essays

I am only what I am. I hope it's enough.

maki — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 20:19:04 +0200

My niece Rena at age 6, enjoying teuchi udon (handmade udon noodles).

I am occasionally asked via email or Twitter or even in person, to post a recipe that is Asian but not Japanese. In most cases, I have to say that I have no idea how to make it. Well that wouldn’t be exactly true: I could look it up online or in cookbooks and replicate a recipe here. But then, so could you. So could anyone.

Just because I am of Asian descent, does not mean I know anything about most Asian cuisines other than Japanese, and the Asian cuisines that have established themselves in Japanese culinary culture. For instance, certain types of Chinese cooking have been made popular by the resident Chinese communities in Japan (the city where my mother lives, Yokohama, has a vibrant Chinatown for instance). Because of the long and complicated history between Korea and Japan, not to mention attempts in recent years for the two countries to establish a closer cultural relationship, Korean cuisine is also well known and loved in Japan. So, I can tell you how to cook some dishes from those cuisines.

But then again, they are versions of those cuisines that are popular in Japan, and probably differ in varying degrees from the way they are in their countries of origin. The longer their history in Japan, the more they’ve been adapted to Japanese tastes. For example, Japanese gyoza dumplings differ quite a bit from the ones you get at Hong Kong style dim sum palaces. Japanese style steamed buns are also rather different from the originals. That doesn’t make them less tasty, but they are adaptations for sure, that have developed over decades.

I’ve never been to any country in Asia other than Japan - a situation I hope to be able to rectify soon. But the point is, my familiarity with most other Asian cuisines is far less than my familiarity with most European or North American cuisines. I have lived for most of my adult life either in the U.S. or Europe. I know more about Marmite or how to make a home-style Swiss fondue, than pad thai or pho. I love those dishes, but I don’t feel confident writing down how to make ‘authentic’ versions.

On the other hand, if you want a strong opinion about what makes for good himono (half-dried fish), or how handmade soba or udon should taste, or why nukazuke pickles are so tricky to get right…well you’re in the right place. And don’t even get me started on the whole subject of sushi or wagashi, or what makes a good Japanese style curry or tonkatsu.

My mother enjoying some mitarashi dango

I do of course like to experiment and try out new things as much as anyone. I’m fine with posting deviations of classic recipes, or something that is ‘of the style of’. But when it comes to writing down the directions for real classic dishes, I tend to stick to what I know, the dishes that I grew up with, or the ones transmitted to me by better, wiser cooks than I.

So, that’s why you don’t see much general Asian cooking here. You’ll see some results of experiments - Maki’s versions as it were. On the other hand, I have all the weight of the experience of the women (and some men) of my family behind the classic Japanese dishes I post here. They are hovering over what I write, for real (my mother and one of my aunts check out my site all the time and give me feedback, especially if I get something wrong) as well as in spirit.

Real beef

maki — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 08:56:36 +0200

As opposed to the previous post, this is about real meat.

First, I got an email from one Tony McNicol, a Tokyo based photographer and journalist (he’s originally from the UK). On his site, he has several fascinating photo essays depicting some off-the-beaten-track slices of Japanese life. One of them is about Kobe beef, which is a very special (and expensive) kind of beef.

[Kobe Beef, June 2009 - Images by Tony McNicol. Used with permission.]

Kobe beef is (as Tony says) not just wagyuu, and it doesn’t mean beef from the city of Kobe. It is beef from a particular kind of cow, in a particular place, in a special way. Only about 2000 of these specially raised cows are slaughtered every year, and it it sold at retail (if you can get a hold of it) for $500 a kilo.

Now, it is quite obvious that Kobe beef is not some kind of happy accident of nature. It is a manmade product in all senses of the word. The cows were bred to be a certain way, and they are raised with plenty of human intervention. It is really agriculture - which is, after all, the process of growing food for human consumption - taken to its extreme.

This reminded me of another manmade meat product, which for various reasons has been the center of controversy, especially in the U.S., for a few years: fois gras. A few people object to the method of producing a duck or goose with a fatty liver, called gavage, which involved force feeding food into the bird’s gullet with a tube. These few people have been very vocal, and in some places successful. The anti-gavage movement has even spread in a small way to Europe, though most people here (from my very unscientific observations and conversations - though some EU countries have started the procedure to ban gavage) shake their heads at the very notion of the government trying to ban its consumption.

The best observations on the fois gras conflict in the U.S. that I have read is in from Incanto, an Italian restaurant in San Francisco (via Elise’s Twitter). Note that I think it’s the best partly because I wholly agree with the opinions expressed there. (It’s also quite well written, as are their past newsletters, which you can also read on their site. It’s the first time the quality of writing on their web site or newsletter has made me want to visit a restaurant!)

The point made there that I agree with the most is this: I think there is far too much preaching and pushing of ones opinion on other people going on in the food world. It is one thing to decide for yourself, and possibly for your family, how and what you eat. It’s quite another to try to force others to do so, particularly through government legislation. I tend to be sort of left of center when it comes to politics, but some of the tactics used by people and organizations who have a particular food agenda makes me want to shy away from them - even if I actually share their particular stance on a food issue.

As humans, we have to eat to survive, and except for a very few people, we rely on other people to grow or make the food for us. It is good to keep a vigilant eye on the process by which food reaches our tables, but “your way” is not always the “right way” for everyone. We all have to make our own decisions, and hopefully we can continue to do so.

Poverty, rice, and Air Yakiniku

maki — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 13:42:44 +0200

I know I am very late in talking about Air Yakiniku (エア焼肉), which is already over the hill as far as fads go, but here’s my take on it anyway. Unless you don’t know what Air Yakiniku is, it’s a Japanese virtual game that simulates the making eating of yakiniku (table-grilled meat, usually though not always referring to Korean style table-top ‘barbeque’). Here’s the mock-serious how-to video:

Basically, you play the game by making ready a real bowl of rice and a saucer of yakiniku sauce (which is in the same family of sauces as Bulldog/tonkatsu/okonomiyaki sauce in case you’re wondering). The video instructs you to pre-mix some of that sauce into the rice before you start. You then pretend to grill juicy pieces of meat until they’re done on-screen. When your virtual meat piece is done, you pretend to pop it in your mouth, then rapidly put some of that sauce/rice mix into your (real) mouth and close your eyes. It promises to give you the feeling of eating real yakiniku, without the expense!

Yes I know, those wacky Japanese eh. And it is stupid and funny. (And possibly some kind of viral ad campaign - more about that later.) It is humor with a good dose of sarcasm and a tinge of tragedy to it though. In Japan, there’s a long tradition of depicting a meal of penury as being a plain bowl of rice, and nothing else. It’s the equivalent of bread and water in European culture. If you are lucky, you might be able to afford some soy sauce or something to flavor your rice with (if you’re really lucky you can afford to mix in a raw egg). But if you can only afford a plain, unflavored bowl of rice, you can pretend that you have more food by looking at a picture or some delicious food or something sour and saliva-inducing like umeboshi, or even just imagining it in your mind. The Hans Christien Andersen story The Little Match Girl is probably the most popular one of his fairytales in Japan.

So Air Yakiniku is a continuation of this kind of satiric humor. It’s published by a company called Recruit, who operate, among many other things, major job search portal sites, a job-search/employment magazine, and more. The Japanese economy has been just as hard as other economies, which has resulted in many people who are Recruit’s audience, especially temp/contract workers (haken shain 派遣社員), who are mostly in their 40s and younger, losing their jobs. Many temp agencies have gone out of business in recent months, some leaving their contractors unpaid. It’s a pretty dire time, especially since Japan never really shook off the malaise of the bubble economy of the late ’80s. So, while Air Yakiniku is weird and funny, it’s also quite cruel. But I guess you could say that about the most memorable comedy, and may account for its popularity, especially in Japan where that mix of wacked out humor and deep pathos is part of the national psyche.

Notes

The 4 choices of meat on offer in Air Yakiniku are kalbi (beef short rib, served on or off the bone, popular in Korean barbeque); tan (tongue), horumon (offal - see this post for more about horumon), and “Wow what a load of beef! a big beef steak. (So this New York Times blog post is pretty much wrong.)
Beef, even if it’s not wagyuu, is very expensive in Japan, especially the good cuts, so yakiniku is considered to be a real treat.
Even sadder than a plain bowl of rice is no rice at all. During World War II (which is still called The Great Pacific War by some older people) there was a huge rice shortage. Imported rice, which most often was not the type Japanese people were familiar with (see Looking at Rice) was reviled and called gaimai (foreign rice). Other grains like barley, wheat and millet were mixed with rice, and those also became associated with poverty. “Good” Japanese rice was sold on the black market. Nowadays of course those alternate grains are touted about being healthy alternatives to white rice, and people eat non-Japanese style rice with Indian or Thai food, but there is still that lingering stigma attached to those ‘inferior’ grains.

Until fairly recently, rice prices were strictly regulated in Japan by the government to protect farmers, so it was rather expensive compared to other carbohydrate foods. My stepfather, who’s in his early ’60s, remembers his mother resorting to flour based carbs like udon noodles and suiton (Japanese gnocchi) when money got tight. He still dislikes udon for that reason.)
What makes the fact that Recruit is behind Air Yakiniku even more ironic is the fact that the company was involved (eh, allegedly) in the biggest post-war insider trading and bribing scandal in Japan in 1988, just about the time the economy was also going down the toilet.

The sweet, cultured taste of Calpis

maki — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 18:26:31 +0200

As your sometime guide to Japanese culinary culture, I would be remiss if I let another summer pass by without talking about Calpis.

Calpis is a sweetened fermented milk beverage. The label says:

“CALPIS” is a cultured milk drink, a refreshing gift from nature.

People tend to either love or hate Calpis. It tastes somewhat like very sweet, thick yogurt syrup with a dash of buttermilk. It is similar to Yakult, which seems to have been introduced more successfully around the world. However unlike the “gut-friendly” Yakult, Calpis makes no claims about containing active-bio-friendly-Dr.-Something-flora and things. In other words, it’s basically bad for you, as a sugary beverage should be. (It does have some half-hearted blurbs about being a good source of calcium, but then there’s all that sugar.) The ingredients are listed as cane sugar, milk and ‘dairy products’ (lactose), maltose and soy derived sugar.

It is sold as a carbonated drink (and labeled Calpico or Calpis soda, depending on where it’s sold), non-carbonated Calpis (or Calpico) water, and as a concentrate. There are fruit flavored versions too, but I like to stick to the original, unadulterated flavor. Derivative products include a premixed alcoholic cocktail called Calpis Sour, Calpis flavored candy, and frozen ices.

To English speakers in particular, the name is somewhat unfortunate, especially for a beverage. This is why Calpis has been marketed as Calpico in various overseas markets.

Originally Calpis was only sold as a concentrate, in a heavy glass bottle. The bottle did not have a label stuck on it. Instead, it was completely wrapped up in textured white paper patterned with blue polka dots. The paper was pleated like a summery dress of the 1950s, the decade in which the bottle was designed. (Think Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch.) You can still get the concentrate in this elegant bottle (mostly in boxed gift sets), sans the pleated paper, but nowadays the concentrate is mostly sold in boring paper cartons. They have kept the blue-polka-dot-on-white design though.

Calpis concentrate also makes a great syrup for shaved ice (kakigouri). When I was in Hawaii in November, I kept looking for Calpis as a flavor choice at the shave ice places, but never found it. I was disappointed. In Japan Calpis is ubiquitous.

I’ve always preferred the concentrate over the ready to drink Calpis, because you can put in as little or as much Calpis as you want. My mother used to scold us if we put too much Calpis in our ice water. Even now I get a small guilty thrill when I make my Calpis nice and thick. I become a 10 year old again, sneaking into the kitchen when my mother wasn’t looking, to add a big extra dollop of the stuff in my glass. I would stir it well, but there would always be a bit of full-strength concentrate at the bottom of the glass. I would tip my head back, letting the thick syrup glide slowly down the glass into my mouth, the last, sweet treat.

Unlike mugicha, my other favorite cold summer beverage, I do not indulge in Calpis that often these days. Mugicha is zero calorie and supposed to be good for you. 100ml of Calpis diluted to ‘regular strength’ contains 48 calories according to the official Japanese website. To compare, 100 ml of regular cola has 43 calories. (There is an artificially sweetened concentrate now with ‘60% less calories’, but it’s hard to find outside of Japan. Besides, what’s the point of artificially sweetened Calpis?) I would have to burn it off the way I did when I was 10, by playing Kick The Can for hours on end, to be able to handle more than an occasional glass. I tell you, growing up is highly overrated.

Calpis (Calpico) Water and Calpis (Calpico) Soda are available in many Asian grocery stores. Calpis concentrate is available at well stocked Japanese groceries especially in the summer, such as Japan Centre.

(Note: When I tell Swiss people about Calpis, they nod sagely and say “Ah, it’s like Rivella”. Well Rivella is also a cultured milk based drink (soda), but to me it tastes nothing like Calpis. Neither does the Migros knockoff Mivella.)

How to use Calpis concentrate

The recommended dilution for Calpis concentrate is 4:1 or 5:1 water to Calpis. I have gone up to as high as 2.5:1, but that is a bit extreme. The concentration level of pre-bottled Calpis/Calpico water is about 5:1.

To prepare, just fill a glass with ice cubes, pour in concentrate to your desired level, then fill up with cold water. Stir well. Since the concentrate has a tendency to sink to the bottom, it’s best to serve this with a straw or muddler to stir it around with. For an extra hit of Calpis, finish off the glass with a swirl of extra concentrate.

Use the concentrate neat as a topping on snowcones or shaved ice.

Calpis Sour

This is a cocktail. I use vodka instead of shochu, since shochu is not easily available in Europe.

Pour 1 finger of vodka and 2 fingers of Calpis concentrate into a glass. Add ice cubes. Top up with water and stir well. (You can also shake it in a cocktail shaker.) Garnish glass with a slice of lemon. Serve with a straw.

Use soda water instead of still water for a bubbly version.

Photo credits: Calpis Water bottle - luisvilla; Calpico bottles - samk; Calpis vending machine - jpellgen; Calpis closeup with ice balls - chidorian; Calpis giftset from my mom. (Other photos are by me.)

American kitchens: Why cups, and not weight? Where's the kitchen scale?

maki — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 22:21:58 +0200

(This post has nothing to do with Frugal Month. It does have something to do with my recent obsessing about kitchens though.)

I like the cooking videos on the New York Times web site quite a lot. I especially like the ones from Apartment 4B, starring Jill Santopietro in her tiny kitchen. She’s adorable, and the recipes look workable.

But as I was watching this latest video, where she makes a pizza in that tiny kitchen, I was shaking my head in disbelief many times.

Well first, go and watch it if you haven’t yet. I’ll wait.

(Waits.)

Seen it? Ok, this is what’s bothering me.

She recommends ‘fluffing the flour up’, before scooping-and-leveling it out with your standard measuring cup.
She then makes the pizza dough with a gigantic Kitchen Aid mixer.

So basically, this girl who has a kitchen barely big enough to turn around in, has a giant mixer, yet has no kitchen scale. I guess there’s some sort of rationale behind the fluffing up the flour step, but - isn’t it more important to have an accurate amount of flour in the dough? What if you fluff more one day than you do another, and your dough doesn’t turn out the same?

Which leads to a question that’s been bugging me for a long time. Why don’t American cooks like to weigh their ingredients?

Now, while I did spend a number of years living in the States, I essentially learned the fundamentals of cooking in Japan, with some England and Switzerland thrown in there. (This is mainly because when I lived in New York, I either was too broke to cook much beyond the basics, or (later on) I had a crazy 100 hour a week type of job which left me little time or energy for cooking. If I’d had a food blog back then, it would have been about the wonders of NYC takeout.) Anyway, the point is, I learned to cook with this basic understanding: For complete accuracy, you need to weigh out ingredients, especially for baking.

But every single American cookbook or recipe site has measurements in cups and spoons. This makes sense for liquid ingredients. And most recipes are forgiving enough so that a few grams or ounces more or less don’t make a big difference. But if you have a complicated recipe for cake or something that you want to be able to replicate reliably, in my mind cups don’t really make a lot of sense. Commercial recipes, which must be reliably reproduceable, don’t do cup measurements.

I do write out most of the the recipes on my sites with cup measurements (as well as ounces and grams) for U.S. readers. I have memorized archaic U.S. only measurements like a stick of butter = 8 Tbs. of butter = 4 ounces of butter. Still, I don’t really see that it’s totally logical.

A fairly fancy kitchen scale doesn’t cost more than $50 or so, $100 at most. That humongous KitchenAid in the video probably cost what - $400? $500? More? I did not have a very big kitchen in the house we just sold, so I couldn’t find the space for a mixer, but I only needed a tiny narrow shelf to house a good kitchen scale.

So, my U.S. based readers - what’s your opinion? Why do Americans love cup measurements, and not weight measurements? Do you have a kitchen scale? Do you use it? (Do you have a KitchenAid or other big gadget, and bake often, but no scale?)

(Disclaimer: I have nothing at all against KitchenAid. My sister has one, it’s beautiful. I admire it when I visit her.)

(Oh, and one more thing that bugged me about that video, though it’s not unique in this: Carmelize onions?? Make them smell like Carmel, California? Isn’t it caramelize??)

Savings Techniques for Women Who Can't Save

maki — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 18:44:11 +0200

This article about my favorite Japanese personal finance book is part of Frugal Food Month. While it’s not directly about food, I hope it’s of interest to Just Hungry readers anyway!

Previously, I wrote about some household budget management tools and methods which are fairly standard in Japanese society. While I’ve known all about these things for years - the kakeibo household ledger, the envelope management method, and so on - I had a hard time following these methods myself for a very long time. As a result, my personal savings have always been on the meager side, to put it mildly.

It actually took a small book that I picked up a couple of years ago to make me really see the light. The book is called Finally This Time! Savings Techniques for Women Who Can’t Save (貯められない女のためのこんどこそ!貯める技術). It’s actually a manga (comic) book. In Japan, it’s quite common for difficult concepts to be explained with manga. And what’s more important to really understand than how to manage your money?

The book starts by recounting how the author, Kyoko Ikeda, was totally unable to accumulate any kind of savings. One day she discovers that she only has about 11,000 yen in the bank (roughly US $110 at current exchange rates), and that has to last her for 10 days until her next client payment (she’s a freelance illustrator and manga artist) is due in. She somehow manages to make it through those ten days, and goes to the bank fully expecting the client payment to be in…and it isn’t. She has a serious moment of panic, especially when she goes home and tries to get online - and she can’t. Has her internet already been cut off due to nonpayment? What is she going to do? What about the rent that’s due?

She survives that crisis when the payment is credited to her account later that day. Some time later, she goes to a class reunion, where she talks to a former classmate who not only have bought their own home already, but has paid off the mortgage. She realizes that she’s single, in her late 30s, has no savings or any kind of assets to her name, and is always living from payment to payment, walking a financial tightrope.

She wonders, where has all the money gone? It’s not like she hasn’t been earning a good income. Her basic expenses like rent are not that high either. She doesn’t buy expensive clothes or accessories, or go on lots of trips. When she really analyzes her past spending habits, she realizes that she’s just been frittering her money away. Where did it go: On things like an expensive computer she really couldn’t afford (on ‘easy monthly payments’ of course); lessons for things she was all fired up to learn, but never followed through on; equipment and stuff for hobbies soon abandoned. She also has a habit of comforting herself with food (chocolate, an ice cream sundae, a nice curry at the local restaurant…) or little trivial, non-lasting purchases (Aromatherapy! Miracle skincare products!) Finally, she’s also always fighting clutter and disorganization at home, and constantly buying new organizing gear - more shelves, more boxes, more…

Does any of this sound familiar to you? To me, it was almost like reading about myself, especially the parts about using small purchases to make myself feel better. And getting frustrated with all the clutter and going out to buy more and more organizing gear. Oh, and the part about spending too much on computer stuff too. And the supplies for soon-abandoned hobbies (ouch!). And the lesson fees for half-finished courses (ouch again!). And, and… The similarities were quite shocking.

Keeping it simple

Of course, it wouldn’t be a personal finance book without solutions. What made sense to me was that she kept it very simple.

Every month, she’d subtract her fixed costs - rent, utilities, and so on from her income.
The rest, she withdrew as cash and divided up into envelopes (see the envelope method described previously). She made a strict pact with herself never to let one envelope/category “borrow” from another; e.g. if her entertainment expenses envelope ran out, no transferring from her office supplies envelope!
She kept a kakeibo (household ledger), but didn’t use a commercially available one, since she found the categories to be too complicated. She just used a regular notebook, using 2 pages per week, and used broad categorizations that fit her lifestyle and spending patterns. One that made a lot of sense to me is that she divided her food spending into ‘food for survival’ and ‘food for comfort/entertainment’ categories. Things like eggs, milk, vegetables were ‘food for survival’; chocolate, cake, or eating out for the sake of eating out were ‘food for comfort/entertainment’. Most if not all Japanese pre-printed kakeibo divid ‘food’ into too many categories (carb, protein, vegetables, etc) which can get tedious to keep track of.
Instead of writing down what she spent, she just stuck down her receipts and wrote down the totals.
She got rid of unplanned spending. Whenever she wanted to buy something, she would write down her requirements first, and carry the notes around until she found something that fit.
She had a couple of variations on the coin saving scheme. First of all, whenever she could she paid with bills rather than coins, so she’d always end up with change. Then any change, especially ‘big’ change (500 yen coins) left at the end of the day was put into the coin jar. (That would be easier to duplicate in countries that have big-denomination coins; here in Switzerland I try 5 franc and 2 franc coins. In the US, you could try quarters, those elusive dollar coins, or even $1 and $5 bills.) At the end of the month, the contents of the coin jar were deposited into a separate savings account, at a different savings institution from her regular bank (she chose the post office).

Decluttering leads to saving

Ms. Ikeda’s best known books are actually about decluttering and organization. I picked those up before getting to her savings book. In any case, she says, and I agree from my own experience, and decluttering your personal space leads to saving money too. Not only do you stop wasting money on duplicate purchases (10 pairs of scissors because you keep misplacing them, etc.) but clearing your physical space seems to clear your mental space too.

So, has it worked for me?

Since reading this book as well as her decluttering books, I can say that I have improved my personal finances quite a bit, as well as decluttered my environment and life. It’s been a small yet significant factor in leading to the situation I’m in now, looking for an ideal place to live and work, with just enough funds to make that choice. So I’d say it has worked, and is continuing to work.

Ms. Ikeda has a lot of other ideas in her little book, some of which go a bit too far for me (like when she determines that white flour is the cheapest carb, and tries to live on udon, okonomiyaki, and so on). But I truly love this book. Maybe it should be translated into English! In any case I’ve tried to cover the highlights of the book here. If you do read Japanese at all, and have problems with saving money, I highly recommend it. Besides being practical, it’s very cute and funny too, and while the title says ‘For Women Who Can’t Save’ it’s just as useful for men too I think. (Her organizing and decluttering books are just as good, if not even better. If you all are interested I’ll try to describe them also in an upcoming post. She’s also published a couple of books on investing in stocks, and new one on dieting, but I haven’t read those yet.)

(Note: a related post on my language blog about a term she uses often…that leads to a lot of wasteful spending!)

The Kakeibo and Japanese household budgeting tools

maki — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 15:33:45 +0200

A few kakeibos, and Japanese womens’ magazines with budgeting-oriented articles. Look for these words: 家計 (household finances), 貯める　(save money), 家計簿　(household finance ledger).

To kick off Frugal Food month, here is an article from the archives about Japanese household budgeting tools, which was supposed to be the start of a series - but then All Hell Broke Loose around Chez Maki, and the series sort of got forgotten. Well, the series will be revived this month, so in case you missed this one, here it is!

(Original intro: So why is there a money management article on a food site? Well, I think that the subject of our money is on a lot of people’s minds these days, and food spending is a major part of that. An it’s about Japan, and I know a lot of you read this site because it brings you bits of interest about my homeland. So, I hope you’ll enjoy this little derail.)

Many people worldwide are concerned these days about the economy. While it’s difficult for us as individuals to influence factors like what our financial institutions do, we can control where our money goes. While this topic is not directly about food, I thought it might be interesting to see how Japanese people handle household budgeting.

Why look at what Japanese people do? For one thing, Japan went through a severe economic correction (aka the “bubble economy”) in the late ’80s, largely in part due to overvalued real estate and resulting defaults on loans, which lasted well into the ’90s and even fundamentally changed the way Japanese society works. While the current Japanese stock market, yen, and banks are on a wild and bumpy ride just like the rest of the world, individuals (except for those who invested in stocks, currencies and such) on a whole seem to be a tiny bit less worried than people in North America or Europe. This may be because saving rates in Japan are amongst the highest in the developed world, estimated to be around 25% of income (though that has fallen from previous savings rates of 30 to 35%; in contrast, the saving rates in the U.S. average around negative 0.5%), or simply because household budgeting skills have been talked about for quite a long time.

The wife is in charge of the household budget

In the West, money is considered to be the domain of males. This is not the case in Japan. In a typical Japanese household, the wife (who may or may not work outside the home) is firmly in charge of the household finances. She decides on how the money is spent, how to plan for big ticket purchases, even in many cases how money is invested. Financial products are often marketed with ‘cute’ themes, to appeal to a female audience. (See the cute kakeibo in the picture above).

The kakeibo, the household finance ledger

The 家計簿　(kakeibo) is the essential tool used by any money-savvy Japanese household budget manager. Kakeibo literally means household finance ledger. You can buy all kinds of kakeibo (here are the Amazon Japan search results for 家計簿). While there are several kakeibo software packages, Excel templates and the like, hand-written kakeibo are still popular. Many magazines aimed at housewives include a giveaway version as a supplement in their December issues, for use in the coming year.

A typical kakeibo has:

A monthly summary page, where monthly income is noted, and monthly budgets and savings/loan repayment goals are set.
Weekly pages (or 2 pages per week) with expense and income categories on the left, and daily columns.
A section for planning for irregular or unexpected expenses
A yearly summary section.

A truly diligent budget manager/housewife diligently keeps up her kakeibo every day, noting down items in each budget category, but there are alternative kakeibos and kakeibo methods out there for lazier people. Here’s the cover of a kakeibo where the user can just stick on receipts for example.

I know that it’s a lot easier to use personal finance software, and in a bank account, check, and credit/debit card reliant society like the U.S. for example, it may make better sense, especially if you can automatically import your information online. But there’s something to be said for actually writing down amounts by hand too: it may give a more tangible sense of how you’re spending your money.

Focus on food costs

One thing that all kakeibos focus on is food costs, since food spending is both one of the biggest budget categories and one of the easiest areas to cut down on costs. Rather than lumping every eating purchase and activity into ‘food’ as a category, the kind of purchase or activity is sub-categorized too. Traditional kakeibo categorize food purchases by the nutritional type: carbohydrates, meat and fish, dairy and eggs, vegetable and fruit, etc. It also serves as a way to see if food purchases are balanced health-wise. More recent, easier kakeigo may divide it into larger categories like regular food, fun food (snacks and drinks), eating out, and so on. There are kakeibos that combine budgeting functions with meal planning and recipe tracking too.

Cash envelope budget management

In Japan, most people get paid by direct deposit (checks are rarely used by anyone) and pay things like utility bills electronically. But for other household spending, cash is still the king. One often recommended budgeting method is to draw out the cash you need for a week or a month, depending on how you manage your budget, and physically divide it into envelopes that are marked by spending category. Once the cash in an envelope is gone, it’s gone - no cheating afterwards. It’s a remarkably effective method - it almost becomes a game to try to have as much money left over at the end of the month. And having your money in your hand, rather than as numbers on a screen or a piece of printout paper, makes it much more tangible.

Another cash-oriented saving trick (which isn’t that uniquely Japanese really, but is very popular there) is the coin saving method. At the end of every day, extra coins are put into a piggy bank or a jar, and when there’s enough accumulated, it’s either used for buying something extra or deposited into a bank account. Japanese ATMs even have coin deposit slots.

This is just a brief overview of the budget management methods discussed ad infinitum in Japanese magazines, books and blogs. Next time, I’ll talk about my favorite Japanese how-to-manage-money book for money dummies like me. (Update: Here’s my review of the book.)

Looking Forward to 2009 with a Wish List Notebook

maki — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 11:37:53 +0100

How was 2008 for you?

For me, this year was good and bad, like most years, but mostly it’s been a year of limbo. We decided to sell the house we live in, but procrastinated about actually making it ready until rather late in the year. Not the best of timing considering what’s been going on in the general economy, though thankfully Switzerland doesn’t seem to be as hard hit as some other countries when it comes to the real estate market. Nevertheless, the house is not sold yet, while more than half my possessions are packed away in boxes, and I’ve felt just unsettled.

For this reason though, I’m really looking forward to next year, when I’ll be moving to a new place. I don’t even know where it will be yet, but it’s very exciting to contemplate.

An unexpected side-effect of the house selling decision: I took it as an opportunity to do a deep level de-cluttering. I threw away, gave away, or sold tons of stuff, still have a couple of boxes full of books and junk that I no longer want, and about 70% of the things I wanted to keep are packed away in boxes. And, although I have had to unpack a few things, like my winter coats, I’ve come to realize that I really don’t need a lot of things, and that having a relatively clutter free house, where I can find things without rooting through piles of things, feels so good. This includes quite a lot of kitchen equipment (e.g. the combo panini maker/waffle iron, the ultra-modern was-a-gift glass fruit bowl that is too small to hold more than a couple of apples, the 3 extra almost identical ladles…) that is packed away, but I probably can let go and do without. And cookbooks. I’ve only really missed a few of the couple of hundred cookbooks I have. I think I’ll do another round of culling on them.

And looking forward to 2009…the Wish List Notebook

So, as I’ve said, I’m really looking forward to 2009. One thing I am doing today, is to open up a brand new notebook and write down a Wish List. I read about this in a little Japanese book called How to make a ‘Wishing Notebook’ that draws luck and happiness (運と幸せがどんどん集まる「願いごと手帖」のつくり方). Rather a bold claim, but I do like what it says.

Basically, it’s about making a list of things that you want to happen, in positive/affirmative terms. It says that To-Do lists are rather negative, since they often just list things you think you ‘have’ to do. I’m the queen of to-do lists that often don’t get completed, so this rather struck home with me.

Here are the recommended points for making a Wish List, paraphrasing:

Don’t make it a (must)-to-do list. Instead of “I have to do…” think in terms of “I want to do…”, “I want to be…” “I want to have…”. This way you can see what you really do want instead of what you think you want or ‘must’ do. The trick when making the Wish List is to pretend that these wishes will be granted just because you wish them, as if a fairy godmother was granting them for you. The very acts of writing down your wish list and reviewing it should make you feel happy, not stressed, and help you to define what you really want.

For example, instead of writing down “Join gym and get in shape”, you might write something like “I want to climb up that hill in my neighborhood effortlessly without huffing and puffing, and really enjoy the view”, or “I want to be able to play with my two-year old without becoming exhausted, so that we can really enjoy our time together”.
Don’t limit yourself when writing down your wishes. Don’t negate your wishes just because they may seem farfetched right now, or you see too many obstacles. Reach high and don’t be afraid of failure. So what if you, say, dream of going to Paris but can’t see how you’ll get the money? Write it down anyway.
Be as clear and specific as possible.Too many people write down things that are too vague, such as “Get organized” or “Lose weight” or “Become a better cook”. By being very specific you can really envision yourself in that situation, and once you actually achieve it you’ll feel a lot better too.

So for instance instead of “Get organized” you might write down “My desk is a pleasure to sit at. I can open a drawer and retrive things instantly. The surface is clear except for my computer and a few personal treasures, and a bud vase with a fresh flower placed it in every day.” Or instead of “Lose weight”: “I go to my favorite boutique and grab some pants in my size, but when I try them on in the dressing room they are too big for me now. I walk out with pants that are two sizes smaller.”
Think about utilizing things you already have. Not all wishes have to be ones pie-in-the-sky remote ones that you have to work on from scratch. Everyone has already been working on something for awhile. See what you have achieved so far and how you could expand on something. For example, if you have a blog, you could think about ways to improve it in some way. Or if you consider yourself a pretty good dancer, what about taking lessons to become a really great dancer? And so on.
Pair wishes that will require effort with fun things. Although it would be great to have a real fairy godmother that will grant your wishes without you even trying, that’s not possible with a lot of wishes. So, when you write down those harder wishes, try to combine them with a purely fun outcome.

Examples: “Get accepted by first choice university, and go to Disney World to celebrate!” Or “Get a promotion at work and a raise. Buy myself a brand new pair of shoes, because I can afford it!”
Include some wishes for what you want from people in your life too. Again, be as specific as possible. Don’t just limit yourself to your close family and friends either - extend it to anyone in your life that you’re concerned about. The example given in the book is where one person who was concerned about the inappropriate way a co-worker dressed for work wrote down “[name of person] learns how to dress in work-appropriate clothes”. She claims that this worked. I’m just a bit skeptical, but hey, you never know.
Stay away from negative words. Use positive words. Let’s say you hate your job and you want to get another one. Writing down “Quit my job” is negative, so instead write “Be in a workplace that is friendly where I feel a real sense of accomplishment”.
Make sure the wishes you write down are yours. Somewhat related to no. 6. If you have an empathic nature, you may right down wishes that you think you want, but you really don’t - it’s the people around you that want it. For example, are you really sure you want to move to a different state/country, or is it your partner that really wants it? Are you sure that you want Brand X car, or is your spouse that wants it, and would you rather take a luxurious vacation in the tropics?

The book recommends writing down about 30 wishes to start, and to date each one. Then, put the notebook away in a safe place, and don’t look at it for a while. This differs a lot from every other book I’ve read about this kind of thing I think, which mostly urge you to review your lists monthly, weekly, daily, hourly. The author calls it “Banking your wishes”. After a while, take the notebook out and look through it. Maybe none of the wishes have come true yet, but don’t worry. You may have even forgotten about some that you wrote down. For wishes that have come true, write in the date when it happened, and perhaps a short memo about it.

It may sound a bit New-Agey-touchy-feely, which I’m not that into normally. But something about this makes sense to me. The “Banking Wishes” concept does call for physically writing down the list on paper, instead of on some web site or in some ‘personal productivity’ app, and I really like that too. Anyway, I’m going to give it a try and see how it goes. At the very least, I love the relaxed approach.

In any case, I’d like to wish all the wonderful Just Hungry and Just Bento readers a Happy New Year! I’ll see you on the other side in 2009.

5th Anniversary Giveway Day 3: The Meandering Path of Just Hungry

maki — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 18:19:42 +0100

The header graphic of the 2nd design of Just Hungry displayed one of these 4 illustrations at random.

As I wrote yesterday, when I started Just Hungry I had no plans at all about the theme of the site, other than it would be about food. I think that you could get away with that back then, when the number of actual food blogs was probably still in the low hundreds.

The focus of this site has evolved in a rather meandering way, and it is now mainly about Japanese home cooking, healthy eating, and the occasional food related travel report. This was as much guided by what site readers seemed to want to read here, as much was what I wanted to write about. In my regular eating life, I don’t just cook and eat Japanese food, and I confess I don’t always eat healthily either! But in general, I’ve found that when I stray from my main themes too much, reader numbers tend to go down. Since I do enjoy writing about the themes that people seem to like reading, that’s really fine with me.

Nowadays there are probably thousands of blogs dedicated to food, and if you are starting a new food blog and want to built up a reader base, you probably want to focus on something specific that would garner attention. Indeed I think the reason why Just Bento has grown much faster than Just Hungry did in its early years is that the focus is much narrower. (The traffic numbers for Just Hungry are still nearly 2 times that of Just Bento on average, but Just Bento has more RSS feed readers already.) Two of the most successful food blogs out there that I admire greatly and were in existence when Just Hungry started out, Simply Recipes and Chocolate & Zucchini, have always been quite focused, which I think accounts for their popularity to a great extent.

Still, I am quite happy to have Just Hungry remain quite general in its focus, because it gives me the freedom to go off on a tangent if I want to. It’s an outlet for me as much as anything else. For instance, I stopped doing detailed episode recaps of Top Chef after seasons 1 and 2, when I realized that the recap posts were attracting the wrong kind of attention (as in, a disproportionate share of trolls). I was quite put off talking much about food-related TV shows after that. But when I found a show I really enjoyed recently on BBC, Supersize Me, I felt like doing detailed recaps again and quite enjoyed them - and this time, perhaps because it was about food history, not a reality show, they didn’t attract trolldom! And while I may write mostly about Japanese food or good-for-you food, I can occasionally bust out and write about something loaded with, say, butter and bacon. (I’m thinking bacon-chocolate-chip-cookies, what do you think?) That’s the beauty of having your very own stage, or blog, to shout from.

And now, today’s giveaway!

Just Hungry 5th Anniversary Giveaway Item 3: The Way To Cook by Julia Child

Please check the giveaway rules in the first post. Do try to remember to keep it to one comment per item/entry, thanks! (I’ve noticed that sometimes people seem to get impatient and post the same comment twice. I use a spam-preventing tool called Mollom, which sometimes can cause a short delay between the time your comment is entered and the time it appears. So please wait a bit before submitting another comment.) Remember: You need to give me your email address (in the email entry area) where I can contact you if you win, your name (or nickname), and your location (country).

Today’s giveaway is my favorite cookbook by far in English, The Way To Cook by Julia Child. It’s the one I turn to for recipes that work. As you might expect from the great lady Julia Child, it has lots of standard French recipes, but it also has a lot of great American classics like Boston Baked Beans, New England Boiled Dinner, and more. Published in 1989, it is timeless and classic, with beautiful photographs and clear, easy to follow recipes. (I wrote about my love for this book two years ago, and my feelings about it now are exactly the same.) It’s sure to become a much-loved book in your kitchen too.

Please note this book has standard U.S. measurements in cups, ounces and so on.

DEADLINE: Your comment/entry must be posted before Midnight Greenwich Mean Time on Saturday, December 6th. (You can find out the current GMT by typing in ‘What time is it GMT’ in Google. by the way.)

This giveaway is now closed. Thank you for participating! The winner will be announced next week. Check out the front page for the open giveaways you can still enter!

OMG, Turducken

maki — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 08:47:09 +0100

From the archives. I did this 3 years ago, and will likely never do it again. This is offered as a cautionary tale should you be contemplating creating a Turducken for your Thanksgiving or other holiday feast. Originally published on December 28, 2005.

I am not sure what came over us. We were planning a quiet, simple Christmas dinner - maybe roast a goose, or a nice chicken or two, or something. But then someone blurted out the infamous words.

"Hey, why don't we try a Turducken?"

In case you are not familiar with turducken (likely if you are not American), it is basically a Tur(key) stuffed with a duck(en) stuffed with a (chick)en. It supposedly originated in Louisiana, and has been popularized by famed New Orleans chef Paul Prudhomme.

Turducken has intrigued me for some time because of the sheer American-ness of the thing. America is many things, but one of the images it has around the world is that it is a land of abundance and excess. Recently retired ABC news presenter Ted Koppel once told the story of when his family immigrated to the U.S. from post-war England. On the radio, he heard the commercial for an antacid remedy, where the jingle went "Eat too much, Drink too much, take Brioschi, take Brioschi". The young Ted burst into tears, horrified that people could actually eat so much that they had to take medicine to cure it.

I had a somewhat similar experience when my family moved from England (where we'd spent 5 years), to White Plains, a suburb of New York. At the time England was not nearly as Americanized as it is now. We were absolutely stunned by the abundance, and color, and noise, of this new country we found ourselves in. Millions of TV channels! The huge portions at the diner where our mother took us for lunch! The chef's salad bowl for one at Swenson's that was the size of a bathtub. The too-big-even-with-two-hands sandwiches where the fillings were three times thicker than the bread slices! At my first school picnic, I remember staring at the huge tubs of ice filled with what seemed like unlimited cans of soda. Back in England, soda was a rare treat, but here the kids were downing it like it was tap water. It was just too much.

Anyway, when I first saw Chef Prudhomme presenting a Turducken on CNN some years ago, I was struck by the outrageous abundance of it. Three whole birds! Three kinds of stuffing! But I never really had the urge, let alone the chance, to actually attempt to make it. The recipe on Chef Paul's site suggests that one Turducken serves 24 to 30 people. I don't know about you, but I've never made food for a party that big, excepting nibble/cocktail things where you basically put out lots of hand-to-mouth-able food. A Turducken is clearly meant for a sit-down dinner, as the centerpiece of a table that is about to collapse from the weight of the food placed upon it. In other words, a quintessential American Thanksgiving.

Here in Switzerland the American holiday of Thanksgiving is unknown, but at Christmas there was the opportunity to make a Turducken once and for all. Since I am the Resident American in these parts, it was up to me to orchestrate the making of our Swiss Turducken.

I more or less followed Chef Paul's recipe, with adjustments. The gory tale (warning: some gruesome photos) follows.

Phase One: The Planning

Frankly, I didn't plan well enough. For anyone who thinks of attempting a Turducken, here is the first word of warning:

It's going to take at least 14 hours.

The Turducken takes about 8 hours to cook, plus it needs to rest for an hour, as per Chef Paul's instructions. And the preparation takes a long, long time.

Also:

You can't do it without an assistant.

Normally I tend to discourage help in the kitchen - it hampers my movements - unless the helpers are doing menial tasks such as washing vegetables, or washing the pots and bowls that get tossed in the sink vicinity. But Turducken cannot be conquered by a single warrior.

You need a food processor, and sharp boning knives, one per worker.

Phase Two: The Purchasing and the adjustments

Turkey is not a traditional holiday food here in Switzerland. For Christmas, normally a roast goose or something is prepared. However, due perhaps to the fact that Zürich is actually quite a cosmopolitan city, it was quite easy to procure a fresh, unfrozen, and disconcertingly large turkey. LIkewise, a tiny little chicken weighing in at around 800g was available (an Aargauer Güggeli, for those in Switzerland). The duck turned out to be a bit of a problem, in that none was available in any form. (Due to the amazing pre-planning capabilities of the parties involved, the shopping was done on the afternoon of the 24th.) A frozen goose was hastily purchased, but we told him sternly that he was a duck and to shut up. The frozen part turned out to be good after all, since we dumped the three birds into a cooler overnight. The goose duckie kept its big and little brothers cool and safe whilst it defrosted.

The recipe I followed more or less called for Cornbread Stuffing, Andouille Sausage Stuffing, and Shrimp Stuffing. I couldn't even contemplate adding even more meat to this whole mess, and shrimp is expensive here in this landlocked country, so we went for a cornbread stuffing, a generic sage-and-onion stuffing using breadcrumbs and a 2 cut-up bratwurst for flavor, and a mashed squash - chestnut - sweet potato stuffing.

Here's the rough shopping list for the adjusted Turducken:

1 8 kg fresh turkey
1 3 kg frozen goose duck
1 800g fresh Aargauer Güggeli aka a small chicken
1 bag of fine-ground Polenta Mehl, aka yellow cornmeal
1 huge bag of onions, about 12 medium total
1 big bunch of celery
1 head of garlic
1 large loaf of generic country-type white bread (or homestyle loaf or Toastbrot or pain de mie, if you're in Europe)
2 large sweet potatoes
1 pack of frozen chestnuts
1 wedge of winter squash
3 bell peppers
More butter than you ever imagined possible (have at least a kilo or 4 lbs of it ready)
6 large eggs
200g or about half a pound of coarsely ground sausage (I used a bratwurst; use sweet Italian sausage or similar)

In addition, the following items we already had were used:

Paul Prudhomme's Magic Seasoning - Meat. I had purchased a bunch of these convenient mixed seasoning powders in the U.S.(they don't really exist here) - besides a couple of Magic Seasonings, I also got some Old Bay, Emeril's, and generic Poultry Seasoning and a new one for me, Montreal Steak Seasoning. I hadn't planned on making Turducken back then, but it was very convenent to have the actual mix called for. (If I didn't have it though, I would have mixed paprika, pepper, salt, thyme, sage, and whatever other dried herbs and spices that struck my fancy to come up with something similar.)
Fresh sage, still growing bravely in the frosty snow-covered garden
Salt, pepper, sugar
White flour, baking powder, baking soda

Phase Two: Stuffing

Note: if you ever attempt Turducken, Make the stuffing the previous day.

We made things in the following order:

Cornbread for the cornbread stuffing. The recipe on the Chef Paul site for Cornbread is odd - 7 tsp of baking powder? That would surely taste chemical and awful. I scrounged the web for a suitable bland cornbread recipe and used this one from About.com.
A huge mound of basic Louisiana holy trinity - that is, chopped onion, celery, and bell peppers, plus some garlic (my addition), to flavor the stuffings. Actually I did the onion/garlic/celery and the bell pepper separately, since I only wanted to put the bell peppers in the cornbread stuffing. I used a whole bunch of celery, 10 onions, and about 6 cloves of garlic, plus 3 bell peppers. All were chopped in the food processor, then sauteed in butter until transparent. We ended up with about 4 cups of the onion/celery mix, plus a small mound of the bell pepper.
The sweet-potato-squash-chestnut stuffing. This was something I just came up with, to replace the shrimp stuffing in the original. I peeled and cut up the wedge of squash and the 2 sweet potatoes, and threw them into a pot of stock-cube stock with the frozen chestnuts and simmered all until tender. The stock was drained, and the whole was mashed roughly, leaving some chunks for texture. A small amount of the "holy trinity" minus the bell pepper was added, plus a lump of butter, and the whole seasoned. It's a bit sweet but very yummy even on its own.
The sage-onion-bit-of-sausage stuffing. This was basic bread-crumb stuffing. About 8 slices of bread where whirred into rough breadcrumbs in the food processor, to make about 8 cups of the stuff. A cup or so of the "holy trinity" was added, plus about 6 chopped up fresh sage leaves (about 1 tsp of dried sage). The whole was then moistened with stock-cube stock until moist but not runny. Chunked up and sauteed bratwurst was added, and the whole seasoned.
Once the cornbread was baked, we made the cornbread stuffing. It's basically the same as the sage-onion-breadcrumb stuffing except that crumbled cornbread was used of course, and the bell pepper was added along with the rest of the "holy trinity". The seasoning was salt, pepper and the Magic Seasonings. Sage was not added.

Phase Three: Poultry Surgery: The De-boning

The time had come, to confront the birds. They all had to be almost completely deboned. I have cut up my share of chickens many times before, but had never deboned a whole bird. It's a messy, slippery, exhausting business.

The instructions on Chef Paul's site are very thorough. The only thing I didn't do was use a hammer to break bones and joints - I'm morbidly afraid of bird-bone splinters getting stuck in my throat (or worse, someone else's throat due to my cooking). All the deboning was done by patient, tedious cutting away of flesh and sinew from bone. When joints were encountered, they were just slowly cut through. No violence was used. (Well, apart from the slashing.)

This made the whole deboning process extremely long - more than 3 hours. At one point I got leg cramps because I was standing in one position for too long. I also nicked my fingers with the boning knife 5 times. (My assistant, more careful, only nicked his fingers twice.)

The most difficult bird was the turkey, simply because of its size. If I were to do this again I'd start with the chicken and work myself up to the monster. As it was, we started with the monster. For the turkey, a strong-armed assistant is essential to hoist it and turn it.

Here are some pictures of the turkey, in the process of being flayed. The whole bird was completely deboned, including the legs and the upper wings. We cut the lower wings off.

Phase Four: Time to sew up the patient

At this point I was almost ready to call it quits. I was covered in Bird Fat, my legs kept cramping up (yes I need to get into better shape), my assistant was showing signs of wanting to make a getaway. But the mound of bird had cost a total of about 120 CHF (US $100 or so). Besides, there were people to feed. We soldiered on.

The instructions called for putting each flayed bird on a sheet and spreading with stuffing. We did this, only to realize that the birds weren't also seasoned. We scraped off the stuffing, seasoned, and re-grouped.

The chicken was small enough to gather up in one hand and place in the duck. The duck could be handled with two hands, to place in the turkey. But then, we had to close up the turkey. We tried toothpicks (ha!) and skewers (we didnt have enough), but it was inevitable - the bird had to be sewn up.

This was accomplished with some kitchen twine, which we miraculously had (the last time I used it was for delicately bundling together a bouquet garni), and a tapestry needle. My assistant held the skin of the patient turkey while I laboriously pushed the needle through. At the end, he ended up looking like this.

Phase Five: Finally, into the oven

The assembled Turducken was very, very heavy, and it took the two of us to turn the thing over onto its back, so that it didn't look so much like a Frankenbird. It barely fit on the largest baking pan we had, with the legs tucked in.

Another problem was discovered once its breast side was facing us - the skin had split quite a bit, and had to be sewn together. This ended up making him look a bit like he had on a corset, but I was fairly sure the string would sort of 'burn off' and not look so gruesome once it was all cooked. (I was right.)

Well seasoned all over, the Turducken finally went into the oven, at about 105° C (the recipe calls for 225° F) The timer was set for 4 hours.

I went to wash up and take a nap. (The assistant had enough energy left over to dump the bones into two large pots with onion, celery, bay leaves and water to make stock.)

Four hours in, an aluminum foil tent was placed on him, and 3 hours more cooking ensued (the probe thermometer stated it was at temperature, 75° C, at that time. I think it cooked faster than in the Chef Paul recipe because we used a convection oven.). Then a 1 hours worth of resting time.

We watched movies, 3 in total, while we waited.

The result

Like a pretty girl with no bone structure, the Turducken is rather pretty in person but is not very photogenic. It sort of looks like a short overweight man lying on the beach at Ibiza.

We made some gravy from the drippings and the bone-stock. As for side dishes - we were planning some, but the sheer size of the Turducken was so overwhelming that we just made a green salad.

(Another bit of great planning: we didn't have any dishes big enough to hold the Turducken, so it was just carved and served from the baking plate.)

Post Mortem

As for the tasting: well, it was a bit disappointing, though no one complained (and an amazing amount of the big bird did disappear). I was hoping that the slow cooking would somehow make the turkey come out moister, but the breast meat was still rather dry. In addition, the Turducken has one big fundamental flaw - the skin of the duck is enclosed, so the fatty skin comes out flabby and inedible. If you have ever roasted a duck or goose you know that the crispy skin is the major attraction. Duck and goose are not cheap to buy, so I don't know if I would want to waste one in this way and not be able to enjoy the skin at all. The turkey skin comes out very crisp, but is too tough and leathery to me, though some others did enjoy it.

The stuffings were very good, and the turkey legs, stuffed full, were quite good. The inside part other than the turkey were all delicioius, as a matter of fact. This makes me think that perhaps a Ducken (duck stuffed with chicken) or Goosen might be more successful - and easier to consume - than a Turducken. I think I will try this some time.

But not for a long, long while. At the moment, the mere thought of deboning another bird make me want to turn into a strict vegan. Next year, we are having a nice big bowl of pasta.

Postscript: the leftover turkey tasted a lot better than it did on the actual day.

Postscript 2: For Christmas 2006, we did a simple roast goose.