nakji

If you have an Asian grocery anywhere nearby, Korean yujacha is essentially a marmalade made of citron, meant to have boiling water poured over and drunk as tea. But I've used it for cooking successfully, most notably for a mashed sweet potato glaze at Thanksgiving. If you got your hands on some, it should be relatively inexpensive - and you could just rinse the jam part off.

I don't own my own teapot at home, but I've been meaning to get one. The one I use at work has a strainer that fits in the top. I like this design, because if I'm using tea leaves, it works, but if I want to use a bag, it also works - I just leave the strainer out. After I make my first infusion, I leave the strainer to the side on a saucer, then pop it back in later for a second or third infusion. My office has a thermal pot that boils the water and then holds it at that temperature. I can't help thinking the water must get stale, staying like that all day. Is this a rational fear?

If I can be honest, I think there's too much going on with it. Your balls are beautiful so I would have used them alone. No leaves or cage effect. If you had a lot of balls in various sizes, you could group them in the middle, like a group of Christmas tree bulbs. It might be hard to cut into that way, however. Maybe with the pomegranate gelee underneath as a glaze to increase stick power? The flavours sound lovely, though.

I don't know about Japan either - all of the pajori I've ever eaten was in Korea, and I wasn't too fussed on it there. I avoid eating Korean food in Japan, since it pains me to pay for tiny little plates of kimchi. I like to cook kimchi along the bottom of the samgyeopsal plate in the pork fat that runs down, then wrap it around the pork and eat it like that. Does that count as ssam?

I routinely ignore her measures with regards to pasta. I follow the recipe for sauce, but then just use as much pasta as the two of us can eat. The ratio of sauce to pasta is usually to our liking this way. Interesting note about the sausages in Italy. Did you see them featured on a lot of menus? “Flavour perceived is impossible to draw a picture of or measure out. It is an emotion stirred up by the memory and the senses.” -Marcella Hazan, p.175 “Marcella’s Italian Kitchen” It’s funny you should mention enjoyment versus authenticity, because this week that's what I ended up thinking about a lot. One of the most exciting things for me to learn about a country is its smell on the streets at dinner time. Hong Kong smells like roasted pork, unsurprisingly. Hanoi smelt like star anise at night, when the pots of pho stock got boiling, and the steam was carried down the alleys between bursts of motorcycle exhaust. Korea smelt of pork fat dripping onto charcoal – a smell up there with babies and bacon as far as I’m concerned. Japan at lunchtime smells like curry powder and frying pork. Nothing is as intimate, though, as the smell of your house when you’re coming up on it after a long day at work, and you smell dinner cooking. Living overseas like I have for the past few years, nothing ever I have ever smelt on the street has remotely reminded me of coming home in Canada. The last year in Japan, I’ve given up trying to cook the dishes of my childhood, and embraced a new style of cooking, not based on butter or potatoes, but one based on ingredients like soy, mirin,and dashi . The smell of meat cooking in this trio has become for me, one of homecoming. The other night, I was walking home from the train, as I often do, amongst the frantically texting hordes of salarymen doing the same thing, and I was struck by this very same smell. I inhaled and immediately thought, “oooh – dinner.” And then realized I was nowhere near my own apartment. And then I realized that my apartment smelled like other people’s homes in Japan. I was struck by two things after this realization: First, I was now ready to get serious about cooking fish. You can’t live in Japan and ignore fish. Second: I have no idea what Italy smells like. How can I worry about whether my dishes are hewing true to Marcella’s, when I have no idea what the real thing tastes like? Or smells like? And I understand her struggle in writing this book. How can you translate the flavour and taste of something out of its context? Is it possible to do so? What is lost in translation? Something Torakris mentioned in her brilliant eGCI lesson on Japanese cooking was that the most difficult thing to emulate in some dishes was “mother’s taste” – the taste of how your mother cooked something. It intimidates many people, especially when faced with making classic home-cooking dishes like nikkujyaga. She felt freer than the average person in preparing this dish, because she had no mental image of how it should taste, as her own mother had never prepared it. So I’m going to give up on worrying about fennel in my sausage and incursions of mitsuba into parsley territory. I will cook what I can and enjoy it on its own merits. Now for the fish: When you take language lessons as a beginner, you’re generally taught how to introduce yourself and basics like asking for directions and how to tell time. Also – how to describe your work, hobbies, and families. What they don’t get to until much later is the sort of information you actually will need to discuss – such as, “I hurt my arm while hiking, is it possible to get an x-ray?” and “I need two fillets of a firm, white-fleshed fish – how about this stuff?” Nor are you able to understand when people come back with things like, “You have a 30 degree fracture of your radial neck and will require surgery.” or “Lady, that is this shop’s finest sashimi-grade sea bream .” But that’s okay, because even in a country like Japan, body language is often enough to let you know a situation is about to get really expensive. My local fishmonger wasn’t completely able to hide his surprise when I walked in today, but he was gracious nevertheless when I indicated I needed some fish for frying, and wondered if maybe the lovely white fillet in the case was suitable? Oh, it’s for sashimi? It’s 700 yen for 100 g? Hmm. Looking around the shop at all of the beautiful whole fish, I mentally kicked myself for not looking up the verb “filet” before leaving home. While I was casting about for something to add to the exchange (Japan is a great place for long silences – people actually seem comforted by them), he plucked a whole red snapper from his case, brandished his knife, and inquired if I wanted “filet.” Why, as a matter of fact, sir, you read my mind. He had it broken down and bagged in under a minute, and pressed the bones and head bagged separately onto me as well. He suggested cooking them with a little water for soup, and when I asked whether or not I should add a little miso to it, he had a look in his eye such that I thought he was going to follow me home and show me how to do it proper like. They’re still in my fridge, as yet unpurposed. Suggestions? This week's recipe, as I mentioned, is Filetti di Pesce al Vino Rosso on p. 171. Pretty fillets, pre-saucing: In the spirit of not worrying too much about authenticity, I ditched the idea of using celery, which is on the very short list of foods that I abhor. I have a huge bunch of Japanese leeks from the local garden patch, so I used that instead. I foolishly thought I could do the chopping myself, but after getting the carrots done for the scapece, my shoulder ached too much, so I delegated that to my husband. After twenty excruciating minutes of watching him cube carrots, I thought I was going to scream. The rest of the recipe came together in minutes once all the prep was done, however. Waaaaayyy too much sauce - or too little fish? But it was nicely soaked up with some bread and plain baked potatoes on the side. I think the carrots were great, but perhaps too tangy to serve along fish with red wine? Next time I'll pair them with something milder, I think.

I've heard that in Korea, the food is best in the far North (not sure about that these days) and the far South. Jeolla provinces are supposed to be especially good, while Pyongyang is famous for its noodles. Certain cities are famous for particular dishes. For example: Chuncheon for ddalk galbi, Jeonju for Jeonju style bibimbap, Busan for raw fish, Andong for soju and jim ddalk, Suwon for galbi...

Well, I don't like it raw. But ddalk galbi is just wrong without it, IMO. I love the way it goes all limp when it cooks down. If I made a serious attempt to keep eating it, no doubt I'd come to like it. Uuuh - pajori is the shredded spring onion with chili? I'm indifferent on it, I think. It's nice to have, but I can enjoy my ssam in its absence. Garlic and sesame oil are key. Everything else, including ssamjang, is window dressing for me. Oh boy, I think we need a ssam topic.

Bruce, I've been eyeing this recipe for a while. My husband came home with a big bag of carrots this weekend, so I think I'll put that one into the rotation. It looks like it'll be a yummy addition to my Thursday bento, if any survives dinner. My husband begged for cooking relief last night, and it was payday, so I felt I had to oblige him. We went to an izakaya and had a good laugh about what a crappy month it had been. I'm cooking tonight, and I'm going to tackle fish, specifically, Filetti di Pesce al Vino Rosso on p. 171. I say tackle not to be punny, but because fish has always made me feel a little guilty.This is mainly because when I was younger, the fish stocks off the Grand Bank in Newfoundland collapsed, and the news was filled with stories of lives ruined, people out of work, and the borderline extinction of a species. So when I think of fish, I always have a niggling worry in the back of my mind about whether I'm doing the right thing by eating it. [Also, my husband professes to dislike seafood, but in the past his dislikes have mainly been a product of poor cooking during his childhood. Since Japan is rather known for having some good quality fish, living here is the perfect time to change that. He has eaten grilled sanma with salt happily, and has even managed to choke down some (extremely good quality) tai sashimi. (On my birthday, when he made an effort to enjoy sushi). He likes o-toro and will suffer through maguro. Under no circumstances will he eat either salmon or shellfish.] I'm of the firm belief, though, as you know, that if you throw enough butter and/or carbs at something, most people will like it. This recipe calls for dredging the fish in flour and then sauteing it in butter, so I think I have my bases covered. It calls for the further happy step of dousing the whole lot in booze, and finishing with a reduced sauce, which should get him into trying it at the very least. If not - well, I'll have lots of carrots on the side, and there'll be more for me. Marcella seems very anti-fennel with regards to sausage. I'm not against fennel myself, in fact, I enjoy it in sausages, but she says it's inauthentic. Are you pro-fennel, or against?

I'll clarify: For beef, I only put garlic, meat and ssamjang in my ssam. If I'm having samgyeopsal, or other fatty pork, then I add mussam - but I never put rice in my ssam. Too bulky for me. During a meal, after I have a lovely lettuce ssam, I then might take a mussam and wrap some rice in it and eat it that way. Strange, I know, but I'm not Korean, so I had no one to show me how to do it properly. I'll come right out now and say I don't enjoy kket nip (perilla leaf) ssam. I don't like them raw. Sheena: You are a wimp for mixing your soju! Shame! But soju cocktails are very trendy, right? In Japan they mix it with oolong tea. We also used to mix it with Sac Sac or Jeju kyul juice. Thanks for the help, when I get the use of my arm back, I'll definitely be making this.

It sometimes comes green with added wasabi powder, or it's sometimes pink. I'm not sure if the pink is flavoured with anything - but it sure is pretty wrapped around rice.

Here's one I made with shiitake and carrots. It holds nicely to take for lunch the next day. Room temperature okowa is so much nicer than regular rice, and it's even better with the seasonings. Try as I might, though, I can't keep it from burning on the bottom every time.

I am ashamed to say I've never made stock. I'd post a picture of the size of my freezer as justification, but it would only depress all of us. I like water just fine. When I cook Japanese food, I just use instant dashi powder. For European cooking, if I feel it really needs it, I'll add a scoop of "chicken" powder, an absolute integral ingredient in Northern Vietnamese cooking. I suspect it's mostly msg. But water is definitely under-rated as an ingredient. You won't be disappointed, and please report back on what kind of sausages you use. Thanks for the kind wishes!

The circular "pancakes" are actually thin slices of pickled mu (or daikon, if you prefer), which go exceptionally well inside a ssam. They are hands down my favourite pickle. I like to wrap them around balls of rice and eat them straight up. The yellow stuff - I'm not sure, but isn't it square yellow radish pickle?

Do you have access to persimmons? I always think of those as a fall fruit. The orange colour would provide a nice contrast if you julienned apples and persimmons and tossed them together. Drizzle with honey or maple syrup?

100 yen for a bowl of pho? Now that's a real good price! How many dishes did you try, and which was your favourite? Hey, is that your son?

How quickly my memory fades....good thing I'm going back for a refresher next month! Thanks to you, I won't make a fool of myself trying to order it now.

I'm a big fan of Harumi's somen salad with tuna. Boil then cool one bunch of somen noodles. Add thinly sliced onion, cucumber, ground pepper and mayonnaise to taste, along with one small thin of tuna, drained. It's a great side-dish, or packed lunch.

Does she salt it when she adds the gochugaru, or after? And does she add any vinegar to the seasoning? O-ship o-ship is fifty-fifty, right? In a restaurant you can order soju cut with baeksaeju 50/50 - and they always serve that in a brass pot, which is why I asked.

Soy sauce and mayonnaise. (on cabbage, preferably) Mayonnaise and ponzu soy sauce. Sour cream and sweet chili sauce on potato wedges. Gochujang mixed with deonjang/miso for ssamjang.

Well, I made it hot, but no reason you couldn't eat it cold. The only reason I'd want it hot is to melt the butter. I'd nuke your kabocha to warm it up, then stir in the seasonings. Then you can eat it right away, or not. I usually end up serving my vegetable side dishes at room temp anyway, because I make them before getting to the main dish, and then they sit on the table until we're ready to eat. Enjoy!

Isn't it fall? Curried salad sound fabulous, I'll try that!

Oh how elegant, you put your soju in a kettle! Did you do o-ship o-ship? Bossam is amaaazing. My Korean friend Mrs. Im used to make the best bossam. Does your mum care to share her method for marinated radish? I love that stuff.

My husband loves them a lot, too! In fact, when he sees this, he'll probably start agitating for them to be put back into rotation. They're perfect comfort food for cold weather. How are rissoles typically served? I might stitch it into a sampler for my kitchen - I'll hang it over my spice rack! Bruce, I just remembered that I have some zucchini kicking around that could benefit from Marcella's attention. I'll give that one a whirl sometime this week.

Thanks for all the kind wishes, all! I'm on the mend, tho typing and cooking are still both a pain for me. This reminds me, Bruce, that often, there is as much uniting food and cooking around the world as there is separating it. Well, there are certainly enough schoolgirls in uniforms running around with deadly weapons to qualify. And I am sick of being attacked by ninjas on my way to the train each morning. But seriously, my Marcella book, which was pristine despite having been purchased used, was christened last night when my husband dumped a half a glass of red wine on it. So it's getting broken in appropriately. You've got to go get your own. Yes, with that dish especially - God is in the details, if you will. I'm sure your sons will find this a rewarding recipe to make. Cheap, too, which is always a bonus when feeding teenage boys. As for this week... I gave my arm a rest, and let my husband do all the work. We tackled one of her veal recipes: Polpettine di Vitello con Panna Rosa, p. 217 Not terribly pretty, but delicious. Marcella writes, "...It is a dish originally prepared for children, but there must be something of the child in grown-up palates, for I have found it equally appealing to adults." I chose this recipe because it reminded me of another popular dish in Japan: hambaagu. Essentially a patty of meat served with a soy-sauce glaze, or similar, and a favourite of kids across Japan. You can find hambaagu at the 7/11, in the local Dennys, or countless other "family" restaurants. If you've never tried this dish, I urge you strongly to try Hiroyuki's nikomi hambaagu, which is an excellent use of ketchup. I haven't seen veal for sale in Japan, so instead I used the ground pork-beef mix common in Japanese supermarkets. Instead of soy or ketchup in the sauce as is the case in Japan, we used cream and canned plum tomatoes. This dish is minimally seasoned, calling for chopped garlic and parsley in the meat, and no additional bells or whistles in the sauce. Looking back over my previously completed recipes in this topic, I've done quite a few tomato-based dishes, but the subtle differences in seasoning each has prevented them from feeling repetitive. Restraint is rewarded with flavour. Stepping back, this is the lesson I've learned so far. (And is echoed in what I've learned about Japanese cooking!) One of the things I love about eGullet is that though many of you following learned these lessons years ago, you're still willing to follow along and help others discover the same things. Cheers!

It looks lovely, Ce'nedra. What recipes are going in?