Kamaboko (蒲鉾) and Other Surimi Products

Kamaboko (蒲鉾) is a Japanese ingredient made from white fish that have been pureed, mixed with flavorings, and then steamed to form a steamed fish cake.

Traditionally, kamaboko was formed on a wooden board for steaming which produces the hallmark half-moon shape you see it in.


Nowadays you can find kamaboko without the wood, but most varieties will still be steamed on wood.

Imitation crab sticks work great for cheap sushi

Does this sound totally weird? I wish I could have described it more appetizingly. However, the pureed white fish, called surimi, is the same process that is used to make imitation crab (called kanikama, which is short for kani-kamaboko). So if you've enjoyed a california roll, you've had surimi. The biggest difference between imitation crab and kamaboko is just the texture as kamaboko is chewier and firmer.

The New Year: Toshikoshi Soba (年越しそば)

I seriously cannot believe it's New Year's Eve. Can I please go back to being a kid again?

Maybe I'm not cut out for the world of food blogging, alongside the multitude of smiling happy women writing their upbeat prose; prose that makes you want to whip out an apron and spatula just to capture some of that bliss, some of that contentment with life that seems to emanate from their words.

I can't do it.


On a good day, I'm endearingly neurotic, making godzilla-worthy messes out of my kitchen, introspective and analytical to a fault. On other days, I'm fickle, wrathful, and dangerously unstable, capable of destroying people in a single spiteful sentence.

I am human, I am imperfect, I am flawed.

Right now, I'm Alice, falling down the rabbit hole. When did the years start to fly by so fast?

There's so much left undone.

I guess, given my mood, that it's ironic that some translate "Toshikoshi" as meaning "killing off the year."

Toshikoshi soba is traditionally eaten on New Year's Eve in Japanese culture as a way of ending the old year and beginning the new year. The long noodles are a prayer for longevity, and traditionally soba is used because it is easier to bite through cleanly than udon, representing a clean cut leaving behind the bad of the last year and going fresh into the new year.

Happy New Year! Ozoni Recipe!

Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone had a good 2012 and will have an even better 2013!

My family drove up to my great uncle's house to eat ozoni, mochi soup that is traditionally eaten as the first meal of the new year in Japanese culture. Oshogatsu, as the New Years celebration is called, is the most important holiday of the year in Japanese culture. Instead of just celebrating from the 31st to the 1st, Oshogatsu celebrations can extend from December the 28nd to January 6th!

My mom got me this kagami mochi for my place!

Mochi plays an important part, not only for eating, but also as decoration. Kagami mochi (鏡餅), or mirror mochi, has a place in the household as a good luck charm and a symbol of the coming and going years. The two giant mochi disks are topped traditionally with a daidai tangerine, but as a kid I loved the ones with the zodiac animal on top. Of course, while displaying mochi is fun and all, it is much more auspicious to eat it in ozoni.

2013 is the year of the snake

Ozoni (お雑煮), or zoni, has been a New Years tradition since around 1400-1500 A.D. It was originally a samurai battle food, using dried mochi cakes and dry goods that they could carry around with them and then prepare on the field of battle by adding water and whatever fresh greens they could rustle up, then making a stew. Somehow, it became a food of the common man, and later a traditional and lucky meal for Oshogatsu.

As a kid, I didn't particularly like ozoni. I remember watching the mochi get put in the broth and thinking what a waste of perfectly good mochi! I preferred my mochi to be sweet rather than savory, and I didn't like all the vegetables interfering with my carbohydrate overload.

New hashi for the new year!

Now that I'm older, I really love ozoni. The bitter mizuna greens, complex earthy dashi, silky-soft tofu, and sweet mochi, with all their different textures and tastes, are ingredients that are disparate in nature, but come together as just simple and comforting. My great uncle jokes it's great hangover food after a rough New Year's Eve celebration.

Ozoni, like oden, is a dish that varies wildly from household to household. Some boil the mochi in the broth, while others toast them before adding them to the soup. In the Tokyo region, they use a dashi based broth, whereas in the Kansai region they use a white miso broth. Coastal regions favor more seafood, while mountainous regions traditionally used more taro.

These dishes steeped in tradition, that incorporate your family and upbringing, are my favorite type of food.

Kaki Kohaku Namasu (柿 紅白なます)

Kohaku Namasu (紅白なます) is a traditional celebration food in Japanese culture, most prominent around the New Years festivities. Usually it is made with julienned carrots and daikon radish that is soaked in a rice vinegar mixture. Red and white (kohaku) are considered lucky colors together, and even though this dish is actually orange and white, it's close enough.

And while New Year's is still a couple months away, I can't help but get wrapped up in the excitement before Thanksgiving. This is both a party dish and a quintessential fall dish, thanks to the persimmon, so I could see it at our table this Thanksgiving.

I decided to make this version because I still have quite the haul of fuyu kaki leftover despite my bundt cake. The persimmon takes place of the carrot, and substitutes well since both have a nice sweetness that plays off the bitter daikon and salty vinegar dressing. Some recipes include citrus juice, to play up the acidity.

Some people like to serve kohaku namasu immediately, other suggest letting it settle in the fridge for several hours or overnight to let the daikon and vinegar mellow.

Took forever, still huge pieces!

Every recipe also varies on the ratio of white to orange, so feel free to have more or less than I suggest based on your fancy. I kept eating the fresh persimmon and the freshly salted daikon before they ever made it into the vinegar mix!

When making this, I realized I am terrible at cutting things. Julienning the daikon and persimmon took forever, and I wasted a lot of the persimmon just because I didn't know how to properly make a squat round shape into matchsticks. Even then, the julienne pieces ended up being like 1/4" big. Oh well, maybe it's time to invest in a mandoline.