Showing posts with label goya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goya. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Goya: Round II

So, Nat got a goya (bitter melon) from one of her co-workers on Friday. This meant I had to, once again, face off with the bitter menace. However, this time I was armed with the knowledge of true Japanese preparation methods. I had the upper hand! Last time, goya simply caught me off-guard. This time, I was ready.

The battle was epic. No one was spared. Not even the children. In the end, I stood victorious over a delicious (and only slightly bitter) bowl of goya champuru. I was pleased. Goya is reported to be highly nutritious, so being able to incorporate it into our diet and still enjoy it was a great success.

I'm sure you're now wondering what to do if you ever come across a goya. If you do happen to stumble upon a bitter melon (which would be quite impressive, for some areas of the United States) I advise that you never cook this for a guest on your first try. Since goya is so bitter, you may need practice with it before unleashing it on your friends in order to more fully understand the needs of the vegetable. Got that? Good. With that said, here's a recipe for two (adapted from an out-of-print, English-language magazine published in Kyoto):

Goya Champuru
(Note: This goes very well over Japanese steamed rice.)
Ingredients:
Goya (bitter melon)
1 - Cut the goya in half, lengthwise, and remove the inner pith and seeds with a spoon (or your fingers, like I do). Then, slice the halves into very, very thin half-moons. Rinse the slices in a bowl of salty water. Gently scrunch the goya to release some of the oils. Drain and repeat. You might even want to steam/boil the goya before adding it to this recipe.
Tofu 1 block - Place a paper towel on a flat dish or cutting board and place the tofu on top. Place another dish or cutting board on top of the tofu as a weight and set aside for 10 minutes. This will allow the tofu to drain. Once done, use your hands to crumble the tofu (do not cut it, since the texture is intended to be crumbly).
Onion 1/2 - Chop the onion up. The size of the pieces can be however you like, really. Just as long as you want to eat it in the end.
King Trumpet Mushrooms 3 or 4 - These might also be called Eryngii, Eringi or King Oyster Mushrooms. Slice these into sticks. If you wish to substitute other edible mushrooms, that should be fine.
Soy Sauce to taste
Mirin to taste - This is a sweet rice wine used solely for cooking. If you've managed to get your hands on a goya, you should be able to find this. Just talk to your grocer.
Katsuo
flakes - This is another thing that may be difficult to come by in some parts of the world. It's a mix of things, not the least of which are dried fish flakes. Very delicious, very important to this dish. If you've already got the goya and the mirin, you'll likely be able to get this too.
Eggs 2, scrambled
Cooking oil 1 Tbsp

Directions:
  1. Place a frying pan over high heat, add the cooking oil. Then add the crumbled tofu and onion. Fry the tofu. Fry the tofu until it starts turning brown. (This is what my recipe says. However this has never happened for me. Either my pan doesn't know how to brown tofu or I'm just impatient. At least fry the tofu until any leftover moisture is gone.) Turn the heat down to medium and continue frying the tofu until it is evenly brown.
  2. Add the goya and the mushrooms. Fry these FOREVER! The goya, in time, should turn translucent. The recipe I have warns that stirring the goya too aggressively may make the entire dish bitter. I never had a problem with this, but you may want to keep it in mind.
  3. After the goya has cooked for a little while, go ahead and season with soy sauce and mirin. you may be more liberal with the soy sauce, but be a bit conservative with the mirin as you want it to flavor the dish and not sweeten it. Also give a generous sprinkle of katsuo flakes.
  4. Once the goya appears to be cooked to a limp death, pour the egg over the mixture in the pan and stir quickly to get the egg cooked evenly. Immediately remove from heat and serve over freshly-steamed Japanese white rice. Mmmmmmm!


On that note, it appears that my entries are going to be primarily food-based. Hopefully, most people will be able to try these recipes at home (though the ingredients for this recipe might prove to be a scavenger hunt for some). If I feel ambitious enough, I might start taking pictures of food and ingredients as I prepare (also, we need new batteries for the camera...). I'm going to need a small clipboard next to the counter so I can take measurement notes while I'm cooking.

Also, use for mochi rice #56: Soup thickener - Since mochi rice has such a high starch content, it releases its starches into any soup you might be cooking and acts as a thickener. You only need a little bit of mochi rice for this to work. If you have a soup recipe that includes rice, I suggest using a 3/4 the amount of normal rice and use mochi rice for the remaining 1/4. Adding a tablespoon or two of mochi rice to a vegetable soup recipe can work too!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Dogs - They are here and they wear shoes.

So, while I watch obnoxious Japanese children's shows, I shall make my first post to our blog. I'm still learning about how to live in Japan and I probably won't know everything even after our first year is out, but it's been a month and we haven't starved, so I'd say we're doing good.

While I knew that Japan has a lot of exciting new vegetables and even meat options in their grocery stores, I completely forgot that several of our common vegetables might be more difficult to find. At least on a daily basis. Our closest grocery store is only a short walk away, which is nice. Sometimes they don't have potatoes, red onions or some other bit of produce, but the store stocks fresh food, daily and discounts most meats and vegetables after dinner time. Some foods last a bit longer, so they only buy a stock of them once or twice a week. It's a small grocery store, though. We live in a rural area, so it's understandable. Just inconvenient, sometimes.

All this to say that I've been trying to learn how to cook some of the local vegetables so that I can still cook dinner if I go to the grocery store and can't find what I'm looking for. So far, I've attempted gobō (Japanese burdock) and goya (bitter melon) with varying results. This is primarily due to my recipes telling me very little in the matter of preparing the vegetables.

Gobō looks like a two to four foot long, extra-skinny, white carrot. It is typically sold and stored caked in mud (to help preserve it). To prepare, one washes away the mud and scrapes the skin away with a knife. It is important to scrape, not peel, the skin, as the nutritional value of the gobō is very close to the underside of the skin. That and gobō is very skinny. Peeling the vegetable could very well leave you with nothing. The gobō must then be placed in lemon water, salt water or some other solution to keep it from oxidizing. Next, it is the parboiling. This is important, since gobō is a bit woody. After that, you can do whatever you want with the gobō, so long as it tastes right. The recipe we used involved balsamic vinegar (a harder to find vinegar around here, but not as impossible as red wine vinegar). It was a bit vague in telling me how much of the vinegar went in and whether it was supposed to be a side dish or the main course (not as much as I put in, and not the main course). It was good, but next time I'll use it as a side dish and be slightly more conservative with the vinegar.

Goya looks, upon first glance, like a warty cucumber. It is regaled by the Japanese as being extremely healthy...and extremely bitter. It is sold when it is fully grown, but has yet to change color to be a ripe, bright orange. If you tried to eat it when it turned orange, no amount of cooking would remove the bitterness. We were given one of these by a woman whose husband grows them in his garden. We hadn't figured out what to do with it and it ended up rotting just as I found a recipe...so I went out to buy a new one so that we could at least say we tried a goya, even if it wasn't her goya. So, what our recipe never told us was that when you prepare a goya for cooking, you cut it open and remove all the seeds and pith and then slice the remaining shell into very thin, half-moon slices. Then, you soak the slices in salt water and "scrunch" them slightly. This helps remove some of the bitter oils. Most of the recipes involving goya will have you pan fry it in some way. When doing this, you must make sure that the goya is thoroughly cooked. I wasn't quite sure what "thoroughly cooked" meant, with goya, so it ended up being undercooked and a horribly bitter dish. Next time, I will keep what I have learned in mind.

I found some broccoli the other day and was extremely satisfied to make a boring chicken and broccoli stir-fry.

Today, while going to the grocery store (they had white peach juice and melon bread today!), I passed a tiny, long-haired dachshund, slowly tottering after its master. On the way back, I passed a rather large weimaraner that appeared to be walking in a rather odd manner. When I got closer, I realized that the dog was wearing shoes. I wondered whether this dog's owner felt that the traditions requiring people to wear shoes outdoors and keep them off while inside should apply to their pet as well. After all, the same dirt that would be an a human's feet would be on a dog's feet as well.

With all that rambling done, I must now go make dinner.