Blue Lotus

Ume jam

One more thing to do with ume (Japanese apricot): make jam.

 

This is it on toast (that's my usual peanut butter and banana toast on the left). No, I didn't make it--a student of mine did, with fruit from her own ume trees. It is deliciously sweet and sour with a lovely ume fragrance, and I don't think it's going to last very long. It is great plain on toast and I have a feeling it will also make a good sauce. Thanks Mrs. A!

She used ao-ume(green ume) for her jam but most recipes call for ripe yellow ume. And since there are still yellow ume left in the stores I might just have to make a batch for myself. If you'd like to give it a try as well, Obachan has some basic ume jam instructions in English here, and these two recipes, although in Japanese, have enough pictures to make them understandable.

The basic process is the same as any other jam, but before you begin you'll need to detoxify the ume: soak the fruit in salt water overnight (or a few hours if you're using yellow ume) and then boil in water, removing the scum that will form, drain, and repeat the boiling twice. The soaking and boiling is not necessary when using fruit leftover from making umeshu (ume liqueur). The pits can be removed after the boiling (the fruit will still be firm so you'll need to cut them out with a knife), or midway through the jam making process when the fruit will be soft enough to crush with a potato masher. The crushed fruit can then be pureed for a smooth jam, or left as-is for a chunky jam.

If I don't get around to making jam with fresh ume this season at least I know just what I'll be doing with the ume leftover from my umeshu next year.

Foraging in Tokyo

A few posts back I mentioned picking cherries while at a local park, and I thought I'd follow that up with some pictures from a more recent visit. (The park is actually two parks: Oizumi Chuo Koen in Tokyo and Wako Jurin Koen across the border in Saitama, so the title of this post is a bit misleading as not all of my foraging was actually within Tokyo's borders.)

This is a hebi ichigo (false strawberry), which looks like it would be delicious. The first time I found one here I assumed it would be similar to the wonderful wild strawberries we get at home, so it was a huge disappointment when I had a taste. Despite the colourful, juicy appearance, they dry and have virtually no flavour. Occasionally one will have a hint of sweetness, or a faint melony-cucumber flavour, but it's very subtle. They are fully edible, and don't actually taste bad, but would only be worth picking if you were starving. Still, I occasionally find myself popping one in my mouth, just because.

These are sakura no mi (wild cherries). They're ready when they're black and plump. Over-ripe cherries are slightly wrinkled and should be avoided: they're plenty sweet but likely to be chock full of bugs.

This is the queen of wild fruit, at least in my area: yama ichigo. Literally "mountain strawberry", these are actually a type of raspberry.

They are sweet and mild, and the seeds are lighter and softer than regular raspberries: they are pleasantly crunchy and do not get stuck in your teeth.

This is a yama ichigo flower, the centre of which will eventually turn into a berry. The plants are abundant at the park, but don't produce a lot of fruit--and what fruit they do produce is a bit hard to find, usually hidden under the leaves.

Unfortunately they prefer the same terrain as hebi ichigo produce fruit at roughly the same time. And because the berries look similar, at least from afar, they can be rather annoying to pick. Here are a few hints: up close, yama ichigo plants can be identified by the white flowers--hebi ichigo usually have smaller yellow flowers, and their flower season is long over when the berries ripen. The fruit of the yama ichigo is large and reddish orange, and usually grows off the ground, up to a height of about 40 cm, while hebi ichigo fruit is bright red, small and close to the ground.

These berries weren't very tasty.

Heehee, just kidding, but I did almost reach for one of these ladybugs. This particular tree, and this one only, was just covered with ladybugs--some brand-new and some still in the larval stage. They had an amazing variety of spot patterns and came in three different types: black with orange spots, black with white spots, and reddish-orange with black spots (the orange one at top right has just emerged and will shortly turn a bit darker). There are more varieties of ladybugs in Japan than this, but still the large variety of them on this one single tree was astonishing. I only wish I was able to get a picture with a bunch of them together, but they weren't very cooperative. So failing that this collage gives an idea of how heavily this tree was crawling with ladybugs.

This is what I came home with: a bag of sakura no mi, a bag of yama ichigo and kuwa no mi (mulberries), and a few sprigs each of ki no me (leaves of sansho, or Sichuan pepper) and yomogi (mugwort). There were a few more edible plants that I didn't pick: warabi (bracken fern), which was too mature, and tampopo (dandelion) which were too far out in the open (see warning below). And those are just the plants that I know and can identify. I wonder what other edible herbs and berries are out there?

Here's a better look. Clockwise from left: yama ichigo, sakura no mi, ki no me, hebi ichigo, kuwa no mi. I had originally planned to turn the berries into jam or liqueur but I ended up just eating them as-is. Hopefully the park will continue to produce berries for a few more weeks, and then I'll get to do something more exciting with them.

So if you live in Tokyo, don't assume that it's all a concrete jungle! Sakura no mi and kuwa no mi abound even in the city, and other edible treats may be lurking around as well. The next time you're at a park or even just walking through the streets, keep your eyes peeled. An easy way to find cherries and mulberries is by searching the ground for black splotches caused by fallen fruit: look up and you see fruit that is dark puple to black and looks like a berry, it probably is. One little bite will tell you if it's tasty or not.

* Caution: Poisonous berries are relatively rare and tend to look different from edible berries, so if you know what wild cherries, raspberries, mulberries etc. look like you'll be fine. Poisonous berries tend to be white, green or bright red and are bitter enough that you'll want to spit it out immediately. As far as I know there are no berries in Japan that can cause harm from just one taste.

A more practical warning is to steer clear of low-lying berries and herbs out in the open, especially in dog-intensive areas. I think you can guess why. Yama ichigo are safe as the stalks have thorns. And avoid berries that touch the ground, are mishapen and are discoloured as they are more likely to have extra protein, if you get my drift.

Sashimi

I'm not sure how a one-week holiday turned into a two-week absence from this blog. Maybe going on vacation disrupted the rhythm of my life and it's taking some time to get back into the swing of things. Maybe I'm suffering from a severe case of the blahs. Maybe my very mild but long-running cold is sapping all my extra energy. My best guess is a mixture of all three. But what I do know is that it's time to post something. So here we go: a recent late night snack:

Some sashimi I bought on my way home from an evening class last week (half-price due to the late hour). Clockwise from bottom left: kibinago (a small type of herring called banded blue-sprat); katsuo (skipjack tuna); aji tataki (chopped horse mackerel); and buri (yellowtail). The tsuma (garnishes) were all included with the sashimi: shredded daikon; shiso (perilla leaves); hojiso (stem of shiso buds); and grated ginger.

Sashimi is commonly sold in supermarkets here already cut up, with a few different kinds of fish packaged together complete with garnishes. I don't often buy sashimi that way, partly because my husband doesn't like it much, and partly because I can never find a selection that appeals to me (tuna and/or squid tend to be included in most assortments, and with supermarket-quality sashimi tuna and squid are really just filler). And maybe also because I do a lot of shopping at night and hours-old sashimi just seems like something to avoid.

But slap a half-price sticker on a lovely selection like that above and I'm sold! This was good stuff, with the quality of the garnishes a little better than the average selection. The kibinago was a bit on the bland side and could have been fresher: it really is best eaten perfectly fresh in early summer. But the buri was fantastic, still rich with fat despite its season being over.

Best of all, Hideaki wasn't in the mood for sashimi so I had it all to myself. It was a lot of fish but I could easily have eaten more: I can never tire of good sashimi. Years ago I failed at the South Beach Diet, but if ever I can afford to eat fish like this every day I think I'll have to give it another go.

Golden Week begins

Today was Showa no Hi, the birthday of the former emperor Showa (Hirohito's posthumous name). Why exactly we celebrate his birthday I'm not sure, but this was the first of four public holidays that make up Golden Week and I'm not about to complain.

Hideaki and I made a visit to Kichijoji to run some errands and while we were there had a quick lunch at a Chinese place called Kisshousaikan. We both had lunch specials, with me getting kurozu no subuta (sweet and sour pork with black vinegar) and my husband had pork stir-fried with matchstick potatoes. Both were excellent, and the potatoes were a surprise as I'd never had them cooked that way before, and had no idea what they were when I first tried them (I hadn't heard my husband's order), thinking maybe they were zasai pickles or bamboo shoots. They were soft and giving but had a slight bit of a firm crunch left: very nice. Both our lunches came with egg drop soup, zasai, salad, rice and annin-doufu (almond jelly) with mango sauce, all of which are surprisingly good, considering they are usually afterthoughts with this kind of set lunch.

On the way home we stopped at Planetes for a treat to bring home. My raspberry tart got banged up quite a bit on bumpy ride home but Hideaki's "chocolate royal", while arriving home a bit worse for the wear, stayed mostly intact. It contained three rich layers of chocolate, plus the chocolate fans and gold leaf on top: very decadent. My tart, while not much to look at, was super and had the perfect crust. Really, it's mostly the crusts that I buy tarts for--if they just sold empty crusts I'd buy them by the dozen. Not that I mind the filling though (and besides, if I only bought the crusts I'd miss out on the raspberries, and lord knows how hard they are to find in Tokyo).

So about this Golden Week. The holidays don't all run together, so unfortunate should like my husband are back to work tomorrow for three more days until the holidays resume, but a few lucky folks like myself have the whole week off. I'm headed tomorrow to the in-laws in Osaka, where I'll hopefully be able to keep you updated with a moblog post or two.

Wishing you all a week as golden as mine!

Kisshousaikan (Japanese link)
0422-41-0628
Uchida Building 3rd Floor, Kichijouji Minami-cho, Musashino-shi, Tokyo
Open daily 11:00 to midnight (last order 11:00)

Patisserie les Planetes (Japanese link)
03-5933-1233
5-8-20 Oizumigakuen-cho Nerima-ku Tokyo (Also outlets in Omiya and select Tokyo department stores)
Open 10:00 to 7:00, closed Wednesdays

Gyoza

Those of you outside of Japan might not know about the latest food scare here, but the news this week has been dominated by gyoza-- specifically, frozen, made-in-China gyoza contaminated with pesticides.

Gyoza are Japan's version of jiaozi (Chinese dumplings) and were extremely popular in Japan until the story broke last week. Now mass hysteria has taken over and people have been avoiding gyoza, and Chinese food in general, like the plague. Doesn't matter that the poison gyoza were traced to a single factory in China, or that a Japanese fact-finding mission failed to find any traces of the pesticide at the factory, or that Chinese farmers' overuse of pesticides, many of which are banned in Japan, has long been common knowledge. Suddenly all gyoza and Chinese food, no matter where it is made and with what ingredients, are bad. Gyoza sales at supermarkets and restaurants are way down, and Chinese restaurants are suffering.

Partly as a show of support, and partly because seeing all the gyoza in the news has induced a major gyoza craving, Hideaki and I ate at our favourite local Chinese restaurant on the weekend. On the way there we passed a gyoza restaurant which was completely empty and we were tempted to eat there instead out of pity, but as it's a chain shop and the Chinese restaurant is a mom-and-pop place we stuck with our plan. The normally packed little place had just one customer and one cook on duty-- the emptiest I've ever seen it. We started with a double order was gyoza, and boy were they good (so good we'd already eaten a couple before I remembered to take a picture). I wish I could eat here, and all the other empty Chinese restaurants, every day.

Don't get me wrong-- I have no intention of defending China. In fact I actively avoid buying many Chinese products due to concerns I have of the safety of the products themselves and as a kind of boycott against the country's lax safety controls. But I don't like how this issue, just one of many food scandals in recent years, has taken on an ugly anti-China tone.

On a positive note, people seem to be starting to question Japan's reliance on imported food, which is a really important issue that desperately needs to be addressed. But sadly there doesn't seem to be any discussion on the growing reliance on convenience foods. I've always admired the respect Japanese people have for food, with shopping for fresh food still a daily activity for many people and appreciation for seasonal food instilled from an early age. This is changing though, as evidenced by the increasing size of supermarket frozen food and prepared food sections, packed with ready-made food of all kinds. Most of the frozen food is okazu (side dishes) rather than the complete meals sold in the West, as no self-respecting Japanese home cook would serve a meal entirely consisting of frozen convenience food. More typically a single frozen okazu will round out an otherwise home-cooked meal; many working moms and busy housewives are apparently rely on this ready-made food.

I think something is very wrong here. As lifestyles are changing and more women joining the work force, it is understandable that fewer people are able to cook traditional home-cooked meals. But I find it sad that frozen prepared food, chock full of additives and made from who knows what, is seen as the solution. Why not work towards abandoning outdated concepts of what a woman's role is or what a proper meal should consist of?

As it is, women are still overwhelmingly responsible for all of a family's housework, including cooking, regardless or whether they work or not. Help from husbands and children quite rare, and serving take-out or delivery food is frowned upon. Yet there are countless rules for meal preparation which require a huge investment of time in the kitchen. Bento (boxed lunches) need to include a certain amount of food and a certain number of colours and cooking styles. The typical "simple" home-cooked meal is called ichiju-sansai, which means "one soup and three side dishes" (aside from rice and pickles). The meal should also reflect the season and contain a wide variety of ingredients, with each side dish incorporating a different cooking style (one steamed, one sauteed and one grilled, for example). Everything is served in separate tiny dishes, and the majority of homes have no dishwasher (other than the lady of the house, of course). No wonder people turn to frozen food to help shorten the time in the kitchen.

Serving simpler meals or demanding that their families help out would require guts, something that, I'm sorry to say, modern Japanese seem to lack. Frozen okazu are a far more attractive alternative, and it saddens me that this latest food scandal will do little to change that.

Kagami biraki

One of the many preparations for New Years in Japan is the displaying of kagami mochi, which was traditionally two round slabs of mochi (rice cake) placed on an altar. As homes grew warmer in Japan, the mochi tended to get moldy instead of drying out, and at the same time fewer and fewer people bother to make their own mochi. So now lots of people buy pre-formed kagami mochi conveniently encased in plastic. Kagami mochi is meant to sit on a wooden altar, be topped with a daidai (a small, sour member of the citrus family) and be strewn with a variety of auspicious decorations. These days most people make do with a regular old mikan (mandarin) and the plastic kagami mochi usually includes as few decorations and a cardboard altar. Our kagami mochi, shown above, is fairly typical (except that it's mixed up with Christmas decorations, which are normally taken down as soon as Christmas is over-- often on Christmas Day itself).

The kagami mochi is displayed until January 11th, which is the day for kagami biraki: the cutting of the mochi.  It is then eaten, often in oshiruko (a sweet soup made with adzuki beans). My boss, Mrs. K, makes excellent oshiruko and this year gave me  a little to take home, so after cutting up our mochi we had the oshiruko along with the isobe yaki (grilled mochi wrapped in a sheet of nori seaweed) I'd been planning.

Nothing is easier to make than isobe yaki. Just grill the mochi in the toaster oven (watch it carefully though, as it's liable to suddenly puff up and it will burn if you don't smoosh it back down) until soft all the way through, dip it in soy sauce, and lay it on a piece of nori. Mochi happens to go very nicely with cheese, so as a special treat add a slice of cheese to the mochi when it's almost finished cooking; as soon as it melts you can proceed.

Osechi

The first meal of the new year is osechi, traditional food that is eaten to ensure a good year. They are heavily seasoned in order to keep well, and are supposed to be eaten at every meal for the first three days in order to give the women of the house a break. My in-laws just eat it for breakfast and lunch, and don't bother with the elaborate layered boxes tightly packed with a myriad of colourful little morsels (these pictures will give you an idea of what typical osechi looks like). Osechi is widely hated in Japan, as the flavours are too sweet and heavy and eating it non stop for three days is tiresome. So my mother-in-law only serves the dishes that everyone likes, served in a lovely set of dishes atop a lazy suzan. And as she keeps most of the osechi in the refrigerator she uses a lighter hand with the seasonings.

This is kazunoko (herring roe), which symbolizes fertility and prosperity.

Kobumaki (kelp rolls) is eaten to bring happiness in the new year.

Datemaki (rolled omelet) resemble rolled scrolls so symbolize wisdom and academic success.

This is tainoko (sea bream roe) which I've never seen anywhere except my mother-in-law's table. It is eaten for the same reasons as kazunoko and is my favourite osechi.

Ozoni is a soup made with mochi (rice cake) and each region, or even each family has its own way to make it. My in-laws use a clear broth with vegetables and chicken, with the mochi cut in squares (most families in the Kansai area use round mochi).

We also eat kamaboko (steamed fish paste), gomame (tiny dried fish "caramelized" in sweet soy sauce), kuromame (simmered black beans), kuri kinton (chestnuts in sweet potato mash) and a few more kinds of sweet beans. I am not crazy about the sweeter forms of osechi and this year I was a very naughty girl and skipped them entirely (you are supposed to try a little of everything). But I'm pretty sure I ate enough overall to make up for it-- more than enough. Overindulgence in mochi, alcohol and other high-calorie treats causes almost everyone in Japan to begin the new year with a few kilograms of extra flesh, and I am no exception.

I think you can guess what my new year's resolution is.

Dinners on the first three nights involve a different kind of osechi: savoury foods with less sweetness and bolder flavours, all the better to match alcohol.

The first dinner is always yaki tai: grilled sea bream. It is bought already prepared (like most Japanese, my in-laws don't have an oven big enough to do the job) and is of a quality hard to find here in Tokyo, caught wild in the Seto Inland Sea. It is delicious and suitably festive, as it needs to be "carved" at the table by my father-in-law, just like roast turkeys and hams do in other parts of the world. Along with it are dishes of other wonderful treats like the uma-ni from the night before, tori no hakkakuni (chicken braised with star anise), and homemade kimchi. As I was sick and usually pretty tired by the evening I didn't take pictures this year, but here is a picture of last year's tai.

The next morning's ozoni is made not of chicken broth, but of broth made from the bones and leftover meat from the tai. The delicate, subtle flavour of the tai is balanced with a deep flavour from the charred skin and the resulting ozoni is a dish that I look forward to all year.

This time, perhaps because my appetite was a little less voracious than usual, there was plenty of broth leftover, and lots of tai meat from the night before. So it was used up at lunch as tai chazuke, a variation of ochazuke. Ochazuke is hot tea poured over rice, usually with with wasabi, umeboshi (pickled plum), flaked salmon or other flavourings. Tai chazuke replaces the tea with tai broth, creating a richer, more filling dish. To top it off, flakes of leftover tai meat and chopped mitsuba (trefoil) were added.

If I thought tai ozoni was the best New Year's dish, it was only because I'd never tried tai chazuke: I have a new favourite now. And I'm not going to wait all year to try it again, either. Despite Tokyo's inferior seafood, it shouldn't be too hard to create something similar at home. Can't wait.

Tai two ways

• Kabu no edamame-ae: simmered kabu (turnips) with shelled edamame and kabu greens
• Hijiki no itame-ni: braised hijiki seaweed with shiitake and carrots
• Tai-meshi: rice cooked with tai (sea bream)
• Tai no ushio-jiru: clear soup made from head and collar of tai, with shimeji mushrooms and mitsuba (trefoil)

Tai-meshi is a celebrated dish in Japan, usually made by placing a whole tai on top of rice and cooking them together. The bones are removed after it's cooked, and then the fish is mashed into the rice. It's something I've always wanted to try, but it would be hard to find a fish small enough to fit in my rice cooker or donabe (clay pot) so I've never attempted it. But as I discovered in this Obachan post, it can be done with pre-sliced tai as well.

The supermarket was selling tai no ara (the heads, collars and other throw-away bits) cheaply, so I picked some up to make the soup. It made a wonderful broth, which more than made up for the amount of work required to fish the paltry meat out of the head. If there had been leftovers it would have been heavenly poured over the tai-meshi, like a decadent ochazuke (hot tea poured over rice). Next time I'll make extra.   

Pomegranates

These lovely pomegranates, called zakuro in Japanese, were a gift from a student of mine. Many of my students have gardens with fruit trees and it's not uncommon for them to share their bounty with me and their fellow students. I've received persimmons, sudachi (a tiny lime-like citrus fruit), mandarins and various other types of orange, all of which are received gladly by everyone. But this is the first time a student has shared pomegranates, and somehow the other students seemed far less enthusiastic than I was. I think the pomegranate fad never made it to Japan, where they grow widely but are not well appreciated due to their tartness. In Japan, the sweeter the fruit the better, and with so many options people don't tend to bother with the sour stuff. I think the general consesus was that these zakuro would make lovely seasonal decorations but they weren't fit for eating. The lady who gave them away even seemed a bit apologetic, saying they were just going to be thrown out otherwise.

But I was just thrilled to be given these, and for free-- I'd have to pay at least $5 per piece (assuming I could even find them). Not only is it a delicious fruit, but it's incredibly beautiful. And I love the way it takes me back to my childhood: I have vivid memories of eating them when I was little, how I'd grow frustrated at all the work involved just to get a small amount of flesh, but never be able to stop myself. Strangely, it was one of the few exotic fruits (exotic by Canadian standards, anyway) I remember eating as a child-- I didn't taste mangoes, papaya, starfruit and the like until I was far older.

Japanese pomegranates seem to have browner skins and paler seeds than the ones I'm used to, and are a bit more sour than I remember. They take the same amount of work to eat though, and after eating half a pomegranate's seeds I realized I didn't have to patience to continue. So I made pomegranate juice.

This is what I got from one and a half pomegranates. The top is pink and foamy because my juicer is part of my Magic Bullet mixer and I can't get juice without a bit of whipping action. No mind, the foam was pretty and may even be normal for pomegranate juice for all I know. This was the first time I've had it fresh (and only the second time to have pomegranate juice at all-- like I said, the stuff never became trendy here).

It was terribly sour, but once I'd sweetened it a bit it was so so good. If I could drink this stuff every day I would be a happy girl (and healthy too? I have a vague idea that this stuff is good for you but don't know exactly how). Next year I think I'm going to offer my student cash for her whole crop...

Canada visit: last week

After my sister, niece and nephew flew back to Texas I had a last relaxing week at home. I finished up my shopping, thrilled to be able to find things in my size (and not so thrilled at the lack of variety available, with dozens of different shops selling exactly the same stuff). I ate well. And I took a few walks around the neighborhood, especially down to the creek.

The creek is surrounded by parkland and is full of flowers, birds, and bugs, like this tiny woolly aphid, which being just a few millimetres in size I originally mistook for a little fluff of cotton.

It is also full of fruit, like red raspberries, saskatoon berries and these black raspberries. The black raspberries were especially abundant, and since nobody else seems to know about them there were always plenty ready to be picked.

My brother did a few more excellent barbecue meals, like this roast. It was done on a spit (yup-- he actually has one of his grills set up with a rotisserie) with the juices falling into a pan of potatoes underneath. The meal started with a thick minestrone-like soup made by Sherry and a salad made by me-- pretty much the only "cooking" I did all month.

Greek food is a must on my visits home, since it hardly exists in Japan. This time my Mom took me out for lunch and I had dolmades, which are grape leaves stuffed with ground lamb and rice, served in a lemony cream sauce. This is what it looks like inside, and it tasted even better than it looks.

One busy evening we got take-out at the local grocery store: a whole roasted chicken, wings and potato wedges, served with wild rice mix and salad. I love the take-out available in Japan, but it's hard to beat a rotisserie chicken when it comes to both convenience and deliciousness.

My Dad took me out for Indian food, to a place that had been recommended to me by a very friendly taxi driver. He said it was cheap and good, but I wasn't prepared for just how cheap and how good it was. The place is called Village of India, and if you live in or near Brampton I highly recommend a visit (address is here-- be sure to watch the video of their commercial). We were halfway through our meal when we realized that the food was vegetarian, and we didn't miss the meat at all.

The desserts were a bit bewildering, since I know nothing about Indian sweets. But I did try a few and really liked this one, called gajar halva, made with cashews and carrots and flavoured with cardamom and lots of sugar. And my Dad loved his handful of fennel candy so much that I regret not going back and buying him some (the place also sells sweets and candies to go).

We also got take-out from a local Jamaican place. This is escovitch fish, a whole fried snapper with onions and a tangy sauce, served with rice and peas, cole slaw and fried plantain. We also got some patties and oxtail soup with spinners, which was fantastic.

On my last full day we celebrated my Dad's birthday. We began with a selection of his favourite stinky foods: cheese, olives, pickled herrings and pickled eggs. Then I taught him how to grill squid, something he loves but doesn't get to eat much of as my Mom doesn't like it at all.

This was followed by a salad, our first taste of the year of local corn, and a delicious stewy dish of clams, chorizo and tomatoes. Since I now know where to find chorizo in Tokyo, I'm looking forward to making this soon.

And then before I knew it, my trip was over. And the good eating stopped. I had requested low-calorie meals on both flights, and instead of the reasonable good food I'd had on the Tokyo to Toronto flight, this time I was served the exact same awful meal twice. Ugh. And when I got back home jet-lag, a cold and the heat all took away my appetite, an extremely rare occurrence. Not that I'm complaining-- after my trip back home I could stand to use a kilogram or three.

Canada visit: Niagara

When Julie, Aaron and Zoe headed back to Texas, we made a trip out of taking them to the airport. This made sense because rather than flying out from the nearby Toronto Pearson airport they used the Buffalo Niagara airport a few hours' drive away (a move that saved them quite a bit of money). And Niagara Falls is an attractive destination for certain members of my family, thanks to its casinos.

We didn't actually go to the falls this time ("I've already seen them" was Aaron's view), so the picture above is as close as we got. Instead my Mom and Julie went gambling and my Dad and the kids went swimming in the hotel pool (the best thing about the Niagara Hilton). And I, recovering from LASIK and not able to go in the water, relaxed in our room.

Flipping through the channels on TV, I came upon NHK (Japan's public broadcaster). It was near the end of my visit home and I had been feeling a bit homesick for Japan, so it was kind of a treat to hear Japanese. The show itself was less of a treat: their normally excellent cooking show featured sauteed pork with ice cream sauce.

Dad and the kids came back just in time for a little sumo wrestling, and after tiring of watching that (it doesn't take long) we went for a walk. These beetles were all over the place, and apparently it was mating season. After looking them up online, I discovered they were called Japanese beetles, which is odd because I've never seen them in Japan.

The view from our hotel wasn't great, with the Fallsview Casino blocking the falls. After coming home from dinner though, it was a bit spiffier.

And here's the early morning view, with the Skylon Tower.

After crossing to the American side on the way to the airport, we searched for a truckstop or roadside diner like the kind we used to eat at decades ago on our stateside road trips. But there were none to be found so instead we stopped at Denny's and I had the biggest breakfast I've had in ages (aside from the two eggs, two slices of bacon, two sausages, two pieces of toast and two orders of hash browns above, I also put a big dent in my Dad's stack of pancakes).

After saying good-bye to Julie and the kids we returned to Canada and did a quick tour of the Niagara Wine country and the quiant town of Niagara-on-the-Lake. We hit three wineries, tasting plenty of wines at each, and especially liked Pallatine Hills with its delicious Gewurztraminer icewine which I regret not buying a bottle of. My Dad did though, and if he is nice he will hold off on opening it until my next visit home...

Canada visit: third week

When we got back from Sauble Beach nobody was in a cooking mood, so we ate take-out from a fish and chips shop. The traditional cod has long been in short supply so we had halibut, haddock and polluck, and for chips we had both plain and poutine (fries covered with cheese curds and gravy, a Quebec specialty).

The next day my sister spent hours the kitchen making a huge batch of tomato sauce, which was put to use a few ways. First she made a wicked appetizer (it had a silly name that I can't recall now) with slices of goat cheese nestled in the sauce and baked. This is something I will definitely be recreating, and without worrying about goat cheese haters: the heat and sauce mellow the cheese out enough that anyone would love it.

Next, the sauce showed up on spaghetti. There are two versions, one with cream and one without, and they were both fantastic.

During my visit Sherry had her ice cream maker out often, usually to make strawberry sorbet. It was delicious plain, and even better topped with hand-picked berries. It made me seriously consider buying an ice cream maker, but the idea was rejected when I realized I'd need a bigger freezer (and for a bigger freezer I'd need a bigger kitchen, and for a bigger kitchen I'd need a bigger apartment, and for a bigger apartment I'd need to not live in Japan).

And here's something I'd really been waiting for: spinach-stuffed salmon. My Mom makes this with a classic recipe from the Provincial France book of the Time Life Foods of the World series (she has almost the complete collection), and it is just amazing. She had to go to a few places to find a suitable whole salmon, and the one she bought (at the local Asian market, after overcoming a bit of a language barrier) was so big it had to have its head and tail removed to fit in the roasting pan.

This is the best I've ever had it, with the salmon extra fresh and fatty. Served with the stuffing and a rich sauce made from the cooking juices, it only needed a few simple boiled vegetables on the side.

On the Canada Day weekend we threw a little party in the backyard, during which I had such a good time catching up with friends and family that I almost completely forgot to take pictures. This was the first time I met Maggie, the 17-month old daughter of an old friend, and I'm really regretting not getting a photo of her. Before the party I did manage to get a snap of the two berry flans my Mom made though.

I flew up to Ottawa for a short visit with Krista, a friend since kindergarten. At the time Canada was hosting the FIFA U-20 World Cup (for all you non-soccer fans, that's the world cup for the International Federation of Association Football's division for players under 20), and Krista had tickets to the Panama vs Argentina game. Not knowing much about soccer, and nothing at all about either team, it was a bit hard to follow, but it was fun to watch and interesting to see the fans get worked up. Argentina was so good, winning 6-0, that it was hard not to feel sorry for Panama.

Krista and her boyfriend Bruce made falafels, which was a huge treat. Once upon a time I practically lived off falafels, as they were pretty much the only vegetarian lunch option within walking distance from high school. Never having seen them in Japan, I'd almost forgotten about them, but now that I know they can be made at home I hope to be eating them regularly again soon (I even brought a box of falafel mix home to Japan). Again, I didn't get so many pictures from the trip, but this time I have an excuse: Krista kept making funny faces, making me laugh so hard I couldn't keep the camera still. This is the most normal one I got of her.

Back in Brampton I enjoyed this lovely dinner, featuring steak with fresh green peppercorn sauce. The peppercorns were new to me and really nice, and I'm wondering if I can get them in Japan.

Back home again, Julie, Zoe and I hopped on a train for a trip to Toronto. We started with a visit to the St. Lawrence Market, having a mandatory breakfast of delicious back bacon sandwiches and buying a bunch of olives and cheese.