When we were in Japan we ate yuba served in several different forms: wet (barely formed), dry, rolled into tubes and seasoned, in soup, and as a wrapper. Yuba is the skin created when making tofu, similar to the way a skin forms on top of custard as it cools. The tofu maker skims the delicate sheets of tofu off the cooking liquid and often lets it dry, similar to pasta. It's much tastier than it sounds, and makes a great low-carb substitute for pasta or for wonton wrappers. I've only had it in the dry pasta-like form, tossed in the salads sold by Hodo Soy Beanery at our local farmers' market, so was pleased to sample more varieties by the masters of tofu, the Japanese. And, of course, I was inspired to use it in cooking. This is a simple, tasty dish, inspired by the spring asparagus in the markets right now.
Asparagus and mushroom rolls
Yuba sheets (sold by Hodo Soy Beanery at farmers markets in the Bay Area, and probably available at good Asian markets)
Shitake mushrooms, 2 cups chopped
Shallot
Clove garlic
1.5 tsp miso
Asparagus
Sauce:
3T soy or tamari
2T seasoned rice vinegar
1t Chinese or Japanese mustard
1t sesame oil
1. Snap off the bottoms of the asparagus. Blanch in salted water until they're crisp-tender, 3-4 minutes. Shock in cold water to stop the cooking, then set aside on a towel to dry.
2. Saute the mushrooms, shallot and garlic in a bit of olive or peanut oil. When the mushrooms are cooked, transfer to the food processor and add the miso. (Or, hand chop if you like.) Make a fine chop, not a paste, but spreadable. Taste for salt and pepper, and add just a touch if it needs it.
3. While the mushrooms are cooking, make the sauce. Taste and correct the balance of soy and vinegar, if needed. Pour into small serving bowls, one per person.
4. Cut the yuba sheets into squares about 4x4 inches.
5. Spread 1T of the mushroom mixture down one side of the yuba sheet. Place an asparagus spear on top of the mushrooms. It's okay if the ends hang over. Roll the yuba into a tube around the filling, just like rolling sushi or a burrito.
6. Heat just a bit of peanut or olive oil in a wide pan. Working in batches, brown the yuba rolls, about one minute per side, turning to cover the sides. Set on towels to catch any clinging oil.
7. Cut carefully into quarters (bite sized) and serve with the dipping sauce.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Notes from Japan
We spent ten days in Japan last month, splitting our time between Kumamoto and Kyoto. While in Kumamoto we were the guests of my colleagues at the university there, who hosted us at several fabulous kaiseki dinners. Kaiseki is a multi-course feast, perhaps a dozen courses, each tiny (just a few bites), beautifully presented and highlighting the particular ingredient. If you want a sense of what you get with a kaiseki dinner, check the web. Wikipedia's description is accurate but doesn't highlight how artful and elegant the meal is. The photos in this book offer a good sample, and Google has hundreds of images of kaiseki dinners.
We had two full kaiseki dinners, one in the traditional style and one in a nouveau Japanese style. (Interestingly, we had tables and chairs at the traditional restaurant, and sat seiza or cross-legged on the floor in the nouveau restaurant. A four hour meal is a lot of time to sit seiza on western knees, but fortunately I'd worn pants rather than a skirt so could switch to the agura pose traditionally used by men -- what we called Indian-style in grade school. Kaiseki is served slowly, one dish at a time, allowing diners to savor and appreciate the dishes, and to have lively dinner conversation. The beer, shochu and sake flowed freely which contributed to the conviviality as the evenings progressed. Our hosts arranged in advance to accommodate my vegetarianism, so while the others had fish and meat dishes, I was able to sample tofu presented in several ways, a variety of vegetables, shabu-shabu, and the traditional rice and soup to close the meal. Traditional foods like lotus root, pumpkin, tofu, yuba and radishes were accompanied by fresh and seasonal ingredients. The dishes were cooked in every way you could imagine: fried, simmered, sauteed, raw, pickled, with or without sauces or garnishes.
While in Kyoto, we had the chance to eat two tofu-based meals. You might think to yourself that it would be challenging to eat tofu served eight different ways in one sitting and enjoy every bit of it, but the Japanese are masters of tofu innovation. And, the tofu is fresh and delicious. Highlights included fresh tofu simmered at the table in a light broth, then dressed with tamari and ginger, and tofu made from sesame which was distinctive and tasty, like a cross between hummus and tofu. I've been trying to find the sesame tofu since we returned home.
We also ate a full vegan, tofu-based lunch at the Nanzen-ji monastery in Kyoto. The guidebooks say that Kyoto has more than one thousand temples and shrines, and it is indeed a culturally and historically rich city. The Nanzen-ji temple was built in the 13th century and is still active. The temple is famous for a massive brick aqueduct, built several hundred years ago to carry water to Kyoto, that crosses its grounds. It also features the Chosho-in, a traditional restaurant which has been serving vegetarian meals for 300 years. Lunch is simpler than a traditional dinner, a five course meal of tofu, vegetables and rice, prepared and served simply.
We had two full kaiseki dinners, one in the traditional style and one in a nouveau Japanese style. (Interestingly, we had tables and chairs at the traditional restaurant, and sat seiza or cross-legged on the floor in the nouveau restaurant. A four hour meal is a lot of time to sit seiza on western knees, but fortunately I'd worn pants rather than a skirt so could switch to the agura pose traditionally used by men -- what we called Indian-style in grade school. Kaiseki is served slowly, one dish at a time, allowing diners to savor and appreciate the dishes, and to have lively dinner conversation. The beer, shochu and sake flowed freely which contributed to the conviviality as the evenings progressed. Our hosts arranged in advance to accommodate my vegetarianism, so while the others had fish and meat dishes, I was able to sample tofu presented in several ways, a variety of vegetables, shabu-shabu, and the traditional rice and soup to close the meal. Traditional foods like lotus root, pumpkin, tofu, yuba and radishes were accompanied by fresh and seasonal ingredients. The dishes were cooked in every way you could imagine: fried, simmered, sauteed, raw, pickled, with or without sauces or garnishes.
While in Kyoto, we had the chance to eat two tofu-based meals. You might think to yourself that it would be challenging to eat tofu served eight different ways in one sitting and enjoy every bit of it, but the Japanese are masters of tofu innovation. And, the tofu is fresh and delicious. Highlights included fresh tofu simmered at the table in a light broth, then dressed with tamari and ginger, and tofu made from sesame which was distinctive and tasty, like a cross between hummus and tofu. I've been trying to find the sesame tofu since we returned home.
We also ate a full vegan, tofu-based lunch at the Nanzen-ji monastery in Kyoto. The guidebooks say that Kyoto has more than one thousand temples and shrines, and it is indeed a culturally and historically rich city. The Nanzen-ji temple was built in the 13th century and is still active. The temple is famous for a massive brick aqueduct, built several hundred years ago to carry water to Kyoto, that crosses its grounds. It also features the Chosho-in, a traditional restaurant which has been serving vegetarian meals for 300 years. Lunch is simpler than a traditional dinner, a five course meal of tofu, vegetables and rice, prepared and served simply.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Notes from Rome
The blog has been quiet for a while because we've been so busy with travel, life and work that it's been hard to find time to write. I've got some catching up to do.
We just spent ten days in Rome, sightseeing and eating. The food was uniformly good, and the farther we got from tourist places, the better it got. The Italians know how to cook pasta, and every plate we had, even from the cafeteria line at Ostia Antica, was perfectly al dente and dressed with a light, fresh sauce. Rome was a real carb-fest for me, but I found a few interesting departures from the standard primi. A few highlights:
- The most innovative menu we found was at Ditirambo, a block from Campo di Fiori. I love bitter greens but have never cooked with chicory. After tasting their chicory souffle with sun dried tomato relish, it's on the list for experimentation. They also had a zabaglione, flavored with a touch of marsala and served with filo crackers and strawberries that was a bit of heaven. that I don't usually like sweets very much, but I couldn't stop eating it.
- My newly discovered guilty pleasure is deep fried artichokes. The artichokes are halved and trimmed so the tough leaves, choke and thorns are removed, leaving the light green leaves, bottom and stem. Then, it's deep fried (no coating, just plain) and served with a touch of salt. The substantial part of the artichoke is cooked through and flavorful, and the outer leaves turn brown and crunchy, just like potato chips.
We also found a new wine that we absolutely loved, a Vie di Romans sauvignon blanc 2007. It's different from any other sauvignon blanc we've had. It's barreled in oak, and takes on a deep gold color and carmel flavor to complement the crisp fruit that is common to this grape. The wine is hearty, like a white burgundy, so stands up to strong food flavors. We picked up a few bottles to bring home and are trying to find it in the bay area, or find a similarly oaked sauvignon blanc.
We just spent ten days in Rome, sightseeing and eating. The food was uniformly good, and the farther we got from tourist places, the better it got. The Italians know how to cook pasta, and every plate we had, even from the cafeteria line at Ostia Antica, was perfectly al dente and dressed with a light, fresh sauce. Rome was a real carb-fest for me, but I found a few interesting departures from the standard primi. A few highlights:
- The most innovative menu we found was at Ditirambo, a block from Campo di Fiori. I love bitter greens but have never cooked with chicory. After tasting their chicory souffle with sun dried tomato relish, it's on the list for experimentation. They also had a zabaglione, flavored with a touch of marsala and served with filo crackers and strawberries that was a bit of heaven. that I don't usually like sweets very much, but I couldn't stop eating it.
- My newly discovered guilty pleasure is deep fried artichokes. The artichokes are halved and trimmed so the tough leaves, choke and thorns are removed, leaving the light green leaves, bottom and stem. Then, it's deep fried (no coating, just plain) and served with a touch of salt. The substantial part of the artichoke is cooked through and flavorful, and the outer leaves turn brown and crunchy, just like potato chips.
We also found a new wine that we absolutely loved, a Vie di Romans sauvignon blanc 2007. It's different from any other sauvignon blanc we've had. It's barreled in oak, and takes on a deep gold color and carmel flavor to complement the crisp fruit that is common to this grape. The wine is hearty, like a white burgundy, so stands up to strong food flavors. We picked up a few bottles to bring home and are trying to find it in the bay area, or find a similarly oaked sauvignon blanc.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Slow cookery
We bought a Cuisinart slow cooker a few weeks ago with the notion to make soups and stews. We already eat a lot of soup, but the hands-off aspect of the slow cooker is appealing for days when I don't have time to babysit the stove. It means that I can cook when it’s convenient, and have dinner ready when I want, no matter what else fills up the day. In the morning, I just chop some vegetables, toss in liquid and spices, and put the lid on, then come home sometime in the evening to find dinner ready. No need to worry about burning or boil overs while the pot is untended.
I haven’t made anything outside of the normal repertoire yet, just ratatouille, vegetable soup, and vegetable stew. Aaron’s made meat stew a few times as well, which he says are super-tender. It’s taken a bit of experimentation to get the liquid balance right because liquid doesn’t cook off like it does on the stove since the heat is so low. For example, I made ratatouille the other day using two eggplants, two red peppers, a big red onion, garlic and spices. I added a slug of red wine, about 1/2 a cup, and a can of tomatoes (not drained), then left it alone for 7 hours. It tasted terrific, with the vegetables getting very soft but holding their shape, and flavors bright but well melded. But, it was a little soupy. Half the juice from the can of tomatoes would have been plenty. As it was, though, it made a fine meal as a base for poached eggs and topped with parmesan.
On the converse side, Aaron made an absolutely delicious barley soup with chard, fennel and dill (Bon Appetit). The slow cooking allowed the barley to thicken the soup even more than normal, so it was almost risotto-like in its consistency. Again, it was a great meal, not quite what was intended, but a nice outcome all the same.
I haven’t made anything outside of the normal repertoire yet, just ratatouille, vegetable soup, and vegetable stew. Aaron’s made meat stew a few times as well, which he says are super-tender. It’s taken a bit of experimentation to get the liquid balance right because liquid doesn’t cook off like it does on the stove since the heat is so low. For example, I made ratatouille the other day using two eggplants, two red peppers, a big red onion, garlic and spices. I added a slug of red wine, about 1/2 a cup, and a can of tomatoes (not drained), then left it alone for 7 hours. It tasted terrific, with the vegetables getting very soft but holding their shape, and flavors bright but well melded. But, it was a little soupy. Half the juice from the can of tomatoes would have been plenty. As it was, though, it made a fine meal as a base for poached eggs and topped with parmesan.
On the converse side, Aaron made an absolutely delicious barley soup with chard, fennel and dill (Bon Appetit). The slow cooking allowed the barley to thicken the soup even more than normal, so it was almost risotto-like in its consistency. Again, it was a great meal, not quite what was intended, but a nice outcome all the same.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Winter soupe au pistou
The first time I had soupe au pistou was a few years ago, just after Aaron and I arrived in New York on a cold winter evening. After a seemingly endless travel day, with a flight from California and a traffic jam on the way into Manhattan from JFK, I was tired and edgy. A brisk, invigorating walk would have been just perfect to shake out the travel kinks, but this night was downright frigid. So cold, hungry and a bit cranky, we bundled in our coats and headed up Amsterdam in search of food. Several blocks later, we passed Nice Matin, a French restaurant we knew and liked; we beelined inside. Nice Matin was packed that night, but the host invited us to sit at the bar and have a glass of wine for 15 minutes while she found us a table. The glass of wine took care of the edginess, and before long we were tucked around a little table. The special that night was soupe au pistou, vegetable soup with a dollop of pesto on top, which was divine on this cold night.
There’s no strict recipe for soupe au pistou, at least as far as I know, but in my mind it always has little white beans and a mix of vegetables. Yesterday was cold and rainy, a perfect day for soup. I was looking in the freezer and ran across frozen pesto from the summer garden. Inspiration hit, and so I hunted through the cupboard to see what I could find.
Sometimes I figure out in advance what I’ll be cooking for the next while and shop appropriately, and sometimes I just use whatever is on hand and see what comes of it. Yesterday was a cupboard raiding day. We were out of dried white beans, but I found a bag of mixed beans, lentils and barley, like you would use in a 20-bean soup. Close enough. We had carrots, onions and celery, and also the last of the roasted tomatoes from summer in the freezer. I made this soup in the slow cooker, though it would have worked just as well on the stove, albeit with more attention paid. The beans kept their form, while onions and celery got super-soft, and the starch from the barley made the stock thicken. It was hearty and delicious, perfect for a gray day.
Yesterday’s recipe is here.
There’s no strict recipe for soupe au pistou, at least as far as I know, but in my mind it always has little white beans and a mix of vegetables. Yesterday was cold and rainy, a perfect day for soup. I was looking in the freezer and ran across frozen pesto from the summer garden. Inspiration hit, and so I hunted through the cupboard to see what I could find.
Sometimes I figure out in advance what I’ll be cooking for the next while and shop appropriately, and sometimes I just use whatever is on hand and see what comes of it. Yesterday was a cupboard raiding day. We were out of dried white beans, but I found a bag of mixed beans, lentils and barley, like you would use in a 20-bean soup. Close enough. We had carrots, onions and celery, and also the last of the roasted tomatoes from summer in the freezer. I made this soup in the slow cooker, though it would have worked just as well on the stove, albeit with more attention paid. The beans kept their form, while onions and celery got super-soft, and the starch from the barley made the stock thicken. It was hearty and delicious, perfect for a gray day.
Yesterday’s recipe is here.
Recipe: Winter Soupe au Pistou
This is a hearty vegetarian bean soup served with pesto:
1.5 cups mixed legumes (or just white beans)
1 large onion
3 stalks celery
2 large carrots
1 large tomato or 1/2 c roasted tomato or a handful of sundried tomatoes, or the equivalent
1 clove garlic
1.5 tsp. thyme
1.5 tsp. tarragon
2 bay leaves
4-6 cups vegetable stock
salt and pepper
Pesto - a rounded tablespoon per person.
The secret to removing the gas factor from beans is to boil them for a few (2-3) minutes, and then let the pot sit and cool for anything from 2-12 hours, as your schedule allows. Drain and rinse. The beans will still be uncooked.
Cut all the vegetables in a small dice, 1/4”
Put everything except the pesto, so all the beans, vegetables, spices, stock, in the slow cooker. Start with a teaspoon of salt and a grind of pepper. It will be underseasoned, but you’ll correct this at the end. It took 8 hours on high for the beans to cook through, or if you're cooking on the stove, it will take a few hours. I started with 4 cups stock, then added more midway to thin the soup. If you’re using beans alone (no barley), you may not need to do this.
When the beans are tender, taste and correct the salt and pepper. I added just a touch - about 1 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar at the end as well.
Serve each bowl of soup with a good dollop of pesto on top.
1.5 cups mixed legumes (or just white beans)
1 large onion
3 stalks celery
2 large carrots
1 large tomato or 1/2 c roasted tomato or a handful of sundried tomatoes, or the equivalent
1 clove garlic
1.5 tsp. thyme
1.5 tsp. tarragon
2 bay leaves
4-6 cups vegetable stock
salt and pepper
Pesto - a rounded tablespoon per person.
The secret to removing the gas factor from beans is to boil them for a few (2-3) minutes, and then let the pot sit and cool for anything from 2-12 hours, as your schedule allows. Drain and rinse. The beans will still be uncooked.
Cut all the vegetables in a small dice, 1/4”
Put everything except the pesto, so all the beans, vegetables, spices, stock, in the slow cooker. Start with a teaspoon of salt and a grind of pepper. It will be underseasoned, but you’ll correct this at the end. It took 8 hours on high for the beans to cook through, or if you're cooking on the stove, it will take a few hours. I started with 4 cups stock, then added more midway to thin the soup. If you’re using beans alone (no barley), you may not need to do this.
When the beans are tender, taste and correct the salt and pepper. I added just a touch - about 1 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar at the end as well.
Serve each bowl of soup with a good dollop of pesto on top.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Miso and vegetable soup
It was time to use up some of the bits of vegetables in the refrigerator (and a little chilly outside), so I made a semi-composed miso soup. We've had composed soups in restaurants a few times lately, and it makes a pretty presentation. Mine was more rustic, which is a nice way of saying that I just made little piles rather than working toward food art, but it was pretty nonetheless.
Aaron made and froze a batch of vegetable stock a few weeks ago that was particularly flavorful, and with a spoonful of dark miso, just a drizzle of tamari sauce, and slivered ginger, the broth was over the top. I sautéed (separately from each other) cubed sweet potato, mustard greens with garlic, mushrooms, and tofu with tamari and mirin. The base of the bowl had soy noodles, the sautéed vegetables added in little piles, and the broth was ladled over the top. A squirt of Sriracha in my bowl to gave it a little extra love, while Aaron opted for the more tame version.
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