer of plums. The jar should only be about half full, since a lot of liquid will come out of the plums. If you fill the jar too much to start with, the liquid may overflow and burst the lid off!

Put the lid on securely, and leave the jar in a cool, dark place. You may want to shake the jar occasionally to help things along. After about 3 months, the plums will have exuded a lot of juice and will come floating up to the surface - remove the ume plums (you can store them separately if you like; since they are completely saturated with sugar and alcohol, they won’t go bad). After about 5 months, the umeshu is ready to drink, but I like to leave it for at least a year to let it mature. Umeshu really at its best after 2 years, and just mellows and improves with age.

Mellow umeshu has a beautiful light green color, like light olive oil.

Some people like to eat the ume plums that have been used to make the umeshu; it’s believed to have medicinal qualities. People say that an ume a day keeps your insides healthy. You can also float a single ume plum in your umeshu drink as decoration.

How to drink umeshu

You can drink umeshu straight, or on the rocks (over ice cubes) like any liqueur. I like to mix it with water, at about a 1:1 ratio, with lots of ice cubes.

Fruit ‘wine’ with other fruit

If you can’t get ume plums, you can use the same method with other fruit. Strawberry wine, or ichigoshu, is very popular in Japan: for 1 kilo of good, ripe strawberries, use maybe 100 grams of sugar, depending on how sweet the fruit is. After 2 to 3 months, the strawberries will become completely white! Take them out (I wouldn’t eat these), and let the strawberry ‘wine’ mature. You can try apricots, quince, regular Western plums, and so on.

How To Make Honey Sour with ume plums

While umeshu is delicious, it is very alcoholic. So for non-drinkers and my grandchildren, I make a non-alcoholic version with honey and vinegar, called Honey Sour (蜂蜜サワー).

Honey Sour is easier to make than umeshu. Just take equal amounts in weight of unripe green ume plums, honey and vinegar. The vinegar can be rice vinegar, white wine vinegar, or apple cider vinegar - any light flavored and colored vinegar will work. Combine it all in a sterilized large jar. After a while (3 to 4 weeks), take out the plums that will have come floating up to the surface; these can be eaten too, like the umeshu plums. You can rebottle the honey sour in sterilized bottles at this point if you prefer, which can be kept at room temperature.

Use Honey Sour in the same way as you would use umeshu - on the rocks, mixed with water, and so on. It’s also nice as a syrup on shaved ice (kakigouri). I like to bring a small bottle of it on hikes, where we mix it with clear, cold water from mountain streams. So refreshing!

You could try other fruit too. Quince (called karin in Japanese) are really good as a Honey Sour base.

Footnote from Maki: My mother’s drawings

I love the little drawing my mom did for her umeshu instructions. I think her drawings are great, and keep telling her so, but she doesnt seem convinced! Here’s one she did of breakfast a couple of years back, with a wedge of melon and a bowl of muesli. I’m trying to convince her to let me show more of her drawings!

Homemade Umeboshi (Japanese salty pickled plums)

maki — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 07:14:35 +0000

My mother came for a visit this week, bringing along a pot of her homemade umeboshi. I asked her to tell me how she makes them; not only did she write it down for me, she even had pictures she’d taken of her attempts in the past couple of years! So, here is my mom’s version of how to make homemade umeboshi. I’ve freely translated her Japanese explanation to English.

My mother [my grandmother - maki] used to make umeboshi every year. When I lived in New York, I was too busy working to do much cooking, let alone umeboshi! But now that I am retired, I’m trying to remember how to do things the old way. Homemade umeboshi is so much more delicious than store bought, so they are worth the effort.

Ingredients and equipment

You only need 4 ingredients to make umeboshi: Ume plums, coarse sea salt, red shiso leaves and shochu or shouchuu, a type of distilled alcohol beverage that is available all over Japan and is quite inexpensive. If you can’t get shochu, you can use vodka or another kind of flavorless distilled beverage.

You also need some bowls, flat baskets, a large, wide-mouth, a deep container made of ceramic or glass or non-reactive plastic (never metal), a weight or a sturdy plastic bag, and large jars to store your umeboshi.

Preparing the ume plums

In Japan, umeboshi are always made in mid to late June, because that’s when the ume plums are ready. Ume plums are picked when they are hard and very sour. The kind I use are from the Kishuu region, which is in Wakayama prefecture. Kishuu ume are widely regarded to make the best umeboshi.

I understand that ume plums are now available in the United States. When you buy them, make sure you choose ones that are firm, plump and unblemished. Even small blemishes or cuts on the plums could lead to mold, which is the biggest reason umeboshi can fail.

Once you have the ume plums, carefully remove any remaining stems. The best way to do this is with a cocktail stick. Try not to pierce the ume plum when you’re doing this - again, this can lead to mold.

Once the stems are removed, wash the plums in several changes of water, and then fill a large bowl with cold water and leave the ume plums to soak overnight. This gets rid of some of the bitterness in the plums.

After soaking overnight, drain and dry the plums. Made ready a bowl of shochu or vodka, and dunk the ume plums completely in the alcohol. This is to kill any kind of mold spores on the surface.

Preparing the red shiso leaves

Red shiso or perilla leaves give color and flavor to the umeboshi. Use about 10% of the ume plus in weight of shiso leaves - so for 1 kilo of ume plums, use 100g of shiso leaves. Wash them, take off any tough stemps, sprinkle with a little sat and massage the leaves until they are limp.

Salt to ume ratio

Use a non-iodized, coarse salt. I use a coarse sea salt. You can use kosher salt instead.

The amount of salt, or the ratio of salt to ume plums, determines how salty your umeboshi will end up. My mother used to make very salty umeboshi with about 20% salt! I prefer mine to be quite low in salt, so I use only 8%. The lower the salt content, the more prone to mold the ume become, so beginners may want to start with 12% or 10% salt. You can also de-salt the umeboshi a little before you eat them, by soaking them in a weak salt water solution (though this does dilute the flavor too).

Here’s the amount of salt vs. ume plums at different percentages:

8%: For every 1 kilo of ume plums, use 80 grams of salt
10%: For every 1 kilo of ume plums, use 100 grams of salt
12%: For every 1 kilo of ume plums, use 120 grams of salt

Make the pickling container ready

Use a large, wide-mouth jar or other fairly deep container. Wash it inside and out thorougly, then disinfect the inside. Some people do this by putting the container in boiling water, but the most common way is to spray it with some shochu or vodka.

Fill the pickling container

Start with a layer of coarse salt. Cover with a layer of ume plums, then a bit of the shiso. Repeat the salt-ume-shiso layers, until the ume are used up. Now, cover the whole thing with a plastic bag or sheet, then put on a weight that is at least half as heavy as the ume plums - in other words, 1 kilo of ume plums requires a 500g weight. While there are dedicated ceramic weights available, you can use anything you can find such as a bagful of water (as long as it doesn’t leak), a full water bottle, clean rocks in a plastic bag, and so on.

Once the container is full and weighted down, cover the top with a clean, porous cloth like a cheesecloth or openweave kitchen towel; secure this with a rubber band or string. Leave in a cool, dark area of your house, until the ume plums become soft and completely immersed in a reddish liquid. This liquid is extracted from the ume plums by the salt. This part of the process will take about a week or more.

Once the liquid is about 2 cm (an inch) above the top of the ume plums, reduce the weight by about half, and leave the ume plums in the jar in the liquid until it’s time to dry them in the sun.

Drying the plums

The hoshi/boshi part of umeboshi means ‘to dry’, and the following drying step is very important!

In Japan, we time the umeboshi process so that the ume plums reach the end of the salting stage around Doyou no ushi no hi （土用の丑の日), which falls on a different day every year, but is always around mid July. This date is always marked on Japanese calendars, along with other holidays and special days, just like Christian holy days are marked on European calendars. The significance of this day for umeboshi making is that it occurs after the rainy season is over, when the weather becomes hot and relatively dry (this period is called doyou no hi （土用の日), the doyou period). If you are not in Japan, just look at the weather forecast and aim for a period of a few days when it’s supposed to be nice and hot and sunny.

Once the ume plums are immersed in the reddish liquid, take the plums and the shiso leaves out of the jar. Reserve the liquid - this is umesu, or ume vinegar, and is delicious! (See instant radish pickle recipe that uses ume vinegar - maki)

Put the ume plums in a single layer on flat baskets, and the shiso leaves in spread-put clumps separately. Here you see that I have lined up the baskets on newspapers out on my apartment balcony. The newspapers protect the top of the table underneath!

Leave the plums like this in a fairly sunny place with good ventilation, for about 3 days. If it rains, take them inside. Turn them over at least once a day.

At the end of the drying process, they look like this. The drying tenderizes the plums, giving them a better texture.

The umeboshi are now done. You can store them as-is, in a jar, layering plums with the shiso leaves. Or you can pour back in some of the ume vinegar, to give them a softer texture. This is what I did with this batch.

Here’s another batch (from last year). I stored some wet in disinfected glass jars, and some dry in a ceramic jar.

Umeboshi improves with age for a few years. I usually start eating them 3 years after making them, though you can eat them the same year. At around 5 years I think they are at their best. After about 10 years or so they start to disintegrate and become mushy if kept wet, and rather shriveled like an old lady if kept dry - but they are still edible!

An alternate type of umeboshi: White umeboshi

You can make umeboshi without the red shiso leaves. This results in light brown umeboshi and an almost clear ume vinegar.

I hope you have enjoyed this how-to of a very traditional Japanese preserved food!

Borough Market, London: A Very Literary Food Paradise

maki — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 16:44:37 +0000

When I found out that I’d be in London this week for a couple of days, my thoughts immediately turned to what food-related things I could fit into my schedule. Tea and scones, check. Curry, check. A visit to Japan Centre, check. But at the top of my list was a proper roam around Borough Market.

Long time readers of Just Hungry may know that I absolutely love markets, and go to them whenever and wherever I can. One big reason I’ve decided to move to the south of France is because of the wonderful markets here. So, how does London’s oldest market compare to some of my favorites? While Borough Market is not the biggest market, nor does it have the widest selection, or even the best selection, of foodstuffs, it’s a very special place. In my opinion, it’s simply the most intellectually pleasing market there is.

Let’s start with the literary quotes on colorful banners, hanging from the beams:

Of course, there has to be at least one from Shakepeare.

I think this one is my favorite.

A little lower down, there are the boards displayed by individual vendors. This one is at the Fish Kitchen (aka Fish!), a fish and chips purveyor.

(This is the fish and chips they talk of, eaten sprinkled with vinegar and salt of course.)

This tree shaped sign stands next to a stall selling jams and chutneys.

This one is so beautifully done, I wouldn’t mind hanging it on my wall as art. I wonder if there are graphic design pros that create these display boards, or if the stall holders letter them themselves?

A sign of the times, but with a sense of humor.

How could you resist pies with such cheerful features?

Here’s the cheese display at Neal’s Yard Dairy. The contents and provenance of each cheese is carefully noted, though of course if you ask the cheesemongers they’ll happily explain it to you all over again, together with a sample.

One big cheese, made with love.

It’s not just the fans of the written word that are happy here. How about these displays of vegetables, just like still life paintings?

Even humble onions and potatoes get the artistic treatment.

I’ve seen witty signage and beautiful displays like this elsewhere in the UK, but at Borough Market you get to see the best, all in one place.

Food wise, the prepared foods are the main draw of Borough Market, especially for visitors. You can get everything from fish and chips to Thai green curry to hot dogs to chicken sandwiches. You can eat things on the spot, or take them home with you. And the samples are plentiful - here some rose-scented Turkish Delight; there some date and apple chutney; and how about some gluten-free chocolate brownies, or perhaps some Eccles cake? You could probably make a meal of just the samples. But don’t miss out on the meat pies, the sausage rolls, the domestic and imported cheeses, and so much more.

Having spent some of my growing up years in England, I have a special spot in my heart, not to mention my stomach, for British food. I know that British food still has a bad reputation in other countries, but a visit to Borough Market will do a lot to rid you of such misconceptions. At its finest, British food is grand.

Borough Market is open to the public on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Check for hours and directions on the official website.

(Footnote: My favorite food of the whole market:)

The book giveaway winner is announced, plus some more news

maki — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 22:49:53 +0000

The winner of The Enlightened Kitchen book is… emalie from Australia!

If you didn’t win this time, stay tuned, because I have a couple more books to give away in the next couple of weeks which I am sure will be of interest to Just Hungry readers.

In other news: A while ago, I was interviewed by The Japan Times, the leading English language newspaper in Japan. That interview is now up on their web site, with a goofy picture of me (guess what’s in that bowl over my head…)

In other, more personal news: After looking at hundreds of places online, and dozens in person, we’ve finally put in an offer for a house, which has been accepted! I’m very excited, but that doesn’t mean that we are going to be moving in that soon, because of the way things work in France when you do buy a house. (There’s quite a lot of red tape to work through.)

The house that we did finally pick and will hopefully be buying also needs quite a lot of work done to it - for one thing, it doesn’t really have a kitchen! - so we are still going to be nomads for a while. I’m getting used to that though; while it is a bother to have to live out of suitcases and cartons, and work in unfamiliar kitchens, it’s also a great opportunity to see how other peoples’ kitchens are set up, and make notes on what works and what doesn’t.

A kitchen really is the heart of a home, especially for someone who loves to cook as I do, and I would like mine to be efficient, workable and welcoming. I’ll have some more thoughts about kitchens in general, and the one I will build (hopefully), in the upcoming months.

There’s some more exciting news I’m bursting to share, but that has to wait for a bit… :)

Book review: The Enlightened Kitchen, shōjin ryōri (shoujin ryouri) for the home

maki — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 16:20:07 +0000

The Enlightened Kitchen: Fresh Vegetable Dishes from the Temples of Japan by Mari Fujii is a beautifully presented, easy introduction to the world of shojin ryori (or shoujin ryouri 精進料理), the highly refined vegan cuisine developed by Buddhist monks in Japan. I’ve often been asked by readers of this site and other people to recommend a good shojin ryori book: While there are many such books in Japanese, I haven’t really been comfortable recommending a book in English so far. Shojin ryori tends to use a lot of ingredients that are only available in Japan - even more so than ‘regular’ Japanese cooking - and it is a haute cuisine that requires a lot of skill.

The Enlightened Kitchen, on the other hand, is filled with nonintimidating recipes, that any amateur cook with decent access to Japanese ingredients could tackle. Some of the vegetables and dried ingredients may trip you up, but it’s easy to think up suitable substitions. The author, Mari Fujii, is married to a Buddhist monk, and has been teaching, speaking and writing about shojin ryori and other types of Buddhist vegetarian cuisines for 2 decades in Japan.

The book is divided into six sections: Soup; Salads; Tofu and Beans; Vegetables; Potato, Rice and Grains; and Desserts. There’s a small but essential Basic Techniques section, and a useful glossary. Most of the recipes are vegan, following shojin ryori teachings, but a few do use dairy products, which are used in Chinese Buddhist temple food for example. It’s a really beautiful book, with gorgeous photos and layout. It’s a pleasure to hold and just flip through.

You may have read my rave reviews of the Japanese vegan cookbooks by Yumiko Kano here before. The recipes in The Enlightened Kitchen are more straightforwardly traditional than those of Yumiko Kano, but are still very accessible and modern. And of course, this one is in well-translated English! I’ve tried a few of the recipes already, and they’ve all turned out very well with minimum fuss, even in my current tiny holiday home kitchen. Some of our favorites so far are the eggplant dishes, since eggplants (aubergines) are abundant here in southern France: Sesame-Flavored Eggplant (miso) Soup is rich and toasty, and Eggplant Salad with Lemon-Flavored Plum Dressing is a great side dish or starter. Even the resident dedicted omnivore approves heartily. (Check out the bento-friendly lentil salad inspired by a recipe in this book over on Just Bento.)

The Enlightened Kitchen: Fresh Vegetable Dishes from the Temples of Japan: Author: Mari Fujii; Translated by: Richard Jeffery; Photography: Tae Hamamura; Published by: Kodansha International; Amazon link (Amazonk UK link; Amazon.de link)

And now the part you’ve been waiting for (or skipped forward to): The Giveaway!

I have one copy of The Enlightened Kitchen to give away, courtesy of the publisher, Kodansha International. Just leave a comment to this article, making sure that you put a valid email in the email box (don’t worry, no one but I will see it). To make it a bit more fun, tell us what your favorite vegan dish is, linking to the recipe if possible. Your comment must be posted before 23:59:59 CET (Central European Time) on Sunday, June 7th. One winner will be selected at random, and announced sometime next week. Good luck!

The giveaway is now closed. The winner will be announced later this week!