Tomato Miso Soup (丸ごとトマトの味噌汁)

I bring you a break from my Japan adventures to make sure you have a chance to make this soup while tomatoes are in season!

Before we get to the recipe, I wanted to share a funny tidbit about food blogging in general that I really think applies to this recipe. I'm no bullshit. I really don't have the time or energy to pretend life is perfect. I've written about how disastrous I am in the kitchen, and just last week shared how I can't even eat spaghetti or salad without ruining a blouse.


As I've said before, this is isn't one of the more ambitious food blogs, but I'd like to think it's one of the real ones.

I wear an apron not for the fetishized Stepford wife effect, but because I'm really just fucking messy.

So when I set about making this recipe, I was able to make it with my mother's huge bumper crop of heirloom tomatoes. The problem with most heirloom varieties is they are very photo-ready. They tend to crack, have splotchy color, and seem to never be a uniform shape. Not exactly blog-worthy visually, but definitely delicious! But food blogging is about pretty photos. Really, no one cares about what I write up here; we eat with our eyes first. There's a reason Pinterest is popular: we are visual creatures. You can't take my word for it that the ugliest tomato ever is actually delicious. It's gotta look the part.

Some of the wonderful crazy colors!

Therefore I was faced with a choice: make the recipe with grocery store Stepford wife tomatoes, or not-so-pretty heirloom tomatoes? I could even make it with the perfect umblemished grocery store ones for just the photos, then eat the ones from the garden. But that just seemed to venture too far away from my style.

Instead I hosted a casting call of all the ripe heirloom tomatoes from my mother's garden and chose the prettiest ones for my photos! Is it perfectly round? Nope, but it tasted perfect. You'll just have to take my word on it.

Adventures in Japan: Fukuoka!

After taking a long plane flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo, we took a teeny plane from Narita, Tokyo to Fukuoka, Kyushu where most of my relatives call home.

Fukuoka is the capital of Fukuoka prefecture, and it's one of the biggest cities in Japan. What I liked the best about Fukuoka is even though it's the 6th most populous city in Japan, it has a lot of open spaces, greenery, and little shrines even in the heart of it.

We were led through Fukuoka at a blazing pace by my relatives. Coming from Orange County, which has virtually no public transportation, we were amazed when we took a plane, private car, taxi, ferry boat, bus, train, and subway all within a 24 hour period. Not only was I jet-lagged, I was overwhelmed.

Fukuoka had two of my favorite shrines. I fell in love because they weren't tourist attractions, like I would experience later in Tokyo and Kyoto, crowded with people of all walks of life.

Kansansoubekkan (観山荘別館)

Our most memorable meal of Fukuoka (and perhaps the enitre trip) was at Kansansoubekkan (観山荘別館), a kaiseki restaurant.

Let us be clear: I am not a kaiseki person and neither is my mother. I'm a fan of donburi, ramen, and mochi. I am solidly a B-class gourmand. My mother is the type of person that got bored in France because every meal took so long.

So kaiseki was a leap for us. For those uninitiated in what kaiseki is: Kaiseki is a multi-course meal that really takes food to an art form.

Only seasonal ingredients, cooked fresh, are used, prepared and plated in a way to highlight not only the taste but the visual appeal of the dish.

We were served 12 different dishes over several hours in a gargantuan private room with just us in it and a view of their beautiful garden. It was a crazy ride, and something I am so glad I was able to experience!

We were sat in a traditional style room, without chairs, but there were several larger parties that elected to sit in a more western banquet style. We took a tour of the garden and took pictures in it, which I don't think most people were allowed to do, because we certainly messed up the pretty gravel designs by walking on it.

Yuzu Kosho Bloody Mary

I love a good Blood Mary. The often spicy tomato juice, the inventive garnishes, the endless variations, the fact it's socially acceptable to drink one any time of the day: there's nothing about it I don't love.

The Bloody Mary in recent years is enjoying a lot of popularity due to the gastropub's love of garnishing it with insanity. These are cocktails meant for Instagram: garnished with burgers, pizza slices, pickles, peppers, cheese, onion rings, french fries, even a whole fried chicken at one establishment. Check out this one from Wisconsin that may be the craziest I've ever seen.

So with a storied history of people fucking around with it, I thought the Bloody Mary could stand if I decided to create my own Bloody Mary with a hapa twist!

Considering that Worcestershire sauce, lemon, and salt are three main ingredients of a classic Bloody Mary, the taste profile isn't too different but still distinctly Japanese American. In my version, the tonkatsu adds a subtle sweetness and twang, the yuzu kosho brings the citrus heat, and of course I had to have some insane garnishes.

In keeping with the hapa theme, I garnished this one with Japanese tsukemono pickles, a SPAM musubi, a chicken katsu musubi, a crab Rangoon, and a celery stick to keep everything healthy.

Shochu

Shochu is a distilled liquor made in Japan, originating from the Kyushu area. Shochu remains popular in that area, in fact the area is unique in that shochu is more popular than sake unlike the rest of Japan.

Sometimes you may hear it called "Japanese vodka" which is a really simplistic way of getting us to understand what it is, however there are a lot of key differences that make shochu unique. In comparison to vodka and other hard liquror's 45% alcohol, shochu is normally around 25% alcohol. Also, vodka and other hard liquors are normally distilled several times while shochu is often distilled only once. This allows the ingredients the shochu was made with to really shine through and allows for variation of taste. When it is single distilled, the shochu is called honkaku, when it is distilled more, it is called korui.

(L) barley; (R) sweet potato

For instance, Satsuma hokaku shochu (shown above) is made with sweet potatoes and the taste and aroma are stronger than other varieties. The taste can even be described as slightly smokey, like a whiskey. Other types of shochu may be made with rice, barley, sugar, and even soba. When it is made in the korui style, the alcohol level is higher (still lower than vodka) and becomes very clean and light tasting but without the nuances and aroma of honkaku single distilled varieties.

Traditionally, shochu is enjoyed neats, on the rocks, or diluted with hot water to allow the aroma to be enjoyed.

This Takara shochu is korui-style and very smooth

More recently, the Chūhai (チューハイ) cocktail has become a popular use of shochu. Chūhai, which is a portmanteau of "shochu" and "highball," combines shochu with carbonated water and lemon. This cocktail, low in alcohol and high in calories, now has tons of flavors: lychee, white peach, oolong, ume, yuzu, orange, grapefruit, and grape just to name a few that I have come across. I like the fact you can drink them without getting drunk as they are very low alcohol usually. Too bad it has so much sugar!

In my recipes, I usually use korui-style shochu, like shown in my umeshu recipe. I find korui shochu to be way smooth, less harsh tasting than vodka and the lower alcohol content keeps me from getting sick since I am sensitive to alcohol.

Recipes that use shochu:
Umeshu
Ichigoshu
Yuzu Kosho Bloody Mary

Mizuna, Apple and Jicama Salad with Yuzu Kosho Vinaigrette

I don't post a lot of salad recipes. They generally aren't my favorite thing, especially when the lettuce leaves are huge and they end up slapping me in the chin and I get salad dressing everywhere and look like an idiot. I never claimed to be graceful, in fact I'm pretty much a walking disaster when it comes to food and a lot of other things now that I ponder it.

I've written about the chaos that ensues while making dishes, but I'm also a natural disaster whilst dining as well. Spaghetti and salads made with lettuce are a sure-fire way to ruin a blouse in my book. I rarely disappoint when it comes to this splattering, despite being a slow and careful eater. This trait seems to be genetic, as my father tends to involuntarily decorate his button-downs as well.

However, here's a salad that I'd be willing to wear white silk around because mizuna isn't nearly as ungainly on a fork as romaine or butter lettuce, especially when you chop it down to size. I mean, don't get me wrong, if anyone can make a mess of things it's me, but I'd at least take that challenge. My only other beef about salads: their names are often unwieldy as hell!

Yuzu Kosho

Yuzu Kosho is a powerhouse condiment and another specialty of Kyushu I wanted to share with you. A simple but inspired paste of yuzu zest, chili peppers, and salt, there are two types depending on whether red or green chili peppers were used.

My mother, who by the way I just realized doesn't have a nickname (Mama Mochi?), really fell in love with this condiment when we were served it with a hot pot dish. Being served as a condiment for nabemono, or hot pot cooking, is definitely the most traditional usage for yuzu kosho, but it is versatile and especially delicious as an ingredient in sauces for grilled meats or even salads.

As stated above, there are two types of yuzu kosho: green (ao) and red (aka). I happen to think the green is a bit sharper than the red, but I urge you to try them both and draw your own conclusions, as there doesn't seem to be a consensus on the difference between the two besides color. Both of them are a magical mixture of floral, spicy, citrusy notes that make wonder why every culture doesn't have a chili citrus paste in its repertoire.

Yuzu kosho is sold in very tiny quantities normally

This is a condiment that still isn't widely seen outside of hot pot restaurants, but it is having its moment, with publications like Bon Appetit and Saveur both publishing articles extolling its virtues with recipes in tow.

You'll find it at any well-stocked Japanese market, but it might take a bit of searching as it is generally purchased in a tiny little jar the photo on the right. This paste is normally dabbed on pieces of simmered hot pot ingredients, however it can be thinned and used to brighten up sauces or included in a marinade.

Marinate and grill a steak with it, make a spicy fresh vinaigrette, top fresh grilled seafood with it, spice up your noodles dishes, this condiment is so enlivening to so many dishes apparently it has even made its way into the arena of desserts!

Here's a list of recipes that include yuzu kosho on this site:
Mizuna, Apple, and Jicama salad with Yuzu Kosho Vinaigrette
Negima Nabe
Yudofu
Yuzu Kosho Bloody Mary