tokyo food file

New Year greetings

Akemashite omedetou gozaimasu.

To everyone: good fortune, good eating and good health in 2014!

 

More on New Year in Japan and how it's celebrated on a previous post here… 

Den meets Florilège: an anniversary collaboration to remember

At the beginning of last month [February 2, 2013], chef Zaiyu Hasegawa celebrated the fifth anniversary of opening Jimbocho Den with a remarkable commemorative banquet. 

It was a collaboration, together with his good friend Hiroyasu Kawate, held over two evenings at Kawate's brilliant little modern-French restaurant, Florilège in Aoyama. Both chefs have an inventive, irreverent approach to their respective cuisines. This meal was a chance for them to pool their creativity. 

The evening actually started before we got inside: a box of dirt (below right) and much the same sign as you see outside Den (left below), except this one says: "Florilège is also cultivating moss. Attention!"

    

Our table was set with special anniversary tenugui towels.

 

 

Nobody knew quite what to expect — was it going to be Japanese or French or what? Basically it turned out to be like a longer, crazier version of a meal at Den — but in the plush, luxury of Florilège's bijou dining room it felt very different... 

 

While we waited, there was a packet of snacks — grilled yuba, tatami iwashi and vegetable chips in trademark whimsical style — to nibble on...

…while we perused the menu. Not that it was giving much away...  

 

And then the action started. Beginning with...

1. "Degustation"

Two glasses of hot broth: one white, the other red. A fragrant katsuo dashi; and a rich bouillon. Den meets Florilège.

 

2. "冷たい奴だな" (tsumetai yatsu dana) = A cold guy

Throughout, the menu was all basically word-play. Because what Hasegawa-san and Kawate-san like doing is food play. Dishes are not what they seem; traditional favorites are deconstructed or given a totally new twist.

In this case, the name is a riff on the kanji characters for hiya-yakko. And sure enough, instead of a standard tofu seasoned with shoyu, we were served a "tofu" made with ricotta; and the smoky-flavored sauce in the little fish dispenser was made from a "burnt" olive oil base.

 

 

3. "他人のそらに" (ta-nin no sorani) = An accidental resemblance 

A cube resembling goma-dofu but made with sora-mame broad beans rather than sesame, then deep-fried firm on the outside, soft and creamy (and pale green) inside, with a tapenade-like sprinkle as the only seasoning... 

 

4. "I'm only sleeping"

The customary colourful Den salad. But this one with a couple of very special extra features…

 

Such as the dirt sauce underneath — though there was as much truffle in it as earth, and the "soil" was mostly composted coffee grounds.

And what's that, sleeping in this floral bed of vegetables? An inago grasshopper, cooked down in sweetened shoyu, in tsukudani style — the way it's done traditionally up in the mountains. Savoury... crunchy!

 

And then there was a long, pink worm — thankfully, it too was sleeping... Which turned out to be a very realistic-looking pasta contribution from Kawate-san.

 

?.  "Who are you? (bonus trick)"

One of the highlights of the evening, and it wasn't even given its own number... Two spoons of pâté — one made from iwashi sardine; the other from woodcock. Both with a similar texture, but totally different provenance. Especially, since we were invited to eat them blindfolded (the bonus trick)...

 

…and also a mini "burger" of the same iwashi, served on a patty of sushi rice. 

 

5. "肝に銘じる" (kimo ni meijite) = Take to heart / deeply impressed

The word-play here, of course, is that kimo means liver. A tea ceremony sweet, served with a bowl of sencha green tea...

 

The composition of the outer layer, like the bird shape, was entirely traditional, made from lightly sweetened mochi rice flour...

 

But inside, instead of red-bean an... a generous block of foie gras.

 

Another traditional snack came with it: isobe-yaki. Normally this is grilled mochi, served warm and soft, slathered with sweetened soy sauce and wrapped in a sheet of nori. Except normally it does not contain a core of rich foie. Superb!

 

6. "ひさしぶり" (hisashiburi) = It's been a while

A play on the word "buri" — one of the names for yellowtail/amberjack. It was a deep, rich miso broth, featuring a slice of kan-buri (winter yellowtail).

 

And plenty of other good stuff besides: abalone, shirako milt, and shimeji mushrooms.

 

On the side was another fine contribution from Kawate-san: handmade ribbon pasta topped with grated parmesan...

 

All that umami! We tipped it into the broth and slurped it up, like some kind of decadent crossover ramen.

 

7. "猪突妄進" (chototsu moushin??) = Reckless (??)

Someone will have to help me with the reading of that kanji phrase — and with the exact meaning (though it's something to do with recklessness). But it's all about the first character, which means "wild boar" or "hog". Cue a wonderful dish of grilled pork...

 

...which was accompanied by "Peking duck" style pork crackling. Outstanding. 

 

8. "No rice No life"

Time for the rice course. We were offered a choice here: that good old home-cooking staple, omu-raisu (omelette wrapped around seasoned rice)...

 

… or chazuke, with fine-chopped pickled nozawa-na vegetables — served in those distinctive gold Florilège bowls.

 

9. "姉さんおつかれ!" (nēsan otsukare) = Thanks for the hard work, sister!

The first of several dessert courses, which (as always) were prepared by Den's talented sous-chef, Rei Mochizuki — the "sister" referred to in the name. This first bowl extended the "earth" theme: a tiramisu-style sesame cream sprinkled with coffee "dirt". 

  

 

10. "Coke 2"

A new take on the classic Den "moss" dessert — and served (as always) on a trowel with a layer of that same "dirt". Sitting on a sheet of Japan Times newsprint (how did she know?). The moss on top was fine-ground pistachio, and the mascarpone inside was tinted the same colour.

And the name? It's nothing to do with cola. It's actually a variant way of spelling koke, which is the standard romanization of 苔, meaning moss. And it was the Mark II version of that dessert.

Around the same time we were also served a wooden masu (sake measure) containing parched soybeans — an allusion to the upcoming setsubun festival. No faces on these beans, though...

 

11. "Good luck"

As the final parting shot, a tray filled with mugi-chocolate (chocolate-covered puffed wheat). Straight out of the packet, nothing special there. Until we picked one of those strings...

 

...and found out if our final sweet was white or dark chocolate. Whichever it was, we were in luck.

 

What a feast it was. And didn't we have a great time! Almost as much fun as the two chefs.

 

Congratulations, Hasegawa-san! And big thanks, Kawate-san!

 

EDIT: For another epic Den-Florilege collaboration (this time at Jimbocho Den), there's another post here…

 

C*Lab Project: crossover confectionery in Asakusa

 

Japan’s prodigious ability to assimilate, reproduce and then develop homegrown adaptations of products from other cultures is legendary. Why should it be any different when it comes to patisseries?

Having mastered the standard repertoire of classic European pastries, the new generation of Japanese pâtissiers are busy working up their own crossover versions. Among them is C*Lab Project, a small workshop that opened in Tokyo’s Asakusa district last year. 

 

Just a short stroll south of the historic Kaminarimon gate, C*Lab looks and feels über-contemporary. The walls are smooth, bare concrete; chilled electronica plays on the sound system; and soundless video flickers overhead in the compact cafe space that looks out onto the street.

 

There is no lack of imagination at play in the workshop at the back of the store...

 

as evidenced in the display case next to it.

 

Among the highlights are the jewel- like cubes of mousse cake, in flavors such as Cassis Fig, yuzu-accented Citron, or the excellent raspberry-infused Chocolat Rouge with its glittering of gold powder.

 

And then there’s the Camouf Roll. As the name suggests, this is a roll cake prepared in a camouflage mottle of chocolate brown, plain white andmatcha green — both the sponge cake on the outside and the sweet cream inside.

 

An alternate version, called the Ladies Roll, offers the same pattern, but in pink and white.

As Valentine Day approaches, chocolate is featuring prominently...

 

C*Lab’s version of a classic gâteau chocolat comes as small, individually wrapped bite-sized portions in the shape of squat mushrooms.

 

More conventional are the orangettes, strips of candied orange peel dipped in dark chocolate, which are sold as gift packs in boxes of light kiri (paulownia) wood or in simple plastic “refill” pouches.

 

Furthest out of all is the Mochi Chocolat. Bite-sized portions of the same sticky rice “cakes” eaten everywhere in Japan at New Year’s are paired with a blob of tsubu-an (thick adzuki jam), enrobed in rich chocolate ganache and then covered with a thin layer of chocolate imbued with aromas such as strawberry, matcha and orange.

The concept may sound dubious, but it works really well, thanks in great measure to the rum with which the tsubu-an is infused.

 

Sold in presentation boxes of five assorted flavors, these could be the most outré of all the Valentine’s Day gifts you will find this year.

New Year flavors — ozoni, yaki-tai and toshikoshi soba

It's always a happy new year for me if I can start the day with ozoni.

We don't follow any precedents or handed-down recipes: we're outsiders, we don't have to. Each year we adjust the ingedients and ratios. It really doesn't matter what foods you use in your ozoni as long as a) the dashi is good; and b) there's some mochi lurking at the bottom of your bowl. 

This year the dashi was prepared from ne-kombu and premium katsuo-bushi. The miso was white Yamari from Kyoto, a lovely creamy miso that's neither too salty nor too sweet. The mochi was made yesterday by our neighbourhood wagashi artisan, still soft and pliable and puffing up effortlessly under the grill before being added to the mix.

Also in the bowl: sake-grilled buri (yellowtail); a slice of Miura daikon; slivers of kyo-ninjin carrot; a big fat fresh shiitake; and a few leaves of young komatsuna and nanohana greens.

And I feel positively celebratory if there's tai (snapper/sea bream) on the table too.

Ours — the smaller of the two below — was freshly salt-grilled (shio-yaki) by our local fishmonger on his curb-side charcoal grill.

 

And yes, we did see out the old year with the usual toshi-koshi soba. It's just that the photos didn't turn out so well. We'd already laid into the nihonshu by the time we ate them. But this is what the noodles looked like straight out of their cute little package (love that photo of the buckwheat plants in bloom) fresh from our local te-uchi sobaya...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Top noodles — delicate and aromatic, hand-rolled and chopped, of course — packed with wonderful rich savoury tsuyu dipping sauce, along with twists of freshly grated wasabi and pink-tinged Himalayan rock salt.
 

snacking for Tohoku: KitKat gets in on the act

Taking a break from its usual role as a multinational food behemoth whose first and only interest is padding its bottom line, Nestlé is lending its mighty marketing (and, of course, manufacturing) machine to the efforts to help the devastated Tohoku region.

It's a Kitkat called Zunda. The idea is that it evokes the taste — or at least the image — of zunda-mochi, a sweet that is a traditional delicacy of Miyagi, one of the three worst-hit prefectures in the Northeast. Basically, it's a dumpling topped with ground-up sweetened eda-mame green soybeans — as suggested by the image on the front of the pack.

 

The label promises that 10 yen from every unit (not sure if that's per pack or carton) goes to the cause of reconstruction (I haven't read the fine print on exactly where it goes).

And this is what it looks like inside. It's actually white chocolate, given a pale green tint — though that's not obvious from the bleached-out photo here...

Here's a better picture:

And how does it taste? Well, the ingredients listing does really include some eda-mame powder and if you focus carefully as you first put it in your mouth there is a very faint aroma that could be from green soybeans.

In a random and unscientific poll of about 5 people, the general consensus was that it's OK. Alright even. And certainly better than a lot of the other novelty flavoured KitKats produced here over the past few years.

Here's more on zunda-mochi, from Food Librarian who recently posted on how to prepare this colourful sweet (and from whom I got this picture).

And here is KitKat's own website which is actually quite fun.

If you look carefully at all the regional specialty versions, you can see that the zunda variety was actually launched last year, but it's been rebranded for the fund-raising appeal.

 

More KitKat commentary on the Food File here... 

and a whole fistful of KitKats here...