vegan

Nanakusagayu: Seven greens rice porridge to rest the feast-weary belly

maki — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 05:11:41 +0100

The more I study old Japanese customs, the more I am impressed by the logical thinking behind many of them, even when examined with modern eyes. One of these the custom of partaking of a bowl of nanakusagayu on the seventh day of the New Year, which supposedly started in the Heian Period (around the 12th century), in the refined court of Kyoto. Nanakusa means seven greens, and kayu (or to use the honorific term, okayu (お粥)), is rice porridge. The Imperial Court, now in Tokyo, still has a nanakusagayu ceremony on the morning of January 7th.

Okayu is the traditional thing to eat when you’re sick; it’s the Japanese equivalent of chicken soup in Jewish families. (At the time nanakusagayu was introduced, white rice was also a luxury food only available to the upper classes.) The nanakusa or seven greens are supposed to be medicinal, to help digestive system that is stuffed and exhausted after days of feasting to recover, as well as being harbingers of spring. Health and longevity in a bowl, in other words. Even if you examine this with modern eyes it still makes sense; white rice porridge is very easy to digest, and the dark greens add vitamins. Only salt is used to season the dish - no oils or other ingredients that may be too stimulating or heavy on the tired belly.

In Japan you can buy the seven traditional greens conveniently packaged together at any supermarket. The seven traditional greens are seri, nazuna, gogyou, hakobe, hotokenoza, suzuna, suzushiro. We had to memorize these in school as I recall - and I guess I still remember them! I’m sure they were used originally just because they grew in the Kyoto area in January. It’s a bit difficult to obtain all of these greens outside of Japan though. The last two may be not too bad, since suzuna is turnip greens (kabu no ha in modern standard Japanese) and suzushiro (daikon no ha) is daikon radish leaves. But you can really use any dark leafy greens that you can obtain locally. You don’t even have to have seven, though you may want to if you believe in lucky numbers. The combination that I have used here is:

Flat leaf parsley leaves
Baby spinach leaves
Mache or lamb’s lettuce (Nüsslisalat in Swiss-German)
Arugula (rucola/rocket) leaves
Daikon radish sprouts
Swiss chard leaves
Dark green kale

All easy to get for me at the local markets or supermarkets here in Switzerland in early January.

You could use other greens such as:

Turnip greens
Collard greens
Beet greens (the red parts add a bit of color)
Dark green cabbage
Komatsuna
Sprouting broccoli leaves
Dandelion leaves

Ideally you would eat this for breakfast on January 7th, but you could eat it on any cold winter day when you want to feel virtuous and warm inside and out.

Recipe: Nanakusagayu using local greens

Makes 4 servings

Since this is such a simple dish, make sure to use the best quality ingredients you can. The quality of the rice in particular is important, as is the rinsing and drying process. Use fresh greens and a salt that really tastes good.

1 cup white medium grain or Japanese style rice (see Looking at Rice).
Mixed dark leafy greens
8 cups water
Sea salt, to taste

Rinse the rice with several changes of water (see How to wash rice) until the water runs clear. Drain the rice into a colander, and leave for at least 30 minutes to dry.

Wash the greens. If you are using any slightly bitter or tough greens like kale, collard greens, daikon radish leaves (not sprouts), turnip greens, puntarelle or cabbage, blanch them briefly in boiling water, drain and refresh under cold running water. Tender greens can be used as-is. Chop up all the greens. You should end up with about 1/4 cup of cooked greens or 1 cups of raw greens, or a mix of both.

Put the rice and the water in a heavy bottomed pan (traditionally you might use a donabe or earthenware pot, but I just use a cast iron enameled pot). Bring up to a boil, then lower the heat to a gentle simmer.

Cook, while stir up the rice from the bottom of the pan occasionally as it cooks, so that it doesn’t burn or stick, for about 40 minutes, until the rice porridge is creamy, like a loose risotto. Add 1 tsp. salt and stir. Just before serving, add the prepped greens and stir in well. Serve piping hot, with additional salt on the side that people can add to taste to their bowls.

Ahead-of-time note

If you just don’t have the time to be stirring a pot of rice porridge in the morning, you can prepare it the night before, but it won’t be nearly as good — it will become a bit gluey. Heat up with a little additional water, and add the greens to the hot porridge.

Your rice cooker may have a rice porridge or okayu setting; if so, follow their instructions. Add the greens to the hot porridge and stir in, and shut the rice cooker lid for a minute or two before serving.

Tales of okayu

As I mentioned, okayu, made with plain white rice, is still the go-to ‘when you’re sick’ meal for Japanese people. I still go for okayu myself when I am not feeling well. It comes in different rice to water ratios. Once, when I was 11 years old and home with a bad cold, I rebelled against the okayu my mother had made, and demanded she make me ‘butter rice’ - basically fried rice made with butter, a favorite dish of mine at the time. She made it for me, shaking her head, sure that I wouldn’t be able to eat it. Sure enough, as soon as I inhaled the smell of fried butter, I got sick and threw up. I haven’t really been able to eat ‘butter rice’ since.

When my little sister Meg was 5, she caught a summer cold that turned into a serious case of dehydration, and she ended up in the hospital for a month. For a while she was on an IV drip, and then they gradually introduced bland, easy to digest food, which all tasted awful. Horrible hospital food is a universal thing it seems. At the center of her meals was gosai no gobugayu, a standard hospital term for “five-part kayu (1 part rice to 5 parts water) for five year olds”. This rather gluey, faintly grey substance, which always arrived lukewarm, had no salt in it at all, and she hated it, though she made and effort to eat it since she was so hungry.

The little girl in the bed next to hers was there because of something non-digestive system related (a broken leg if I remember correctly), so she could eat anything she liked, including such fragrant meals such as curry rice and katsudon, that her mother would bring in from outside. How my sister would stare at her meals piteously, with tears in her eyes!

Meg became obsessed with food, and going to the bathroom. She couldn’t get the former, and had a terrible time with the latter because of a lack of fiber in her bland diet. She made everyone who visited her draw her pictures of her favorite foods. She also made us draw pictures of poo. It was rather funny to see the big sheets of paper around her bed, covered with little drawings of chocolate parfaits, ice cream boats, chicken legs and sushi rolls, juxtaposed with little curly mounds of poo, even a ‘poo necklace’ that my father had drawn for her.

(Later in life Meg trained to be a chef, and was a pastry chef at Toraya for a while. She’s now gone onto a different field entirely, but she, like the rest of our family, is still obsessed with food. And she’ll probably hate me for writing about her gosai no gobugayu summer on my blog!)

Kenchinjiru, Japanese Zen Buddhist vegetable soup

maki — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 10:01:09 +0100

It’s been a cold and snowy winter so far around these parts, which usually means soups and stews for dinner. This classic Japanese soup is hearty yet low in calories, full of fiber, and just all around good for you. It helps to counteract all the cookies and sweets you might be indulging in at this time of year.

The name kenchinjiru (けんちん汁）derives from the Zen Buddhist temple where it was first made (or so it’s claimed), Kencho-ji （建長寺）in the historical feudal town of Kamakura. Since kenchinjiru is a shojin ryouri or temple cuisine dish, the basic version given here is vegan. It’s still very filling because of all the high fiber vegetables used. You could make a very satisfying vegan meal just from this soup and some brown rice.

While you could vary the root vegetables, one vegetable that is key to this soup is burdock root or gobo. Without its earthy flavor, the soup just isn’t kenchinjiru to me. Burdock root is sold at most Asian supermarkets. Here’s a photo of how they look, packaged:

I got the ones in the photo some time ago from Nara Foods in Port Washington, NY, but I spotted three huge roots sold at H Mart for a mere 3 dollars (it may be called “u-eong”, which is its name in Korean). Burdock root is supposed to make your body warm according to macrobiotic principles. I am not sure about the science of that, but who knows - it may account for why this low-calorie soup is as warming to me on a cold winter’s day as a hearty beef bourgignon.

Recipe: Kenchinjiru

6 to 8 hearty servings

8 cups (2l) vegan dashi stock, or 8 cups of water with vegan (konbu seaweed based) dashi granules
3 medium carrots
12 inch/ 30 cm length of burdock root or gobo
8 inch / 25 cm piece of daikon radish
6 to 8 raw shiitake mushrooms
3 large or 4 medium taro root (satoimo) or 3 medium potatoes
1 block (10 oz / 250g) firm tofu
1 small block konnyaku (optional)
1 tbs. dark sesame oil
2 tsp. sea salt
2 tbs. soy sauce
sansho or black pepper

Put the dashi stock in a large pot and heat it up as you prep the vegetables and so on.

Peel the burdock root (a peeler is the most handy thing for this) and slice on the diagonal as thinly as you can manage. Put into a bowl of cold water to get rid of any bitterness, and to stop it from turning black.

Peel the carrots and daikon radish, and cut lengthwise into half. Slice fairly thinly (thicker than the burdock, around 1/8 inch / 1/4 cm thickness).

Cut the stems off the shiitake mushrooms, and slice the caps into halves or quarters. Alternatively, leave them whole and make a crisscross decorative cut on the top of the caps, as shown in the photo.

Take the konnyaku out of the packaging and drain off the smelly water, Cut in half lengthwise, then slice thinly. Blanch in boiling water for a few minutes, then drain into a colander.

Peel the taro root or potatoes, and cut into chunks. Note that taro root is slimy, so leave this task until you’ve cut everything else up, since your cutting board will have to be washed afterwards anyway!

Drain the tofu well in a colander, then put it in the middle of a clean kitchen towel or a few layers of paper towel. Gather the towel around the tofu, and squeeze gently to get rid of excess water. Open up the towel, and crumble the tofu up with your hands, so that it looks like scrambled egg.

Heat up a large frying pan or wok with the sesame oil over high heat. Add the drained burdock root and stir fry for 2-3 minutes, then add the other vegetables, konnyaku and tofu. Stir fry for 4-5 minutes, put it all in the pot with the heated dashi stock. Add 1 tsp. salt, and lower the heat so that the soup is just very gently bubbling. simmer for 15 to 20 minutes until the vegetables are tender. Periodically skim off any scum that forms on top of the soup as it cooks. Top up with more dashi or water if there seems to be too little.

Add the soy sauce, and taste; it may or may not need more salt or soy sauce. Add some if you think it needs it.

Serve in large soup bowls rather than small Japanese miso soup bowls. My mother used to have a set of extra-large bowls just for kenchinjiru. Optionally sprinkle on a little sansho or black pepper.

Variations

Miso soup variation

As you can see, this is a clear soup, not a miso soup (not all Japanese soups have miso!) You can add miso if you like. Add about 3/4 cup of miso to start, and add more if you think it’s needed. Omit the salt and reduce the soy sauce to 2 tablespoons.

Pork version

If you add about 3 oz / 100 g of thinly sliced pork, cut into 1/2 inch / 1 cm pieces, to this dish instead of the tofu, it becomes tonjiru or butajiru （豚汁), which literally means ‘pork soup’. Tonjiru is usually a miso soup, (follow the miso variation above) but it can be clear too. Add the white part of a leek, sliced, to the vegetable mix.

Fish paste products

Many people like to add sliced chikuwa or other fish paste products. See my oden post for more about these fish paste products, called nerimono. If you do use chikuwa or similar fish product, use a traditional bonito flakes based dashi stock instead of the vegan dashi.

Other things you could add or substitute

You can use turnips instead of the daikon radish, and sweet potatoes instead of the potato or taro root. Sliced onions can be a sweet addition, or use finely chopped green onions as a garnish.
Add ground or chopped up chicken instead of or in addition to the tofu.

Another way to cut the burdock root

The traditional way of cutting burdock root for this dish is to shave it into thin slivers, rather as you would sharpen a pencil (this is called sasagaki; burdock cut like this is called sasagaki gobo). This can be a bit tricky to do unless you have a very sharp knife, so I just slice it thinly instead.

(Don’t forget to put your bid in for Menu For Hope before Christmas day!)

Baked Kuri Squash and Apple Maple Pudding (and it's vegan too)

maki — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 05:33:06 +0100

This very healthy squash pudding from the archives manages to still taste good. I think it would make a very good side dish to a Thanksgiving dinner, from which vegans and vegetarians can partake of without feeling deprived. It is not that sweet - probably less sweet than many traditional side dishes. I hope you give it a try! Originally published November 19, 2007, and tweaked a bit - note the addition of a little miso!

You know how certain diehard carnivores react to words like ‘vegan’ ‘no dairy’ and, gasp, ‘tofu in a sweet dish’. There’s no reason to tell them that all of these phrases are applicable to this smooth, creamy baked squash pudding, until they’ve actually eaten and enjoyed. It even is devoid of white sugar, though it is sweetened with maple syrup. The simple combination of creamy squash pudding, flavored and sweetened with real maple syrup with the pure sweetness of the squash shining through, and sweet-sourness of the apples works perfectly together. (The tofu merely adds the creamy texture; you don’t taste it at all.) It’s rich, but rests very lightly on your stomach - not a bad thing after a heavy main course.

This recipe is adapted quite heavily from one in a Japanese cookbook, Saisai Sweets (Vegetable Sweets), by the wonderful Yumiko Kano, who I have mentioned previously. The original recipe called for soy milk, but I’ve used silken tofu instead for a richer, thicker consistency. I’ve omitted other things like rum-soaked raisins, and upped the maple syrup for more sweetness.

Vegan Baked Kuri Squash and Apple Maple Pudding (or crustless pie)

This will make a pudding or a crustless pie that is about 10 inches / 28cm or so in diameter, enough for 6 to 8 servings (though I’ve seen one disappear in one person recently).

I’ve given weight measurements rather than cup measurements, because the proportion of squash to tofu is what’s the most important thing here. Scale up or down according to your needs.

1 lb (450-500g) of cooked red kuri or Hokkaido squash, skin on, or roasted butternut squash or other sweet, dense winter squash, flesh only (see below for how to cook the squash)
1 block (300g / about 11 oz) silken tofu, well drained
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
A few gratings of nutmeg (about 1/4 tsp.)
2 Tbs. neutral tasting vegetable oil, such as sunflower
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1 Tbs. mild, smooth white miso
8 Tbs. real maple syrup (not ‘pancake syrup’ or ‘imitation maple syrup’), plus extra for drizzling on top
2 medium sweet eating apples
1 Tbs. lemon juice

Equipment needed: food processor, a pie or quiche or tart dish

If you are doing this for Thanksgiving, cook the squash ahead of time - up to 2-3 days in advance.

To cook the red kuri squash, either: cut in half and scoop out the seeds and fluffy bits in the middle. Poke several holes in the skin side with the point of your knife. Lay cut side down in a baking dish filled with about 1/2 inch / 1 cm of water. Bake at 350° F / 180° C until soft - a skewer poked through the skin side should go through easily. Drain away any left over water.

Alternate method in a pan: de-seed, de-fluffy bit and cut up the squash into about 1 inch / 2cm chunks. Put in a very heavy pan (such as a cast iron enamel one) with enough water to come up to about 1/2 of the squash chunks. Simmer, lid on, until the chunks are tender; drain away any excess water.

If you are using butternut squash, which has a much harder skin than red kuri squash, bake in the oven cut in half as above until tender.

Cool the squash after cooking to about room temperature. Store, tightly covered, in the refrigerator.

To make the pudding:

Preheat the oven to 350°F / 180°C (if it’s not already on of course.)

Put the cooked squash (skin and all if you are using red kuri squash - see notes), tofu, oil, salt, miso and maple syrup into the bowl of a food processor with the steel chopping blade. Process until totally smooth - you may need to scrape down the sides of the bowl a few times. Taste at this point, and see if you want to add more maple syrup (but remember you will be drizzling more syrup on top later).

In the meantime, peel and core two medium eating apples. (I used Cox’s Orange. You want a sweet, eating apple, not a hard, sour cooking apple here. Golden Delicious is a universally available type that will work fine here.) Slice into thin wedges, and toss into some acidulated water (water with a little lemon juice in it) to stop the slices from turning brown. Drain well and pat dry with a clean kitchen towel.

Fill the tart or pie dish with the pumpkin cream. Arrange the apples in a nice pattern on the cream, pushing down each slice a bit (they will sink a little, but this is a very dense cream.) Drizzle the top with more maple syrup. Alternatively, sprinkle with maple sugar if you have it.

Bake for about 30 minutes, until the top is lightly browned.

This pudding, or crustless pie, is great warm, at room temperature or chilled.

Notes

If you don’t have real maple syrup, try a flavorful clear runny honey instead.
If you can’t get a hold of kuri squash, you can substitute another squash, preferably a kabocha type, that is denser and sweeter than most other types. Try butternut squash, rouge d’Etampes or Muscat (Musque de Provence). Do not use regular pumpkin - it is far too watery and fibrous.
The orange skin of the kuri squash cooks up quite soft, and the orange adds to the vibrant color of the pudding. If using other, more tough-skinned squash varieties, just scoop out the flesh and discard the skins.
If you don’t care about keeping it all vegan, use butter instead of the oil. Dot the top with more butter. Butter does tend to improve everything.
Try ripe pears instead of apples.

Black bean vegan mini-burgers

maki — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 09:23:36 +0200

From the archives. This is terrific freshy made and hot, but is even better cold, so it’s great for bentos. Originally published in November 2007.

Over the past couple of years as I’ve pursued largely vegetarian eating, I’ve gradually accumulated a small arsenal of small, round bean patties or balls, which are great as snacks, for bento boxes, and just for dinner, in my regular rotation. This one was inspired by one of the first beany-round thing I made, the samosa-like lentil snacks from The Hungry Tiger, and a Japanese vegan cooking book called Saisai Gohan (Vegetable Meals) by Yumiko Kano. (Yumiko Kano is currently my favorite cookbook author in any language, and I’ll talk more about her down the line.) I’ve adjusted a few things to make them gluten-free.

These have the earthy, deep flavor of the black beans that is enhanced by the spices and the sauce, and they are delicious hot or at room temperature. Even diehard carnivores like them. They’re really perfect for bento lunches, and I’ve used it in the all-vegan Bento no. 5 on Just Bento. I also used them as a pita-sandwich filling in Bento no. 6.

I have described two methods of cooking these: in the oven, which is good for making them in quantity, and in a frying pan, which is perfect for making a few at a time.

Black bean vegan mini burgers

This amount makes about 12 tiny or 8 small burgers; multiply to suit your needs proportionately. It keeps pretty well in the refrigerator for a few days, and freezes well too, so it makes sense to make in some quantity.

For the burgers:

2 cups (500ml) of cooked or canned black beans, drained
3 tsp. fermented black beans, or 2 tsp. miso
1 small piece ginger, finely chopped to produce about 2 tsp. chopped ginger
Green onions, to produce about 3 Tbs. chopped
1/2 cup chopped fresh mushrooms
2 Tbs. chopped walnuts
1/2 cup rice flour
1 tsp falafel spice mix, or cumin powder
2 Tbs. or so of olive oil

For the sauce:

4 Tbs. tomato paste
a few drops of Tabasco
1 Tbs. maple syrup
A little hot water to thin out the sauce, if needed

Suggested equipment: a food processor

If you’re going to be baking them, preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F.

Chop up the ginger, green onions and mushrooms finely, and sauté in about half of the olive oil until the mushrooms are wilted and brownish.

In the meantime, chop up the nuts. Add to the sauté pan to toast a bit.

If using the fermented black beans, chop finely until they’re almost a paste.

Reserve a couple of spoonfuls of the beans. Mash up the rest of the beans with a masher or in the food processor. Put the fermented black beans in and process until it’s fairly smooth. Add the spice and rice flour and process again. Add the sautéed vegetables, the reserved beans and the nuts, and pulse-process until mixed (you want some of the texture to remain).

Divide the mixture into 8 to 12 portions. With moistened hands, make into flat little patties.

If baking in the oven, oil a baking sheet and then brush the tops with a bit more oil. Bake for about 10 minutes, flip then bake 5 minutes more.

If cooking in a frying pan, heat up the pan with the rest of the oil. Fry the burgers until crispy, carefully flip over and fry the other side.

In the meantime, mix the sauce. Brush the sauce onto the hot burgers, or serve separately for dipping.

Good hot or at room temperature.

Notes

Fermented black beans (dul see) are actually black soy beans. You can get them at any general Asian or Chinese grocery store. You can use miso instead if you have that on hand, though it will be a bit less salty and well, different. Black bean sauce can be used also, but be aware that that has some wheat flour in it if you’re gluten-conscious.

If you don’t want to bother with making the sauce, use your favorite ketchup with a few drops of Tabasco added.

These keep well for a few days in the fridge, though they are better if you re-heat them to take the chill off before eating. They also freeze well.

Rice flour is available at Indian grocery stores (red rice flour is a bit different and interesting to use here), or in Japanese grocery stores where it’s known as joushinko. It’s mainly used here as a binder, so you can use regular wheat flour instead if gluten-sensitivity is not an issue.

Variation: Add fresh chopped coriander.

Zucchini (Courgettes) braised in rosemary infused olive oil

maki — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 14:23:28 +0200

I have not doing a lot of serious cooking lately, at least not the kind that results in a useful blog post. Most of my cooking energies have been expended on another project, which is wearing me down a bit (more on that at a later time). What I have been cooking for actual meals is very simple food, that requires minimal kitchen time, though not necessarily quick to cook.

The subject of this article is zucchini (courgette) slices that are slowly braised in a fragrant oil. It requires perhaps 10 minutes of actual kitchen time, but an hour or more to complete. Days even, if you choose one option. You don’t need to hover over the pan for that time, but you do have to be nearby, to keep an eye on the hot oil, not to mention any errant pets, children or clumsy adults that wander in.

The wait and vigilance are worth it though. The zucchini slices, scented with the pine-mintiness of rosemary, become brown and sticky and almost caramelized on the surface, and soft and creamy on the inside. It’s great as an accompaniment to roast or panfried meats or fish, or as part of a vegetarian meal (try it with pasta). I could have it every day, just on its own, if it weren’t for the rather ruinous effect it has on my waistline, even if the oil is good-for-you olive oil.

This is the taste of late summer in Provence for me.

Recipe: Zucchini (Courgettes) braised in rosemary oil

Preliminaries: For optimal results, make some rosemary infused olive oil. Just put some good olive oil in a clean glass jar, about two thirds of the way up, then stuff the jar full with rosemary. No garlic, no chilis, and certainly not a dainty single sprig. Put the lid on the jar and leave it out on your countertop. Give it a shake when you see it, once a day at least. In a few days you will have a headily rosemary-scented olive oil. At this point you can leave the rosemary in to make the scent even stronger, or remove the rosemary.

If you are in a hurry, you can scent your olive oil as you cook the zucchini slices by putting a couple of sprigs into the simmering oil. Beware of the rosemary burning though, which will impart a bitter taste.

3 to 4 small to medium zucchini (courgettes)
Rosemary infused olive oil, or olive oil plus a couple of sprigs of fresh rosemary, or rosemary hydrolat if you have it (see notes below about hydrolat)
Salt

Slice the zucchini (courgettes) into 1/2 inch / 1cm thick rounds. Pat the slices dry with paper towels or a kitchen towel.

Pour 1/2 inch / 1cm oil into a large frying pan, and turn the heat up to HIGH. Put the zucchini in one layer in the pan - do not overcrowd the pan. Keep the heat on HIGH until the oil starts to bubble up rapidly, then lower the heat to low-medium, or to the point where the oil is quietly bubbling around the zucchini.

Leave like this for at least 30 minutes, until the undersides of the zucchini slices turn golden brown. Turn the slices over, and cook until the other sides are also golden brown.

Do not add salt during the cooking process! Salt will draw out the moisture from the zucchini, which is not what we want here. We want the moisture to stay inside while the surface gets crisp and caramelized.

Once the zucchini slices are darkly golden brown (they will have shrunk quite a lot too), remove them from the oil. You can drain them on paper towels to get rid of excess oil if you like. If you are using hydrolad, add about 1/2 teaspoonful at most to the hot zucchini slices and toss rapidly right now. Add a pinch of salt - don’t oversalt, or you’ll mask the delicate rosemary scent.

Serve piping hot, or at room temperature.

You can save the cooking oil for another dish. If you mix the braised zucchini with pasta, sauté the freshly cooked pasta in a bit of the oil. Wonderful!

Chef Erick Vedel’s Provençal cooking classes in Arles

I learned the slow braising technique at a wonderful class in Provençal cooking given by Erick Vedel in Arles, the town in Provence made famous by Vincent Van Gogh (he left an ear there, literally). Chef Erick scented his zucchini with mint hydrolat - hydrolat is the water that result when herbs and other plants are steam-distilled for their essential oils. Getting a hold of hydrolat may be a problem, unless you have some lab equipment to do your own, so I’ve used rosemary-infused oil instead (I just prefer rosemary with zucchini instead of mint). If you can get a hold of either rosemary or mint hydrolat, by all means use that - I’ve included instructions in the recipe. Using a drop or two of edible essential oil would work too, but be very sparing or you’ll overwhelm the zucchini.

I’ll have more about Chef Erick’s classes in later posts, but in the meantime if you’re interested in a great culinary experience and you’ll be in the area, I can highly recommend his classes. (If you’re a bit persnikety about order and cleanliness and stuff, be forewarned though, his kitchen is let’s say, well lived in.) Here he’s showing us how he distills lavender, using his huge antique copper distiller.

Erick Vedel’s website

Incidentally, I haven’t really posted a lot about my time here in Provence (though we have actually been living here for the better part of 6 months or so, with occasional forays elsewhere) because I have been scared of jinxing our chances of being able to stay here permanently, if I talked about it or something. I know, irrational. Things are looking up in that area now…once we are officially and truly settled you’re likely to read a lot more about it here. (That is in case this small mention has jinxed it! Ack. ^_^;)

Nasu no miso dengaku: Japanese slow-roasted eggplant with dengaku sauce

maki — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 09:02:04 +0200

It’s still summertime, but I can feel the cooler days of fall coming, especially in the evenings when the temperature is dropping just a bit more than it did a few weeks ago. This is one of the best times of the year for food lovers, especially if you love vegetables.

Eggplants (aubergines) are in high season now and will be around for at least another month or so. While you can get them year-round, they are at their best of course in their natural season.

This is a classic Japanese way of serving eggplant, and it’s really easy. All you do is to slowly roast the eggplant until tender, either in the oven or on the stovetop in a frying pan, then serve with a glossy, salty-sweet dengaku (田楽）sauce. I could eat this every day, with a bowl of plain rice and some cold mugicha to wash it down.

Recipe: Slow roasted eggplant (aubergine) with dengaku sauce (nasu no miso dengaku 茄子の味噌田楽)

Serves 1-2, depending on what else is served at the same meal.

1 large, round or 2-3 small, fresh eggplants. Try to get ones with thin skins.
Olive or sesame oil

For the dengaku sauce:

3 Tbs. miso. Here I’ve used a haccho miso (八丁味噌）with some texture to it, but any miso you like will do. See Japanese miso primer.
1 Tbs. sugar
1 Tbs. sake
1 Tbs. mirin
1 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1 tsp. olive oil or sesame oil
water

Prepare the eggplant, according to the type:

If you’re using a big round one: Cut off the blossom end, and reserve to use as a decoration.

If you are using a big long one (e.g. the standard Italian or American type eggplant): Take off the blossom end (optionally reserve for use as decoration) and cut the eggplant into thick slices crosswise, or into half lengthwise. (Note that I don’t recommend this type of eggplant for this, since the skin tends to be rather tough. Choose one of the other kinds if you can.)

If you’re using a small thin Asian-type eggplant: Cut in half lengthwise, keeping the blossom end on for decorative purposes.

Rub the cut surfaces of the eggplant with a little sesame or olive oil. Roast it in an oven at 200°C / 400°F, cut side down and tented with some loose foil until tender (the time depends on the size of the eggplant, but it’s about 10 minutes for a small eggplant, 30 minutes for a big eggplant, with the slices somewhere in between). It’s tender when you can pierce through easily with a skewer. You can try cooking the eggplant in a toaster oven too, but I haven’t tested this myself so you’re on your own as to timing and so on.

Alternatively, you can slow-roast the eggplant in a dry frying pan. Place cut-side down in a non-stick pan, and cover loosely with some aluminum foil. Pan-roast until tender over medium-low heat, turning once. This method is especially suited for small eggplant - it takes 5-10 minutes and doesn’t heat up the kitchen as much as the oven method.

While the eggplant cooks, prepare the dengaku sauce. Combine all the ingredients in a small pan, and set over low heat. Mix the sauce vigorously with a wooden spoon, until the sauce turns glossy. Adjust the consistency by adding drops of water. It should not be too runny, but should flow thickly, rather like a thick ketchup.

Serve the eggplant warm, coated with sauce.

About dengaku sauce

Dengaku (田楽 - the characters mean ‘rice paddy’ + ‘harmony’ or ‘music’ or ‘play’) is a classic miso based sauce. There are many variations, but the basics are the same: miso with sweetener, a little oil for adding gloss, and sake and/or mirin for added flavor. Sometimes a little soy sauce is added, or dashi stock instead of water, or even MSG. My version comes from my mother, of course, and is quite simple.

You can make dengaku sauce in quantity and keep it in a closed jar in the refrigerator, but I don’t bother since it’s so easy to make fresh. If you do make it and store it, warm it up a bit before using.

Dengaku sauce is terrific on other grilled or roasted vegetables, firm tofu, blanched konnyaku, and so on. It’s a bit sweet for my taste for serving on meat and fish, but you can try it out!

Add spice to dengaku-sauced foods by sprinkling on some shichimi tohgarashi (7-ingredient pepper, see Essential staples of a Japanese pantry).

Big, fat, round eggplant

These are the eggplants I used for the version at the top of the page, bought at my favorite farmer’s market in Provence:

You might be thinkng, “But Japanese eggplants are small and thin and cute!” Well the standard ones are, but in Kyoto (the home of Japanese haute cuisine) there is a variety of eggplant that is similar to the one in the photo called kaganasu （加賀茄子）- big, round, and quite thin-skinned. Here’s a photo of one.

There’s nothing like the combination of juicy, soft eggplant with that sweet-salty, thick dengaku sauce. Wait, I think I need to go to the market today…

Other favorite eggplant recipes from the archives:

Japanese country style stewed eggplant (nasu no inakani)
Steamed eggplant with spicy peanut sauce
Grilled eggplant and mushroom miso soup (you can make this just with eggplants)
Ratatouille

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

maki — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 14:52:08 +0200

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.

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

maki — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 18:20:07 +0200

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!

Sweet onion and soba salad with fat-free umeboshi dressing

maki — Mon, 25 May 2009 10:48:38 +0200

We still haven’t found a house to buy (though we may getting close), and due to the way things work in France, we are probably going to be nomads for at least 4 more months even if we put in an offer for a place tomorrow. I’ve gotten more used to cooking in tiny holiday home kitchens, but I’m still not up to anything too complicated - or in other words anything that requires the use of more than 2 burners at a time.

Fortunately it’s now summer, which means lighter, less complicated meals anyway. This salad, which can be a meal on its own, a starter or a light side dish, features sweet salad onions (spring is the season for them, at least around these parts), sliced paper-thin and refreshed in ice cold water. The tart dressing features umeboshi (pickled plums) and uses no oil, so this is an almost fat-free, fairly low calorie dish, that’s vegan to boot.

Recipe: Sweet onion and soba salad with umeboshi dressing

For 4 starter sized portions or 2 main dish portions

For the dressing:

7 Tbs. (or 1/2 U.S. cup minus 1 Tbs.) vegan dashi, or the same amount of water with 1/2 tsp. of konbu seaweed based or (for non-vegetarians) bonito-based dashi stock granules
4 Tbs. freshly squeezed lemon juice
About 3-4 umeboshi, or enough to make 1 Tbs. ume paste
2 Tbs. soy sauce

For the salad:

1 200g (about 7oz) pack of soba noodles
1 large or 2 medium sweet onions (see notes)
4-5 green shiso leaves
romaine or cos lettuce leaves

To make the dressing:

Take the pits out of the umeboshi, and chop the pulp up finely. You should have about 1 tablespoon of ume pulp. (If you can find something called ‘ume paste’, which is pureed umeboshi, you can use that to save some time.)

Put all the ingredients into a jar and close the lid tightly. Shake vigorously to combine. Refrigerate until you are ready to use it. (It will keep for about 3 days in the refrigerator.)

To make the salad:

Slice the onion as thinly as you can manage. Put the slices in a bowl of ice water.
Bring a pot of water to the boil, and cook the soba noodles following the detailed instructions here. The rinsing stage is very important here, otherwise the soba noodles will become gummy!
Shred the lettuce leaves - you should have enough for about 1 cup per plate. (Alternatively you can just line the plates with whole leaves, but I prefer to shred it.)
Finely shred the shiso leaves.

To assemble:

Line each plate with the lettuce.
Mount the soba noodles on top.
Drain the onion slices and pat them dry with kitchen towels. Mound on top of the soba noodles. Top with a sprinkling of the shiso leaves.
Pour the dressing over the salad, making sure everyone has an equal amount of the umeboshi bits.
Each diner should then mix the salad thoroughly before eating.

Notes

You can make all the components in advance, and assemble the salad as you’re about to serve it.

While this is a vegan salad, the flavors go very well with grilled meat or sausages. For a lighter version, omit the soba and just make a salad of the onions and lettuce.

To make this a complete one-dish vegan meal, top it with tofu cubes, and optionally increase the soy sauce in the dressing to 3 tablespoons. For a fun and so not vegan variation, top with crispy bacon bits, and/or slices of poached chicken breast.

The onions

Around these parts sweet white onions are sold as ‘oignons doux’. You can see them at the markets in big bunches like these.

In the U.S. look for varieties like Vidalia, Walla Walla and Maui.

By putting them in ice water, you do get rid of much of the ‘oniony-ness’ that makes you somewhat pungent, but you may want to avoid eating this salad just before a job interview or blind date, to be on the safe side.

A followup report on being vegan in Japan

maki — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 20:42:23 +0200

Asha, the reader who sent me the question that inspired me to write Japan: A Survival Guide for Vegans has sent in a great follow-up comment. I’ve posted it here so you won’t miss it. She found it a lot easier to follow her vegan regime in Tokyo than in Nagasaki, where she has been living. That makes sense I thin: any major metropolitan area these days is likely to have many people who are vegan or at least interested in a vegan way of eating, while the same might not hold true for more regional towns (Nagasaki has a long history of being a very international city, but is much smaller than Tokyo of course.)

What follows are Asha’s words.

I recently spent about four days in Tokyo and will admit that was the EASIEST time as a vegan out of the entire six and a half months I’ve been here. There are vegan restaurants EVERYWHERE. I ate with a fork for the first time since leaving America. I drank coffee at a cafe that wasn’t Starbucks. I indulged on things I haven’t had since leaving my home country and thoroughly enjoyed everything. It was incredible.

I am vegan, and though I’ve been pretty much unable to eat out at all here in Nagasaki, I don’t mind cooking my own meals. I spend a little more money than the other students from America but that’s because they are living off of incredibly unhealthy prepackaged foods. I really love experimenting with all the new and exciting vegetables and other things here. I recently found a small store called “vegetarian” [that actually sells meat…hah] and found 玄米もち [genmai mochi - brown rice mochi]！ I was so excited. I can’t wait to try it.

I really like making the Chinese savory version of 粥 kayu [rice porridge] with my own personal twist, usually using some miso, a package of natto.. various veggies.. sometimes tofu.. and of course seaweeds. It’s a great meal for any time of the day. I like to stir fry, make curries out of kabocha squash, cauliflower and red lentils [that my lovely boyo brought me from America- thank goodness for lentils!!!] and pretty much steaming or broiling [i have no oven] any vegetable I can find.

At first I ate the same boring mix of bean sprouts and carrots but thankfully have branched way, way out. Don’t forget to try all the different kinds of mushrooms and greens!! Renkon 蓮根 [lotus root], yamaimo 山芋 [mountain yam], satoimo 里芋 [taro root] and of course satsumaimo 薩摩芋 [sweet potato] are all delicious and usually quite cheap. I could live off kabocha squash- it’s THAT good.

I recently found pure organic soy milk and there’s organic tofu here that is super, super cheap. I like unsweetened ankou [azuki bean paste] on brown rice cakes and soy milk with fruit and brown rice flakes found in the organic section of one of the supermarkets I visit.

I’m rambling now, but I hope you get the gist of this entirely too long comment of me slowly adjusting to what’s available here. I think my visit to Tokyo [and enjoying things like sakura muffins and vegan tempeh sandwiches] will hold me over until August.

Thank you Maki for the awesome sites and post. I love all of your sites- especially Hungry for Words! Keep up the great work [and thanks for the email back about the bread!]

Thank you, Asha, for the very detailed comment! I thin it will be very helpful to other vegans venturing out to Japan.