1 uméboshi (pickled plum), flesh pulled from pit, torn into 2 or 3 pieces
1 (3- or 5-gram) packet katsuo-bushi (fish flakes), drizzled with a few drops of regular soy sauce, then tossed to moisten (this mixture is called okaka, seasoned fish flakes)
1 (7-by 8-inch) sheet nori (laver)
Salt the rice. When making onigiri more than 30 minutes in advance of eating, salting and cooling the rice is critically important to maintain proper hygiene (salt retards spoilage). Transfer freshly cooked rice from the bowl of your appliance or stove-top pot to a large wide bowl. The classic Japanese vessel is a flat-bottomed, wooden tub called a handai that is briefly wet down with water to keep the rice from sticking to it. If you do not have a handai, a heat-resistant shallow glass bowl is fine (and preferable to a metal one, because glass does not retain heat). A large wooden salad bowl that has not been previously seasoned with garlic or oil is also an option.
Using light cutting and folding motions (pretend you are working with whipped egg whites, folding them into a cake batter), spread the rice out in your bowl. Sprinkle with half the salt and toss the rice with light cutting and folding motions to distribute. Cool the rice to the point that large clouds of steam are no longer visible. The Japanese use a broad, flat fan called an uchiwa to aid in this process; stiff cardboard (from a pad of paper) also works well. Sprinkle the rice with the remaining salt and toss to distribute evenly.
Divide the rice into four ½-cup or six ⅓-cup portions. Have a bowl of room temperature water nearby, to dip your hands and/or spatula in as needed to keep the rice from sticking to them.
Wet both hands with water, shaking off excess. Scoop up a portion of rice and lightly compact it into a sphere (this action is called nigiru and is the origin of the name of this dish). Transfer the rice to your nondominant hand and, with the fingertips of your dominant hand, press the center to make an indentation.
Place either 1 of the pieces of uméboshi or a half (if stuffing 2 onigiri) or a third (if stuffing 3 onigiri) of the okaka mixture in the indented space. As you do this, cup the palm of your hand to enclose the filling, making a sphere. Repeat to stuff all portions, setting aside stuffed rice bundles on a clean work surface (covering a cutting board with plastic wrap first will keep them from sticking and simplify cleanup).
Take a stuffed rice sphere in your moistened, nondominant hand. Bend your dampened fingers of the other hand to form a V-shaped “roof” over the top of the rice ball. Exert gentle pressure with this top hand to mold the rice—this “roof” becomes one of the triangle’s pointed tips—and flatten out the bottom. Flex your wrist, turning your fingers up. As you do this, the rice ball will flip so that the edge that previously was formed against your top hand now rests on the flat palm of your bottom hand. Exert gentle pressure again to form the second pointed tip on top. Repeat the roll, press, and flip motion to complete the making of the triangle.
Repeat to make the remaining onigiri. As you work, group the rice bundles by filling to make it easier to identify later. Many home cooks will create their own system of identification according to the shape of the rice (triangle, log, or ball) or design of the nori band (kimono-like crossed-in-front strips or short bands placed under the base and pressed to front and back of triangular onigiri; bracelet-like bands, some broad and others narrow, for log-shaped onigiri; smiling faces or basketball designs “drawn” with strips of nori on balls). Have fun inventing your own. If you are making 6 small-sized onigiri, filling half with uméboshi and half with okaka, I suggest you cut your sheet of nori in half lengthwise, then across twice to yield 6 short strips, each about 1½ by 4 inches. If you are making 4 larger onigiri, it’s best to cut a single sheet of nori into 4 strips, lengthwise.
Finished onigiri can be served on a platter. If you are making them ahead of time, cover the platter with clear plastic wrap and store at cool room temperature. Refrigerating the rice bundles makes them unpleasantly tough. If you are packing onigiri into a picnic box, wrap each in clear plastic—the modern method—or in dried bamboo leaves called takénokawa, the old-fashioned method (see photo). Nori can be wrapped around the rice bundles immediately after shaping them (sticks easily to warm rice) or just before eating, which gives the onigiri a more distinct seashore aroma and slightly crispier texture.
THE LANGUAGE OF FOOD
tonjiki
Tonjiki, written with calligraphy for “gather” and “food,” are thought to be the prototype for modern-day onigiri. Several references to tonjiki appear in the eleventh-century novel Tale of Genji by Lady Murasaki Shikubu. In her tale of court romance and intrigue, tonjiki are described as “compact, egg-shaped spheres of cooked rice.” It seems they were prepared in the banquet kitchens not to be served to guests, but rather to feed the household help. The rice was mixed with millet and other less costly grains.
onigiri • nigiru
omusubi • musubu
The Japanese language today has two words for pressed rice bundles: onigiri and omusubi. Both words begin with an honorific “o,” showing that rice, no matter what you call it, is a food to be honored. Each of the words, onigiri and omusubi, derive from verbs that describe the compressing action needed to shape cooked rice into easy-to-carry bundles. Nigiru means “to press together.” Musubu means “to tie together, to bind.”
Salmon Rice Topped with Red Caviar
Salmon Rice Topped with Red Caviar
HARAKO MESHI
Archaeological evidence dating back at least 5,000 years shows that the early inhabitants of the Tohoku—the Jomon people—fished for salmon. The ancient coastline is dotted with inlets that today bear the names of well-known fishing ports: Oofunato, Rikuzentakada, and Minami Sanriku, all of which were devastated by the tsunami. Before the Disaster, Minami Sanriku had become a major center for farmed coho salmon—bringing about 15,000 tons of fish a year to Japan’s domestic market. Late in September of 2011, on a very small scale, the autumn harvest commenced.
Salmon has always played an important role in Tohoku cuisine, and harako meshi (literally “salmon child rice”) is a “signature dish” of the region. Often featured at family gatherings, every household seems to have its own rendition. When presented as casual fare, the salmon is likely to be flaked and tossed into the rice as it steams for a final few moments. When divvied up, individual bowls are topped with a modest spoonful of salmon caviar. On special occasions, though, many home cooks will present the dish on a large platter, garnished with slices of cooked salmon and clusters of caviar.
Using a combination of ordinary table rice (uruchi mai) and sticky rice (mochi-gomé) will produce a moist rice dish with a slightly chewy texture. Dishes made by combining rice varieties are known as okowa.
SERVES 2 AS A MAIN COURSE, OR 4 TO 6 AS A SIDE DISH
1 cup Japanese-style rice (uruchi mai), or ¾ cup Japanese-style rice and ¼ cup mochi-gomé (sticky rice)
About 1½ cups water
3 to 4 ounces fresh salmon, filleted with skin attached, scales removed
3 tablespoons saké
1 tablespoon usukuchi shōyu (light-colored soy sauce)
2 tablespoons regular soy sauce
½ cup water
2 to 3 ounces sushi-grade red salmon caviar (ikura)
Wash the uruchi mai rice well with fresh cold water until the water runs clear. If you are using a combination of types of rice, wash the mochi-gomé rice separately; it will require only one quick rinse to remove surface starch. After draining the washed rice, set it in your stove-top cooking pot or the bowl of a rice cooker. Add just enough fresh cold water to barely cover and set aside while you prepare the salmon. Regular (uruchi mai) rice will become opaque and appear slightly plumped as it absorbs water; grains of mochi-gomé are white and round from the start, so you will not see a significant change in appearance. After 30 minutes, drain off any soaking water and discard.
Slice the salmon sogi-giri style into a dozen or more thin, broad slices.
Mix the saké and light-colored soy sauce
in a small bowl; add the sliced salmon, tossing to coat. Allow the salmon to marinate for at least 10 minutes, and up to 1 hour, refrigerated.
In a small saucepan, combine the regular soy sauce and water and bring to a boil. Adjust the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and add the salmon with its marinade. Jiggle the saucepan to keep the slices from sticking to each other. Within 20 or 30 seconds, the surface of the slices should lighten in color, becoming opaque (the Japanese call this technique shimo-furi, or “frosting”).
Remove from the heat and strain, reserving the sliced salmon and soy broth separately. The broth will be used to cook the rice; the blanched salmon will be tossed into the cooked rice before serving the dish.
Put the drained, water-swollen rice either in a straight-sided 2- or 3-quart pot (one that has a tight fitting lid) or in the bowl of a rice cooker. Measure the broth you strained from blanching the salmon. Add cold water if needed to make 1¼ cups liquid and pour over the rice. Cook the rice using either the stove-top method or using an automated rice cooker.
Once the rice has finished cooking (by stove-top method that means the final high-heat stage has been completed and self-steaming begins; using a rice cooker that means the appliance’s cycle has switched from “cook” to “done” or “keep warm”), remove the lid and lay the slices of cooked salmon on top. Quickly cover your pot or rice cooker. Allow the rice to stand for at least 5 minutes, and up to 20 minutes.
When you are ready to serve, remove some of the prettier salmon slices (2 or 3 per person) and set aside. With a shamoji rice paddle or other broad spatula, trace the edges of your pot to release the rice. With gentle folding motions, scoop down to the bottom where there is typically a darker crust, called okogé. Lightly toss to distribute, flaking the remaining pieces of salmon as you do.
Serve on a large platter or divvy up into individual bowls and serve immediately, warm. Top individual portions with the reserved salmon slices. Just before bringing it to the table, place a dollop of salmon caviar on top of each individual portion. Alternatively, if you will be serving the dish buffet-style, let it cool to room temperature before covering loosely with clear plastic wrap. Keep in a cool spot for up to several hours. Garnish with random clusters of red salmon caviar just before serving.
Fried Tōfu and Mountain Vegetable Pilaf
Fried Tōfu and Mountain Vegetable Pilaf
MICHINOKU KOKESHI BENTŌ
Train stations throughout Japan sell boxed lunches, called ekiben, featuring local fare. Getting to sample these regional ekiben is one of the pleasures of domestic travel in Japan. Some ekiben come in special themed bentō boxes; kokeshi ningyō-shaped ones are one example. Stylized kokeshi dolls have been associated with the region, especially the Nambu district that includes Morioka and Hanamaki Cities in Iwate Prefecture, for hundreds of years. They were, and still are, one of the most popular souvenirs with visitors to the region’s famous hot spring resorts. Traditional dolls handcrafted by kijishi (woodcarving artisans skilled in lathe work) have become collector’s items. Each artist develops a distinctive “signature,” a pattern of concentric rings and decorative brushstrokes.
Packed into this kokeshi obentō box is a rice dish cooked by a multistage method known as taki komi. Fried tōfu and mountain vegetables are first cooked to create a flavorful broth. Then the broth is used in lieu of water to cook the rice. The ingredients that contributed to flavoring the broth are reintroduced in the final stage of cooking the rice. Taki komi dishes typically feature regional and seasonal ingredients: spring in the Tohoku means an abundance of mountain vegetables, such as fern, bracken, and tender young bamboo shoots.
The season for freshly foraged mountain vegetables is short and quirky. A few days after the national weather channel announces the Tohoku’s first thaw (typically early March), I am on the lookout for these treasures in my local Tokyo market. Most of what is harvested up north is parboiled and vacuum-sealed in packages of lightly seasoned brine. Look for them in your local Asian market; many are sold outside Japan.
SERVES 3 TO 4
1½ cup Japanese-style white rice (uruchi mai)
2 small dried shiitaké mushroom caps, stems broken off and set aside (to make Sankai Dashi) and caps softened in 1½ cups room temperature water for at least 10 minutes to several hours
3 to 4 ounces packaged parboiled spring mountain vegetables, such as zenmai, warabi, and bamboo shoots or assorted sansai (mountain vegetables)
2 slices fried tōfu sheets (abura agé)
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons saké
½ small carrot, scraped or peeled and cut in short julienne strips
1½ tablespoons usukuchi shōyu (light-colored soy sauce)
2 tablespoons mirin
Water
2 to 3 tablespoons green peas, fresh or frozen
Wash the rice well with fresh cold water until the water runs clear. Drain the washed rice and put it in your stove-top cooking pot or the bowl of a rice cooker. Add just enough fresh cold water to barely cover the rice and set it aside. As the rice kernels absorb water, they will become opaque and appear slightly plumped. Meanwhile, prepare the fried tōfu and vegetables.
Remove the softened shiitaké mushrooms from the soaking water, straining and reserving the liquid. Rinse the mushroom caps under cold water to remove any grit that might cling underneath. Slice the caps into thin slivers.
Bring a small pot of water to a rolling boil and add the peas. If using fresh shelled peas cook them for one minute after the water returns to a boil. If using frozen peas, add them to the pot frozen and wait until the water returns to a boil. Scoop the peas out with a slotted spoon and set aside, allowing them to cool naturally. Do not refresh in cold water.
Bring the water in the pot back to a full rolling boil and add the fried tōfu slices to remove excess oil. Use long cooking chopsticks or a long-handled spoon to keep the tōfu slices submerged (they tend to bob to the surface) until the water returns to a boil. Drain, and when cool enough to handle, squeeze out excess moisture and blot up excess oil. Place the slices on a cutting board and slice lengthwise and then across into thin slivers. Squeeze out excess moisture (your hands may become greasy but can be washed).
Drain the packing liquid from zenmai, bamboo shoots, warabi, or packages of mixed sansai vegetables. Slice the bamboo in half lengthwise to reveal the inner comb-like pattern. Remove any hard chalky material with a toothpick; rinse away any softer, cheesy material that may be lodged between the layers.
These deposits are naturally occurring calcification and not harmful to consume, though gritty and unpleasant to eat. Slice the bamboo into julienne strips and/or thin comb-like pieces. Cut the zenmai and warabi into short (about ¼-inch) pieces.
Heat your skillet over high heat and sear the fried tōfu slivers undisturbed for 40 to 45 seconds; they will brown slightly. Add the shiitaké mushroom slivers and the mountain vegetables to the skillet. Stirring and tossing, continue to cook for another 30 seconds. Sprinkle with the salt, stir-and-toss, and add the saké to deglaze the pan. Add the reserved shiitaké mushroom liquid and cook for 2 minutes, skimming away any clouds of froth that may appear. Add the carrot slivers to the skillet and season with the usukuchi shōyu and mirin. Remove from the heat and set aside for 5 minutes; during this time flavors will meld and the carrots will soften slightly.
Strain the broth, reserving it and the fried tōfu and vegetable slivers separately. Measure the strained liquid. If you have less than 1¼ cups, add cold water to make up the difference. If you have too much, return the liquid to the stove and simmer to reduce and intensify the broth. Pour the flavored broth over the swollen rice in your pot or rice cooker. (Because the kernels of rice have been soaking up some water post-washing, and because you will be cooking with a flavored liquid, the proportions of liquid to rice are slightly different from cooking plain rice with water.) Cook the rice using either the stove-top method or using a rice cooker.
If you are cooking the rice usi
ng the stove-top method, add the fried tōfu and vegetables after the final high heat stage of cooking has been completed and self-steaming begins. If you are using a rice cooker, add the fried tōfu and vegetables as the appliance’s cycle switches from “cook” to “done” or “keep warm.” Quickly cover your pot or rice cooker. Allow the rice to stand for at least 5 minutes, and up to 20 minutes.
When you are ready to serve, gently trace the edges of your pot to release the rice with a wooden rice paddle or spatula. With gentle folding motions, scoop down to the bottom where there is typically a darker (delicious) crust called okogé. The fried tōfu and vegetable rice is wonderful served immediately, warm, or packed into obentō to be enjoyed at room temperature. It will keep well in a cool spot for up to several hours.
CREATIVE KOKESHI
In recent years, the kokeshi theme has broadened beyond the traditional slender and cylindrical kijishi-crafted dolls. These newer kokeshi are deemed “creative” and include many contemporary items of daily living, such as the modern (slightly kitschy and rather portly) lunch box and kokeshi sembei (doll-shaped rice crackers) pictured here.
KINKON-ZUKÉ
I gaze at the mosaic of bright root vegetables wrapped tightly in dark kelp, surrounded by burnished bronze gourd and wonder. Like the carefully raked gravel in Zen temple gardens that leave no telltale footprints, how did this near-perfect bull’s eye get constructed? Fushigi … puzzling.
The beguiling tidbit, called kinkon-zuké (which can be used as a garnish in the Fried Tōfu and Mountain Vegetable Pilaf, see photo), is a heady pickle redolent of the miso and moromi (both fermented soy foods) in which it marinated for months. Part of Iwate’s centuries-old preserved-food culture, the origin of the name kinkon (the suffix zuké means “pickled”) is nearly as intriguing as the pickle itself. One account likens the appearance of the gourd—thick, cylindrical, and slightly lumpy—to a local Sanriku marine delicacy, kinko (Cucumaria japonica is the binomial scientific name; its English name, sea slug, is most unfortunate). Another explanation for the name suggests the time and attention devoted to making these wonderful pickles is cause for celebration: kinkon shiki, means “golden (fiftieth) wedding anniversary.”
Kibo ( Brimming With Hope ): Recipes and Stories From Japan's Tohoku Page 2
