Tag Archives: Slow Food

Serious charcuterie

…from Sardigna!  Thank you very much regular blog visitor Mr. VS (the kindness of various readers of my blog is amazing…thank you all).  About half the fermented sausage was already consumed by the time I remembered to take a photo….

 

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The haze glass!

I won it for coming 9th in a haze fishing competition.  It was made by special order by legendary Tokyo tackle store Sansui.  The glass soon saw action as I warmed up my frying oil for the starter…

Some of the survivors ended up in a gratin; others were grilled and then sun-dried: these will be used to make the stock for celebratory o-zoni soup on New Year’s Day morning.  It is so dry here in the Japanese winter these fish are completely dried out left outside overnight.  Then they go in a ziplock bag and into the freezer until the 1st Jan.

 

Trafalgar Day taraba

(slightly old photo but…)

trafalgar day tarabagani

Goby time

Turned out nice again!

Some gobies were caught, killed and eaten.

Tenpura always crisps up nicer if you drain a bit of the oil on kitchen paper or if you are like me and not overly nice about things, old newspaper.  I try not to apply the batter too thick.  This evening we had a last-minute guest, and she  exclaimed at how good haze tenpura is (I suspect she has never eaten real Japanese mahaze before) and how the fish fillets rolled up in the hot oil.   This is a sign of quality not poor frying technique: it means the fish has never been frozen or overly-chilled.  Of course in this case the poor buggers were whizzing about in a bucket until about three hours previously.

Tropical squalls in the offing

but we don’t care, with a cooler full of wahoo, as the hoist says! On returning to Hagåtña, the incredibly relaxed captain prepared the best sashimi you could ever eat south of the tropic line:

Sent down with some local Guam beer and amazingly, Kikkoman shoyu and genuine wasabi, it was not bad!  There were no stingrays or teenaged girls in miniscule bikinis this time.

I could get used to this kind of fishing, in a private sea (not a single other sport fishing vessel, or indeed any ship of any kind, in sight) and Chamorro hospitality!

Many thanks again to Captain Ray, Louis and Jamie, of the Island Girl, sailing from Hagåtña Boat Basin.  I can’t wait to go back again!

An old man’s a bed full of bones

What’s to do with a kilogram or so of eel innards?  Stew them, in a mix of soy sauce, mirin, maple syrup and sansho, of course.

There’s

store-bought sushi, conveyor-belt sushi, and then sushi made by a man whose family have been doing it in the same restaurant for five generations, this time with fish you have caught that day and until about three hours previously had been swimming in the deep blue sea.  I consider it an angler’s duty to cook any fish I kill but just ever so occasionally, it is a pleasure to ask a friend who happens to be a pro to deal with my catch (and I do make sure he takes a good cut of the bag as well for his own use).  I wasn’t disappointed this time, although after the second dish (well-peppered cutlassfish seared on a nuclear-hot pan with butter) I was a bit elevated in my spirits and forgot to take any photos of the cutlassfish arai (scorched then chilled in iced saltwater then sliced paper-thin), or the cutlassfish tenpura, or the fillets seasoned with nothing other than salt and lightly grilled (it needs nothing more) but hopefully these two photos convey a part of the deliciousness (and skill, devotion and dare I say affection, of the chef involved).  Thank you so much Mr. N.!