Once served to emperors, this traditional fermented fish is quietly making a comeback

From the late 7th century, Wakasa was one of three Miketsukuni, areas designated by law to provide seafood to the emperor and imperial court. The port of Obama, nestled between mountains and the sheltered waters of Wakasa Bay on the Sea of Japan, was Wakasa’s center of supply. 

From this closest seaport to the capital, porters would carry salt, seaweed, and salted fish in baskets tied to their backs directly across the rugged mountains to Nara and Kyoto. This route, known as the Saba Kaidō, or Mackerel Highway, owes its name to the abundance of mackerel in Wakasa Bay. This bounty was due to the bay’s ideal environment, created by the convergence of the warm Tsushima Current from the south and the cool Liman Current from the north.

The 72-kilometer journey from Obama to Kyoto along the Mackerel Highway took just enough time for the preserved fish to reach its optimal flavor. Seafood from Obama was highly valued in Kyoto as “Wakasa food,” and one popular dish, saba-zushi—sushi rice pressed with a fillet of salted and pickled mackerel—is still a popular washoku today and a feature of Kyoto’s annual Gion festival.

Among the foods sent to Kyoto in bygone days, one stand-out is a unique type of preserved mackerel known as Heshiko.

Heshiko

Inland along the northern section of Obama lies the hamlet of Tagarasu, meaning “crows in the rice paddies.” In one of its quiet valleys, surrounded by green mountains and picturesque rice terraces, stands a disused elementary school. Once alive with the laughter and chatter of energetic children, its classrooms fell silent more than a decade ago. Today, its schoolyard is occasionally used by elderly locals who gather for a leisurely game of gateball.

But in recent years, the school building has gained a new purpose. Its once lively classrooms are now home to hundreds, yea, thousands, of silent inhabitants—mackerel.

Tagarasu is where I was fortunate to learn about Heshiko, an ancient technique that uses salt and fermentation to preserve fish. Born out of necessity, this method helped Obama fulfill its role as a Miketsukuni, furnishing high-quality seafood from Wakasa Bay to the imperial cities of Nara and Kyoto along the “Mackerel Highway.” It also provided a vital source of protein for people living in the mountains, ensuring they had healthy food to carry them through the harsh winter months when deep snow made fresh supplies scarce.

Today, heshiko remains a local delicacy, rich in umami. Its preservation process involves salting and fermenting fish — usually mackerel, sometimes herring — for over a year.

The process begins in autumn with a fresh catch of mackerel. The fish are gutted and cleaned, their cavities filled with salt, and then they are packed into large cedar barrels.

Once a barrel is full, the fish are covered, and a two-kilogram weight is placed on top. A day or two later, the fish are removed, packed in fresh barrels, and pressed with a heavier weight. This process continues, with the weight gradually increasing, until excess liquids are removed from the fish.

When the fish are sufficiently moisture-free, they are repacked into barrels—this time filled and layered with rice bran instead of salt. Togarashi peppers are added to deter insects, and sturdy straw ropes are tied tightly around the barrel rims to seal the containers. 

Left undisturbed for about a year, the mackerel undergoes slow fermentation. The following winter, the fish have transformed into heshiko and are ready to be eaten.

Heshiko is packed with nutrition and is a rich source of protein, calcium, iron, dietary fiber, EPA, DHA, beneficial enzymes, and vitamins B and D. The family of heshiko producers I met hope that one day, heshiko will be recognized as the superfood it is and that Tagarasu’s heshiko will become a household name.

Heshiko goes well with a cup of dry sake or beer. It can be served in all kinds of ways—thinly sliced atop a wedge of daikon radish, grilled, as sushi, or in chazuke — topping on a bowl of rice with green tea poured over it.

Narezushi

Some heshiko are fermented further and made into narezushi—the earliest form of sushi. To make this, the fish are first rinsed to remove the rice bran, then skinned and soaked in water to draw out excess salt. Next, they are filled with rice and koji mold — Aspergillus oryzae, the same spores used to make sake, soy sauce, and miso paste — and packed back into barrels with more rice and koji.

A weight is placed on top, and the mixture is left to ferment for a couple of weeks. After this, the narezushi is ready to eat.

Like many fermented foods, narezushi is an acquired taste and is best served in small portions. It is not nearly as salty as heshiko, and I can see how it would be a popular snack to nibble on with sake or beer.

If you’re in Japan but can’t make it up to Obama, you can order heshiko online from https://www.kadono-heshiko.com/. Unfortunately, Kadono-san cannot ship internationally.

The post Heshiko—Japan’s (Almost) Forgotten Superfood first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Old and new ways to ring in the New Year

After first arriving in Japan in 1987, I quickly learned to stock up for the first three days of the New Year since all stores would be shuttered while their owners and employees spent time with their families.

Times have changed. Today most stores remain open during the holidays and 24-hour convenience stores abound.

While modern times have brought welcome changes, perhaps along the way some of the understanding of the holiday customs has been lost, cast aside amid the hubbub of TV specials and New Year’s Sales.

To understand Japan’s New Year, we need to return to the holiday’s roots, which date as far back as the 1st century. In those days, the ancient people celebrated in three main ways.

• Welcoming the toshi-kami, the god of the new year.
• Praying for bountiful harvests in the coming year.
• Expressing gratitude for another year of life.

These practices are reflected in today’s New Year’s traditions, and each of the holiday’s countless customs is imbued with meaning.

Let’s take a look at a few of the most outstanding traditions, work our way forward in time, and end with a look at those TV specials.

Welcoming the God of the New Year, the Toshi-Kami

The Shinto Toshi-kami descends from the heavens via the pine decorations that adorn each house. Around the time families break and eat their kagami mochi, the New Year’s decorations are ceremonially burned—typically around January 15th, depending on regional customs—the smoke transports the god back to the heavens, leaving behind his blessings and protection for the year ahead.

This Toshi-kami is a busy god with a wide portfolio. Besides being the god who brings bounty and blessings in the new year, he also merges with the collective spirit of each family’s ancestors, their sorei, who visits their family at this time (although the sorei’s main holiday is Obon, in the summer). The Toshi-kami then becomes a ta no kami, rice field god, in the spring, and a yama no kami, mountain god, after harvest in the fall. He is also sometimes known as the god of lucky directions.

Reflecting the importance of purity and cleanliness in the Shinto religion, a thorough house cleaning is done at the end of December. People get rid of clutter, dust behind cabinets, change the paper in the paper doors, and make their houses spotless. Once that is done, Shimenawa ropes are hung upon the doorways signifying that the house is purified and ready to welcome the Toshi-kami.

Gratitude for Another Year of Life

Long ago in Japan, in accord with the Chinese method of counting years, newborns were considered one year old, and another year of life was added to everyone on New Year’s Day, regardless of their birthdays.

Gifts of Money, O-Toshi-Dama

As a kind of birthday present on New Year’s Day, children receive small envelopes filled with money for the year from each of their older relatives. This money is called o-toshi-dama, お年玉, literally “honorable year’s jewels.” Since Christmas is a fairly recent import into Japan and not a holiday (see my brief history of Christmas here), New Year’s Day is the day children have traditionally looked forward to receiving gifts, i.e., money.

Special New Year’s Dishes, Osechi-ryori

In order to take a holiday from cooking and enjoy time with one’s extended family, special foods are painstakingly prepared in advance — or bought — to be eaten together with the Toshi-kami during the first three days of the new year. Eating these meals with the gods is said to impart spiritual power and blessings upon the mortals.

Each food has its specific meaning, and there are too many to mention, but here are a few.

Sea Bream — Tai, for an auspicious year

The traditional Japanese calendar started in spring and so New Year’s Day used to be a springtime occasion. From the image of the first sprouts appearing came the expression mede-tai, 芽出度い (pronounced meh-deh-tie), literally “the time when sprouts emerge.” From that, mede-tai came to be used to describe something happy and auspicious.

For this reason, sea bream, called tai, 鯛, is an essential part of any osechi-ryōri. It plays on the homonym tai, “happy” and “auspicious” — everyone’s sincere wish for the new year.

Herring Roe — Kazunoko, for many children

Another popular item is herring roe, called kazunoko, 鯑. Its homonym means many children, 数の子.

Shrimp — Ebi, for long life

As a wish for long life, shrimp are eaten. Shrimp, called ebi, 海老, literally “the aged of the sea,” suggest the long beards and bent frames of the elderly.

Dried Sardines — Tazukuri, for bountiful harvests

Tazukuri, 田作り, is a dish made of dried sardines and soy sauce. Its name means “making a rice field.” Sardines were traditionally used as fertilizer in rice paddies in many areas of Japan, thus the dish expresses the wish for abundant harvests.

Rolled Omelets — Datemaki, for days of blessings

Perhaps my favorite wordplay is the name for the rolled, sweet omelet mixed with fish paste. It is called datemaki, 伊達巻 (pronounced dah-te-ma-key), so named because the samurai lords of Sendai (in Miyagi Prefecture), the Date clan (dah-te), were famous for being well-dressed.

In ancient Japan, holidays were called hare no hi, ハレの日, special days, and on such days people wore their finest clothes — what we might call their Sunday best.

From this idea of fashionable Date clan style clothing being worn on special days, the Date-maki sweet omelet expresses the wish for many such special days in the coming year.

Bell Ringing

From the introduction of Buddhism in the 6th century, Buddhist customs merged with the ancient Shinto customs. As such, at midnight on New Year’s Eve, Buddhist temple bells are rung 108 times, banishing the 108 worldly desires. This marks both a prayer for forgiveness for the past year, and a prayer for steadfastness in the next.

First Shrine Visit of the Year, Hatsumōde

On the first three days of the New Year, people flock to Shinto shrines, and many to Buddhist temples, for their first visit of the year, called Hatsumōde. Meiji Shrine in the center of Tokyo traditionally receives over 3 million visitors each year during the New Year’s holidays, but even small countryside shrines get plenty of visitors.

Visitors to shrines clap, bow, and say a brief prayer for the year. People often buy omikuji, little slips of paper picked out from a box with their fortunes for the year foretold. If they are worried that not all of their fortune is good, they can tie the paper to a tree or a wire hung at the shrine, and leave that undesirable fortune in the hands of the gods, carrying the good fortune home in their hearts.

As all their previous year’s omamori (good luck charms), daruma dolls, and household protective amulets were brought to shrines to be burned at the end of December, people buy new charms for such things as safety and protection for the new year, success in studies, or safe childbirth, new daruma for setting goals for the year, and new ema upon which to write their prayers.

Nengajo, New Year’s Greeting Postcards

On New Year’s Day, bundles of postcards are delivered to each house. These are sent by friends and associates containing words of thanks for past kindnesses, well-wishes, and yoroshiku-onegaishimasu — please, and thank you in advance — for kindnesses in the new year.

People spend time during the day nibbling on osechi-ryōri, reading over the various greetings, and remembering old friends. The cards are usually themed according to the animals of the Chinese zodiac, 2022 being the year of the Tiger.

TV Specials

A big event in many households is the yearly New Year’s Eve TV specials. The most famous by far is a good-natured singing contest, Kōhaku Uta Gassen. Musicians are divided into two teams, a red team composed of females, and a white team composed of males. The red and white division of teams gives the show its name, Kōhaku, meaning red and white.

NHK, the national TV broadcasting corporation, began airing this show from the year Japan got its first TVs, 1953. Musicians are chosen by invitation only, and performing on Kōhaku is considered quite an honor and even can be the highlight of one’s career. The spectacular lighting, costumes, and set design never disappoint.

At the end of the show, the audience, together with the judges, votes on the winning team.

Competing with Kōhaku for viewers is a bizarre show that is popular among many of the younger generation, called, Dauntaun no Gaki no Sukaiyaarahende! which defies translation.

On this year-end special, serious celebrities face off against several old-school comedians who are placed in various situations — on a bus, then in a school, or whatever the theme is that year — and the celebrities do and say outrageous things to make the comedians laugh.

If they laugh, which they inevitably do, people dressed in commando camouflage jump out and spank them with rubbery batons. The absurdity of all this is considered hilarious.

Japanese TV, truly unique, has to be seen to be believed.

This is by no means a complete list of New Year’s customs. Other traditions include making and eating delicious pounded sticky rice cakes called mochi, children flying kites in the clear breezy skies of winter, and eager shoppers hunting for “lucky bags” filled with mystery discounts at their favorite stores. In a small fishing port on the Izu Peninsula, on finds a unique New Year’s decoration welcoming the god of the New Year—Shiokatsuo, and ancient type of dried bonito. Even one’s first dream of the year is significant, but I think only in Japan does one hope it contains Mount Fuji, a hawk, or an eggplant.

By January 4th, people begin to go back to their normal routines, greeting coworkers and associates by saying akemashite-omedetō-gozaimasu, “Happy New Year,” and naturally, “For this year, too, please and thank you in advance,” kotoshi-mo, yoroshiku-onegaishimasu.

Sources:

https://maminyan.com/shogatsu/know/toshigamisama.html, https://www1.nhk.or.jp/kouhaku/, https://www.ntv.co.jp/gaki/, many years in Japan.

The post Japanese New Year — Gods, Symbolic Foods, and TV Extravaganzas first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

The national holiday celebrating children and families

May 5th is Children’s Day in Japan, a national holiday with a long and amazing history.

The Five Festivals

Children’s Day is one of the five seasonal festivals, or go-sekku, brought to Japan from China in the 8th century. These five festivals marked the change of seasons and were days set aside to prepare for the coming months through purification, prayers, and banishment of misfortune. Still celebrated in Japan, they occur on odd-numbered days:

• 1/1 was eclipsed by New Year’s celebrations, so the seasonal holiday was moved to 1/7. It is called Jin-jitsu, Human Day, or Nanakusa-no-sekku, Seven Herbs Day, and is when a purifying rice gruel is eaten. 
• 3/3 Hina Matsuri, Girls’ Day
• 5/5 Tango-no-sekku, formerly Boys’ Day, now Children’s Day
• 7/7 Tanabata, The Star Festival
• 9/9 Kiku-no-sekku, The Chrysanthemum Festival

Precursors of Children’s Day

Children’s Day finds its antecedent in the Iris Festival, Shōbu-no-sekku, also called Tango-no-sekku.

In ancient China, the fifth lunar month was considered unlucky, especially the 5th day, which was called “Double Fifth.” On that day, people hung iris plants, mugwort, and garlic above the entranceways to their houses, believing that these plants would ward off natural disasters, illnesses, and evil spirits.

Centuries later, this custom was carried to Japan and came to include prayers for the upcoming rice planting season. Like the Chinese, the Japanese decorated their eaves with irises and mugwort to ward off misfortune.

As the years passed, new customs were added. People put iris leaves under their pillows to drive away evil and added finely chopped iris leaves to their sake.

Young girls would bathe in water with iris petals for purification. These girls, known as sa-otome, were central to Ta no Kami, or rice field god, festivals held on the day when the rice seedlings were transplanted into the flooded paddies.

These varied forms of purification are still practiced in some households today. Many onsens, or hot springs, across the country offer special Shōbu-no-yu baths with iris leaves on May 5th.

At the ancient imperial court in Nara, aristocratic women wore iris hair ornaments to a grand ceremony in the palace where the emperor would bestow a fragrant kusu-dama upon his vassals. This was an ornamental ball filled with medicinal herbs that opened in half when a string was pulled, dropping its contents. The herbs were for purification and to cast out evil spirits.

Samurai culture gives birth to Boys’ Day

Under the samurai rulers of the Kamakura era (1185–1333), the Iris Festival became Boys’ Day. Samurai focused on raising strong boys to become courageous warriors who would continue their family lines.

The word for iris, shōbu 菖蒲 is pronounced the same as shōbu 尚武, meaning valiant or warlike. That, and the fact that the hanging iris leaves resemble swords, is thought to have played a part in the change. 

Families visited shrines and gave offerings of armor, praying for the health and prosperity of all their sons, but most particularly, their heirs.

People began to decorate their houses with small displays of armor, helmets, swords, and arrows, symbolizing protection for their boys’ health. This custom continues to this day.

Carp streamers

During the Edo era (1603–1867), the practice of hanging koi-nobori, or windsock-like carp streamers, one for each boy in the family, began among the townspeople of Edo (Tokyo). 

Filled with strength, vitality, and adaptability, carp can survive in clear streams and muddy, in marshes and in lakes. They can persevere and struggle to swim upstream and even climb waterfalls. Koi-nobori streamers are hung with the prayer that a family’s sons will grow to be hardy, adaptable, and strong, like carp.

On the riverbanks of Edo, yet another custom began. Ishi-gasen, or stone-throwing fights, and it is exactly what it sounds like. This custom resulted in some serious injuries and even deaths among the young participants, so thankfully, the shogun soon outlawed it.

Children’s Day

In 1948, Boys’ Days was changed to Children’s Day and was christened as a day to celebrate not just children but to honor the family unit. In contrast to Girls’ Day on March 3, Children’s Day is a national holiday.

Celebratory Food

Grandparents and families gather on Children’s Day to eat a special meal, often featuring carp, rice cooked with adzuki beans, and seasonal vegetables.

Children’s day is known for two special types of sweets. Chimaki are rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves, chi signifying cleverness. Kashiwa-mochi are sticky rice cakes — soft yet chewy — filled with sweet red bean paste wrapped in oak leaves. Oak leaves symbolize force, manliness, and endurance.

References:

図説民俗探訪事典 compiled by 大島 暁雄, http://www.ningyo-kyokai.or.jp/sekku/tango.html, https://www.nytimes.com/1991/05/01/garden/for-children-s-day-sweets-of-course.html, and more.

The post Children’s Day in Japan—Carp Streamers, Samurai, and Sweets first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

For centuries, daughters have been the focus of celebration on Hinamatsuri

One of the Five Seasonal Festivals

Hinamatsuri, the Dolls’ Festival, is a special Japanese day of celebration for girls in which elaborate sets of courtly dolls are displayed in all homes with daughters and in various public places. The day is also known as the Peach Festival and the Girls’ Festival. 

Hinamatsuri falls on the 3rd day of the 3rd month and is one of the five seasonal festivals, go-sekku. These were imported from Tang Dynasty China in the 8th century as days to banish misfortune and to wish for good luck and good health in the coming season.

Each of the five seasonal festivals falls on a lucky day — 1/1 (moved to 1/7 so as not to overlap with New Year’s Day), 3/3, 5/5, 7/7, and 9/9 according to the lunar calendar. With the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1872, these holidays were moved to Western dates that mirrored their former auspicious odd-numbered lunar months and days.

Heian Era Roots

During the Heian Era (794–1185), aristocratic children played with paper or straw dolls. Reflecting ancient Shinto thought, these dolls came to be used as vessels into which impurities were transferred. A springtime custom called nagashi-bina developed, in which dolls imbued with the children’s “sins” were placed in streams to wash out to sea, thereby purifying the children.

The third lunar month was when the peach trees blossomed. These delicate pink blossoms were thought to ward off evil spirits, and they have become an integral part of Hinamatsuri decorations.

Courtly Dolls

During the more than two centuries of peace during the Edo Era (1603–1867), the simple paper and straw dolls of the Heian children transformed into the elaborate and beautiful dolls we see today. These dolls embodied the Edo Era people’s image of the elegance and refinement of the Heian imperial court. 

Hina Doll sets originally contained only one male and one female, a Heian Era emperor and empress, which were to take upon themselves the impurities of the children. As the years passed, the number of dolls increased to include a complete royal retinue with all their accoutrements. 

The sets grew to occupy either 5 or 7 tiers. The dolls were displayed before and during the Hinamatsuri, with the prayer that they would bring good fortune and a happy marriage to the girls in the family.

Hina Dolls Today — What Is on Each Tier

Let’s take a look at a Hina Doll display. The photo above shows an elaborate, yet typical, traditional doll set.

Tier 1

The emperor and empress hold the place of honor seated in front of a gold folding screen. These dolls do not represent a specific royal couple, with the rare exception of some sets that were made in the late 1800s to represent Emperor Meiji and Empress Shōken.

As is the custom, the male doll is holding a shaku, or ritual baton. The female is holding a folding fan. They are flanked by two paper lanterns called bonbori.

Between them are vases of miniature peach branches, a decoration called sanbō kazari, which one imagines was given as an offering to the couple.

The male on the left signifies that this set is a Tokyo style set. Those of the Kyoto style have the male on the right.

Tier 2

Three ladies-in-waiting occupy the second tier, ready at a moment’s notice to pour sake for the happy couple. 

Separating the ladies are two tables holding pink and white mochi — pounded sticky rice cakes. 

The colors pink and white are often used for celebratory events. White symbolizes long life and fertility, and red or pink is traditionally used to ward off evil.

Tier 3

Musicians wait upon this level, ready to entertain the royal couple. Four men hold instruments — a flute and three different types of drums — and the singer holds a fan.

Tier 4

On this tier we have the highest ranking aristocrat, the elderly Minister of the Left, and the next highest ranking, the younger Minister of the Right.

Between the men are tables to hold festive foods and diamond-shaped tables holding diamond-shaped sweets called hishi-mochi, a specialty reserved for Hinamatsuri. 

Hishi-mochi are layered mochi cakes in pink and white, with a green layer added to represent good health, and in some areas, a yellow level symbolizing nanohana flowers, some of the first to bloom in spring.

Tier 5

Upon this level sit three guards or helpers, each with an interesting name: the quarrelsome drinker, the maudlin drinker, and the merry drinker.

True to the actual trees in the royal palace in Heian, there is a tachibana orange tree on the western side and a cherry blossom tree on the eastern side.

Tier 6

Here you will find items one needs inside the house — tiny dressers, long chests for kimono storage, chests for clothing, mirror stands, hibachi braziers, boxes of tea ceremony utensils, and even a sewing box.

Tier 7

Finally, we have things the couple would need for traveling — a palanquin in which to be carried, nested boxes for food, and an oxcart for the many chests of clothing. 

About Hina Dolls

Classic Hina dolls are still made in the traditional way. Starting with a wood, straw, and paper base, the dolls are clothed in many layers of silk, stuffed with cotton to create the form, and finally finished with a delicate face carved from wood and covered with gofun, a layer of ground oyster shell and glue to give the face a pure white finish. Long hair made from silk or real hair is attached and styled in the ancient Heian fashion.

Hina dolls and their furnishings are very costly works of fine craftsmanship. Just one doll can take up to six months to create. Some sets are considered family heirlooms and are passed down from mother to daughter through generations.

The dolls can be displayed from the first day of spring  —  the day after the demons have been vanquished on Setsubun  —  and enjoyed throughout the month and on Hinamatsuri at the beginning of March. 

Women are admonished to put all the dolls away the day after Hinamatsuri. Failing to do so was believed to result in a daughter marrying late.

Hinamatsuri Food and Drink

What would a Japanese holiday be without special food? Here are a few of the celebratory foods for Hinamatsuri.

• Hina arare — crunchy, colored, rice cracker balls.
• Hishi mochi — multi colored mochi cakes stacked in diamond shapes. The diamond shape is also considered lucky.
• Ichigo daifuku — strawberries covered in sweet azuki bean paste and mochi — have recently joined the ranks of Hinamatsuri treats.
• Sakura mochi — azuki bean paste filled pink mochi cakes, wrapped in edible cherry blossom leaves.
• Ushio jiru — a clear soup made from hamaguri clams. As clams have two connected shells, they signify the wish for a happy marriage.
• Chirashi zushi — sushi rice into which is mixed, for example, simmered carrots, mushrooms, and lotus root, then topped with shrimp and/or sashimi, egg, and nanohana florets. Probably every cook makes it differently, while sticking to the pink, white, green, and yellow motif.
• Ama zake — sweet, thick beverage made from rice koji, the fermented rice used to make sake and miso paste. It is non-alcoholic and is considered healthy.
• White sake — strong, sweet sake with a cloudy white color.

In recent years, people have started to forgo traditional sweets in favor of beautiful, store-bought cakes, but no one with daughters will ever forgo celebrating Hinamatsuri.

The post Hinamatsuri—A Joyous Day for Girls in Japan first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Ordered by my daughter at a Japanese restaurant

I realize that “strangest food” is subjective, so some of these may not be so strange to you. Nevertheless, allow me to share a few of my stand-outs.

A couple of years ago, I wrote that a rural Japanese innkeeper had served me the most exotic food I have ever eaten. That was true, but life and meals moved on, and now it’s time for an update.

Whale

In my other article, I neglected to mention whale. Yes, I have eaten whale both raw and cooked. It was even served to my children in their school lunches once a year.

School lunches are considered a part of the children’s education. There is an emphasis on eating a variety of foods with a balanced nutritional content. Once a year or so, they serve traditional foods to continue awareness. Whale was one of those.

Anyway, whale is easy to find at fish markets. Some cuts are intended to be eaten raw and others to be cooked, its fat is used to create an umami-filled broth, and even its intestines are sliced and eaten — see the circular items pictured below. Nothing goes to waste.

Speaking of whale, my daughter was gifted rice crackers, some flavored with whale, some with octopus, and some with blowfish—another delicacy in Japan that I’ve eaten both cooked and raw.

But still, these foods are not that strange, nor is my next offering.

Yuba

If you have visited Kyoto, perhaps you’ve had macha (green tea) noodles with yuba. 

Yuba is a food that developed as part of shojin-ryori, Buddhist vegetarian cuisine. It is the film that forms when soy milk is boiled. It’s gently lifted off and used in many creative ways. Its subtle flavor makes it versatile, and it’s hard to miss if you’re in Kyoto, Nikkō, or Mount Kōya.

Fermented mackerel

Now we start to veer into the exotic with fermented mackerel, called heshiko. Its production is limited to a small village in Fukui Prefecture. Heshiko is centuries old, developed to be sent on the backs of porters to Kyoto and Nara. 

Mackerel caught in Wakasa Bay is cleaned, then packed in salt and rice bran and left to ferment for six months or more. 

Heshiko is so interesting it deserves its own article. More on that later.

Monkfish liver

Monkfish are odd-looking creatures. I did not know that one could eat their livers, but having done so, I do now. 

Tasty, but not something I would go out of my way to seek out.

Wasabi ice cream

We usually think of wasabi as a condiment for sushi, sashimi, or soba, but it can be used for other things, too, like ice cream. But it must be fresh, which is completely different than the imitation wasabi made from horseradish that is sold in tubes in supermarkets.

I have had it a few times, and it’s both mildly hot and sweet. Try it, if you get a chance.

Now on to the winner of this article’s strangest food.

The strangest food

This exotic food appeared on my stage last month.

It all started when my eldest son decided to fly across the globe to visit his mother in rural Japan. One whim led to another, and one day my son, one of my daughters who was also visiting, and I, found ourselves exploring a shrine to none other than Ninigi-no-Mikoto, the grandson of the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu Omikami, from whom all Japanese emperors descended.

Japanese shrines are usually at the top of long staircases, and this was no exception. We were starting to feel a bit peckish.

Google Maps led us to a nearby restaurant. It was closed. A very eager-to-help woman in the parking lot drew us a map to a chain sushi restaurant, but on the way, I wanted to check out a small one.

It looked good. Old. Traditional building. We went in.

Gold and uni

Oh, but wait! I completely forgot about gold leaf! I’ve eaten that numerous times.

And uni? Uni is sea urchin. But not all of the sea urchin — only the gonads are served in Japanese restaurants and called uni.

So there’s that, too. Sea urchin gonads.

Back to the restaurant.

As we walked in, my daughter got all excited by one of the dishes listed in Japanese on the wall behind the counter.

“It’s seasonal, and they only make it this way in Kagoshima!” she enthused.

She ordered it. My son and I — not quite as “Japanese” as my red-haired and freckled daughter — didn’t pay much attention.

We ordered sushi sets, which were fresh and delicious and came with miso soup and chawan mushi, small cups of savory egg custard.

Then the dish my daughter ordered was served.

Tempura, my favorite! 

It looked delicious. But what could it be?

Cod semen

It was fish semen tempura. 

My daughter ate with gusto, and she was nice enough to share some with her brother and me.

I dare say, tempura is must be better than how it’s usually served.

Boiled, with ponzu—citrus soy sauce.

Yum.

What strange or exotic food have you eaten, that you actually liked?

The post More Exotic than Crickets — the Strangest Food I’ve Ever Eaten first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Exploring culinary traditions in Izu and Kochi

While hiking in the Izu Peninsula of Shizuoka, I was lucky enough to visit an unusual shop. Tucked away up a hill in rural Tago, on the western coast, Kanesa Katsuobushi sells bonito. But not just any bonito, they are among a handful of shops that still preserve the fish using the most ancient of methods.

Bonito, sometimes called skipjack tuna, has been a dietary staple in Japan for millennia, evident from the discovery of its bones in Jomon-era (14,000–300 BC) shell middens. And if you’ve ever eaten Japanese food, you’ve likely eaten bonito. It is the foundation of dashi broth, an indispensable ingredient in Japanese cuisine. You might have even seen fish flakes, shaved from dried bonito, dance like an apparition atop tofu, rice, and other dishes.

Katsuo, the Japanese word for bonito, can also be read as “a man who wins,” giving it a favorable connotation. Similarly, the association between the celebratory dish sea bream, called tai, and something happy and auspicious — known as mede-tai — shows how symbolism may contribute to a dish’s enduring popularity.

Because bonito is a seasonal fish, ancient people devised creative ways to preserve it. The earliest documented technique is shiokatsuo, salted and dried bonito, sent from the Izu peninsula as a gift to the Imperial Court during the Nara era (710–794). That is Kanesa Katsuo’s specialty.

To make shiokatsuo, bonito are cleaned, and their cavities are packed with salt. Each fish is then covered in salt and placed in cedar barrels to marinate for two weeks. After marination, the fish are removed, and the salt is rinsed off. The bonito are then hung in the shade and exposed to the cold westerly winds of Izu’s western coast for about three weeks to remove moisture, allowing the fish to dry and mature. As they slowly dry, the proteins in the bonito ferment and mature, concentrating their umami flavor.

Shiokatsuo is produced in early winter in the coastal town of Tago, on the Izu Peninsula, with production peaking in November.

The drying not only preserves but also ferments and ages the fish, concentrating its flavor — not unlike the process used in creating dry-cured ham.

Centuries ago, owners of bonito fishing boats on the western coast of Izu began offering shiokatsuo to Shinto shrines for purification, then serving it to their crews to celebrate the New Year. It was given both as a prayer for bountiful catches and as a guarantee of employment throughout the coming year. If a crew member was not given that gift, he knew he was out of a job.

As part of Shogatsu, or New Year’s celebration, people around Japan place kagami mochi, “mirror rice cakes,” on their house altars to welcome the god of the New Year. Not so in western Izu. Through the centuries, the custom of fishing boat owners offering shiokatsuo morphed into a unique tradition. Here, households and shrines hang shiokatsuo at their entrances to welcome the god of the New Year, as a prayer for bountiful fishing, and in appreciation to the bonito themselves.

This New Year’s tradition has kept alive this ancient method of preserving bonito . Each year in November, the Kanesa shop produces 400–500 shiokatsuo decorated with rice straw to be used during the New Year — called shogatsu-yo. And each year, they quickly sell out.

Kanesa Katsuo’s main product, though, is the most common form of bonito eaten in Japan — katsuobushi. Originating in the 17th century, this rocklike preserved fish is flaked and used as a topping for various dishes and is a key ingredient in dashi broth.

Known as the hardest food in the world, katsuobushi takes six months to prepare. First, the bonito is filleted, deboned, and cleaned before being boiled and left to dry on racks in a hot oven. Then the dried fillets are coated with koji mold — the same koji used in the production of sake, miso, and soy sauce — and left to mature for about four months. 

This process results in blocks of preserved fish that will later be shaved into “fish flakes.” Special heavy-duty planes are needed for shaving the rock-hard katsuobushi. Your mandoline slicer just won’t do. 

Bonito in Kochi

Each year, bonito migrate from the warm waters of southern Okinawa Prefecture along the eastern coasts of Kyushu, Shikoku, and Honshu.

To avail themselves of this bounty of the sea, fishermen in Kochi city on Shikoku island have long used a 400-year-old traditional method called ipponzuri, catching the bonito with a fishing pole. The fishermen first lure a school of these torpedo-shaped, silver-blue fish into a concentrated area and then catch them one by one. A single fish can weigh as much as 5 kilos (11 pounds).

Although fishing using large nets would be easier, this method is avoided to prevent damage to the fish and the unintentional capture of other species.

Seasonal treasures

Bonito are primarily harvested twice a year: from March to May in spring and from September to November in fall. The fish caught during these periods are renowned for their differing yet exceptional flavors.

In the early 17th century, the great haiku poet Yamaguchi Sodo extolled,

The poet was expressing his delight at the harbingers of warmer months — one of which was the first bonito of the season. 

Riding the warm Kuroshio current up from the south, these Hatsukatsuo, first bonito, or Noborikatsuo, up-bound bonito, caught between March and May were historically so valued that they were considered almost worth “pawning your wife and children” to obtain. Celebrated for their mild flavor and lower fat content, these fish are said to be best served as katsuo no tataki, or seared bonito.

Those caught from September to November are Modorikatsuo, returning bonito, or Kudarikatsuo, going back bonito. These fish have eaten heartily during their southward migration, resulting in a higher fat content that contributes to a more delicate taste and texture, making it an excellent choice for sashimi.

Kochi is also famous for its himodori katsuo — bonito eaten the same day it is caught — prized for its luxurious freshness.

Bonito is by far the most popular fish in Kochi, particularly Kochi City, where households consume an average of 5,163 grams (11 pounds, 6 ounces) per year — far more than any other city in Japan. This consumption has fostered a wide array of cooking styles.

How bonito is eaten

Aside from katsuobushi, sashimi is widely popular. But in Kochi, bonito sashimi takes a backseat to the local specialty, katsuo no tataki. 

To prepare this delicacy, the bonito is cleaned and filleted, and all bones are carefully removed. The resulting quarters of the fish are skewered and held over a fire of rice straw until the outside is seared. This rapid grilling eliminates excess moisture and any lingering fishy smell, enhances the flavor, and creates crispy skin. The seared fish is promptly plunged into ice water to halt the cooking process, then drained and sliced. Katsuo no tataki is served with condiments and sauces that vary by region and individual chef.

Shio tataki, another popular dish, features warm grilled bonito lightly sprinkled with salt. Fishermen often eat it with thin slices of fresh garlic. Other condiments include ponzu, a sauce made from soy sauce and local citrus, as well as salt and garlic, myoga (a mild type of Japanese ginger), scallions, shiso (perilla) leaves, and nihaizu, a 50/50 mix of soy sauce and vinegar.

And there are more. Tosa-maki is rolled sushi filled with seared bonito, shiso leaves, and sometimes raw garlic. Another is harambo, broiled bonito belly served with salt. Chichiko, bonito heart, is generally prepared in one of two ways — stewed in a sweet and salty broth of ginger and soy sauce or simply grilled with salt.

For the more adventurous palate, there’s shuto, written with the Japanese characters for “sake” and “theft.” 酒盗 This peculiar name comes from the dish’s perfect pairing with sake, tempting drinkers to steal the tasty dish. Shuto is a paste made from the salted and fermented organs of bonito mixed with sake, mirin, honey, and onions, resulting in, shall we say, a unique and bold flavor.

Although I traveled far to learn about this amazingly versatile fish, the largest number of bonito caught in the country is right in Kagoshima Prefecture, my home.

The post Bonito — Ancient, Essential Basis of Japanese Cuisine first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Wild vegetables, or sansai, play an important role in Japanese cuisine

Washoku, Japanese cuisine, is a celebration of seasonal dishes, and sansai, 山菜, wild mountain vegetables, play a starring role. Elderly folks have told me of the long-held belief that whatever foods are in season are what our bodies require at that time of year for optimum health. Surely, that holds true for sansai.

On my late afternoon springtime walks, I can find lots of sansai, the same as you might be served at inns or local restaurants.

Join me, as I walk around my neighborhood.

Bamboo shoots

The first thing to catch my eye not 50 meters from my house is a bamboo shoot, although far past its time for harvest.

If you want to try one yourself, don’t make the same mistake we did. These fast-growing plants need to be cut from the ground at first sight of the tiny tip breaking through the soil. Otherwise, they are too tough to eat.

Once you dig up a shoot, peel off the outer layers, then boil the heart in water with salt or a little nuka rice bran to remove its astringency.

Bamboo shoots are a crunchy addition to rice dishes like chirashizushi and takikomi-gohan, and I chop and freeze some to use out of season. Like pretty much every other vegetable in Japan, they are often added to soups. I’ve also had them made into tempura, or boiled with root vegetables in soy sauce, sake, and sugar.

Called “green gold” in India because of their nutritious value, bamboo shoots are rich in fiber and low in calories, they are a good source of vitamins A, B6, and E, potassium, manganese, thiamine, and niacin.

Next, all I had to do was turn around, and I spied a field filled with horsetails.

Horsetails

In the spring, horsetails are the first sansai, and they pop up everywhere. Their little leafless sprouts have a cute Japanese name — tsukushi, 土筆, a paintbrush 筆, coming out of the ground 土.

People stop by the road to gather them and bring them home to blanch, then prepare with a miso/vinegar sauce, or scramble them with eggs, or perhaps pickle them to be eaten throughout the year.

Some people claim that horsetails can treat urinary tract infections, edema, kidney stones, and rheumatism. Others say they help skin conditions and can even aid hair and nail growth.

But I am not a practitioner of herbal medicine. I just enjoy a horsetail or two when served as part of a traditional Japanese meal.

I turn from the horsetails, walk down the hill, and come upon the third sansai of this walk.

Angelica

My favorite path meanders through rice fields and vegetable gardens. As I am walking, a man calls out to me from where he stands beside some very tall plants. He’s cutting the tips off fresh sprouts.

He tells me that these plants are not native to our area, but a friend in Nagano gifted them to him. He waxes eloquently about the deliciousness of tara no mi and insists I take some home and tempura them for dinner.

I did just that, and they were indeed delicious!

I later learned that tara no mi are angelica tips, a favorite among herbalists, and realized I’ve often been served it at inns in Nagano.

Angelica is used as a tonic for the nervous system, to treat digestive issues, respiratory infections, and menstrual cramps. This website claims it has anti-anxiety effects. I can’t say I’ve noticed any of these effects.

But my walk isn’t over. I follow the stream to another area of paddies, up a hill by greenhouses made of plastic sheeting, and down a disused path. Along the side, I spy our next sansai.

Butterbur buds

Butterbur has a long history of medicinal use.

The 1st century Greek, Pedanius Dioscorides, is said to have used a paste made from powdered butterbur to treat skin ulcers. In 17th century Germany, powdered butterbur root was used to treat sudden abdominal pain, asthma, and colds. In the 18th century, that same powder was used to treat plague victims.

Today, herbalists use butterbur to treat migraines, colds, hay fever, inflammation, and more.

Butterbur buds, or fuki no to, 蕗のとう, are almost as common as horsetails. They are best picked when they first appear, and the buds are still closed. They can be sauteed and mixed with miso paste or fried in tempura. Not only are they delicious, but they are full of vitamins, minerals, and fiber.

I think this next one is my favorite, but I wonder, is it really sansai? It seems to me to be cultivated.

Baby mustard greens

Baby mustard greens, or baby bok choy, is a tender, sweet leafy vegetable. The local elderly folk who keep gardens often put out bundles to sell, and that’s where I’ve gotten mine.

Like all sansai, they are best eaten fresh. Use them raw in salads, stir-fry with garlic, or add to soup.

They are low-calorie, full of fiber, and rich in vitamins A, C, and K, calcium, iron, potassium, and trace minerals. They also contain cancer-fighting antioxidants and prevent inflammation.

And I just thought they were a delicious spring treat!

As I walk through the rice fields, this last sansai is everywhere.

Chinese milk vetch

Chinese milk vetch covers most of the rice fields in my area each spring and, I’ve been told, is a boon to rice farmers. It has lovely Japanese names, rengeso, 蓮華草, lotus flower grass, or genge 紫雲英, purple clouds. When in full flower, the plants are turned under to provide needed nitrogen to the soil.

A field covered in purple Chinese milk vetch is a field that will produce a bountiful crop of rice, or so the farmers assure me.

Leaving the rice fields behind, I hike back up the hill to my house, refreshed and revitalized from my daily walk, taking in the beauty of nature.

I hope you can try some of these sansai if you haven’t yet. Do you have wild vegetables in your area?

The post Sansai—6 Helpful Herbs that Herald Spring first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

And a brief history of Christmas in Japan

When my children were young, a kind elderly friend used to ring our doorbell on Christmas eve, then proudly hand us a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken that included a “Christmas Cake” and a KFC commemorative plate. This was, after all, the way Americans celebrated Christmas — or was it?

A Little History of Christmas in Japan

In 1560, thanks to the missionary work of Francis Xavier, the first recorded Christmas event was held in Kyoto, attended by about 100 people. In 1568, as incredible as it sounds, there is an account of the warlords Oda Nobunaga and Matsunaga Hisahide agreeing to a temporary truce over Christmas.

Just 50 years later, when Christianity was outlawed and became punishable by death under the Tokugawa Shogunate in 1613, any hopes of further Christmases were dashed. This enforced suppression continued until the country opened up to the West in the last half of the 1800s. With the influx of Western ideas, Christmas slowly seeped back in.

The first Christmas displays in Japan appeared in 1904 at the Meiji-ya department store in Ginza, Tokyo, and they attracted widespread attention. The practice spread, and other shops began decorating, restaurants and coffee shops started offering limited menus for Christmastime, and in 1910, Fujiya sold its first “Decoration Christmas Cake.”

The consumer Christmas was born.

Somewhere along the line, the knowledge that Xavier imparted about the religious significance of Christmas was lost.

Aside from the fact that Christ is known more as Iesu Kirisuto in Japan, the words Christ and Christmas look and sound completely different in Japanese. You can see why there would be a disconnect that we English speakers wouldn’t experience.

As well, Christianity was never a popular religion in Japan. Today, a mere 1.1% are Christians.

But, back to history.

Post War Christmases

After the initial hard years following WWII, Japan’s economy began to grow at an exponential rate. Initially boosted by the production of war materials to fuel the Korean War during the early 1950s, the Japanese economy grew at an average of 10% per year from 1955 to 1973. People started to have disposable income for the first time in a generation — as well as a curiosity for things Western.

Christmas Eve soon became a night where romantic partners could enjoy a quiet dinner out, with maybe an exchange of gifts, like a Japanese version of Valentine’s Day.

While Christmas has never been a holiday, families with children began to celebrate by eating a store-bought “Christmas Cake” on Christmas night, and many gave small gifts to their children.

There were Christmas sales, Christmas music piped in at department stores, Christmas events at theme parks, and Winter “illumination” on city streets. All these customs have only increased and spread over the years.

The “Kentucky for Christmas” Campaign

How Kentucky Fried Chicken’s Christmas marketing strategy was born has almost entered the realm of urban legend.

Our first version tells of a nameless foreigner who walked into an early KFC restaurant and bemoaned the fact that there are no turkeys in Japan. (In fact, there are also no ovens big enough to cook a turkey, but I guess she didn’t get that far in her thought process.) A shrewd store manager overheard her, and the concept of marketing fried chicken as a Christmas food was born.

The former CEO of KFC Japan and owner of the very first KFC franchise in the country, Takeshi Okawara, tells a different story.

Mr. Okawara says that it all started at the 1970 World’s Fair in Osaka, where test stores for a few American fast food chains were among the exhibits. One of these was Kentucky Fried Chicken, which proved to be wildly popular, selling thousands of meals every day. Mr. Okawara, then working for Nippon Paper Company, provided KFC with the needed packaging for these meals, so during the course of the fair, he became quite familiar with the store.

Mr. Okawara was deeply impressed with Colonel Sanders’ story of eventual success after a near life-time of business failures. He saw KFC as a way to attain the wealthy lifestyle for which he yearned, so he decided to open the first KFC store in Japan. This he did in Nagoya in 1970, and in spite of KFC’s popularity at the World Fair, his shop was a dismal failure.

“I was cooking chicken and waiting, waiting, waiting, but I couldn’t sell it,” said Mr. Okawara in a 2018 interview with Business Insider.

“First of all, all the signs were written in English. The roof was painted with red and white stripes. Actually, no one knew what I was selling. People would come in and ask, ‘Is this a barber?’ or ‘Is this store selling chocolates?’”

Sales were so bad that Mr. Okawara was reduced to sleeping in the back of the shop to save money. He lived off of the leftover chicken he cooked each day. But eating all that chicken gave him hope. He loved it. He believed he would one day succeed if he kept trying.

“One day I got a phone call from a [Catholic] sister at a kindergarten. She was holding a Christmas party for the kids, and they wanted a Santa to dance in front of the children.” Mr. Okawara had attended Jesuit schools, so he was among the relatively few Japanese who were familiar with Catholicism and Christmas traditions.

“I had no other choice. She was going to buy my chicken! So I put on a Santa costume, and I started dancing holding the barrel of chicken. ‘Kentucky Christmas! Kentucky Christmas! Happy happy!’ like that, I made up a song, dancing around. And the kids liked it!” remembered Mr. Okawara.

This led to the idea of marketing his fried chicken as a Christmas food, which, according to the KFC website, began in 1974. He put a Santa costume on the Colonel Sanders statue in front of the store and came up with the slogan, kurisumasu ni wa kentakkii, Kentucky for Christmas.

This brought a measure of success. But his real breakthrough came after an interview with the Japan national broadcasting station, NHK.

According to Mr. Okawara, he was asked, “You are selling so much chicken during Christmas. Is [eating chicken at Christmas] a common custom overseas?”

Knowing how cool and popular things Western were to the Japanese in those days, he couldn’t help himself. Mr. Okawara replied, “Yes.”

And the rest is history.

From that one struggling store in Nagoya in 1970, by the end of 2020 there were 1,138 KFC restaurants in Japan, where one regular Kentucky Christmas bucket is sold for ¥4,100 ($37). The bulk of KFC’s sales is in December — pre-ordered buckets for the 25th — which in 2020 accounted for 1/3 of their ¥114 billion ($1,010,838,000) yearly profit.

So, do I eat KFC for Christmas?

Our dear elderly friend has passed away, as has our custom of eating KFC on Christmas Eve.

Each year, I buy a whole chicken from a local shop that specializes in chicken sashimi — chicken that people eat raw. Yes, raw chicken is one of the delicacies to be enjoyed in Kagoshima. Because this chicken is intended to be eaten raw, it is extremely fresh.

On Christmas evening, my family dines on roast chicken, which, in spite of Mr. Okawara’s little white lie of desperation, is closer to the actual tradition in my home country of America.

Sources:

https://japan.kfc.co.jp/assets/articles/1846/files/269, https://jpnculture.net/christmas/, https://www.kfc.co.jp/lp/xmas2021/, https://global.kfc.com/stories/how-kentucky-for-christmas-began-in-japan/, Brought to you by… Business Insider podcast, https://www.bunka.go.jp/tokei_hakusho_shuppan/tokeichosa/shumu/index.html

The post The Japanese Phenomenon of Kentucky Fried Chicken for Christmas first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Blessings from the God of the New Year

Kagami-biraki refers to the Japanese practice of cracking open the hard, dried kagami mochi at the end of the New Year’s holidays, as well as the opening of sake barrels at celebratory events.

Kagami mochi, “Mirror rice cakes”

During Japan’s New Year’s holidays, people display half spheres of mochi, pounded rice cakes, called kagami mochi, “mirror rice cakes.” Two rounded cakes are placed on a wooden offering stand, a smaller cake stacked upon a larger, and topped with a daidai, Japanese bitter orange.

These may look like mere festive decorations, but they play an important role in New Year’s traditions. They are where the Toshi-kami, the God of the New Year, stays during his holiday visit. Kagami mochi also hold symbolic meaning.

Kagami means mirror. This name could have been given due to the shape of the mochi which resembles the round mirrors used for centuries in Japan, or it could be an allusion to Amaterasu’s mirror, one of Japan’s Three Imperial Treasures.

Mirrors are deeply significant in the Shinto religion. They reflect the spirit of Kami, the all-encompassing life force deity, and are often found in shrine sanctuaries.

On top of the “mirror mochi” is a daidai, bitter orange. Daidai is a homonym for “generations.” Much like the many symbolisms of New Year’s osechi-ryori foods, the daidai‘s use on the top of the kagami-mochi represents a prayer for the family’s continuance from generation to generation.

The visit of the Toshi-kami, the God of the New Year

The Toshi-kami is first welcomed into households through the kadomatsu, pine and bamboo decorations that adorn both sides of the front door. The Toshi-kami is not only the god who brings blessings and bountiful harvests in the new year, but he merges with the collective spirit of a household’s ancestors, the sorei, who visits the family at this time.

The period during which the Toshi-kami visits over the new year’s holidays is called Matsu no Uchi, 松の内, “within the pines.”

Burning the kadomatsu

At the end of the Matsu no Uchi, New Year’s decorations are burned, sending the Toshi-kami back to the realm of the spirits. 

After the Great Meireki Fire of 1657 that destroyed approximately 60% of Edo (now Tokyo), in addition to other fire preventative measures, the shogun shortened Matsu no Uchi so that the flammable pine decorations would be disposed of sooner. He declared that from henceforth, Matsu no Uchi would end on the seventh day of the first month.

Eating kagami-mochi

Shortly after the kadomatsu are burned, generally around January 11 depending on local customs, the now dried and cracked kagami-mochi is broken into pieces, added to soups or roasted, and eaten by family and friends. This custom is called kagami-biraki, 鏡開き, opening the rice cakes. 

By eating the mochi that has been home to the Toshi-kami, people are imbued with spiritual power and blessings for a safe, healthy year.

How the mochi is broken is important, though.

In the age of the samurai, from the 14th to the 19th centuries, it was considered an ill omen to cut the rice cake with a blade as it evoked the image of seppuku, the samurai’s noble suicide, so a wooden hammer was used to break the hard rice cakes.

This method of breaking the rice cakes continues to this day, although the word waru 割る, to split or break, is not used because it is felt to bode evil. Instead, the Japanese use the more positive word hiraku 開く, to open, considered a more auspicious description.

A WORD ABOUT JAPANESE: The verb hiraku takes the ending “i,” hiraki, when used in its noun form, and the first letter changes to “b,” biraki, when joined to another word. For more on the intricacies of the Japanese language, see my article, “Why is Learning Japanese So Hard?”

Another kagami-biraki

Since ancient times, sake has been offered to the kami, or deity, when performing Shinto rituals. Afterward, the attendees and the priest drink sake together and pray for the fulfillment of their prayers. 

This sharing of sake is another type of kagami-biraki. The round wooden lids of sake casks, called kagami 鏡, are cracked open, hiraki 開き, with a wooden mallet and their contents shared. In this case, kagami takes on the meaning of harmony, and hiraki, of prosperity.

The practice of kagami-biraki by opening sake casks has since spread and has become part of many celebrations that mark new beginnings, such as weddings, the start of the new season for martial arts studios or sports teams, and the official opening of new businesses.

A similar custom, kura-biraki 蔵開き, opening store rooms, started in ages past when feudal lords and merchants would celebrate the opening of their storage rooms for the new year, and share sake and rice cakes with their subordinates and customers. 

Kagami-biraki is a celebratory event, whether referring to the cracking open of the New Year’s kagami mochi and being imbued with the spirit of the Toshi-kami, or cracking the lid of a 72-liter sake cask and having a grand time drinking it with your community.

https://www.gekkeikan.co.jp/enjoy/qa/sake/sake06.html, https://www.jalan.net/news/article/500808/, The Essence of Shinto,* by Motohisa Yamakage

*affiliate link

The post Kagami-Biraki, Opening the Rice Cakes for a Prosperous and Healthy Year first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

A UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage

“We eat with our eyes”

Washoku, or Japanese cuisine, is famous the world over for its impeccable presentation and meticulous attention to detail. Japanese meals are beautiful, tasty, and healthful.

There is a Japanese expression, me de taberu, 目で食べる, “We eat with our eyes.” As you can imagine, this refers to the time we spend admiring the beauty of our meal before partaking. It is a crucial aspect of Washoku.

Another saying instructs us that each meal should include foods of five different colors, and every day one should eat 30 different types of food. One kaiseki, or formal course meal, has at least that many.

This positive outlook on food, trying to include many different types each day, is refreshingly different from guidelines we often hear that advise us to cut foods out of our diets.

This mentality surely plays a part in the vast variety, colorful bounty, and artistic presentation that make up a single Japanese meal.

Geography affects diet

Over 70% of Japan is covered by mountains, so anything like the vast farms and ranches of Europe and America would be unthinkable. Rice farming has been the nation’s livelihood since the wet field farming method was brought to Japan from Korea in the Yayoi period. (Depending on the area, the Yayoi period is considered to be from 900-400 BC until 300 AD.)

From that time, rice, or gohan, became the main component of the Japanese diet. Much like the word “bread” in English was used as a general term for food — “Give us this day our daily bread…” — even today gohan is used to mean both cooked rice and a meal.

Japan consists of over 14,000 islands, stretching from subarctic Hokkaido to subtropical Okinawa. Bountiful, varied, and seasonal supplies of fish, other sea creatures, and many types of seaweed play a supporting role in the traditional Japanese diet.

Due to the variety of ingredients available throughout the archipelago, each area has developed regional fare that varies according to what foods are in season. One stand-out dish is ramen, an import from China, of which each area boasts its unique version.

Each region also has its own local sake, fermented from rice and koji mold. In the southwest, shochu is distilled, most famously, from sweet potatoes, and in Okinawa, the 60–86 proof awamori is distilled from indica rice, imported from Thailand.

The concept of preparing meals from seasonal foods is deeply ingrained in the Japanese. It has long been believed that whatever foods are in season are what our bodies need to maintain health at that time. The huge Western-style supermarkets with produce shipped in from all over the world have not yet caught on here, at least not that I’ve seen.

Buddhism’s influence on Washoku

Buddhism was brought to Japan in the 6th century and initially spread among the aristocratic leaders of the Nara government. Because of the Buddhist belief in reincarnation, in 675 AD, Emperor Tenmu proclaimed a ban on eating mammals. No one wanted to inadvertently eat one of their ancestors!

Over 500 years later, Zen Buddhism began to spread among the samurai during the Kamakura era (1185–1333). Buddhist temples developed shojin-ryori, vegetarian cooking that uses various soy products such as tofu, natto, and yuba (the skin from gently boiled soymilk), wild and cultivated vegetables, and konnyaku  (a rubber-like food made from the corm of the konjac plant).

This vegetarian cooking style spread from Zen temples to the general public and became influential in the development of Washoku.

It was during this time that miso, developed as a luxury item during the Heian era (794-1185), became more common and was first used in soup.

Ichiju sansai — one soup, three sides

During the Muromachi era (1336-1573), farmers began making their own miso, used in soup, to flavor dishes, and as a preservative.

A new type of meal developed — rice, the basis of all meals, with one soup, three side dishes, and, sometimes, a small dish of pickles. This type of meal became the standard for traditional Washoku.

Today, children are served ichiju sansai for their school lunches, and many restaurants offer a “set menu” of ichiju sansai for lunch at affordable prices.

At the end of the Muromachi era, Portuguese missionaries brought fried food to Japan which developed into tempura. They also brought castella cakes and bread which both kept their Portuguese names, kasutera and pan.

Edo era specialization

During the 250 years of stability under the Tokugawa shogunate (1603-1867), there were no wars and no foreign incursions. Merchants and peasants grew in prosperity and culture flourished.

Sushi developed as street food in Edo (Tokyo), and specialized restaurants sprung up all across the booming city.

In spite of the ban on eating meat, there were Edo markets that sold the meat of boar, deer, bear, dog, fox, wolf, weasel, and otter. These foods were euphemistically referred to as medicine using plant names. Deer was momiji (maple tree) or kōyō, wild boar was peony, bear was cherry blossom, and chicken was kashiwa meaning oak. To this day, chicken is still called kashiwa in certain areas of the country.

For years, the wealthy Ii (pronounced ee) family of Hikone, in Shiga Prefecture, sent beef preserved in miso to the shogun as a winter gift.

Today, there are an estimated 60,000 restaurants in Tokyo, most of which are small and sell just one type of dish — fried pork cutlets, beef bowl, curry, etc. You generally won’t be able to get soba noodle dishes at a ramen shop, nor ramen at a soba/udon shop. They’re both noodle soups, but they are very different.

In 2023, of those 60,000 Tokyo restaurants, 183 were Michelin-starred, far more than any other city in the world.

The Meiji era brings big changes

In the 1850s, Japan’s doors were opened and Western influence flooded in. Part of that influence was the practice of eating meat. Government leaders felt that including meat in the Japanese diet would help the population to be stronger and more robust. The young Emperor Meiji led the way by publicly eating meat to celebrate the New Year in 1872.

Beef and pork, though, with their strong taste and smell were not eagerly received by the Japanese, so dishes were developed to mask the smell. One of these was a “medicinal dish” that developed into sukiyaki, a one-pot dish where thin slices of beef or pork are simmered with a mix of dashi broth, soy sauce, sake, and sugar. The slices of meat are dipped in a beaten raw egg before eating.

Another popular meat dish, curry, was imported during the early years of the Meiji government. The American Professor Clark, famed for his role in leading the Hokkaido Agricultural University, is credited with suggesting that potatoes — a new product of Hokkaido — be added to curry for extra nourishment during a rice shortage, and the custom continues to this day.

After Japan’s alliance with Britain in 1902, curry eating became widespread. Japanese sailors adopted the British sailors’ practice of eating curry while at sea, then brought the savory dish back home.

Umami

We’ve all heard the basic flavors of sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and umami. But where did umami come from?

In 1907, the Japanese scientist Ikeda Kikunae was enjoying a bowl of tofu boiled in kombu kelp broth. While savoring this savory dish, he became convinced that there must be a fifth basic flavor, and he set out to prove it. The next year, he isolated glutamate crystals, a common amino acid, and gave it the name Aji no Moto, 味の素, or the essence of flavor.

Umami is an integral part of Washoku. Dashi, the umami-rich stock made either from kombu kelp or katsuobushi, dried bonito flakes, is the basis of innumerable delicious Japanese dishes.

UNESCO describes its choice of Washoku as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by writing that “it is associated with an essential spirit of respect for nature that is closely related to the sustainable use of natural resources… The practice favors the consumption of various natural, locally sourced ingredients such as rice, fish, vegetables, and edible wild plants.” 

Is it any wonder that Washoku is one of the Five Things I Love About Japan?

The post Washoku—Wonderful and Beautiful Japanese Cuisine first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.