Oshogatsu

This is New Year's Eve dinner at my in-laws' house in Osaka: me, my sister-in-law, her daughter and husband, and my parents-in-law (and of course that's Hideaki behind the camera). We go there every year to celebrate oshogatsu (the new year), and those celebrations mostly consist of eating. 

It all starts off with crab, a new tradition thanks to my brother-in-law. He lives in Hokkaido and is so busy that nobody has seen him in ages, but for the past few years he has been proving his existence by sending us fresh crab, which Hokkaido is known for. It seems to get better every year, and this time was the best yet with three types of crab: kegani (hairy crab), tarabagani (similar to king crab) and hanasakigani (literally "blooming flower crab", as its shape and colour is supposed to resemble a flower). They arrived already whole and already boiled (as is common in Japan, where most people don't have pots big enough to boil the larger ones) and sadly I didn't get a chance to take any pictures before they were cut up, but here is a picture of last year's kegani, and here are some pictures of hanasakigani (maybe you'll have better luck than me seeing the flower resemblance).

The kegani is the smallest and has the sweetest and most delicate flesh.

The hanasakigani's legs and claws were huge and extremely hard to eat, thanks to the giant spikes and very thick shell. The flesh richly flavourful with a firm, almost meat-like texture, and was the most similar to the crab I remember from Canada.

The tarabagani, claw shown on top, was kind of half-way between the two in terms of both taste and texture. I think I liked it best overall, but they were all fantastic.

It's not just the legs that are eaten in Japan: the body is served as well, in order to scoop out the kanimiso. Kanimiso is often incorrectly translated as "crab brains", perhaps because that's what most Japanese think it is (miso is a common euphemism for brains). Well, I've always wondered why there is so much miso in each crab considering their level of intelligence (they walked right into the traps, after all), and it turns out that the miso is actually the liver and other internal organs, and their actual brains are as tiny as you'd expect.

Not that guts are any less gross than brains to the squeamish among you, but the seafood lovers and offal fans out there will surely believe me when I say that it kanimiso one of the finest delicacies in the world. It's extremely rich and sweet and has a creamy texture, like the foie gras of the sea. And each type of crab has a different flavour: this time we found the kegani was the lightest and creamiest, with the hanasakigani being rather strongly flavoured, and the tarabagani being rich and flavourful. This is not something you can eat a lot of, so after a few spoonfuls we were done.

But the fun wasn't over, as my niece Marya discovered that crab claws fit nicely on fingertips. She found it hilarious to hold out her claw-hands menacingly and chase us around, and if only she could have held still for a second or two I could have gotten some very cute pictures.

There was also sasazushi: a traditional type of sushi wrapped in sasa bamboo leaves, which have antibacterial properties said to help keep the sushi fresh. There was ebi (shrimp), tai (bream) and sake (salmon), and I normally would have been a bit more excited about it all, but this stuff just couldn't compete with the crab. I only tried the salmon, which was good, but it wasn't, you know, crab. 

Later on, when we'd had a bit of time to digest, the final meal of the year was served: toshikoshi soba. Literally "year crossing noodles", eating these buckwheat noodles will ensure a life as long as the noodles themselves. There is no particularly traditional type of soba or way of serving toshikoshi soba (although some people buy special extra-long soba noodles, to increase their luck), and at this house we usually get nishin soba, is a bowll of soba in hot broth, topped with migakinishin (dried herring). Nishin soba is popular in Kyoto, which is landlocked and traditionally could only get sea fish in dried form; nishin came from Hokkaido, which Kyoto enjoyed a thriving trade with, via the Sea of Japan. Interestingly Hokkaido also produces a lot of kombu (kelp, used for making stock), and this helps explain why the cuisine of Kyoto and surrounding areas is lighter than that of eastern Japan: kombu was more readily available there than the richly flavoured katsuobushi (dried bonito) used for stock in Tokyo and the rest of Japan. Anyway, as Osaka is next to Kyoto a lot of the food is similar, and the herring on the soba, as well as the light flavour and colour of the broth, show Kyoto's influence very well. 

Shortly before midnight the TV comes on, as NHK (the national broadcaster) features beautiful live footage of temples and shrines all over Japan. Just as the New Year begins, the temples begin joya no kane (ringing of the temple bells), with the giant bells being struck 108 times, so as to cleanse away the 108 earthly desires built up over the previous year. We also open a bottle of sparkling wine, which is not traditional  but brings a bit of fun to an otherwise rather somber occasion.

The next morning is when the celebrations really get underway, with a breakfast of osechiryouri (traditional New Year's food, also called osechi). Usually consisting of dozens of little morsels beautifully arranged in a fancy three-layered box, the osechi at my in-laws is a little bit unorthodox: just a select few osechi favourites, served rather casually in the lazy suzan shown above. I think this makes sense: rather than fussing over a whole bunch of food nobody really likes (and osechi is almost universally detested in Japan), it's a simple display consisting of just the osechi the family actually likes.

So why is osechi hated so much? It was originally prepared over the last days of the year, the idea being that having food already cooked will give the women of the house a break during the first few days of the New Year. But in order to last several days without refrigeration (as there were no fridges way back when this tradition started) the food needs to be well-cooked and heavily seasoned. Which meant that for three days people ate a lot of very sweet and very salty food, with little to no fresh produce. Also, the food served must be auspicious, with its appearance or name symbolizing a number of wishes for the New Year; thus the food is chosen not for how good it tastes, but how much luck it will bring to thediner. Finally, diners are encouraged to eat a bite of every food, in order to bring good luck, and no exception is made for picky eaters. 

Why this tradition continues virtually unchanged despite the invention of the refrigerator is beyond me, but I'm glad I didn't marry into a traditional family. Most of the osechi I can tolerate, and some I really like and would eat all year around if I could.

Here is the osechi we ate:

Kamaboko, a steamed fish paste eaten for its colour. The combination of red and white (yes, pink is considered red) is auspicious, going back to the ancient Shinto practice of offering red and white rice to the gods. Alternate layers of red and white are especially lucky (think of the old rising sun flag of Japan) so the kamaboko is always arranged as above. Kamaboko is nearly always store-bought, as it is difficult to make at home.

Gomame, also called tazukuri, is abig family favourite, made baby sardines cooked in sugar and soy sauce until crisp. Traditionally baby sardines were used as both food and fertilizer, eating it at New Year's was thought to bring a good harvest. This was home-made, and seems to be one of the easiest osechi dishes to make.

Kobumaki, or kelp rolls, involves a play on words: kobu (a variation of kombu) means both "kelp" and "joy". The filling is most often sake (salmon), nishin (herring) and anago (sea eel), and the rolls are tied with kampyo (dried gourd). We eat all three types, starting with salmon, shown above, on the first morning. These are store-bought.

Kazunoko (herring roe) can be served by itself or mixed with thin strips of carrot, dried squid and kombu to make matsumaezuke, shown above. The hundreds of tiny eggs in kazunoko represent fertility and prosperity, and it is one of the most popular osechi in Japan--I doubt there's a household in the country that doesn't serve kazunoko or matsumaezuke. This dish was home-made, and in fact my husband remembers eating matsumaezuke year-round when he was little, and it remains a big favourite of his. Unfortunately kazunoko is one of the few foods I hate, so I just eat around it and gave the yucky chunks of roe to Hideaki, who is happy to help.

The origin of datemaki (a thick omelet-like roll made of eggs and fish paste) is unclear, but one common idea is that the shape resembles rolled scrolls and thus symbolizes wisdom and knowledge. This is storebought.

Kurikinton, one of the family's beloved osechi, is made of finely mashed satsuma-imo (sweet potato) and kuri (chestnuts). The colour is thought to resemble gold, so kurikinton represents wealth. This is another one I don't like, which is odd because I actually love sweet potatoes and chestnuts. But I can't stand the mushy, textureless consistency of the sweet potato and so much sugar is added that my teeth hurt just looking at it. I usually just grab a very small chunk of chestnut and try to scrape as much sweet potato off as I can. This one is home-made, usually with the help of whichever man is around, as mashing the sweet potato through a fine strainer takes quite a bit of muscle.

Kuromame are black beans simmered in soy sauce, eaten for a double play on words: mame means "bean" as well as "health" and "diligence". These are homemade. 

Shiromame (white beans), eaten for the same reasons as kuromame. These are very sweet, so I'm not a big fan.

And now for my favourite: tainoko (sea bream roe). This is a regional osechi: eaten in the parts of western Japan that border the Inner Sea, where sea bream is bountiful, and unheard of in the rest of the country. The roe is simmered in sake and soy sauce and has a rich flavour and wonderful soft yet slightly crunchy texture, similar to tarako (cod roe). This is homemade. 

I may skimp on the osechi I don't like, but I more than make up for it with tainoko. I wish it was available in Tokyo because I could easily eat it every day.

Here is my first serving of sechi. The chopsticks are brand-new and come in a special New Year's wrapper, which is traditional (people also often wear brand-new clothes on this day). The ochoko (tiny sake cup) contains otoso, a spiced and sweetened sake that is said to ensure good health in the New Year. Indeed it tastes rather medicinal, and is often cough syrup sweet, but this year both the sugar and spice were toned down and I rather enjoyed it. I find it similar (in concept more than flavour) to the mulled wine drunk by Europeans at Christmas.

My next serving is above (the servings after that consisted entirely of tainoko).

When the osechi is done it's time for ozoni, a soup containing mochi (pounded rice cake) and other ingredients. The recipe for ozoni varies tremendously from region to region and family to family, but my mother-in-law's is a clear chicken broth with hakusai (Chinese cabbage), mitsuba (trefoil), chicken, naruto (fish paste) and a square piece of mochi. It's actually an Eastern Japan style of ozoni, albeit with a lighter broth.

Mochi is a major part of New Year eating, showing up not only in ozoni but in snacks throughout the day. This mochi was made by my sister-in-law's husband's family in Chiba, and like all home-made mochi it's far superior to the plastic-like variety sold in supermarkets and thus is hard not to overeat. In fact, most Japanese people do gain weight over the holidays and the blame lies on squarely on mochi, which is surprisingly high in calories (another problem with mochi is its extremely dense and sticky texture, and choking deaths that result are reported in the news in a grim sort of holiday tradition). Other than ozoni, mochi can be served in a number of ways, both sweet and savoury; my favourite is isobe-yaki (grilled, dipped in soy sauce and wrapped with nori seaweed). Above is a special version, dipped in shichimi-joyu (soy sauce with seven-spice mix).

To take a break from eating there are a number of traditional games to play, and in this family the game of choice is hanafuda. There are dozens of variations of the game, all with rules too long and complicated for me to explain here, so I'll just show you the pretty cards.

Hanafuda is most often a gambling game, but instead of cash we use sweets. This year's prize lot consisted of chocolates (a gift from my family to the in-laws--thanks Mom!) and cookies (received by the in-laws as an oseibo year-end gift: thanks strangers!). I'm not a great hanafuda player but I'm not bad, either, and I ate enough of these treats that I won't be able to blame this year's weight gain on mochi.

This is our first dinner of the year (yup, I'm still on January 1st). The food served is still osechi, but it's mostly the more substantial, savoury dishes.

The main event is yakitai (salt-grilled sea bream), which is bought already cooked (all other dinner food is homemade). The sea bream, caught wild in the Inner Sea, is better than anything we can get in Tokyo, although this year we found that it was overly salty. Tai is eaten because of a play on words: it sounds like the last part of medetai (which means a happy event or celebration).

This is one of my favourite osechi (actually, all the dishes served for the first dinner are my favourites), called chuuka sarada. It means "Chinese style salad", although it doesn't strike me as either Chinese or salad-like: it is a stir-fry of shiitake, carrot, renkon (lotus root), gobo (burdock root) and shirataki (yam jelly noodles), very lightly flavoured with soy sauce, rice vinegar and sesame oil. 

I have no idea what the proper name of this dish is, we always just call it tori (chicken). It's not terribly attractive to start with, and this picture certainly doesn't do it any justice, but it tastes amazing. It's chicken thighs (and possibly other dark meat) slowly braised in a rich broth of... I have no idea. There's probably soy sauce, black pepper, star anise, negi (long onions), ginger, sake and vinegar, but from there I'm really not sure. The bones are removed before serving but the abundant jelly is kept, and the flesh is so soft and delicious it's hard to stop eating. I'm going to have to watch my mother-in-law make this one of these years, because I really want to know how to make this myself.

This is nishime, a simmered vegetable dish. Pretty much every family serves this (or a similar simmered dish called chikuzen-ni), and although the ingredients may vary there is usually kuwai (arrowroot, a relative of water chestnuts), which is that potato-like thing on the right with the long sprout. In Japanese, the sprout is called me, which brings two puns: medetai (celebration) and me ga deru (bring good luck). The other vegetables are carrot, shiitake, renkon (lotus root), takenoko (bamboo shoots), daikon, konnyaku (yam jelly), and thin strips of beef. I usually eat bowls and bowls of this, but this year my niece gave me a bit of competition, going through several bowls herself in a very systematic way: picking out and eating all the daikon, then the carrot, and then, somewhat reluctantly, the rest of the ingredients.

And finally, kani sarada (crab salad). This is normally made with canned crab, but this time leftover meat from last night's crab was used. We alsways jump on this, as we're thrilled to see fresh vegetables.

The next morning brought more osechi, this time with a different brand of datemaki (it was firmer and less sweet than the previous day's, and I liked it better) and new kind of kobumaki (stuffed with herring).

This is namasu, a refreshing and crunchy dish of carrot and daikon dressed with vinegar. It's a very welcome addition to the New Year's table, which seriously lacks vegetables--especially the fresh, crisp kind. This is another osechi that gets its good luck from its red and white colour (yup, orange was considered a shade of red).

The broth for the second day's ozoni is always made from the previous night's yakitai, and this year there was enough broth leftover to make zosui for lunch. Zosui is rice soup, most often made from simmering pre-cooked rice with some kind of leftover broth. Here it is flavoured with hakusai (Chinese cabbage), mitsuba (trefoil) and nori seaweed.

This year both Hideaki and I were suffering from colds and required a lot of rest. When he fell asleep on the living room sofa (usually because he was too full to make the trip upstairs to the guestroom) I'd tuck him into a blanket to keep him warm, which caught the attention of Marya, who would insist on either helping me tuck (she'd even say "tuck, tuck, tuck" while she did it) or being tucked in herself. She's not actually asleep in the picture above, just pretending in hopes that she'll get tucked in.

New Year's is a time to meet old friends though, so he couldn't stay on the sofa for the whole visit (as much as he would have liked to). On the second night of the year we went to a shinnenkai (New Year party) at the home of a high school friend of his. The good eating continued, with kaninabe (crab hot pot) featuring yet another type of crab (zuwaigani, or queen crab) and this lovely cake for dessert.

On the third day the osechi continued, although lunch was completely non-osechi: a bowl of ochazuke (rice with hot green tea). This is a somewhat fancy version, with genmaicha (green tea with puffed brown rice) and four types of tsukudani (seafood simmered in soy sauce): kombu (kelp), chirimen-jako (tiny dried fish), mekabu seaweed, and hotate (scallops).

Dinner that night was at Meishan Kajousai, a Chinese restaurant in nearby Senri Chuo. Ownded by Ume no Hana, a chain of tofu restuarants, we've really enjoyed it on past visits but were disappointed this time. Still, a few dishes stood out, like the extra-crisp harumaki (spring rolls) and daikonmochi (radish cakes) above. Apologies for the small pictures, I forgot my camera and had to use my phone.

The mabodofu (tofu with spicy meat sauce) was served with two styles in the same pot: the regular spicy version on the right, and a creamy white version, made with soy milk, on the left. 

The fried fish with sweet and sour sauce was also very good.

As usual, Marya entertained us between courses.

Our last treat in Osaka was dessert from a local cake shop. Above is a rolled cake with a cute cowhide pattern in honour of the Year of the Cow. Apparently this was very good, although I didn't try it.

I'm not much of a cake eater and am rather picky about other desserts, so my in-laws, who buy cake at every opportunity, always go to great lengths to find something they think I'll like. It's totally unnecessary, since I'd be perfectly happy with one of the dozens of sweet treats already in the house: piles of clementines, ice cream (there are always a minimum of three flavours of Hageen Dazs in the freezer, along with a few other kinds), and boxes of cookies and other sweets sent as oseibo gifts or brought as souvenirs by visitors. So the fuss is really uncalled for and I usually feel bad that my pickiness causes so much trouble. But this time I was glad for it, because this is what was chosen for me: 

The fanciest chocolate tart I've ever seen. There are so many things happening here that I wasn't sure where to start, but I finally did (the macaron went first) and holy cow was it ever good (except for the whipped cream between the tart and fruit and on top, which I gave to Hideaki). The tart itself was excellent and would have been enough, but the fruit and macaron on top were wonderful finishing touches, a very fitting way to end the holiday excess (for anyone in northern Osaka, both the cake and tart came from Ichirin Coffee in Minoh).

JapanSoc it!

Comments

[okihwn]

One of your best posts!

[kat]

I'm hoping to check out that cake shop soon!! Happy 2009!

[David]

Oh my goodness. I had to read this post while eating cold udon noodles. So much to say. Starting with omedetou! Which I think is related to omedetai.

1. Kani miso. This stuff really is like foie gras. The first time I had it, the menu description was a little lacking. I asked the waitress what it was, and she didn't want to say. Eventually, she quietly said "crab guts" which I think is pretty apt. It doesn't imply brains - which it isn't but it does taste good. A sushi chef friend of mine put it on his menu, but nobody ordered it, so he had to eat it by the spoonful. He didn't mind.

2. That chicken dish. I know it. It's one of my favourites, but Aiko makes it with the thigh bones still in. We don't really have a name for it either, so I call it Vinegar Chickin.

3. I don't like herring roe either. It's too rubbery. I've never had homemade mochi, but I know all about the choking hazard. See Juzo Itami's "Tampopo".

4. I think I've had kuromame before, but that's one of only a few osechi that we have because Aiko is one of those people who doesn't like osechi. Happy Year of the Bull!

[illahee]

now that's one fine oshogatsu!!

happy new year! my MIL usually makes all the osechi herself, the only store-bought stuff was usually year-end gifts (like ham, yum!) but this year they ordered osechi. *sigh* i think her health is not the best, and this year's oshogatsu was very relaxed, but i have to say the ordered stuff wasn't as good as her cooking. and in the past, the osechi was gone in a day. this year it took them nearly three to finish it off!

i've never had nishime. here we have chikuzen-ni which looks similar (but no kuwai). *sigh* so much good food in this post!!

[Tess]

oh my!
Such a lame comment, but this post is so interesting that I don't know what else to say!

[Ms J]

Amy,

Informative oshogatsu post, even for those who already live here in Japan! I had to laugh when you said that osechi is somewhat universally detested, for this is very true!

I decided to make some osechi stuff with my MIL for this year, but cheated and didn't use as much sugar/sweeteners as the recipes called for. No real differences to the recipes [datemaki, kurikinton] and no one suspected otherwise!! My SIL also pre-ordered some osechi from Natural Lawson, which wasn't too bad either without all the extra additives and muck. I've also been urged to incorporate some non-Japanese dishes on account of my foreigness which will hopefully become a new family tradition.

[zee]

Hi Amy,

Happy Year of The Bull ! I would really like to try the chicken dish. It looks so delicious. And also the chocolate berry cake.. Hmmm, I can almost taste it in my mouth just by reading your post. I must be day dreaming..

BTW, I'm Indonesian and live in Jakarta. I enjoy reading your blog and feel very honored that you said in your old post of how you like Indonesian food (Bali, that is) and even managed to cook it yourself albeit the difficulty in finding the herb and spices needed. You have to try other Indonesian food here (Sunda, Java, Batak, Manado, etc) if ever in the future you finally decided to continue your traveling journey you once started when you were younger.

[Aspasia]

Wow. That pretty much sums it up.

After I read your original post on macarons and how they suddenly seem crazy popular, I read somewhere else that Oprah featured them on her show last year. Mystery solved. They seem to be called macaroons here, though, which doesn't make sense to me as macaroons are an entirely different animal.

Happy new year!

[Carlyn]

Amy;
Everything looks so delicious and I am trying not to think of all the time and energy needed for the final result!!!!
My favorite is ozoni and missed it this year.
Happy New Year and thank you for your wonderful posts all year!!!!!!!

[Rickyjr]

Hello!

We've been checking out your blog for the past few months. Very nice! I have a similar experience as an American, married to a Japanese, living in Tokyo. We're in Los Angeles, now.

Would like to e-mail you, but can't seem to send a message. Sorry, it's probably our fault - new to blogging.

We would appreciate an e-mail contact for you. Many Thanks!

[Robin]

Everything looks so yummy! I look forward to Oshogatsu all year long. My mom is an excellent cook (she's and my step-dad have had a japanese restaurant for 25 years) so she tends to go all out for new years dinner. Although everything she makes is great, I'm always looking forward to the ozoni and kimpira gobo. I unfortunately am not such a great cook so I usually get the job title of "salad maker".
Totally off topic: Mom and I are going to be visiting Japan this spring to see the cherry blossoms in bloom. We'll be doing a lot of traveling, and one of the places we'll be visiting is Nikko. Have you visited this area? I've heard there are a lot of steps involved to reach the Shogun shrine. My mother has problemns with her knees and is worried about the trek up the steps. Do you know if it is a serious hike up the steps? Since you are quite the explorer I just thought you might have some knowledge about the area.
Toodles!

[Mari L'Esperance]

Love your Oshogatsu posts! Almost as good as being there myself, indulging in all that glorious, beautiful food. Happy Year of the Ox to you from Oakland, California! It's after midnight here and the neighborhood is alive with the sound of firecrackers!

[Melanie]

Wow! They really are some impressive meals! I am so jealous of the crab you ate. Years ago, my friend's mother went to Hokkaido and brought me back a crab. I still remember just how delicious it was (and how special I felt to receive it!).

We had osechi at a friend's place this year, but nothing like your husband's family has! Mind you, I think this family make a lot of exceptions for my picky western tastes. Hubby (also Aussie) happily tries everything though, so he's always very welcome in their house. My favourite are the black beans.

[Amy]

Thank you Okihwn!

Kat, I hope you like it.

Thanks David. Interesting that the same chicken dish turns up on your table! My MIL does cook it with the bones in (I think), but removes them before serving. The vinegar is extremely subtle and I don't know if that's a special variation or if she does it that way because Hideaki doesn't like sour food. Very glad to know it's a well-know dish though, maybe I can find a recipe.

Illahee, I've heard so many people say that ordered osechi isn't good, but that doesn't stop people from buying it! Somehow the few store-bought items my MIL serves are really good, I guess she chooses carefully.
Good point about the chikuzen-ni. I think a nimono is an essential part of osechi, but the name and recipe varies a bit. I didn't realize that kuwai is not standard though! Thanks for pointing that out, and I'll correct my post.

Tess, "Oh my" is what I thought on my first oshogatsu!

Ms J, that's awesome that you got to help cook (and tone down the seasonings)! And how fun to come up with some western osechi. Any idea what you'll do?

Thank you Zee. I would dearly love to try more Indonesian food and hope to travel there again someday.

[Amy]

Hi Aspasia! Very interesting about Oprah, but it probably only explains the macaron's recent mainstream US popularity. From what I can gather from the blogging world macarons have been big for a few years now in Europe, Asia and the online food world. I guess Oprah is like the Madonna of TV: she brings underground trends to the masses.

Thanks Carlyn, and I'm sorry you couldn't have your ozoni. It's not too late though, it's yummy any time of year!

Thanks Rickyjr. I think you can get my email address from my "About" page, but if that doesn't work try bluemoonovertokyo at gmail.com

Robin, your mom's New Year's feast sounds great! I haven't been to Nikko in over a decade, but I do remember those steps. Actually, lots and lots of temples have an intimidating number of steps but I do recall Nikko's as especially hard. Old folks in Japan are fairly used to steps and seem to get up without problem, but your mom will probably need to take her time.
If you're worried about her not making it up, could you change your plans? The temples in Nikko are magnificent, but Japan is full of magnificent temples. A trip to Kyoto (or even Kamakura) is a nice alternative.

Thanks Mari!

Thank you Melanie, Hokkaido crab is indeed delicious, and I really should feel special to get to eat it but I'm in danger of getting used to it...