Natto:Slimy yet satisfying

Apparently Timon and Pumba were onto something with there preference for foods with a slippery, sticky texture. But fear not: natto is NOT a grub! It's not even an insect; in fact, it's a fermented bean. Incidentally, it comes from the same bean as does tofu and soy, and it happens to be incredibly good for you. Rumor has it that eating it thrice a week for four months will make you begin aging backwards. Considering that natto one of the very few foods which contains Vitamin K2, which is said to protect bones and have cancer-fighting properties, such rumors just may be true. 

If you've never bought or prepared natto before, the whole process could be intimidating. Here's everything you need to know about it, in a nutshell.

First, nothing on the package will say "natto" in English. Here's what the package should look like (more or less) and what the Kanji should say:

This package should contain 2-3 styrofoam (I know, not exactly eco-friendly...but again, SO good for you!) boxes of natto. To prepare, open one of them. There will be two tiny bags, one containing light brown sauce and one containing mustard. Rip where indicated and drizzle entire contents over the natto.

Be sure to mix thoroughly and evenly....

Then eat together with some brown rice! 

 For most Americans, natto is not very palatable on its own.  My advise to you: forget anything everyone's ever told you about the foul smell (even Japanese people often refer to it as "stinky beans"), and start simple.You never know: you might wind up actually liking it. If this particular method is not your cup of tea, keep following this blog: there are many, many ways to enjoy this favorite superfood of mine. You will be sure to find one that works for you.

Authentic, home cooked Korean-Japanese fusion

The word "fusion" draws the ire of many a foodie who prefer authentic ethnic cuisine; however, my decision to pick up a nearly expired package of Korean mixed miso which had been marked down from $5.99 to $1.99 inspired just that. While buying anything a day before it's expiration date has always seemed sketchy to me, the reassurance of the guy at the Korean market which I frequent on a nearly daily basis put me at ease. My boyfriend reconfirmed its edibility when he arrived home later that night, and pledged that the next day he would prepare for me a version of Doenjang Jjigae with a Japanese twist.
Having spent a significant amount of time in Korea for business, my boyfriend knows a thing or two about Korean food. His tongue has an acute understanding of the type of spices they use, and he is able to replicate the flavor just as well as any Korean restaurant I've ever been to in NYC. For his special version, he combined the Korean miso with Japanese Aka, or red miso, and added a couple shakes of hondashi to create a delicious, deep broth. The bitterness of the Aka offset the spiciness of the Korean miso very nicely. After that, he added 3 cloves of garlic, about a quarter of a block of tofu (chopped), 3 chopped scallions, a few ebi (shrimp), and tilapia. To neutralize the fish smell, he also threw in some chopped celery. What's nice about the garlic is that it aids blood circulation, which is why my boyfriend uses a lot of it. Before I began eating his cooking, my hands would often become cold to the point my nail beds would take on a bluish hue; that never happens anymore. According to my boyfriend, Korea is a very cold country, which is why their food typically contains a good amount of garlic and spice.
While this Korean stew is tasty anytime, eating it on a chilly night in early fall will be sure to warm your bones and satisfy your palate!

Ramen: more than just cup noodles

Authentic Tonkotsu Ramen in NYC

Just as pizza came to America from Italy, the ramen noodle came to Japan from China. Rather than destroying their import the way Americans did to pizza (ie, Dominos ), however, the Japanese perfected it. If you've ever seen the film Tampopo, (a must see for any foodie), you know that doing so is a daunting task for any chef. The texture of the noodles, the tenderness of the meat, the depth of the broth...each component is a crucial element to this delicate everyday dish. And given the ramen craze that has swept NYC over the past few years, it seems like Americans have begun to get just how meticulous it is to prepare. The two hour wait at Ippudo and Totto Ramen are evidence. In Japan, however, there are just as many ramen stalls as there are pizzerias here, and the average patron would balk at paying upwards of $10 per bowl.  Perhaps this has to do with the fact that their instant ramen from Japan, if prepared correctly, can be incredibly delicious; the packaged ramen found on American supermarket shelves just doesn't compare.  I was lucky enough to discover this when my boyfriend and I received a box of Hakata ramen Daruma from a friend who was visiting from Japan. 

Hakata Ramen Daruma

Hakata is a type of ramen which hails from north Kyushu and uses broth extracted from tonkotsu, or pork bone. It has a creamy consistency and deep pork flavor as a result of boiling pork bones, fat, and collagen over high heat for many hours. The box of Daruma ramen claims that combining the ingredients within will result in an authentic, slow cooked flavor.  If you follow the instructions carefully, as we did, you will indeed have yourself some amazing ramen.

According to my fiancee, who shares the same birthplace as this type of ramen, "It tastes like Japan!" 

Our finished Hakata ramen, with pork and seaweed

The number one secret, which should be followed every time when preparing any type of ramen (including Nissin top ramen), is to boil the noodles separately from broth. The main reason for this is because when you cook the noodles, the preservatives from the package escape into the water. It's best not to combine this water with the broth. Also, don't overcook; al dente is best.  When the noodles are done, remove from the water, let cool for a few minutes, and add to broth. Add scallion, egg, seaweed, and/or very thinly sliced pork as desired.  

Next time, we added egg (tamago), cabbage, and scallion! 

Real NY Pizza, Nestled deep in the heart of Brooklyn

As far as most tourists are concerned, the only reason to sit on a Brooklyn-bound train for an hour plus is Coney Island. But true Brooklynites know that their borough is the place to go for New York's staple food: pizza. While NYC as a whole was once touted as having the best slice in the world outside of Italy, the innundation of amateurs opening pizzerias with names like Ben's or Ray's have marred the city's good reputation, making it nearly impossible to find an authentic spot for the everyday delicacy. For this reason, my boyfriend, a regular patron of the local one dollar pizzeria, was skeptical when I told him that I could show him a spot in Brooklyn that would make him love pizza. He became even more doubtful after telling his so called "New Yorker" friends  (i.e., people who have been living here for 10+ years) where he would be dining that evening and they responded with, "where?" Finally, two weeks ago, he agreed to take the plunge.

L& B Spumoni Garden's, which has been family owned for over 70 years, is located in the Gravesend section of Brooklyn, a few stops before Coney Island on the F train. The secret to their success is their sauce, which is why although every slice on the menu is delicious the Sicilian is an absolute must for first timers. While most pizzerias splatter a scant amount of sauce across the surface of the dough before layering on the cheese, L&B's does the opposite: after melting a thin layer of fresh mozzarella cheese onto the dough, they lather on their most delicious ingredient. The result is a rich tasting but not too doughy slice of perfection. Watching my boyfriend wolf down his first slice, who after his first bite exclaimed, "Finally: real pizza in New York!" I felt a sense of accomplishment. The painstaking process that once was that standard way of preparing a pie, the craftmanship that has become nearly obsolete thanks to the onslaught of wannabe dough spinners, had been vilified by a non-native New Yorker who had actually been to Italy.  In fact, he loved it so much that this past Sunday he insisted on bringing friends who were visiting from his hometown in Japan.  That time, we took our time and enjoyed some baked clams and calamari.

Final result:
What we're eating for
Sunday dinner from now on is settled.

Japanese style garlic onion steak

Americans may be referred to as being "red blooded", but the way we eat our meat often suggests otherwise. Think about any steakhouse you've ever been to. Chances are, if you're at a typical business dinner with a group of fellow Americans, at least one person will order their steak well done. The result is a blackened, dry slab of what resembles cracked leather that costs up to ten times more than a home-cooked version of the same cut. Most Japanese people are horrified by the thought of ingesting something that has been charred to the point where no flavor remains; in fact, the American version of rare is the standard hue for meat in Japan. Die hard meat lovers even enjoy beef sashimi from time to time, which is a half step up from completely raw. But for now, we'll stick to something more standard, with a dash of soy sauce for Japanese flair.

Garlic Onion Steak
(Total cooking time: appx 60 min; serves 2)
1/2 lb sirloin steak
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp soy sauce
1/2 onion (1/4 chopped, 1/4 ground)
1 tsp beer
6 garlic cloves
Black pepper

Place the chopped and ground onion in a pan deep enough for the steak to marinate. Mix in 2 tbsp olive oil, soy sauce, beer, and black pepper. Submerge steak, allowing it to marinate for 20 minutes on each side.

Coat a separate pan with olive oil and cook garlic cloves until slightly brown.Set aside in a separate bowl.

 Put steak in a large skillet and pour the onion marinade over it. Cook over high flame for no more than 3 minutes on each side. Serve with browned garlic on top and marinade as desired.

Eggs for Breakfast (or brunch, or dinner)

Eggs for breakfast seems like a pretty normal concept to most Americans; in fact, many cultures around the globe begin their day with the incredible edible. For this reason, tamagoyaki is a pretty good starter food for anyone who wants to expand his or her palate to include Japanese cuisine. Basically, it's an omelet with a twist. We begin with the below ingredients:

2 eggs 

1 tbsp hondashi

2tsp mirin

2 tbsp sugar

1-2tbsp Canola oil 

Stir eggs with teaspoon to guarantee uniformity. Add mirin, hondashi, and sugar.

Coat pan with canola oil and pour eggs.Bake until the bottom becomes firm, then with a spatula fold in the sides and flip. bake until slightly brown on the outside. 

 

Final result:

Japanese people typically eat it along side a bowl of miso soup in the morning or with a lunch or dinner of soba noodles, but feel free to enjoy with some buttered toast and even a couple strips of bacon. 

Have questions about the ingredients? Don't be shy....ask! Email for info about where to but/what the stuff looks like.

The "Seam" that binds

They're something infinitely gratifying about sharing something from one's own culture with someone from another, especially when it's something that one is passionate about to the point that they can make better recommendations than any tour guide. For some, it's music. For some, it's sports. For us, it was food. Food is one of those things which transcends language; everyone needs it, many people are fascinated by it, and it is best when enjoyed in good company.

My boyfriend hails from south Kyushu, Japan, and although he's been living here in New York for ten years he still defaults to the traditional cuisine of his home country. While oftentimes he is pleasantly shocked at how flavorful certain dishes from other cultures can be, including my own Italian/Latin/Greek influenced American style cooking, I must confess there is nothing I enjoy more than his cooking. Our exploration of each other's cultural delicacies and everyday nourishment is the "seam" that brought us together. Buon appetito and itadakimasu!