Discovering Japan: Creamy Edamame Soup with Shichimi-Togarashi

Tokyo is a weird and wonderful place. On the surface, it shouldn't work as well as it does.  Millions of people crowded into a very tiny space.  Incomprehensive street addresses (every taxi driver struggles to find your destination, GPS working overtime, map scrutinized at every light).  A subway system that spiders all over the city in a confusing web of intersecting lines.  No English signs in sight, and barely more "English spoke here" places.  What pulls it all together is the Japanese themselves.  Unfailingly courteous and interested, the Japanese make strangers feel welcome and cared for.  Even if you're not 'xactly sure what you're eating. 

Barbecued eel for lunch, in a restaurant that served nothing but

There are so many things to love about Tokyo, but what I love most is the reverence with which food is held. The Japanese worship at the altar of seasonality, each piece of fruit, each specialty food item sacred. Food is not merely sustenance; it’s something to be savoured, appreciated, each meal a leisurely exploration of every taste.

Wasabi grating in action at Seamon

Nowhere is this reverence more apparent than in the hundreds of tiny food shops that dot the city. Many have been in business for decades, honing their expertise in either crafting or choosing the very best. Many sell just one thing – a certain type of pickled plum, say, or Japanese omelettes (come early – the shop closes when the omelettes are gone).  On a recent trip to Tokyo, and with Food Sake Tokyo* as our bible, we set out on the trail to find culinary treats to take home. Musk melons at $250.00 were out of the question (and, yes, that’s not an incorrect decimal point!), as was fresh wasabi, seen grated a la minute at sushi counters throughout the city.

About $250USD for two - and perfect in every way

Fresh wasabi - slightly more reasonable at about $16USD

Spices seemed like a good bet, and how could we not visit Yagenbori, in business since 1625, and the proud originators and purveyors of Shichimi-Togarashi? This wonderfully complex seven spice blend gives dishes deeply subtle nuances of flavour.  It's a medium-spicy blend of seven ingredients: black sesame seeds; the dried peel of the unshu mikan (Satsuma orange); Japanese sansho pepper; dried capsicum; roasted dry capsicum; hemp seeds and poppy seeds.

The delicious mixture for Shichimi-Togarashi

While your spices are being packaged you can choose a traditional wooden shaker

I knew exactly what I wanted to try it on when I got home – my attempt to recreate a cold and creamy edamame soup I had in Tokyo that was so so good. The soup turned out to be incredibly easy, and with fresh edamame still available at the farmers’ market (and frozen a grocery store away), edamame soup is as easy as one-two-three.

Creamy Edamame Soup
serves 4-6

Edamame beans, fresh or frozen, enough to yield two cups shelled
1 shallot, sliced
2 c chicken soup stock
½ tbsp vegetable oil
1½ c fresh buttermilk or skim milk
1 tbsp fresh butter
Salt and pepper to taste
Shichimi-togarashi for garnish (optional - you can order it here)

1. Boil edamame beans. Shell edamame and also remove the fine skin on the beans. While this may seems like an additional step, it will yield an ultra smooth soup.

2. Heat oil in a saucepan and sauté shallots. Add chicken soup stock and edamame, bring to a boil, and simmer for 30 minutes on low heat.

3. Puree the edamame beans, and put back into the saucepan. Add the buttermilk and butter. Simmer for 5 minutes on low heat. Add butter, salt, and pepper to season.

Fresh edamame beans - beautiful variations of colour

The buttermilk yield from homemade butter

Final step to soup...

This rich, delicious and nutritious soup is fabulous served either warm or cold. Serve it in small cups as a starter, or in shot glasses for a wonderfully different appetiser.

A taste of Japan

*If you visit Tokyo, you need a personal guide to help you navigate. The newly published Food Sake Tokyo is all you will need. A carefully edited and lovingly assembled collection of all things food, chef and former depachica sommelier Yukari Sakamoto turns even the shortest trip to Tokyo into a culinary adventure. Check out her blog for up to the minute tips and tastes.

Can-O-Rama: Italian Tomato Sauce

While September may signal back to school for most, for me it’s indelibly linked with something else – the smell of tomato sauce. September meant bushels of tomatoes in the backyard, the back porch spread with even more to further ripen in the sun; huge pots bubbling on the stoves in the kitchen and the basement; jar after gleaming jar filling the tiny kitchen table; and most of all, my parents, working as a tag team, up early and well into the night, conversation sparse, focused on the task at hand.

After trying plum jam with success, it seemed time to honour my parents’ memory by making my own tomato sauce.  And, like my parents, it was a team effort, me and Rich both chopping, stirring, and tasting the afternoon away.  For such a simple thing, there are seemingly a million ways to make the sauce, all sanctioned by legions of Italian nonnas.  I'm looking forward to perfecting our very own tried and tested technique in the years to come.

Italian Tomato Sauce
makes approx 6 litres

This excellent sauce will form the essential basis to any great tomato or meat sauce. It’s deliberately salt and seasoning free, the better to leave a blank canvas upon which you can create your own sauce masterpieces.

Tomato Sauce Ingredients:
1 bushel San Marzano or Roma tomatoes

Citric acid, ½ tsp for each 1 litre jar
1 large bunch fresh basil (optional)

We searched high and low for San Marzano tomatoes - the ultimate plum tomato

Equipment:
Before plunging into sauce making, prep your equipment. You may want to have a jar or two extra on hand in case your tomatoes yield more.  This website provides a great "Canning 101" and will give you lots more information if you're interested.

Here’s what you’ll need:

• 8 1 litre Mason jars
• 8 jar lids and screw bands
• Tongs
• Canning funnel
• A stockpot to cook the sauce. I used a 14 litre capacity pot, and had to make the tomatoes in two batches. Depending on your budget and ambition, you can scale up or down.
• A canner to seal the jars

Tongs, jars and a canning funnel: canning essentials

1. Prep your equipment. Clean and sterilise your jars by washing them in warm soapy water and rinsing thoroughly; putting the through a quick wash cycle in the dishwasher is even easier and ensures sterilization. Set aside on a clean tea towel.

2. Wash and sort tomatoes. Trim, core and cut into quarters.

3. Put two cups of tomato quarters into an oversized stockpot. Bring to a boil. Using a potato masher, crush the tomatoes to release the juices.

4. Add more tomato quarters, two cups at a time, bringing to boil and crushing as before. Continue adding tomatoes until your pot reaches capacity. You may need to cook the tomatoes in two batches. At this point, cook an additional ten minutes until the tomatoes are completely soft. Cool slightly.

5. Pass the tomatoes through a food mill to separate the seeds and the skin from the puree. Put the tomato puree back into the stockpot (be sure to rinse the pot of any stray seeds or skin). Bring to a boil, reduce heat slightly, and continue to cook at a rolling boil until the puree is reduced by a third (about one to one and half hours). For a thicker sauce, continue boiling until reduced by half.

6. While the puree is cooking, finish prepping your canning equipment. Wash the lids and the bands. Keep the lids hot in a small pot of simmering water. Fill your canner with water, add the clean Mason jars, and put on the stove over medium high heat to begin heating the water. The water will eventually need to be brought to a boil.

7. When the sauce is ready, you’re ready to can! Using the tongs, carefully lift a jar out of the canner, emptying the water back into the canner. Set the hot jar on a tea towel and place a sprig of basil in the jar. (Note: my mother always slipped a sprig of basil in each jar, but that strong oils will definitely change the flavour profile of your sauce.  For pure tomato goodness, eliminate the basil).

8. Place the funnel on top of the jar and put a ladleful of hot sauce into the jar. Add ½ tsp citric acid and continue filling the jar, stopping ½ inch from the top.

9. Run a small spatula or skewer around the inside of the jar to release any air bubbles. Wipe the top of the jar to remove any bits of sauce.

10. Carefully remove a hot lid from the pot and place firmly on the jar. Screw a band on until just fingertip tight. Place the jar back in the canner ran proceed with remaining jars.

11. Once the jars are all done, bring the water in the canner to a boil, ensuring the water is at least one inch above the tops of the jars. When the water boils, cover the canner and process the jars for 40 minutes.

12. Take the jars out carefully with tongs and place on a tea towel. Let rest for 24 hours and test to ensure the seal is firm.

Buon appetito!

Summer Cornucopia: Heirloom Tomato and Grilled Corn Salad with Marjoram

The dog days of summer are here, and as hot sultry August becomes September, the hot days are redeemed by the abundance of the season.  Although shrink-wrapped corn is available year round, it's only now that I want to buy the crunchy, milky ears.  And while it's dead simple to boil an ear or two and douse them with butter and salt, these beauties deserve a gourmet treatment.

Paired with über ripe heirloom tomatoes, dabs of lemony scented sheep's milk cheese and fresh marjoram, this salad is super easy and addictive.

Tomato and Grilled Corn Salad with Marjoram
serves four

4 large leaves butter lettuce
3 ears of corn, silk and husks removed
1 dozen heirloom cherry tomatoes
2-3 medium heirloom tomatoes; choose red, orange, yellow
¼ c olive oil
½ tbsp sherry vinegar
½ tsp fine sea salt, more to taste
Coarse black pepper to taste
⅛ c chopped fresh marjoram, plus a sprig or two for garnish
½ c soft sheep or goat milk cheese (I used Blossom from Monforte Dairy; if you can find a soft cheese with lemon zest, try it - it will give your salad a subtle zing)

1.  Line a platter with the lettuce leaves and set aside.

2.  Grill the ears of corn until they are lightly charred.  Cool, cut the kernels off and place in a medium bowl.

3.  Add the cherry tomatoes, cutting the larger ones in two, and add to the corn.  Add half the olive oil, sherry vinegar, salt and pepper and toss lightly to combine.  Spread the mixture over the platter.

4.  Slice the larger heirloom tomatoes and place them on top of the tomato-corn mixture.  Dab the cheese on top, drizzle the remaining olive oil over the platter, and sprinkle a bit more salt on top of the sliced tomatoes.  Garnish with marjoram sprigs and serve.

Summer never tasted so good

Plum Crazy: Rich and Delicious Plum Jam

My mother was the queen of preserving. It followed along with her inbred philosophy of using everything and wasting nothing, born from a childhood of barely modest means and hard work. We rarely bought canned anything: tomato sauce came from a Mason jar in the basement, pickles were at the ready, plum jam a year-round staple.

That plum jam seems to play in my memory the most. Rich, gooey and delicious, we used it for everything from thick buttered pieces of Italian bread to stuffing for dessert gnocchi. After a recent attempt at making pierogis, I was inspired to finally try my own version of plum jam, taking advantage of in-season Italian plums. The results were exactly right: as sticky sweet and satisfying as I remember.

Italian Plum Jam
yields 5-6 cups

Without a recipe to follow, I did a quick search online and found that most plum jams are nothing more than plums, sugar and pectin. While I had the jars, the plums and the sugar, I hadn't thought about buying pectin, so this version doesn't use any. This recipe from Taste Hungary provided the inspiration.

Approx 4 lb Italian plums*
8 oz sugar (by weight)
Juice of one lemon
1 cup water (optional)

* For the amount of effort it takes to make the jam, the next time around I'll be using lots more plums and adjusting the sugar accordingly. Stay tuned for details!

Equipment you'll need:

Large heavy non-reactive stockpot
Canning pot or oversized stockpot
Mason jars (4 oz or 8 oz size)
New lids and screwtops
Canning tongs
Canning funnel

Tools of the trade

1. Wash, half and pit the plums. Place in a large, heavy non-reactive stockpot (my Le Creuset was perfect), add the sugar, water if using and the lemon juice. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly to avoid sticking.

2. While the plums are cooking, prepare the Mason jars. Wash the jars and lids in warm soapy water and rinse thoroughly. In a large canning pot (or regular oversized stockpot), place the clean jars, submerge in water and bring to a simmering boil until ready to use.

3. The jam is ready when the plums are completely soft and the liquid has become very thick and syrupy. It took about 3 hours for my 4 lb of plums; probably less time would be required if I hadn't added the water.

Almost ready!

4. To test if the jam is ready to can, place a small saucer in the freezer. When the jam seems to be the right consistency, place a spoonful on the plate and put back in the freezer for one minute. Run your finger through the jam on the plate: if the jam runs together, it's not ready; if the funnel you've created with your finger remains separate, the jam is ready to can.

Yum...

5. To can, first prepare the jars. Using the tongs, carefully lift and empty each jar of water, pouring the water back in the stockpot (keep the water simmering, replenishing if needed to ensure that the jars will be completely covered by one inch when placed back in the pot). Place on a clean tea towel.

6. When all of the jars are ready, you're ready to can! Place the funnel in a jar and carefully ladle the hot jam in, being careful to leave a ½" at the top. Wipe any excess jam off the top of the jar, place a lid on the jar, and put a metal band (threaded lid) on, turning so that the band is on securely but not too snugly.

7. Using the tongs, carefully place the filled jars back in the water, and bring to a boil. Be sure that the water is a generous 1 inch above the jars. Boil gently for 10 minutes, remove the jars with the tongs and place on the tea towel. Let the jam cool for 12 hours before storing. Your jam jars will "pop" as they are cooling: this is a good thing! It means the jar is properly sealed. Once the jars are cooled, you can test the seals in the following ways (source: pickyourown.org - see link below):

"Option 1: Press the middle of the lid with a finger or thumb. If the lid springs up when you release your finger, the lid is unsealed.

Option 2: Tap the lid with the bottom of a teaspoon. A clear ringing sound means a good seal. If it makes a dull sound, the lid is not sealed. If food is in contact with the underside of the lid, it will also cause a dull sound (that is not a problem or a sign of spoilage). If the jar is sealed correctly, it will make a ringing, high-pitched sound.

Option 3: Hold the jar at eye level and look across the lid. The lid should be concave (curved down slightly in the center). If center of the lid is either flat or bulging, it may not be sealed."

For more great tips and a detailed FAQ on home canning, see the Pick Your Own web site.

Happy canning!

Daring Cooks Challenge: Summertime Pierogi

I often wonder about where the love of cooking comes from. Certainly it’s as much about nurture as it is a learned art. Take my friend Vera, for instance. Dinner at her house is never a production, but relaxed and easy. Everything is always delicious and there’s always lots of food, a nod to her Ukrainian heritage and her generous hospitality. We go over hungry and never leave disappointed. Not surprisingly, her mother was also a wonderful cook. And although not every person who’s lucky enough to grow up with an artist in the kitchen translates that ability themselves, with Vera it’s bred in the bone.

Although it was long ago, I can taste her mother’s cooking still – always something ready to serve and abundantly. It’s probably the first time I tasted pierogis – that Eastern European version of the ravioli I was more accustomed to eating. And they were amazing. So I was really excited to read about this month’s Daring Cooks’ Challenge: Pierogis.  The August 2010 Daring Cooks’ Challenge was hosted by LizG of Bits n’ Bites and Anula of Anula’s Kitchen. They chose to challenge Daring Cooks to make pierogi from scratch and an optional challenge to provide one filling that best represents their locale.

Not only was making the pierogis going to be an adventure, but I was also looking forward to creating a stuffing that was uniquely local. I knew I wanted potatoes to be a key ingredient, and Vicki’s Veggies had beautiful new agria potatoes, plus there were shallots that were just the right size.  A bit of kale from Everdale Farm would add healthy colour, Pingue Niagara smoked pancetta would soften the kale’s bitter edge, and I would finish the mixture with Blossom, a creamy sheep’s milk cheese with flecks of lemon zest from Monforte Dairy.

Agria potatoes - top left corner, just below the sign

Everdale's kale is pretty enough to put in a vase and enjoy before eating

Can you see the flecks of lemon zest?

With the ingredients fresh from the market, the pierogi-making adventure began.

Russian style pierogi
makes 4 generous servings, around 30 dumplings

This traditional Polish recipe is Anula's family recipe. The filling is my own.

For dough:
2 to 2½ c all-purpose flour
1 large egg
1 tsp salt
About ½ c lukewarm water, more if needed

For filling:
1 lb fleshy potatoes
1 medium bunch kale, washed, tough stems trimmed, chopped roughly
1tbsp olive oil
1 small shallot, minced
1-2 oz smoked pancetta (or a good quality prosciutto), finely diced
1/3 c creamy goat or sheep’s milk cheese
Salt to taste*

*You’ll want to add salt as a last step, since the cheese and pancetta will add saltiness to the filling.

Make the dough:
1. Place 2 cups flour in a large bowl or on a work surface and make a well in the center. Break the egg into it, add the salt and the water. Bring the dough together, kneading well and adding more flour or water as necessary. Cover the dough with a bowl or towel. Let it rest 20 minutes.*

*My mother always let her pasta dough rest for at least an hour before rolling it out and with that in mind, I wrapped the dough in plastic, and let it rest in the fridge for a couple of hours.

Meanwhile, make the filling:
1. Peel the potatoes, quarter them, and boil until soft enough to mash. Don’t salt the water! (see note above)

2. While the potatoes are boiling, prepare the kale. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat, and add the shallot and pancetta, stirring for a minute. Add the kale and continue to cook until the kale is wilted and cooked, but not completely wilted. Take off the heat and let cool.

3. Mash the potatoes until they are smooth and creamy. Transfer the potatoes to a bowl and add the cheese, mashing to incorporate thoroughly.

4. Chop the kale mixture as finely as possible. Add the kale to the potato mixture and stir to combine. Test for salt and add more if needed.

Make the pierogis:
1. On a floured work surface, roll the dough out thinly (⅛”) cut with a 4-inch round or glass. Spoon a heaping teaspoon of the filling into the middle of each circle. Fold dough in half and pinch edges together. Gather scraps, re-roll and fill. Repeat with remaining dough.

This is going to be a case of delayed gratification. I wanted to share this first attempt with Vera, and with travel, cottages, kids and life, getting together will likely be a bit of schedule shuffle. The pierogis wait, frozen and ready to pop into boiling water at a moment’s notice. Vera, when are you coming over?