At this stage of the year, there's not a whole lot of variety in our local farmers market. The heat has wilted all but the hardiest of the summer produce. But there's one vegetable in particular that seems to thrive in these conditions...
Eggplant, aubergine, brinjal, call them whatever you like. I prefer to use the Japanese word nasu [茄子, なす], rather than the American or French/English equivalents — mainly because few of them are anything like egg-shaped, nor are they necessarily aubergine in colour.
Here's a selection of what was on sale the other morning...
classic Japanese nasu
naga ("long") nasu
shiro-naga ("white long") nasu
shiro-naga ("white long") nasu – a green variety that, according to the sign, has the delicate soft texture of avocado
shiro ("white") nasu - now these really do look like eggs
"fairytale" nasu
tai ("Thai") green nasu - they stay firm when simmered, says the sign, so they're good in curries.
hisui ("jade") nasu - soft, with little aku (brackishness)
shirakami nasu – "meltingly soft and delicious", says the sign.
itaria ("Italian") nasu
sarada ("salad") nasu
mizu nasu – a speciality of Kyoto, mizu (literally "water") nasu are traditionally the only variety ever served raw. They also, as the sign says, make excellent pickes.
We see plenty of yellowtail (seriola) species at our local fish market. There is usually buri or hamachi (amberjack); ready supplies of kampachi (almaco jack), and almost always some cultured shima-aji (striped jack).
But far more unusual is hiramasa (yellowtail amberjack), especially caught from the open seas. We snapped up a quarter-fillet. It's a firm-fleshed fish that makes excellent sashimi.
New-season spuds. There's nothing like them. And when the craving hits, there's only one place to go to assuage it — our local farmers market.
So what's it to be? There are Inca no Mezame (literally "Inca Awakening") from Peru (well, that's where the strain originated) with their vibrant yellow interiors....
Or perhaps Kita-akari ("northern light"), a Japanese strain, with their warm yellow hue and starchy, fluffy texture...
And then there are these remarkable black French spuds...
In the end I had to get a few of each of them.
And first to get cooked up were the Kita-Akari. Soft and flaky, and much yellower inside than you'd expect from their colour when raw, they are delectable. Especially mixed with fine chopped prosciutto and some baby broad beans, with just a hint of herbs and olive oil...
Kan-buri, yellowtail caught in winter, is one of the major delicacies of the season. So when we spotted one the other day — the first time our local market had got them in — it was too tempting to miss.
This handsome fellow was landed in Toyama on the Japan Sea coast and trucked down overnight to our market in Kanto. It was still incredibly gleaming fresh.
At ¥3,880 for a quarter, and four times that for the whole fish, tennen buri ("wild" — ie not fish-farmed — yellowtail) is certainly not cheap. But it will get even pricier just ahead of the New Year holidays. Plus a quarter of a fish this size provides at least three meals.
The big question always is: belly or back? This time we chose the former, because it's so rich and fatty, perfect for sashimi if it's as fresh as this. When we buy for the New Year we prefer to get the back section, as it's leaner and keeps better — and also goes better in our ozoni soup (most people in this part of the country use chicken, but we've usually had our fill of fowl after all the Christmas feasting).
It's always fascinating watching the market guys prepare the fish for us (the old guy as often as not with a smouldering cigarette in his mouth). It's the effortless ease that comes from years — if not generations — of experience. That and incredibly sharp knives.
Here is the younger guy in action, cutting up our order...
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