Pickling plums

Japanese ume plums being salted down in the process of making umeboshi.  The only other ingredient after salt is akajiso (red shiso leaves) which go into the brining tub later.

Bresaola drying

After nearly three weeks drying the bresaola has lost about 12% of its weight. A nice growth of beneficial white mould has come up on the casing.  The conditions in the drying chamber are 15°C and 80 – 85% humidity.  I’ve also cured and stuck a Magret duck breast in the chamber this week to dry; duck prosciutto is always welcome, whatever time of year.

Traditional Japanese seasonal food: bamboo shoot

or, takenoko.  The edible shoots of the big bamboo species generally come up in Spring.  There are many ways to eat them: lightly simmered in dashi stock, deep-fried as tenpura or stir-fried with other seasonal vegetables.  However, my family favourite has always been the homely takenoko gohan, or bamboo shoots cooked with rice.  No matter how you cook the shoots, they need to be prepared the same way before they are edible.

First the shoot is topped and peeled, and then simmered in water to which has been added some okara (soy bean residue) and a touch of chile pepper.  The shoot is simmered gently till a wooden skewer passes through its thickest part nice and easily.  It is then removed from the stew-pot, rinsed, further peeled and left to cool at room temperature.

The shoot can then be chopped and is ready for cooking.

In this case, the bamboo shoot pieces are mixed with sliced abura-age (thin layered deep-fried tofu) and then mixed with washed rice and dashi, and cooked as regular rice – pressing a button, in the lazy case of using a domestic rice cooker.  The rice is ready in about 45 minutes, and the dish completed by placing one small branch of kinome (sansho pepper tree) on each diner’s bowl of hot steaming rice.

Best of British

What got me started in charcuterie: the quest for “proper” bacon in Japan.  For me, it would be pork belly that is cured but not smoked, usually with something sweet added to the cure to offset the saltiness.  I’ve made this bacon with white sugar, Demerara sugar, Okinawan brown sugar and different types of honey but so far the best results have come from using Japanese kibisatoh from Hokkaido.  Some Englishmen may argue that bacon should be made with loin, to make the kind of back bacon common to the greasy-spoon English breakfast; the same recipe works just as well with that cut too, with a slightly longer curing time.  Anyone can make this bacon at home without any specialist equipment or fuss, and it is a far, far cry from the horrid watery abominations on offer in Japanese supermarkets.

Simple is best

Very easy, very tasty salad.  We have a four-day holiday from today here in Japan (the infamous Golden Week) so hopefully I can get out on the water instead of just stuffing myself.

King of pot-roast cooking

The French dish cassoulet.

English Bangers

Breakfast sausages in the making.  Here in Japan your local supermarket will only really have American- or German-style sausages, almost always pre-cooked and rather watery (as well as the abomination of Japanese bacon).  Whilst there is nothing really wrong with these local interpretations (although I cannot imagine what a Bavarian or Cousin Jonathan might have to say about them) I do like to have a proper English sausage every so often – Cumberland (cooked and served coiled into a fake, rather than being linked) or just good old pork and breadcrumbs.  Colman’s mustard on the side, of course, and served with mashed potatoes and onion gravy.  So I have to make the sausages myself; it is neither difficult nor expensive.

If yesterday was bad…

Overnight the wind veered into the south-east and has really strengthened, presumably bringing more of the stuff overland; I took this photo at 14:01 this afternoon, the same view from my balcony as the previous post.  An Oriental pea-souper, for sure.

Tokyo Smog

Unusual pollution over Tokyo today; this is the view from my balcony this afternoon.

Fabada Asturiana

One of the kings of charcuterie, or perhaps of winter one-pot dishes: fabada asturiana.  Mine contains homemade morcilla (Spanish black pudding) and home-cured salt pork – but I cannot pretend to have made the chorizo, which I paid a sinful price for to a Japanese importer.  Some of the more flightier recipes call for saffron, spices and other delicate ingredients but I found the chorizo, rich fat salt pork and blood sausage added more than enough flavour to the dish and anyway I reserve my stock of Spanish saffron, jealously, like some kind of culinary John Elwes, for such deserving dishes as paella and Muglai biryani.

It is a hearty peasant dish and needs nothing else other than some lightly toasted bread and of course, a rich Spanish red wine to wash it all down.