Vegetarianism and Eggplants

That looks like a lot more cheese than it really was.

When you live in a rural area, seasonal food means food that is in season in your area or in areas not too far from you. Living in a metropolitan area, where you have far greater access to food from all over the world, means that you see food that is in season someplace else on the globe. If I see a ton of cheap avocados, it means they're in season in Mexico or Puerto Rico, not Japan.

I'm not sure where most of the eggplants in Tokyo are coming from, but recent shopping trips would seem to indicate that they're in season somewhere. They're cheaper than usual and plentiful. To be honest, I'm not a serious eggplant fan, though I do enjoy them on occasion and in moderation. The only vegetarian lasagna I ever made (for a friend who didn't eat meat) was made with eggplant and it turned out extremely well.

This particular friend worked several "busy seasons" as a temp. at my former office and was one of the few people aside from myself who brought her own lunch. She likely had little choice because vegetarian options are painfully limited in Japan. Even when you ask and are told there's no meat in something, there is often some sort of meat in it. It seems that the question is often interpreted by the Japanese to mean, "are there big hunks of meat in it". They'll tell you there's no meat in the dish if it's something which has minced meat in small quantities or meat broth. The notion of being a vegetarian is relatively alien in Japan. I do several lessons where I talk about food with students and the idea of giving up meat sounds incredibly odd to them. Invariably, they see the option as being one based in health benefits rather than ecological ones or philosophical beliefs.

A rare site in Tokyo, a vegan restaurant. It's not so rare as it once was, but it's still pretty rare.

Getting back to this former co-worker though, it was often the case that I'd ask this particular friend what she'd brought for lunch and one day she said "aubergine stew". Since my second language was not French (it was Spanish) and Americans rarely say "aubergine", I asked what that was to which my (Australian) boss replied that it was what snooty people called "eggplant." He was just kidding, of course. She wasn't the least bit snooty, and fortunately was a good sport.

All those bags full of eggplants in the shops and some serious boredom with my usual lunchtime options inspired me to pick up a bag of small ones and try to put them to use. The result is something which is pretty simple and I mainly mention it in my blog to inspire others to consider enjoying the same thing, not because it's an uncommon combination.

This recipe has the virtue of being very cheap and fast. I had an hour before a lesson and watched the clock while I made it. The "hard part" takes about 6 minutes with a further 5 minutes or so in the toaster oven.

Open-face Eggplant Sandwich:

• 1 small eggplant
• 1 tbsp. all-purpose flour
• salt, pepper, garlic powder to taste (I used 1/2 tsp. salt, 1/4 tsp. pepper, and 1/2 tsp. garlic powder)
• olive oil as needed for frying
• 1/2 tomato (sliced)
• cheese as desired (Japanese natural "mixed" cheese is fine)
• French bread (or any other type of crusty bread)
  

Slice the eggplant into about 8-10 discs of about 1/2 inch (or a bit less). Place the flour, salt, pepper, and garlic into a small bag (or a shallow bowl) and mix. Place the eggplant slices in the bag and shake to coat. They should be a bit moist and the flour will stick, but if they are dry, you may need to give them a rinse and shake off the excess water to get the flour mixture to adhere to them. Heat a small skillet over medium flame and add about a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Fry the eggplant slices in the oil until they are browned on one side then turn them over and brown the other side. You may need to add more olive oil to the pan when you turn over the eggplant as it will absorb the oil.

While the eggplant is cooking, cut off a 5 inch section of French bread and slice it in half length-wise. Trim the top and bottom if necessary to make them sit flatter on the toaster oven tray. If the bread is tilted, the cheese will run off as it melts. Place the bread slices on the tray and put 4 or 5 cooked slices of eggplant on each piece. Top with slices of tomato. Season the tomato with salt then sprinkle the tops with cheese. It's tidier if you heap the cheese in the center so that it doesn't melt off the edges when you toast it. Toast (or broil) the sandwich until the cheese melts.

Note that it's very important to salt the tomato before adding the cheese or it'll taste rather bland and it doesn't work quite so well if you salt the cheese when the sandwich is done. Also, the topping for this sandwich is very soft so it's extremely important to use some good bread with heft and firmness.

Chocolate Sushi

Despite the fact that Valentine's Day was quite awhile back, my husband received the fun assortment of chocolates above from a student yesterday. He also got a box of truffles from the same student, and while they were lovely and sophisticated, they weren't quite as photogenic as the whimsical item pictured above.

The characters in white in the center of the label say "sushi". The banner with gold letters to the left says "special" and the real "joke" of this item are the black characters on the right which read as "cho-ko" though when written as kanji (Chinese characters), the words don't mean "chocolate" (choco), but (apparently) "sake cup". Somehow, I figure there must be another meaning I'm missing that applies to sushi. Usually, the word chocolate is not written in kanji, but rather in katakana which is the Japanese syllabary for (mostly) foreign words so it's sort of a joke. Ha. Ha. OK, we foreigners don't find the same amusement in Japanese wordplay as the Japanese might, but it's still cute.

Click this picture to see detail.

The contents are mainly blocks of chocolate wrapped in plastic with pictures of various seafood items on them, though the small packet filled with green balls is full of super sweet white chocolate bits coated with shiny green candy. These balls might be meant to resemble fish roe, I imagine, though I'm not sure (particularly since roe is reddish in color). They do look suspiciously like the stuff my father used to bait his hooks with from time to time when he went fishing. However, the packet itself has a picture of gnarled wasabi roots and says "wasabi choco" so perhaps this was the best they could do to emulate small amounts of wasabi. The candy also has an odd aftertaste which may actually be wasabi flavoring. The packaging is very well done right down to having the omnipresent fake plastic "grass" that you see in sushi assortments and a real wood container (that smells quite nice).

The chocolate with a picture of a shell on it has some funny English on it. On the front, around the shell, it says:

"Scallop stands a sail and runs all over the seas."

On the back, it says:

"There was a dog to which the sea is crossed. The ear was pinched with the husks of HOTATE."　

"Hotate" apparently means "sail upright" in one of its incarnations, though it can also mean "pilgrim". Without Chinese characters, it's impossible to know but all the talk of the sea makes the sailing definition likely, yet somehow, renders the sentence it is a part of no more logical.

Pumpkin Bread

Look at all that carotene.

Back when I was working in an office, I used to make goodies for the entire office around Christmas time. Two particular items were a huge hit. One was my peanut butter cookies and the other was this recipe for pumpkin bread. The bread this recipe makes is very sweet, tender on the inside, and has a crispy outer shell when fresh. It's also quite moist. The surprise to me was that, despite how sweet this is, the Japanese adored it.

I hadn't turned to this recipe for quite some time because I'd forgotten about it and because it's a bit decadent with all the sugar. However, I've been noticing that the higher prices of butter in Japan are really starting to increase the cost of my home-made baked goods. While it's still cheaper to make my own than to buy things at bakeries (and for cakes, muffins, and cookies, my stuff is better), it's starting to approach a point where the money saved versus the effort invested make it not necessarily worth it from a financial viewpoint.

The advantage of this recipe over my old standby, banana bread, is that this uses Canola oil as the fat and it's rather significantly cheaper than butter. I make it with a 50/50 sugar/Splenda mixture, but I think you could safely reduce the sugar by a bit and it'd still be pretty good. However, I've never tried reducing the sugar. If you do so, I'd recommend a slow reduction starting with eliminating 1/4 cup and carefully testing the texture.

Pumpkin Bread:

• 1/2 cup Canola oil
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup (American) pureed pumpkin
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 2 C. sugar (or a mix of 1 C. sugar and 1 C. granular Splenda)
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. ginger
• 1/4 tsp. nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp. cloves
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tbsp. baking powder

Whisk the eggs, oil, vanilla and pumpkin puree together in a large bowl until well mixed. Add the spices, salt, and sugar (or sugar and Splenda) and whisk until well mixed. Sift in the flour and baking powder and whisk until just mixed. Do not overbeat the mixture or the bread will be tough from the gluten being overworked. Preheat oven to 355 degrees F./180 degrees C. Back for one hour or until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean.

This freezes extremely well and makes a really nice breakfast if you want something sweet.

Jumbo Mini

"We provide a firstclass taste brought directly from the earth" claims my pastry. It makes me wonder if one of the ingredients might be, oh, dirt.

The characters "ミニ" mean "mini" in English. If you look at the picture of an apple custard ring pastry above, you'll see those characters in a white circle on the label. This particular pastry cost only 149 yen ($1.40) and was sold in the section reserved for individual serving size pastries. I put a ballpoint pen next to it for size comparison. There is really nothing about this pastry that I'd say feels mini-sized. In fact, for someone who eats large portions, there are easily two servings. For me, there are three healthy servings or four smallish ones.

One of the oddest things in Japan is that some of the pastries sold in convenience stores and supermarkets for between 100-200 yen ($1-1.80) are labeled as "mini" and they are freaking huge. I've been here a long time and this is something which remains a mystery to me. Are they "mini" in that they are supposed to serve an entire family and would be considered small for that purpose? Is it ironic labeling? Does the word "mini" carry some other notion in katakana which I've not been made aware of? Or are Japanese portions only small when they aren't about pastries?

When searching for an explanation, I came across "ミニ" as it refers to British-made small cars and all things small. Perhaps the pastries are meant to be consumed in small British cars, or are as large as one of them. If anyone has some insight into why these large sweets are often labeled as "mini", I'd love to hear it.

It Does Some Bodies Good

Low fat milk (left) is cheaper than high fat milk but can resembled powdered milk taste-wise. The milk on the right is "ESL" or "extended shelf life" milk and is supposed to last a long time. Most high fat milk has its fat content prominently displayed on the label, but you have to check nutrition information for the percentages on low fat (the one above is .7%).

As you approach the dairy case at one of our local markets, a little song plays which goes something like "three a day, three a day, ichi-nichi (everyday), san-kai (3 times)". Yes, part of the song is in English and the "three" is pronounced like "sree". This ditty is part of a campaign which extends to other countries which I'm sure is funded by the dairy manufacturers world-wide.

There are some people who are promoting the idea that dairy is very bad for you. Actually, there are a lot of people who say that for various reasons. One of the reasons is that cows are not treated especially well, even those that are milked and not slaughtered. Another is that not everyone responds well to milk products. I think others just want to make sure that any organized producers of anything who encourage you to consume something for health benefits should be taken to task as their motives are surely financial rather than related to the social good.

Without a doubt, there are some people who have issues with dairy products. From multiple sources, I've heard that 90% of Asian people are lactose intolerant, but Japanese people are tremendous fans of yogurt. Most of their cheese is processed and they don't drink milk in the ways that Western folks do as part of a regular diet, but I've rarely encoutered someone who didn't regularly eat or drink yogurt. In fact, yogurt drinks are all over the place in a variety of flavors and configurations.

Since hearing that 90% of Asians are lactose intolerant, I've asked students if they ever feel ill or experience any sort of discomfort after consuming milk products and they all look at me as if I had asked them if they ever spontaneously sprouted wings and flew. The idea that dairy products will make them feel bad just isn't on the radar, so I couldn't fathom what the information I was hearing again and again was based on as no one seemed to be experiencing lactose intolerance. Though I guess a genetic explanation is likely, I'm not sure a gene for lactose intolerance has been discovered and not all Asian people are intolerant.

At any rate, while researching milk, I learned some interesting points about the body and milk consumption which may explain why so many Asians are lactose intolerant yet do not experience discomfort while consuming dairy products. One thing I learned is that, after birth, the enzyme required to digest milk starts to slowly diminish unless you continue to consume milk. Essentially, this means that cultures which embrace milk as a part of their regular diet throughout their lives are far less likely to become lactose intolerant as continual ingestion of milk stops you from becoming so. Considering that Asians often do not drink milk regularly in the same fashion as some Western folks, it makes sense that they would gradually stop producing the enzyme that allows them to digest lactose.

I also learned something which may explain to some extent how my students, who fall within the whopping 90% of lactose intolerant Asian people, are consuming dairy without discomfort and that was that yogurt contains bacterial cultures which help digest lactose so it can be managed better by folks who are lactose intolerant.

One other point about milk in Japan is that it tastes different than milk in the U.S. because it is processed differently. In fact, it took quite awhile for my husband and I to get used to it. It seems thinner and more watery, though milk here tends to come in various high fat percentages (commonly from 1.0-4.4% with non-fat milk being relatively hard to find). I've read that lactose is water soluble and that Japan uses steam injection and infusion methods to process milk. This process heats the milk for a longer time and probably is part of the reason it tastes strange to Americans. I wonder if something in this process destroys or removes some of the lactose in Japanese milk, I must say that this is complete speculation on my part.

Kernel Thunders

The picture that launched many entertaining descriptions.

Back when I was working in a Japanese office and correcting student (correspondence-based) homework as part of my daily duties, there was a lesson in which students were presented with a drawing of an older gentleman and asked to describe him (shown above). It was not the least bit rare for students when describing this man to say variations on several rather entertaining things:

1. "He is the Uncle of Kentucky."
2. "He is a dandy."
3. "He is kernel thunders."
   

As a further clue, I can tell you that it is often noted that "he has been on a diet" and "he has lost weight."

People who have lived in Japan and especially those who have been English teachers, probably have a clue what these statements are about. For those who don't know, the answer is in the picture below.

Click this picture to see a larger, more detailed picture. Note the poster of a Japan-only KFC food monstrosity to the right of the statue. It's a "mince nan sandwich" (a breaded, deep-fried cutlet full of fatty minced meat served on Indian-style bread). Note the proud display on the burger of the 4th Japanese food group, mayonnaise.

In front of most KFCs in Japan, there is a statue of the Colonel so nearly every Japanese person is familiar with his likeness, though they aren't necessarily all that clear on his name if the reports I corrected are any reflection of reality. It's my guess that Colonel Saunders's visage is so well-known that any older-looking foreign man with glasses, a suit, white hair and a mustache may bring him to mind.

Yes, there is vandalism in Japan.

The statues of the Colonel that I've seen are always clean and very well-kept. The one in the previous picture is so clean that it's super shiny. I imagine that these same sorts of statues would be vandalized rather badly if they were in the U.S. and left out in front of shops overnight. Mind you, it's not that there's no vandalism in Japan, but either the Colonel is not a big target for it or he is quickly cleaned up if it occurs (or they block access to him through gates that they pull down after closing).

I'm not sure why the Japanese franchise owners decided to put statues of the Colonel in front of nearly every shop, but, if I had to guess, I'd think it had something to do with the fact that Ronald McDonald statues used to be in front of a lot of McDonald's. It could be that they felt KFC needed a similar, easily recognizable icon associated with its food.

This papier mache "Hello Kitty" stays in front of this tea shop year round. The owners just change her wardrobe to reflect the changing seasons and holidays. In summer, she wears a bikini and it's frankly a little creepy.

It could also be that the Japanese, in general, have a habit of putting out statues of their corporate mascots in front of shops to attract attention or raise brand awareness. There used to be a Fujiya sweets shop near one of our local stations and a statue of the Fujiya girl ("Peko-chan") licking her upper lip in anticipation of a tasty Fujiya-made treat was placed in front of it. I've also seen statues of various lesser-known mascots in front of other miscellaneous establishments such as a cutesy elephant in front of a drug store and, of course, the omnipresent "Hello Kitty" often shows up in an unofficial capacity.

I wouldn't be surprised if the Colonel, in all his overly-stylized glory, is rather rare as a mascot in Japan that is based on a real (or even fake) person. In fact, I had a discussion with a student last week about Betty Crocker and how a fair number of American mascots resemble real people (or are based on real people) whereas almost all Japanese ones are based on cartoons or cartoon-like images. It's a difference that we don't tend to notice because corporate mascots are part of the background noise of marketing to which we're exposed, though we are all quite aware of and familiar with them in our respective cultures.

Not So Much Cake, But Very Much Cheese

Image lifted from the seller's site here.

In a former post, I wrote about the quest for cheesecake in Tokyo and how there are many varieties. At that time, I lamented that most cheesecake wasn't very tangy or strongly cream cheese-flavored. One of my husband's students graciously gave him a cheesecake which showed that you can indeed get cheesecake which is very satisfyingly tangy if you seek out the right kind at the right place though it is different in other ways.



For one thing, the presentation of the cheesecake is quite elegant and sophisticated (as you can see from the picture at the top, not my picture where it's been opened). The "cake" is wrapped in paper to absorb some of the moisture (and it gets moister the second and third day) then wrapped in plastic and put in a little basket. For reference, it's about 5 inches (12.7 cm) in diameter.


When you open it up, there is not so much a cake as a dollop of whipped cheesecake filling. I've heard that this is French-style cheesecake though I'm guessing this particular presentation is very Japanese. It just has a real feel of a Japanese aesthetic to it. It's more of a cream cheese and whipped cream mousse than an actual cheesecake so it lacks the dense, decadent texture Americans are accustomed to but it has all of the delicious bite and flavor you expect. Though it's incredibly light, it's not necessarily low calorie. The web site says that it has 865 calories. The caloric density probably comes from the copious use of full fat cream, though it's not too bad when you consider it should be divided up into 4 or 5 servings.


One thing I really liked about this besides the yummy cream cheese flavor was that the packaging was so unique and attractive that I'm unlikely to forget this gift or the experience of eating it for quite some time. I'm well aware that the Japanese emphasis on wrapping and elaborate packaging is a bad thing for the environment, but I don't know how much was really wasted above and beyond what was absolutely necessary in this case. Given the free-form, super soft "cake", it had to be put in a very supportive container and better that it be a reusable basket made of bamboo than a plastic shell that gets chucked into the bin.

Mystery Food

Note: Updated below the dotted line on, January 12, to add the answer.

Click on this picture to get a good close look at this bit of sustenance.

One of my students is married to a doctor and he often receives gifts from his patients. Sometimes, she passes these gifts on to me because her husband tends to receive far more than can be consumed by her family, and she's a nice person and wants to give me nice things despite suffering some financial hardships as of late.

Most recently, she gave me the bag you see pictured on the right in the photo above. I had no idea what it was and if I had to guess just by looking at it, I'm not sure I would have been able to discern the nature of its contents. The plate on the left is one of the items after being placed in the toaster oven for a few minutes which is something she recommended I do.

I thought I'd give my readers a shot at guessing at what this is by making comments with their guesses. I'll update this post with the answer some time within the next 24 hours. Happy guessing, friends.

(Please note that any comments posted through the night Tokyo time won't be moderated for about 8 hours so there will be a delay in posting them, but they will be posted in the order they are received!)

••••••••••••••••••••••

Those living in Japan who took a guess had a distinct advantage over those who live abroad since they may have encountered this item before. That being said, though I live in Japan (as does my husband), I hadn't seen this delicacy before. My husband guessed it was some sort of dried beef and remarked that "it looks even worse in person" (than in the picture). I thought it was flayed eel.

Yes, this can be turned into what you see at the top of the page.

The picture is of dried sweet potato. Despite how bad it looks, it actually pretty much tastes just like a sweet potato, though the texture is somewhat different.

Sweet Potato Scones

As the New Year's holidays approach, shops start putting food on sale to clear their stock before they close up for a day or two. Usually, shops are closed at least on the January 1 and some for as long as 3 days from the 1st to the 3rd. Sales are also held from January 2nd at some department stores located near or on the way to the most famous or heavily trafficked shrines. Nothing stands in the way of a consumerist opportunity!

In preparation for their closure, one of our local markets was offering some moderate bargains on various foodstuffs, particularly fruit and vegetables that they didn't want rotting away during the holiday. Of paramount attraction to me was a bag of 5 small sweet potatoes on sale for ¥100 (89 cents). I didn't quite know what I was going to do with them, but I'm too big a fan of Japanese sweet potatoes to let an opportunity pass.

While perusing various baking sites, I came across a recipe for sweet potato scones and the idea seemed quite appealing. However, it needed adapting for Japanese sweet potatoes in my opinion. To me, a scone has to have at least a reasonable amount of fat in it to add texture and the recipe I found only had 1 tablespoon of butter. I also felt it was important to account for the difference in moisture of Japanese sweet potatoes as compared to American ones. To be honest, I was almost certain the result was going to be dense and tough the first time around, but they turned out beautifully. I credit what I learned from making traditional Japanese sweet potato cakes with helping me make the right sort of modifications for the scones to turn out so well.

I'm pretty sure that these can be made with American sweet potatoes, but you'll have to keep an eye on the moisture. Japanese potatoes are exceptionally dry and may make a different sort of dough. Using American potatoes may require you to use more flour.

Sweet Potato Scones:

• 3 tbsp. butter (room temperature)
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 4 packets Splenda or heat stable artificial sweetener (optional)
• 1 egg + 1 egg yolk
• *1 cup mashed sweet potatoes (specially prepared-see below)
• 2 cups flour
  
• 2 tsp. baking powder

*To prepare the sweet potatoes, steam them until they are soft. Err on the side of overcooked rather than undercooked. Do not boil them as it will introduce more moisture. Peel them and press them through a fine sieve to mash them. This will remove any lumps or heavily fibrous portions and help make the dough lighter.

Cream the butter and sugar with a hand mixer. Add the salt and Splenda (if desired) and eggs. Beat again until well incorporated. Add the mashed potato and beat again. Sift the flour and baking powder into the potatoes and mix. Knead it a little to make sure the flour is incorporated but make sure not to over-mix it as it will make the scones tough. Pat the dough into a rectangle about 3/4 of an inch thick and cut into triangular shapes. Pre-heat the oven to 220 degrees C./425 degrees F. and bake on an ungreased cookie sheet for 20 minutes (until the edges are golden brown).

Splenda adds more sweetness to the scones without upsetting the balance of the moisture absorption of the sugar. Using Splenda allows you to enjoy the scones without jam, honey, or other sweet spreads and makes it possible to mainly taste the sweet potato without any sort of spread masking the flavor. If you'd like a more traditional-looking flat, crispy-topped scone, you can brush the tops of the dough with an egg wash to keep them from rising. I just didn't want to waste an egg for such a trivial difference in the final result.

Having one of these scones plain with tea or coffee for breakfast really hits the spot. :-)

Lull

Last Friday, I had a rare "day off". While I don't work full-time, I usually spend some time teaching most days and a lot of time doing housework, cooking, and shopping. On many days, I feel as busy as I used to when I was working full-time, sometimes more so. If you do housework well, it's the death of a thousand cuts. There are so many little things to do that the tasks can pile up and take hours, even if you're on top of things on a daily basis.

Last Friday, due to a lot of reschedules, I didn't have any lessons and the house was relatively clean so a potential lazy day stretched before me. The rescheduling had resulted in a Saturday that was packed with private lessons so this was my lull before the storm.

A normal person would probably rest and enjoy that free time, but I'm extremely inept at relaxation. I'm not sure what the problem is but, unless I'm sick, I can't lie around the house and do nothing. I can't even lie around and watch T.V. or play a game for hours. So, rather than relax, I decided to make some homemade bread by hand (as opposed to the bread machine which is my normal method).

My Qurban was a bit on the flat side and my rolling skills are clearly not refined. Rather than nice, round bread, I made some amoeba-shaped ones. The two in front actually appear to be dividing from one another.

Awhile back, I saw a recipe for Qurban on the Desert Candy web site which looked interesting. The main problem was that it required orange flower water (and mahlep) and I don't have access to any. I figured that I'd try it substituting orange essence knowing full well it wasn't going to be anywhere near the same. Mainly, I was hoping for the same texture if nothing else and to enjoy the experience of making bread with my hands.

If you've never made bread before, it can be very therapeutic if you have the free time. It smells great when the yeast is doing its thing. It's somehow very relaxing to knead it (and punching dough is good for getting out some aggression and negative energy). There's also something to be said for reconnecting with how food is created closer to its origins rather than simply consuming it as something sold in bags at stores.


The finished bread was soft and relatively nice but not really like the buns shown on Desert Candy. It didn't have the wonderful orange smell that Mercedes mentioned in her blog. Mine were also flatter than hers and very pale on the bottom. In fact, while hers were nicely brown, mine were white. They tasted fine out of the oven in their normal state, but they really shined when I toasted them. When toasted, the outside takes on a delicate and satisfying crispiness, almost like a paper thing shell, on both sides. I had them with honey for breakfast and sliced one in half, put some ham and cheese in it, and toasted it for a really splendid lunch.

If you have a little lull in your life and have the time, you might want to give these a try. However, I'd recommend not rolling them out to six inches in diameter as they seem a bit too flat that way. I'd go for 4 inches. Of course, it just could be that my yeast wasn't the most robust. I believe that the yeast you buy in Japan in little foil packets isn't as active as some of the varieties you can get back home. Since there appears to be only one brand of yeast carried at most markets, it's not like there's any competition for an improved product and, since bread making isn't a part of Japanese food culture, it's not as if there's a great demand for higher quality yeast.

Food Phases

There are various food-related phases one has when living in a foreign country. Most people don't end up hanging around long enough to get past the first phase and assume there's something wrong with you if you aren't mired in it. This is very much so the case in Japan where the food appears to be one of the biggest draws for tourists.

The first phase is the adventurous one where you're excited to sample local cuisine and see what you like and hate. Inevitably, there are also foods you viscerally reject and aren't even willing to try because of their source. Anything in the slithery, snake-like family is in the last category for me. I can't even look at a snake or snake-like creature without being creeped out. The last thing I want is to see one skewered, grilled and served in pieces on my plate. That means that eel has always been out of the question for me. Mind you, it doesn't help that I used to see a huge clear plastic bag of live, squirming eels in front of a local restaurant on my way to the station everyday when I was working in Shinjuku. The connection between the real deal and what ended up on the plate couldn't help but be firmly crystallized for me after seeing that sack-o-snake day-in and day-out for years.

The adventurous food sampling phase is followed by the regular consumption of the favorites from your new repertoire of food options. This is where you start patronizing all the restaurants which carry the dishes you've concluded that you really like and want more of. For my husband and I, the biggest favorite was yakitori. While the general definition is "grilled chicken" on skewers, the yakitori bars and restaurants carry a wide variety of grilled foods including vegetables, beef, and (ahem) chicken skin and intestines. During the first 8 years or so of our stay in Japan, there were many nights when we'd look forward to starting off the evening with a little lacquered box with rice (or a ball of yaki-onigiri, a grilled rice ball), a handful of chicken or beef skewers, and a few slices of pickled daikon on the side. We'd then add in some grilled shishito (a mildly spicy green pepper), an onion salad with Japanese dressing, and incredibly hot and fresh miso soup along with even more sticks of meat, chicken and green onion. It was an experience to be savored. Unfortunately, savoring it again and again eventually mitigated the excitement of the experience and it wasn't the most economical option for an evening meal.

After awhile, the novelty starts to wear off of your formerly "new" food favorites and what was once interesting and a fresh taste experience turns into the "same old thing" and you find yourself heading into the next phase. You aren't really compelled to prepare the Japanese foods you love yourself because there is no earthly way you're going to do a better job than the restaurants you frequented. In fact, in the case of many dishes, you can't even come close. At this point, you start to be adventurous outside of the indigenous cuisine and, at least in the case of Tokyo, find that there is a whole world of other restaurants like Indian, French, and Spanish which allow you to re-visit your adventurous eating phase though only for a short time as the range of non-native cuisine is far less than the range of native dishes.

Concurrent with all of the phases after the initial one is the slowly increasing wish to find some of your foods from back home. It starts with your delight at encountering one or two items which you hadn't seen in a year or more. As time goes by and the mundane (and expensive) nature of local restaurants settles into your consciousness, you start to think about cooking more for yourself and that, at least in my case, brings me back to western dishes. A lot of people are critical of people who live in Japan and eat like they do back home, but Japanese people living in other countries do the same thing. In fact, when a former student of my husband's visited us in the U.S. for as little as a week, he was pining for miso soup and rice for breakfast within days of his arrival.

It's not simply a matter of being mired in your own country's food culture which draws you to the dishes you grew up with. It's a matter of what you are good at preparing and what is satisfying physically and comforting emotionally. In the case of the visiting former student, I think he felt utterly inundated by the newness of his surroundings and that was more than enough change to digest mentally. The comfort of his usual breakfast and the way it both psychologically and physically prepared him to go out and face a world where he struggled to communicate and navigate was not a rejection of American food, but a concession to one small need to stay bound to his own culture as a means of coping with the stress of the culture shock and his feelings of relative isolation. It would be the height of ego-centrism to view his choices (or anyone else's) in this regard through the lenses of "cultural rejection." Not every choice says something about how the foreign culture is love or not. Sometimes choices only say something about the need of the person making them.

Hanamasa

The spoils of a trip to Hanamasa.

When my husband and I first arrived in Japan, there was pretty much no such thing as bulk food shopping for the average consumer in Tokyo. There are several reasons why this is the case though I'm not sure which is the primary one. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because the small size of domiciles makes it difficult to store large quantities of items is the biggest reason. Another is that married Japanese women used to be housewives for the most part and they had the time and inclination to shop every day. Finally, the Japanese value freshness and feel uncomfortable buying a lot of something and keeping it around for awhile.

While most families still don't shop for items they can purchase in bulk, restaurants do need to get supplies somewhere and that is where Hanamasa supermarket seems to have gotten its start. Back when we first encountered it, part of the advertising indicated that it was focused on (possibly small) restaurant supply. Given the huge quantities you could buy in one package, this made sense.

The origins of Hanamasa are in meat sales (it began with a butcher shop) and that's reflected in the selections they offer. At the picture at the top of this post, you'll see smoked chicken, sliced ham (named "Winning Ham"), and two kinds of sausage. "Meister Rudolf's" is Hanamasa's brand designed to imitate German-made meat products and a lot of the sausage is pretty fatty. When we cook it, we usually drain off as much as possible and blot them on paper towels. For meat, the prices are relatively economical. Five hundred grams (about 1 lb.) of hot sausage is ¥418 ($3.72) and 2.2 lbs. (1 kg.) of "bologna sausage" is ¥1,080 ($9.66). The only down side to the large portions is that it's too much to eat before it spoils so you really need to repackage and freeze portions.

In addition to their own brand-name products, they carry a constant supply of imports including cheese. Pictured above are mozzarella, Gouda (both from Australia), and red cheddar (from New Zealand). The prices recently went up from 100 yen (89 cents) per 100 grams (3.5 oz.) to 130 yen ($1.16) per 100 grams, but it's still cheaper than imported cheese in most markets in Japan. The blocks above are 1 kg. (2.2 lbs.) each and most cheese is sold in these large portions, but it keeps exceptionally well if you re-seal it in the same wrapping that it comes in. Cheese isn't supposed to be kept in plastic wrap and will get moldy faster if it can't breath.

While Hanamasa does carry fresh fruit and vegetables, they aren't a great deal cheaper than other outlets. I've also found that some of the fruit seems a bit past its prime, but I can't say that I've shopped for such items at Hanamasa often enough to say that that is consistently the case.


Finally, imported goodies are available sporadically. If you find something you like at Hanamasa, you have to stock up because there's every chance that they won't be around next time you visit.

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As an aside, the day my husband shopped at Hanamasa, one of his students gave him the South Park tote bag pictured above. Somehow, it seems appropriate that a bag talking about Salisbury Steak day was given to him on the day he went to a place that specializes in meat. It also came in pretty handy for carrying some of the items he bought back home.

Christmas Pack 2

The Japanese on this bag says the same thing as the English, "little Santa" (ri-to-ru sa-n-ta).

Last year, I picked up a "Christmas Pack" at the local 99 yen store to see what sort of goodies are peddled to Japanese children at this time of year. Though I had no intention of "taking the bullet" again in terms of trying another and reporting on its contents, time heals all wounds or at least allows the palate to forget. In the holiday spirit of giving (in this case, information) and self-sacrifice (my taste buds), I picked up another Christmas pack this year.

There was actually an increased variety at my local QQ (99 yen convenience store) this time around. One featured the same spastic Santa design from last year though it appeared to have different contents. Another was in an opaque bag and I couldn't see what sort of things were in it at all. I went for the bag pictured above because I didn't want to buy the one with the scary looking mochi disc since the mochi choco from last year's bag was exceptionally vile. In fact, I'm feeling queasy just remembering it.


This bag also included a relatively inoffensive-looking item, a castella doughnut, right in the front. "Castella" is all over the place in Japan both as slabs of cake and as doughnuts. I've had the cake before because it had been offered as a souvenir at my former office. The cake has a coarse texture and is oddly tacky because it has a slight stickiness. It's quite sweet though not in the same way as western cakes which have an intense processed sugar quality. It's more of a honey sweetness quality. The cake itself has a nice flavor but the texture is not as fine as western sponge cakes. Like many other sweets (konpeito) and bread (pan) in Japan, castella is adapted from original Portuguese recipes (hence the un-Japanese name).

Though I've seen both the cake and doughnuts everywhere, I've never purchased either so this doughnut was my first sampling of a "castella doughnut". Keep in mind that I've never seen what one might consider a high quality castella doughnut. They seem to be sold in large bags for a low price by and large. I've never seen one in a bakery, for instance, so I think they're a low rent food regardless of whether they're in a cheap ass bag of goodies or in a big family-pack at Inageya supermarket.

The donut in this packet didn't seem to resemble castella cake in any fashion. It smelled vaguely of vanilla and oil. In fact, it was pretty much a somewhat dry cake donut with an exceptionally greasy exterior that left a sticky coating on my fingers which didn't easily come off. The strongest taste I got from it was one of old cooking oil and this compelled me to check the expiration date to see if it had been sitting around for a long time. The date was February 26, 2008, so it wasn't as old as the well-aged oil flavor indicated. If I were even moderately curious to try a castella donut before, this pretty much quashed any desire I may have had to eat one.


Choco-Taro..."you will enjoy it's taste". I wasn't sure if that was an order or a promise, but, either way, I wasn't looking forward to finding out. The bar smelled vaguely of something resembling chocolate and was covered in a paper thin coating of mockolate. Though it claims to have peanuts, it seemed only to have microscopic fragments embedded in the (too sweet) coating. If you imagine one of the little puffed rice grains in a Nestlé Crunch expanded to bar size with similarly enlarged air pockets, you pretty much have the center of this thing. It wasn't awful, but it also wasn't appealing. It seems as though the main points in designing this bar were to first, make it crunchy, and second, make it very sweet. There wasn't much flavor in it.


I was pretty sure this ("Fubo-san taro") was the same wheat gluten snack as was in last year's pack with the only difference being the wrapper. A preliminary sniff revealed that it smelled of burnt sugar as last year's did, but it didn't carry the same vague whiff of beef bouillon cubes. The inside had a lighter texture than last year's "fu" snack and biting into it put in mind the notion of chomping into a tenderized Styrofoam packing peanut that had been liberally doused with sugar. This one was more edible than the previous one and I may have considered more than a few tentative bites if it weren't so incredibly sweet that I feared I'd go into diabetic shock. It is absolutely remarkable how sweet it is given that most of the flavor seems to be on the dusting of brown crap on the outside.


This is a salted snack food called "cabbage taro". Apparently, these are favored by frog policemen. That's a bit odd as I figured they'd favor the castella doughnuts (being in reptilian law enforcement and all). These smelled and tasted much like a Japanesse "corn potage" salted snack food I favor (but mainly avoid) in Japan. It's salty, has a bit of a chicken consommé flavor and only the vaguest hint of cabbage. The little specks of green aren't cabbage though. They are bits of nori (dried seaweed). There was so little of it though that it had almost not impact on the taste. These were actually rather tasty and had a nice tangy aftertaste to them. They were very crispy and light and brought to mind (the now defunct) Planter's cheese balls with a different flavor coating. I actually ate the whole (tiny) bag of these. It's the only item I completely consumed its entirety.

This is "morokoshi wa taro" or, essentially, "corn and corm rings". Among the ingredients are corn, taro (a Japanese corm), vegetable oil, and spices. They don't smell like much of anything and taste like an airier, relatively flavorless Chee-to. I'd call these rather inoffensive to mildly pleasant because of the texture.

The last item in the pack ended up being one of the same salted snack foods that I got in the previous year's bag. I couldn't see the front of the pack when I purchased it or I may have gone for the more terrifying spastic Santa bag with the white mochi hockey puck. After all, I do have to suffer if this is to be a true act of gustatory martyrdom. I've pasted my former bit of information as a caption on the photo above in case you don't want to go back and read the old post.

As was the case with last year's bag of "goodies", corn was the first ingredient for everything except the donut which listed flour as the first ingredient. I can see where kids might enjoy a bag of snacks like this, but it's all a bit much on the extremely low-end junk food side for an adult. Fortunately, my consumption was limited to a few tastes per item and then they hit the trash bin. I'm sure my body appreciates the consideration.

Not So Much With the Stars

I've been endeavoring to diversify my home cooking menu and it's been rather difficult for various reasons. One of the major reasons is that my husband is a picky eater and can't tolerate hot and spicy dishes. Both of us enjoy Indian dishes though they have to be on the mild side for him. I read Mallika's excellent Quick Indian Cooking site regularly and have attempted to make the dishes she writes about there on occasion. The main problem I have is that some of the ingredients aren't available in Japan. Even when most of the ingredients are in a shop, I've found spices are pretty low quality. I'm guessing this is because they aren't used in traditional Japanese cuisine and sit around the store for ages.

I have made Mallika's chicken pulao recipe twice before. I had to substitute ground cumin for whole and a dried red chili for the green ones. The first time, it lacked flavor because my spices were so anemic. The second time, I doubled the dried, whole spices and it was better. This time, I'm considering tripling the cinnamon sticks, bay leaves and star anise to try and create some deeper flavor from what I'm sure are well aged spices.

A bottle of star anise, well, not exactly stars.

The only problem with my plans was that I was out of star anise. There's only one market nearby which carries it and I trekked over there and searched the spice rack. The only "star anise" they had was a bottle of smashed up little bits. While I'm sure this will add flavor just fine, it's going to make removing the anise (which is hard and bark-like) from the finished dish before eating rather difficult.

Nonetheless, the chicken pulao recipe is worth the hassle. If you're interested in trying your hand at some Indian cooking, it's a winner. If you live in Japan though, consider going a bit heavy on the whole spices.

Candy Bento

Click this picture to see a larger one with more detail.

One of my husband's students gave him the very cute "bento" pictured above. All of the candy is hard sugar candy fashioned to resemble typical Japanese boxed lunch fare. The "rice" is made up of white "konpeito" which I usually don't see in markets unless it's around the time of the Children's Day holiday or White Day. Most people assume konpeito is candy of Japanese origin but it's actually from Portugal.

The red candy in the middle of the "rice" represents umeboshi (a very sour pickled plum). Umeboshi is one of those things, along with natto (sticky, stinky fermented soybeans), that the Japanese delight in asking foreigners if they like or not. Most of them assume we'll hate them because they are very sour, but I actually like them. It's not the sort of thing you'd snack on but they are a nice accompaniment to certain dishes. When I worked in Nishi-Shinjuku, there was a tonkatsu (breaded, fried pork cutlet) restaurant near our office which kept a little pot full of umeboshi on the table for patrons to partake of while eating their meal. I haven't really had much umeboshi since then, but one of my students brought me an umeboshi hard candy which was popular at her company. While I really like umeboshi, I think it's not the sort of thing that goes well with sugar.

Other items being mimicked in this candy bento appear to include an orange slice, a mushroom, various Japanese pickles, and possibly a carrot. There's even a little fake piece of plastic greenery in it like regular real bento. I'm not sure what the point of these little bits of plastic are, but they look like a little hedge of grass and are used to embellish raw meat sold in trays in finer shops in addition to bento. The tray is made of plastic meant to imitate traditional Japanese lacquer ware.

This is a very cute little souvenir, but it's so precious that it's almost too cute to eat. Fortunately, there's a little silica gel packet in it to preserve it so you can keep it around for awhile if you'd prefer to look at it rather than eat it. Even though I'm not a great fan of sugar-based hard candy (because of the impact on my teeth), I did sample a piece and the colors do appear to relate to the flavors. The piece that looks like a carrot is orange-flavored and quite nice for a bit of hard candy. The main problem is that some of the larger pieces are too big to comfortably hold in your mouth for the duration that it takes to consume it.

Table Manners

A post on "What Japan Thinks" which offered survey results about what sort of chopstick-related faux pas people notice got me thinking about western table manners and about how and why such rules come about. If you read through the list in the "What Japan Thinks" article (and I recommend you do so as it's pretty interesting and information), some of the "violations" seem relatively arbitrary and, in my opinion, inoffensive.

To some extent, I believe what constitutes bad manners at the table is related to considerate and sanitary behavior. For instance, being pointed at with cutlery of any sort isn't a comfortable experience as it brings to carries a hint of someone attempting to gut you with a salad fork or scoop out mushy body parts with a spoon. Allowing your eating implements after they have been in your mouth to touch any communal dishes or spaces transfers your cooties to everyone else.

Some rules, however, seem very strange things to consider poor manners such as "eating one dish continuously." Why should others care if you eat all of one dish before consuming another? In the west where people serve themselves from a large dish placed in the center of the table, this may be considered a problem because someone might be consuming more than his fair share of a select dish. In Japan, where food is generally served to each individual in separate dishes (unless you're at a bar or pub), you're eating your own portion and not taking away from a community platter.

The interesting thing about manners and food-related behavior is that, if you look at the etiquette across cultures, you can find a lot of conflicting ideas. In fact, sometimes you can find that ideas conflict within the same culture. One of these points in the U.S. is about whether or not you leave food on your plate. My family, and this is probably because we were poor and food was not to be wasted, always insisted on cleaning ones plate. In other parts of the U.S., it's perfectly fine to leave food on your plate if you're not hungry enough to eat it all. In fact, some people consider it bad manners to eat everything because it makes you look piggish. In Japan, while I don't believe it's bad manners not to finish what you are served, it makes your host believe you didn't enjoy the food.

One of my students decided to prepare a simple Japanese meal for her host family during a home stay. Before she left, she asked me what she could prepare and I told her that it really depended on the people. Some people are pretty open-minded about various types of food and some have limited palates. I recommended she consider some sort of nabe or Japanese stew. She opted to do a simpler sliced beef dish which was mainly based on seasoning with salt and soy sauce and served with rice. The homestay mother praised the dish, the son openly disliked it and no one cleaned their plates. She assumed that none of them liked it because they didn't eat it all. While it's possible that the family didn't like it, it's also possible they just aren't the sorts to clean their plates. When I explained this to her, I don't think she actually believed me.

Fortunately for foreign folks, the Japanese forgive us all our failings in terms of manners when we are their guests. They don't expect us to know enough not to leave our chopsticks sticking straight out of our rice (which is actually one of the nastiest things you can do as it relates to funeral practices) and tend to be impressed if we are proficient in using chopsticks at all.

Cheesecake

A "stick" cheesecake from a convenience store. It looks better than it tastes though it certainly is a testimonial to controlled portion sizes.

Almost all foreign people living in Japan will eventually become homesick for their favorite indigenous foods. While some people see having a taste for non-Japanese food as wasting the opportunity to become immersed in Japanese food culture and thoroughly exploring it and appreciating it, I believe that it allows you to learn about other aspects of Japanese food culture. That is the side which has embraced foreign food but modified it to suit Japanese tastes.

Unless you have a very regimented view of food culture, Japanese food isn't limited to dishes that originated in Japan. "Curry rice" as it is commonly prepared by schools, housewives, restaurants, and fast food places is just as Japanese as sushi even if the name sounds vaguely Indian. You're not likely to find it prepared in the same fashion in other countries and the way in which curry has been modified to appeal to the average Japanese person is just as much a reflection Japanese preferences as other more traditional foods. In fact, since people already know how such dishes are prepared in their own culture, the differences are more striking as a reflection of differing tastes and desires.

For me, the exploration of western food has included finding good cheesecake since it's my favorite dessert. On the plus side, there is cheesecake of all types all over the place in Japan. It's sufficiently popular that it's carried in almost all convenience stores as well as markets and cake shops. It would be nearly impossible to sample all the variations. On the minus side, cheesecake in Japan is generally sparse on the "cheese" portion with a few exceptions.

Cheesecake is divided into two general types in Japan. One is "baked" (ベイクト・チーズケーキ) and the other is "rare" (レア・チーズケーキ) though cakes of one type or the other aren't always prepared in the same way. Among "rare "cheesecakes in particular, there is a lot of variation. Some of them are a little like New York-style cheesecake though most are like a pale imitation because of a less concentrated amount of cream and cream cheese. Others are like French-style cheesecake and are light and mixed with gelatin. Others seem incredibly "eggy" for a "rare". The "stick" of cheesecake pictured at the top of this post was a rare one and fit into that category. The crust was soggy and had little cream cheese flavor.

The "baked" cakes are generally pretty rubbery or spongy (again, probably because of not enough cream cheese to make it creamy) and covered with a slick film of some sort of sweet glaze. Since I'm not a big fan of baked cheesecakes, I haven't tried that many but Cozy Corner makes a pretty decent one which has a better texture than most.


The "rare" kind is the variety I favor and I'm constantly disappointed with the lack of tangy flavor in them which I associate with cheesecake. I believe this is due to the fact that cream cheese is rather expensive in Japan. In most markets, the average 200 gram (7 oz.) box is about 370 yen. If you compare this to the price of monster-size Costco boxes imported from New Zealand which are 738 yen for 1 kg. (2.2 lbs.), you can see where avoiding using too much cream cheese in your cakes would be a great cost saver.

Of course, it could also be that cheesecake has been modified to suit Japanese preferences for less dense cakes and that the sort that is commonly sold in the U.S. is too heavy for them. It's possible that the variations in cheesecake which tend to result in my being generally displeased with most of them stems from my limited tastes rather than any short-comings on the part of preparers in Japan, though obviously you have to consider the source. The cheesecake that you get at 7-11 isn't going to measure up to what you get at a confectioner.

Pork Roast

With the weather changing, my cooking inclinations also change. Instead of trying to cook light meals that take the shortest time and won't heat up the house, thoughts turn to warming foods like soup and baking seems like a far more attractive proposition than it did even two weeks ago. This change of feeling is what lead to my (first ever) pork roast yesterday.

My husband and I actually don't eat that much pork. We mainly have it as a way to break the monotony of consuming (greatly cheaper) chicken so frequently. When I headed off to the market, I knew I was going to buy what I needed for potato and onion soup but I wasn't sure what to make with it. I figured I'd let the selections in the meat racks "inspire" me with whatever was unique to us and relatively reasonably priced.

I found a largish hunk of pork for about 100 yen per 100 grams and decided to give it a try. As points of comparison, chicken breast is generally 39 yen per 100 grams, thighs about 59 yen per 100 grams and pork chops are about 89 yen per 100 grams. So, while this was a little expensive, it wasn't outrageous.

When I got home, I decided to mix several methods and recipes I'd searched on the Internet to prepare it. Here is what I ended up doing:

Pork Roast recipe:

2.4 lbs (1096 grams) pork roast (loin cut, I believe)
2 tbsp. olive oil
3 crushed cloves fresh garlic
1/2 tsp. dried sage
1/2 tsp. dried rosemary
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. coarsely ground black pepper
~1/2 pound thinly-sliced bacon (4-6 strips)

cotton twine for tying
plastic wrap

Preparing the work surface:

Stretch a sheet of plastic wrap large enough to wrap your roast on the table. Cut 6 lengths of cotton twine to size for tying your roast then place 3 lengths horizontally and 3 lengths vertically across the plastic in a criss-cross fashion. The strings need to intersect close enough to tie up your roast. Place strips of bacon horizontally over the 3 horizontal lengths of twine.

Preparing the roast:

Put the olive oil, garlic, sage, rosemary, salt and pepper into a small bowl and whisk together to mix well. Rub this mixture evenly over all sides of your roast.

Place the roast on top of the pre-prepared work surface. The bacon should cover all (or almost all) of the bottom of the roast and wrap somewhat up the sides when you tie everything in place. Place three strips of bacon vertically on the top and wrap them around the sides. Depending on the size of your roast, you may need more or less bacon. When the bacon is in place, tie the roast up (not too tightly, just tight enough to hold the bacon securely). Wrap the plastic wrap around the prepared roast and put it in the refrigerator for 2-6 hours.

Place a rack on a tray. Remove the plastic wrap from the roast and position it on the rack. I also put foil under the rack to make cleaning up easier but it's not necessary. The bacon fat will drip off into the tray and it will be very oily when the roast is finished.

Cook at 160 degrees C. or 325 degrees F. for 25-30 minutes per pound.

My roast was 2.4 pounds and cooked for an hour and a half. I also flipped it over at the 45 minute point when I noticed the bacon on the top was browning and crisping up faster than that on the bottom but this may not be necessary in a larger oven. You will want to cook a bit longer if you want a more well-done roast. My level of cooking was medium and safe but a lot of people are more comfortable cooking pork longer.

My husband was very, very pleased with the roast because it was exceptionally tender. For me, the center was a bit too juicy so I will eat only from the ends (which were still tender but drier) while he will stick to the rarer center.


Earlier, I had already cooked up about 6 servings of soup which we reheated and ate with the pork. Since the soup is a bit of a production, I wanted to get it out of the way before it grew too late in the evening. This soup doesn't suffer at all from being cooled and reheated and pairs very well with this roast.

Japanese Sweet Potato Cakes

Muffin-shaped Japanese sweet potato cake. Yummy!

The Japanese sweet potato (サツマイモ), which I've extolled the tasty virtues of before, is relatively cheap and easy to purchase year-round though it is cheaper in the fall. The main problem with them is that they are hard to cook and handle in a fashion which leaves you with a tasty result. This is likely more so the case if you're a foreigner and don't know how to prepare them though, if my students are any indication, most Japanese women don't know much about cooking these days either.

For this reason, I tend to get my sweet potatoes pre-prepared from more skillful hands but I can't help but recognize how much cheaper it'd be for me to make dishes with them myself. To that end, I decided to try and make Japanese sweet potato cakes. I've bought these from markets and had them as souvenir gifts from co-workers before and enjoyed them. However, there's a real quality difference based on the source of such pre-made "sweets" and I'm guessing I never had a top of the line cake.

The main problem with cooking Japanese sweet potatoes is that they are extremely dry inside. I've read that the peel is also quite bitter. If you bake them or microwave them, they become almost unpalatably dry. If you boil them, they tend to disintegrate too easily. I did some research on the internet and found a recipe from a Japanese woman (Setsuko Yoshizuka) on about.com which contained what I believe is an authentic recipe. I decided that I'd follow it to the letter as best I could and hope for the good results.

Japanese sweet potato steamed and peeled.

The first thing that she says you should do is steam two small potatoes before peeling them. This is something I've seen on Japanese cooking shows before but western people usually don't handle potatoes in this fashion. In the west, we tend to peel and boil, or, at best, peel and steam, but I've heard that it's better to steam all types of potatoes because they won't absorb water and diminish the flavor of the resulting product. I found that the skin easily peels off when you steam the whole tuber so you don't waste the flesh as you do when you peel a raw potato. The only down side is that it takes a long time to steam a whole potato to a tender state.

Peeled and sliced potatoes ready for mashing.

The peeled potatoes look a bit dirty and nasty because the purple flesh stains the outside and they're rather hard to mash because they are so dry.


At first, I tried to mash them just with a fork but it resulted in a lot of what appeared to be little pebbly globs so I added the butter in the original recipe to moisten it up a bit then started bashing it with a large whisk. While this was better, adding milk helped a bit. In the end, I decided to triple the milk from 1 tbsp. to 3 tbsp. because it was not very smooth. I think that this was because my sweet potatoes were not as small as they might have been (though, honestly, based on my experience buying these potatoes, they were quite small). In the end, it was still very stiff for mashed potatoes.


The original recipe called for the cakes to be formed and placed in aluminum oval-shaped tins. You can get these disposable tins in most markets but I didn't have any on hand and I figured they're mainly for aesthetic purposes and for super easy removal. I buttered up 4 muffin tins and pressed the potato into them though not too firmly as I didn't want the cakes to be too dense. I ran a fork over the top for some sort of vague pattern and brushed it with egg and water as instructed. One tip I can offer is that you don't need to reserve any egg yolk for brushing as the recipe says. If you put the yolk in a small bowl and beat it a bit then pour it into the potatoes, there will be enough of a residue in the dish to mix with about 4 or so drops of water to use as a "glaze". In the picture above, the potato cake puffed up a bit above the lip of the muffin tin but the finished cakes sink back down after they have cooled. My main concern was about whether or not they'd un-mold cleanly from the tins but they were fine. However, I did butter them liberally so that was to be expected.

The original recipe recommended baking the cakes for 10-15 minutes at 190 degrees C. (375 degrees F.) but I felt that that wouldn't be long enough given the shape of my cakes. I believe the shorter time would work fine with the longer, shallower oval-shaped cakes but wouldn't allow heat to penetrate to the center of my muffin-shaped ones so I gave them 25 minutes. I mainly decided to monitor how brown the top got and to pull them out if they started to look dark.

The interior of the cake.

The top of the cake looked exactly like it was supposed to and the texture (moist but just a bit light) was precisely the same as the pre-prepared cakes I have had before. The only difference was that it was much, much better because it was fresh and did not have added chemicals in it for long-term preservation. No one could be more surprised than I that this was a complete success the first time out. I guess it was a tribute to the simplicity of the original recipe. It perhaps was hard to mess up.

The main problem with these cakes is that making them way I did by hand the entire way was very labor-intensive. I'm going to make them again but next time I'll use my mixer for the mashing. The main recipe is also very basic (2 potatoes, 2 tbsp. butter, 1 tbsp. milk, 2.5 tbsp. sugar, 1 egg yolk) and I think that adding just a little brandy (1-2 tsp.) might sharpen up the sweet potato flavor and add a certain richness to them. The only modification I made this first time out was that I used brown sugar instead of white sugar since I believe it pairs better with sweet potato.

Those who think of a sweet which is called a "cake" as being like, well, cake, may be disappointed in this. The texture is more like the filling of a sweet potato pie. That's not to say it isn't very nice. Like many Japanese sweets, the sweetness is light and there's more nutrition to them than the average western sweet. They make for a wonderful, filling treat with tea. If you have friends over who aren't fans of heavy sweets or who are watching calories and want to surprise them with a treat, this would be a super dessert. They also make a fiber-rich, carbohydrate-dense breakfast treat.