Snow!

So our first snow of the season fell yesterday morning. Our first slush fell the day before, but that doesn't count. There's not much of it out there, but it's still pretty.

It's also still falling (though it wasn't when I took that picture), so who knows how it will look later. I don't even know how it looks now. The windows are all fogged up.

Yup, snow.
We were told to expect the first snow sometime around mid-December to mid-January. We were also told that a high count of stinkbugs supposedly foretells a lot of snow for the following winter. We had a lot of stinkbugs. Do you remember those pictures of our pet spider? Well, all those lumps in her web were stinkbugs.

Speaking of our darling Nephila (yes, we named her), she's gone. She disappeared some time ago, leaving a lonely web behind. She may have been knocked down by the particularly strong winds we had the week she vanished and decided to rebuild where she landed...or she could have been eaten by a bird. Who knows. She's gone.

We sort-of miss her.

...

Sort-of.

Anyway, two days ago (the day of the first slush of the season), I woke up earlier than I normally do and headed to the grocery store without checking the clock. I knew when I had woken up, roughly, and realized partway there that the store was likely not open for another while. As I approached the store, I noticed that it was not blaring music and the lights didn't appear to be on, so I promptly took the next turn and began an adventure! Lucky for you, I took my camera along.

Okay, so it wasn't so much of an adventure as an "Alex walks up a hill along a road he's never been on before and back down it," but still, I have pictures.

We shall start with this: the closest Buddhist temple to our apartment (at least I think it's the closest). The picture isn't actually the temple itself (at least, not the main building). The structure directly behind the tall stone with writing carved into it is just the entrance gate. The buildings to the right appear to be part of the temple compound, but the main building is that rooftop to the right. It doesn't really look as impressive as this picture, though, so don't worry that I never took a picture of it. Do you see the pond on the right? It has a tree hanging over it, held up with crutches. I'm assuming that it is a flowering tree because it fits with the Japanese sense of aesthetics...that and it doesn't look like a maple. I'll have to check back in the spring.

I continued on the road and it was abruptly rural. This is not to say that we don't live in a rural town, but we live in the town part of the rural town and most of where I need to walk is also in the town part. So, it was quite startling to suddenly find I had wandered into the rural part. It was the walking into it that made it startling, not that it was there. We'd ride past several rural locations while being driven from one event to another, so I knew the rural was there...it just took some more active presence to make me realize it.

Oh, right! Pictures!

So I did a terrible job of taking pictures of the actual farms, but I got some interesting pictures, nonetheless. Here's the edge of a bamboo grove near a farm and the farm's shed. Did you know that bamboo is actually a species of grass? Amazing! Just imagine mowing that every week! But, yes. Those trees which don't appear to be able to support their own weight are bamboo.






Next up, persimmons!

I apologize that the subject of the picture is so dark. I blame the lighting and the poor angle. But "up" was the only angle available to me (it was a tall tree on a hillside), so here it is. The persimmon tree is standing next to a palm tree. It's hard to tell, but they're waving hello. There are still a bunch of persimmons on the tree. They are much smaller than the persimmons we normally get in the grocery store, but you can sometimes buy small persimmons too.

Now, let's get a look at this hillside.

You can't really see it in the picture, but there's a dirt path (with the occasional bit of wooden stairway) zig-zagging its way up the hill. Most of the trees are cedars of one variety or another. There are some evergreens of other sorts mixed in as well. The hillside was rather pretty, though, so I just wanted to make sure that you had a chance to see it too.

I continued climbing until I came upon a road at the hill's crest. Across the road was one of the elementary schools Nat teaches at (she's teaching there today). I decided to turn around at this point and I saw the bay (if you look, you can see the Amanohashidate). Turns out it wasn't much of a walk, and the rural bit I had encountered was only a tiny bit of winding, hillside road that Nat bikes up every Friday, but I still enjoyed it. Seeing the bay, though, made me decide that I wanted to walk by the sea. So, I meandered back down the hill. By the time I was nearing the road to the sea, a fine mist of snow pieces (there was no way anyone could really call it "snow") began to fall. As I approached, I noticed that the road to the sea had a police barricade. I decided that it was a bad time to visit the sea when a fire truck joined the police. So, I wandered through some back streets for a while, noticed a few stores I had never seen before and eventually made my way to the clock-on-a-signpost to check the time. The grocery store had just opened! I bought my groceries and went home. Later that day, the mist of snow pieces turned into a downpour of slush...which Nat had to bike home in. Poor Nat!

A hilltop cemetery behind the Buddhist temple.


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Seriously: Autumnal Infestation

So, you remember how I posted about the abundance of persimmons in our house? Maybe the post from less than a day ago about how I was trying to use up some of our persimmons? Or maybe the several recipes I've fabricated so that I can use up some persimmons?

We just got six more.

Don't get me wrong. I've learned to love persimmons rather quickly and I tend to wonder why I hated them so much as a child.

Luckily, we have a plan to use them all up before the weekend is out. Tomorrow, I shall make the persimmony rice pudding (again) and package it up to hand out to our English conversation group tomorrow night. Sunday, Nat's having some of the ladies over for a pasta lunch. The last of our persimmons will become fritters for dessert.

I fully expect to receive more persimmons on Sunday. It's the seasonal gift and, being a more rural community, everyone is related to at least one person with a persimmon tree. I was saving some seeds to see if I could start a persimmon bonsai. Maybe I should rethink this...

Persimmon Fritters

So, I had some corn starch kicking around and wanting something to do, so I did a quick mental inventory and decided that our autumnal infestation of persimmons might help. I also wanted some lunch, so you will be horrified to know that this is what I made for lunch: Deep-fried persimmon slices. As delicious as these are, I assure you that I do not plan on making a regular habit of this.

So, here's the recipe:

Persimmon Fritters
(Another failure to have measurements)

Ingredients:

• 1 ripe Persimmon, peeled and sliced into thin wedges.
  
• Corn starch (I don't know how much. Enough to coat the persimmon wedges at least twice. Also, if I mention flour at all in this recipe, I actually mean corn starch. I apologize in advance as I expect to make this mistake often.)
• 1 tsp. Salt
• 1 tsp. Paprika (You might actually be able to leave this out, if you want. I've never been able to taste paprika so I just use it to add color....not that it added much.)
• 1/4 - 1/3 cup Sugar (I didn't measure it, really. But roughly this amount.)
• A mild oil for frying in. (You'll need roughly two inches or more. I did this in a sauce pan because I was only frying up one persimmon and I didn't need anything larger.)

Equipment:

• Cooking Chopsticks (extra big ones for nabbing things out of hot oil....or some tongs are good too. Whatever you prefer for cooking operations of this nature. Just be aware that you'll need it.)
• A sauce pan (or a pot, wok or deep-frier; whichever you feel safest deep-frying in)
• Ventilation (Not that this is a particular smokey recipe, but it's always safe to have around when you're cooking...especially if you choose to fry with olive oil)
• A bowl - for the corn starch and the mixing and the things
• A plate with a paper towel on it (or a similar setup so the fritters can cool and dry).

Instructions:

• Mix all the dry ingredients (corn starch, sugar, salt, paprika) in a bowl.
  
• Add the persimmon slices to the bowl and make sure they are thoroughly coated in the corn starch mixture and let sit for a couple minutes.
• Start heating up the oil in a sauce pan.
• The corn starch should have absorbed some juice from the persimmons, making them now look uncoated. Coat the persimmons a second time.
• Once the oil is ready, start adding the persimmons one at a time. Make sure they still appear to be fully coated in the corn starch mixture before you add them to the oil
• Let the persimmons cook until golden. This may be difficult to tell sometimes, as the outer crispy layer may sometimes look more pale than it actually is. Once a piece starts turning brown, it's just barely overdone (but still delicious, so not a problem). Judge each piece's done-ness individually.
• As you remove the finished persimmons from the oil, place them on the paper-towel-covered plate or a cooling rack (over a paper towel) so that they can drain and cool (just a little...they're best when still warm, but not blisteringly hot).
• Optional: If you like, you can roll these in a cinnamon-sugar mixture, sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on top, or dust with powdered sugar. I haven't tried this yet, so I'm leaving the risk to you.

I'm ashamed to say that I ate them all. They were just so deliciously gooey on the inside and crispy on the outside. I need to make a new batch for Nat to try.

Pepsi Azuki

I have something today. I don't know if this is an amazing something or a something that is just amusing, but it is a something. This something is azuki (sometimes spelled adzuki) bean Pepsi. Azuki beans are sweet red beans the Japanese use in a lot of desserts and snacks. It is one of the primary Japanese flavors for sweet things. In addition to the plethora of traditional foods containing the bean, the Japanese have azuki flavored ice cream, azuki cakes and now azuki Pepsi.

We also went to a potluck tonight. I made my persimmon rice pudding for it. This was partially inspired by an incident where one of Nat's students stole the camera to look at the pictures and a teacher asked about the pudding and asked to try some. I also realize that my usual potluck fall-back of fried eggplant (with skordalia) doesn't travel well. Luckily, we're still in the height of persimmon season, so this is the perfect food for a Japanese get-together.

I expressed, when I posted the recipe for this, that it may be wise to use more than one persimmon for the recipe. More persimmons is definitely a good idea. Since I had one on hand, I went to the store to pick up more. The only ones that were ripe enough were smaller persimmons, so I ended up using my one normal-sized persimmon and three more smaller ones (this would probably even out to three normal-sized persimmons or five small persimmons). Since I was in a bit of a hurry, I used the blender to mash them into goo.

The food at the potluck was delicious. There were more Americans present than Japanese. I had no idea what to expect, so I was actually a little surprised. It was fun, though.

Persimmony Rice Pudding

It worked! I made some persimmon and rice pudding, adapted from some stove-top rice pudding recipe I discovered somewhere on the vast internet sea. This means it's time for another recipe post!

Persimmony Rice Pudding
(Adapted from some recipe somewhere else
that had no persimmons in it at all)

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup White Rice, uncooked (If you can get your hands on it, I highly suggest mochi rice, as it's texture lends itself best to rice pudding)
• 1 1/2 cup Water
• 2-3 ripe Persimmons (Note that if the persimmon is somewhat dark inside and has a lot of grainy-looking dark spots, this is actually a good thing. This is actually an indicator that it is ripe.) *Edit: After a second go at this, I would say that three normal-sized persimmons or four small-sized persimmons are good, plus an extra persimmon for garnish.
  
• 2 cups of milk (You will use 1 1/2 cup and 1/2 cup separately)
• 1/3 cup Granulated sugar
• 1/4 tsp Salt
• 1 Egg, beaten
• 1 Tbsp Butter (I'm tempted to say that butter is optional, but I haven't tried it without, so I can't say for certain)
  

Optional Ingredients (I do not recommending using these all together, they are each their own variation):

• 1/2 tsp Vanilla (optional)
• 1/2 tsp Ginger root (optional)
• Nutmeg
• 1/4-1/3 cup Raisins

Directions:

1. Peel, deseed and cut one or two persimmons into small cubes. Whether you use one or two depends on how strong you want the flavor to be. Either way should taste good.
2. Mash the persimmon. You may use whichever method to do this you prefer. I use a mortar and pestil, but I realize that this is a long and tedious process that many people do not have the time or patience for. That, and many people don't own a mortar and pestil. You can also use a food processor or a blender. Whatever makes it look like orange slime works. *Optional step: If you are adding ginger to this recipe and you are using fresh ginger root, add it here and get it all properly mashed up along with the persimmon.
3. In a pot or saucepan that you think can handle 4 or more cups of this stuff, bring the water to a boil. Add the rice and mashed persimmon. Reduce the heat and allow it all to simmer for 20 minutes.
4. Stir up the rice mixture. Add 1 1/2 cups of milk, salt and sugar. Stir and cook over medium heat until it is thick and creamy. This may take another 20 minutes, it may not. It all depends on how cooperative your mixture feels. *Optional step: If using raisins, add them here. I abhor cooked raisins, so I will never be using this step. But some people like them, so this step is for those people. If you are using powdered ginger, add that here as well.
   
5. Slowly stir in the leftover 1/2 cup of milk and the beaten egg. This is more important for the egg than for the milk, as the egg will start cooking immediately and you want to get it as evenly mixed into the pudding as possible. Also, you may wish to turn down the heat a little at this point, so as to keep the pudding from popping out at you.
6. Continue cooking for another two minutes while you STIR CONTINUOUSLY. Don't stop. Really.
7. Remove from heat and stir in the butter. *Optional step: If you are using vanilla, now is the time to add it.
8. Dish the pudding up. Peel, seed and cut up your second (or third) persimmon into small pieces (strips, cubes, little hearts...you choose!) and place them on top as garnish or put them in a bowl for people to add as much or as little as they want to their own pudding. Heck, do both! *Optional step: If you are using nutmeg, sprinkle it sparingly over the top of each serving before adding the persimmon garnish.

That's it! This recipe should feed at least five people. Unless you eat a whole, freaking lot. In which case, shame on you! You should have saved some for the others!

Dinner itself was a mishap (a delicious mishap, but a mishap nonetheless), but that was due to my being distracted by the pudding when I should have taken some noodles off the burner, resulting in some very mushy yakisoba. Mmmm...mushy yakisoba.....

Autumn Fruits in Yosano

We've been eating a lot of new things, here and there, in addition to the plethora of things we've eaten in past trips to Japan and foods available in the US. Today, I'm going to tell you about some of the fruits we have here.

To the right are two fruits we have in the house right now. The one on the left should be easy to recognize. It's an apple. For the most part, apples are the same in Japan as they are in much of the rest of the world. This particular type of apple is usually used by the Japanese around festival time to make candied apples. The fruit on the right is a persimmon. There are several different kinds of persimmon, some of which need to be overripe before they are edible. Luckily for us, the Japanese tend to put things in stores when they are exactly ripe (except for tomatoes, which are usually sold frustratingly under-ripe).

Oh! I should put something in there so you can tell the sizes of these fruits. How's that? I bought a persimmon a few weeks back, just as they were getting in season. I ended up mashing it to a pulp and throwing it into a beef roast. It was pretty good! We got two more persimmons from one of Nat's coworkers (and our neighbor), so we just ate those plain. Then she gave us three more, along with some mandarin oranges. We ate all of the mandarins and I have plans for our current persimmons. Secret plans! If they work, I shall reveal all at a later date.

For those curious about the flavor of a persimmon, it's very sweet. When properly over-ripe, it's almost too sweet and can be used as a substitute for sugar in many recipes. When not eating the raw fruit, the Japanese sometimes dry it and eat it as a candy or as a sugar substitute. When under-ripe, it can be rather sour, due to its high tannin content. While some foods are lauded for the health benefits of their tannin content, persimmons have a bit too much and are best avoided until they ripen up quite a bit. After all, tannic acid is named because it was used in leather tanning. I think you might imagine what an immoderate amount might do to your stomach. If you've ever considered eating acorns, be aware that these are also reported to have a high tannin content and must go through a process to leech the tannins before they are good to eat. One or two probably won't hurt you, though (I used to eat an occasional acorn on the school playground as a child).

Back to the subject of Nat's coworkers giving us fruit, another coworker gave us some Japanese pears around the beginning of the month. Apparently, he had a surplus of FREAKING HUGE and insanely delicious Japanese pears. If we get more, I will smear a slice all over my computer screen in hopes that you guys will get a chance to taste them. Just thinking of people half a world away licking their computer screens wants me to try it right now.

Yes, I know it doesn't work that way, but a wild imagination has to get some use every now and again.

I guess that last picture might not really help you understand the actual size of the persimmon. The spoons in our house don't really come in sizes most of us from the States are used to.

Perhaps, I meant that you might want a better understanding of the size of the apple. That's right. We have miniature apples. Japan has normal-sized apples, too. These were just in the store for the festival season. As I mentioned above, these apples are typically candied (like American candied apples, only smaller...and sometimes different colored candy, like blue). I originally thought they were plums when I saw them at the grocery store. The price looked good, so I picked them up and noticed that they were, in fact, not plums. The novelty was too exciting to pass up, so we've been eating miniature apples for the past week. After some research, I discovered that Japan was not the only country with miniature apples. France also has a cultivar or two. So do some other countries, but I never got around to finishing my research. They taste like your average apple (as in, not any of those specific apples, like Red Delicious, Granny Smith or Gala; they just taste like "apple"). They're not incredibly filling, but a good snack for tiding one over until mealtime. Likely, they're going to be out of stores soon, if they aren't already. The demand for them in Japan appears to be extremely seasonal.