Traditional Japanese Soy Sauce a Flavor Changer

Those of us who love sushi probably believe we know all there is to know about soy sauce. As in simply choosing regular or low salt. Probably Kikkoman. Then we likely absently blending it with wasabe paste so we can dunk those precious pieces of raw fish and get a rush of salt and heat.

The problem is that most of us have never actually been exposed to true artisan soy sauce, made using traditional methods of extended fermentation instead of by machine and chemicals, and having only three ingredients: soybeans, wheat, and salt. Japanese soy sauces, called shoyu in Japanese, that have been slowly fermented for months, often in cedar casks, have an altogether different flavor and texture than the synthetic ones we in the U.S. tend to experience at the neighborhood sushi bar or off a grocery store shelf. They're also different from Chinese soy sauce, which, according to Shizuo Tsuji in the classic Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art, is very salty and has a dense flavor. Japanese soy sauces, he explains, have a relatively bright taste and aroma, and tend to be sweeter and less salty since they use far more wheat. They're also thinner in texture and clearer in color than Chinese-style sauces.

And those synthetic soy sauces? First, the manufacturing process cuts the natural brewing time of four to six months to develop flavor down to three to four days. And, instead of natural ingredients, you get hydrolized vegetable protein and hydrocholoric acid to get the chemical reaction going. Plus caramel and corn syrup is added for coloring and flavor. The result is a thick, black sauce often sold under a Chinese-sounding name. So, yes, check the label before you toss a bottle into your shopping cart next time. You'd be surprised. (As a side note, Kikkoman's soy sauces are made with the three traditional ingredients and is, according to author Tsuji, quite dependable, with the correct flavor and quality for cooking Japanese dishes--compared with Chinese type soy sauces or the chemical versions.)

Years ago, my friend Mineko Moreno, who teaches Japanese cooking locally, got me hooked on traditional soy sauces. She explained that these are sauces intended for dipping, not cooking--much like high quality olive oil. You want to experience the flavors of the soy sauce, not bury them in a Chinese stir fry or soup or other cooking preparation.

"I always tell my students that soy sauces like these should be used where the true taste of the soy sauce shines," she told me. On a tour of Nijiya Market, she pointed out several and I have been enjoying one made by Chiba Shoyu called Shimousa Shoyu.

Usually soy sauces are considered light (usukuchi) or dark (koikushi). Dark is more commonly used (think your basic Kikkoman). It has a deeper brown color and greater body, is less salty and used more expansively, say in marinades, to baste meats, and for simmering. Light soy sauce, on the other hand, is more caramel colored, clearer and thinner in consistency, and much saltier and more intense in flavor. So it's used more sparingly. Because it will darken over time once the bottle is opened, buy small amounts to use up more quickly.

I recently received two bottles of traditional soy sauces from the large Mitsuwa Marketplace grocery chain. Among their stores is one near me in the Kearny Mesa neighborhood of San Diego. They also  have an online store which sells a greater variety of products, such as these artisan soy sauces.

Indeed, these sauces are alive with flavor. I opened the bottle of Marushima's Kijyouyu Washi and took a whiff. What struck me was how much it reminded me of a good sherry. Because it's fermented, you get a slightly alcoholic sugary rush--even though it contains neither alcohol nor sugar. The flavor, though, is round and deep, matching the deep color of the liquid. It is the essence of umami, that hard to describe fifth taste.

According to the notes I had from Mitsuwa, Marushima has been brewing soy sauce for over 400 years, using organically grown Marudai soy beans. It's handmade and additive free.

Then I opened the Ohara Hisakichi Yuasa. It comes from the city of Yuasa in the Wakayama Prefecture, which is said to be the birthplace of Japanese soy sauce, dating back to the 1600s. This soy sauce also gets a long fermentation time, giving it plenty of umami. It's a little lighter than the Kijyouyu Washi, and I found it much saltier.

This led me to think I had both light and dark shoyus, but it turns out that while the brands both make light and dark varieties, these two are what could be described as medium--or all purpose.

For both, be sure to refrigerate them after opening. You can mix them with a little sesame oil and and seasoned rice vinegar to create a dipping sauce. You can enjoy them blended into a bowl of rice, most typically with a raw egg. This combination creates tamago kake gohan, a popular Japanese breakfast dish. Of course, as my friend Mineko notes, "Never pour any soy sauce over a bowl of rice. It is considered very bad manners. You can add soy sauce to an egg, mix and pour onto the rice, but don't pour it directly on the rice."

Mineko also suggests using the good stuff as an accompaniment for sashimi, adding a few dots on a beautiful cold tofu dish, or brushing it on grilled scallops for a finishing touch.

"I love good soy sauce," she says. "They give such a pleasure to the dish. It's also a lovely gift for a person who enjoys good food."

Print Page

Tofu Shirataki Noodles to the Rescue

Every since I was diagnosed almost two years ago with Type 2 diabetes I've said goodbyes to a host of high-carb foods. At the top of the list? Pizza and pasta. I've never been a huge pizza fan, although I've had my moments. But pasta? That was devastating. I've found some good whole wheat pastas but they still tend to raise my blood sugar so I don't eat them often. It can be frustrating to crave something so basic and have the no be so resounding so when I stumbled across shirataki noodles I hoped I'd hit pay dirt.

Shirataki noodles--the original version--are made with yam flour and have negligible carbs. For those who are gluten free, they're perfect for you, too.

I headed over to Mitsuwa Marketplace, which is the largest of the Japanese supermarket chains in San Diego and found myself dizzy with possibilities. Not only are there several brands with several choices of shirataki noodles (which are wet and in the refrigerated section of the market, near kimchi and tofu), but there's a whole other choice you can make--tofu shirataki, made with tofu and water with a little yam flour. And these, made by a company called House Foods, are going the extra distance with varieties in shapes like spaghetti, angel hair, macaroni, and fettuccine. Crazy! They also have no cholesterol, 0.5 grams of fat per serving, are extremely low in sodium, and are all of 20 calories per serving.

Now are they truly like wheat noodles in terms of flavor and texture? No. Let's not make them into something they're not. But if, like me, you've been craving traditional pasta and simply can't have it this is not a bad substitute. You can add them to soup; mix them up with vegetables, olive oil, and Parmesan cheese; make mac and cheese; or, as I did with my package of macaroni, add them to turkey chile.

The noodles have a distinct odor to them, acknowledged in the package's preparation directions. But all you need to do is rinse them under water, put them in a bowl, and heat them in the microwave for--get this--a minute. The smell goes away and you have warm noodles with a bit of chew to them and a neutral flavor. Ready for pretty much anything for which you'd use regular pasta.

Print Page

The Pleasure of Tea Seed Oil

When I visited the new Leaf & Kettle in Del Mar to see what the former owner of Halcyon Tea in South Park had created, I had no idea that not only would I be taking home my favorite sencha variety of tea, but also a bottle of culinary oil made from a plant is related to the one that is the source of tea leaves.

Tea seed oil derives from a small tree called Camellia oleifera. As such, it's also known as camellia oil. The tree is widely cultivated in China and its seeds are cold pressed to produce an oil that has a sweet, nutty flavor with a high smoke point.

The variety I found at Leaf & Kettle is produced by a California company called Arette. They have three basic varieties: an original, slightly pale version, a "Natural flavor" version, and one with "enhanced green tea aroma." Then there are several flavor-infused oils, with sundried tomatoes, chili pepper, basil and garlic oil; one with rosemary and sencha green tea, and a third with garlic oil and black pepper--all  of which Leaf & Kettle carry.

I tasted the two unflavored oils Leaf & Kettle sell. Both are lovely and a little understated. The original is quite neutral and perfect for when you just want the benefits of cooking oil, but don't want to add additional flavors. I was more taken by the "Natural" flavor, which had nuttier, more pronounced tones to it, not unlike a good mellow olive oil. That's the one I bought and have been enjoying. It works beautifully incorporated in a vinaigrette, used to sauté fish and other seafood, and at high heat to stir fry vegetables.

If you're looking for a way to make some little changes in your diet, tea seed oil is a good one, given that it has no cholesterol and is high in vitamin E.

Leaf & Kettle is located in the Del Mar Highlands shopping center at 12925 El Camino Real, Suite AA4.


Print Page

Homemade Applesauce with Cardamom, Cinnamon, and Brown Butter

Most of us know applesauce as something mild and nondescript to be spooned out of a bottle--or, if you're a kid, from a little plastic container in your school lunch bag. Me? I associate it with pork chops and potato latkes. I know. I know. But our family was never the most observant Jewish household in L.A.

If you've never attempted to make your own applesauce you should give it a try. First of all, it's ridiculously easy and tastes so much better than the jarred stuff. Second, by adding flavors you'd never have associated with so humble a dish you can elevate it into something actually memorable and irresistible. How about rosemary? Or savory? Or horseradish? Okay, how about brown butter, cardamom, or a liqueur, such as Calvados or Cointreau?

That's where I went. I had a refrigerator bin filled with a variety of traditional and heirloom apples--Caville Blancs, Golden Russets, Winesaps, Granny Smiths, Honey Crisps, and this gorgeous vibrant Hidden Rose--all of which I thought would be perfect for applesauce.

The Hidden Rose variety is grown at Dragon Berry Farm in Oregon and sold in San Diego at Specialty Produce.

What better dish to make on a chilly stormy Sunday when comfort food was on my mind. The result was a smooth, rich, even complex sauce I can't stop lapping up.

The basics are, well, pretty basic. If you have a food mill, you don't even have to peel the apples, just quarter and core them, and chop into one-inch pieces.

Toss into a large heavy pot, add water, some cinnamon sticks, cardamom seeds, brown sugar, and a dash of the liqueur. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to medium, and cook until the apples are soft and mushy.

You'll have sugary leftover liquid, which you can toss--or find a way to use, perhaps boil down to a syrup. Remove the cinnamon sticks. Then use a slotted spoon to move the solids little by little into the food mill and grind away into a bowl. No food mill? Peel the apples, follow the other directions, and when they're all cooked, put them in a food processor. Brown the butter and swirl it into the mixture. Before you know it, you'll have a stunning bowl of soulful applesauce. Eat it warm, add it to muffins or cakes. You can even freeze it for eating or baking with later.

Cardamom and Brown Butter Applesauce
Makes about six servings
(printable recipe)

3 pounds mixed variety of apples, cored and chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 1/2 cups water
2 tablespoons Calvados or Cointreau (optional)
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 sticks cinnamon
1 tablespoon cardamom seeds
1 tablespoons butter

Combine all ingredients except the butter in a large, heavy pot. Bring to a boil, stirring periodically. Reduce heat to medium and continue simmering (and stirring once in a while) until the apples turn soft and mushy--about 25 minutes.

Remove from heat and let cool. Remove the cinnamon sticks. While the applesauce cools, make the brown butter by heating the butter in a small saucepan or skillet on low to medium heat until the butter turns a soft brown--about three minutes. Remove from heat.

Using a large slotted spoon, scoop some of the apples into the food mill, set over a large mixing bowl. Turn the handle on the mill and work the apples through the mill, periodically scraping the sides to move the apples down to the blade and scraping the underside of the mill to get all the applesauce into the bowl. Continue scooping apples into the food mill and pureeing them until the pot is empty. Add the brown butter and mix well.

Applesauce can be frozen.

Print Page

Homemade Mustard Stocking Stuffers

I love making condiments, but have always been resistant for some reason to trying my hand with mustard. I grew up with the bright yellow stuff of French's. Not that it did anything for me, but it was the mustard du jour of the 60s. And, of course, there was the classic spicy deli mustard, Ba-Tampte, which was perfect for salami sandwiches, Hebrew National hotdogs and knockwurst, and corned beef and pastrami. Then in the late 80s, there were the inimitable commercials for Grey Poupon. You know, the ones with the two hoity-toity men in their Rolls Royces ever so politely exchanging those rounded glass jars. Mustard became aspirational. Became lifestyle. And within a decade or so emerged new artisinal trends, and soon we had all sorts of flavored mustards--made with raspberry and chilis and honey and garlic--and whatever anyone could think of.

Enter my friends at SoNo Trading Company--Zach Negin and James Magnatta--who launched their company a few years ago, initially selling their luscious flavor-packed mustards at several farmers markets. Now they've eschewed the farmers markets for distribution at places like Whole Foods, Dean & Deluca, Venissimo, and others, narrowing their flavors to three favorites: Whole Grain, Champagne Garlic, and Hong Kong Habanero. They're fabulous. And, the guys are also great teachers. Recently, Zach, who now lives in L.A. and teaches at the Institute of Domestic Technology, spent an evening with my Les Dames d'Escoffier chapter at The Wild Thyme Company, teaching us the secrets and techniques to making both mustard and lacto-fermented ketchup. The class was a blast and turned all of us into mustard- and ketchup-making fiends. Including me.

Around the large grouping of tables were bottles, jars, and containers of all sorts of potential flavorings--molasses, kona coffee, pomegranate syrup, citrus zest, nutmeg, allspice, and even grapefruit bitters. We learned from Zach that Canada is the biggest exporter of mustard seeds and that the easy little secret to Chinese mustard is blending ground mustard (like Coleman's) with a little water. Water brings out the heat, says Zach.

We toyed around with both yellow and brown seeds before getting started with some that Zach already pre-soaked.

The process itself is quite simple--but you can easily get into trouble. You have a proportion of liquid to solids--1 1/2 cups mustard seeds to 20 ounces of liquid. That's not the issue. It's all those flavor choices. Do horseradish and citrus zest really work well together? Maybe. Maybe not. Did we have too heavy a hand with the nutmeg? Did we get carried away and use too many flavorings and muddy the results? In other words, sure, be daring, but be also be respectful of the power of the flavors and combinations you choose. You could have a real winner or something your gift recipients will spit out.

Flor Franco and Maria Gomez mixing up their mustard flavors

So, back to the process. Essentially, you'll measure out your basics--mustard seeds and liquid--along with salt, and other flavorings. They'll soak in a nonreactive mixing bowl at room temperature for a few days to soften the seeds and meld the flavors. Then you grind it all together, transfer to a jar and cover. That's it. You'll want to keep open jars refrigerated.

Marie Kelley with her just-ground mustard.

And my selected flavorings? I went with honey, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, Kona coffee, and chipotle powder. Delicious!

Below is Zach's recipe. He's got a lovely flavor profile here with what I'd call baking ingredients. Use those or sub out your own. And, the beer is a great addition, but you can just as readily use water, wine, or fruit juice if you like.


Zach Negin's Homemade Mustard
(printable recipe)
Makes 2, 6-ounce jars

12 ounce bottle of Guinness Extra Stout (or wine, juice, water...)
1 1/2 cups mustard seeds (10 ounces), brown or yellow
1 cup red wine vinegar (or sherry, infused vinegar, apple cider vinegar -- not distilled)
2 1/2 ounces brewed espresso or 8 grams finely ground espresso beans
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons ground cardamom
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice

1. Combine ingredients in a nonreactive mixing bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature for two to four days so that the mustard seeds soften and the flavors meld.
2. Transfer the mixture to the bowl of a food processor and process. Or grind by hand with a mortar and pestle. Stop occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula until the seeds are coarsely ground and the mixture thickens, about three minutes. Transfer to a jar and cover.
3. Refrigerate overnight and use immediately or refrigerate for up to six months. (The flavor of the mustard will mellow as the condiment ages.)

Print Page

The Ultimate Adult Holiday Milkshakes

Three adult shakes: (l to r) Chocolate Cherry Pinot Noir, Egg Nog, and Dulce de Leche

One of my favorite holiday treats is eggnog. But I know there are so many people who cringe at the thought of it. So, when I learned that The Counter, the custom-built burger chain, makes "adult" milkshakes, including shakes with wine or with eggnog flavoring, I had to learn more and find out how they do it. Really, wouldn't these be fun to serve at holiday parties?

So, last week I had a mini milkshake seminar with Casey Bushrod, a supervisor and counter server at the downtown restaurant on 6th at G. Casey made me three shakes--and gave me the recipes.

The shakes are simple. No surprise there. And they open themselves up to riffing. So, use these recipes as your template and have fun. And, remember, that the suggested alcohol--both in content and amount--is just that. A suggestion. No alcohol? No problem. A little more or less? Sure, just make sure you keep the ingredients proportional. And, to make the blending easier, let the ice cream soften just a little.

Let's start with the Egg Nog. If you love traditional egg nog, you'll adore this chilly adaptation. You can certainly have a "virgin" version, but the spiced rum adds even more richness to the drink, and a real warmth inside your soul.

Egg Nog Milkshake
Makes 1, 20-ounce shake

12.5 ounces vanilla ice cream
1 cup egg nog
1/2 teaspoon egg nog spice mix or pumpkin pie spice mix (or ground cinnamon)
Whipped cream

If you're adding alcohol, the proportions change:
10 ounces vanilla ice cream
1 cup egg nog
2 ounces spiced rum, like Sailor Jerry

Add all the ingredients but the spice mix and whipped cream to a blender and blend until thoroughly combined. Pour into a 20-ounce glass tumbler. Dispense the whipped cream in a spiral motion. Sprinkle the spice mix onto the whipped cream.

Next up, Dulce de Leche. This creamy, caramel-ly drink is actually rather soothing--no doubt helped by the Baileys. It goes down like a dream.

Dulce de Leche Milkshake
Makes 1, 16-ounce shake

10 ounces vanilla ice cream
2 ounces Baileys Caramel Irish Cream
1 ounce caramel
2 ounces whipped cream

Add the ice cream, Irish Cream, and caramel to the blender and blend until the ingredients are thoroughly combined. Pour into a 16-ounce glass. Pipe with whipped cream and drizzle on more caramel.

And, finally, a stunner of a shake, the Chocolate Cherry Pinot Noir. I actually had this earlier at The Counter with a burger and fries. My friend Trish and I had just little tasters and it was all we could do not to down the tasters in one gulp and then ask for more. It's like the ultimate black cherry soda only a huge leap better. Who knew wine could be so perfect an ingredient in a shake? Surprise your friends with this one.

Chocolate Cherry Pinot Noir Milkshake
Makes 1, 16-ounce shake

8 ounces vanilla ice cream
3 ounces Pinot Noir
2 ounces cherry pie filling (although you can also mash maraschino cherries)
1 ounce U-Bet chocolate syrup
4 ounces whipped cream

Add ice cream, wine, cherries, and chocolate to a blender pitcher and blend until all ingredients are thoroughly combined. Pour into a 16-ounce glass and garnish with whipped cream spiral. Top with a Maraschino cherry.

Print Page

Smokey Turkey Chile

Comfort food comes in many forms. For some of us it's Mom's chicken noodle soup or mashed potatoes. For others it's roast chicken or mac 'n cheese or chocolate layer cake. For me, at this time of year, comfort comes cradled in a bowl. It could be mushroom barley soup, Hatch chile pork stew, or a batch of turkey chile. Last weekend, I opted for the turkey chile.

This turkey chile is a descendant of a lovely red chile stew created by Alice Robertson of Alice Q. Foodie. I had made some changes to Alice's recipe, as we all tend to do with recipes we love to make them our own. Instead of cubed beef and pork I used ground and then segued to lean ground turkey and eliminated the beer (that whole weight loss thing, remember?), also adding the fresh Hatch chiles I buy annually to roast and freeze, or canned chipotles in adobo.

What I was looking for was a subtle smokiness that both add that could compensate for the flavors lost by eliminating the richer meats and the beer. But what was most compelling about Alice's recipe actually was the spice mixture and that I've pretty much kept intact. The cocoa powder and cinnamon give a lush depth to the chile and there's that smokiness again with the New Mexico (or Chimayo) chili powder.

This is a distinctive regional chili I fell in love with many years ago while visiting Santa Fe one November. In fact, one morning I drove over to the little village of Chimayo just outside of Santa Fe in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo mountains where the chili is grown, and was mesmerized by the sweet, smoky scent that permeates the region when the farmers roast the harvested chilis in their clay ovens. I also took a cooking class at the Santa Fe School of Cooking that week. They sell a line of regional food products, including this rare Chimayo chili powder and New Mexico red chili powder, both of which I continue to purchase and recommend.

The tomatoes also make a difference in the chile's flavor and texture, and this time of year using canned tomatoes is preferable to fresh. I like to use the Muir Glen organic fire-roasted tomatoes to get an even bigger bang of flavor. Use both crushed and diced to mix up the textures.

The chile freezes well. This recipe makes about four servings, but you can easily double it and put some away for a rainy night when you don't feel like cooking.

Turkey Chile
Adapted from Alice Q. Foodie's Red Chile Stew
(printable recipe)
Serves 4

Spice Mixture:
1 tablespoon medium heat Chimayo or New Mexico red chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/3 teaspoon finely ground black pepper

Chile:
1/4 cup olive or vegetable oil
1 1/2 pounds lean ground turkey
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 - 4 peeled and seeded roasted Hatch chiles or 2 chipotles in adobo sauce, chopped
3/4 cup water
1, 14-ounce can crushed tomatoes
1, 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 14-ounce can pinto, black, or kidney beans, drained and rinsed

Mix together the chili powder, cumin, cocoa powder, cinnamon, sugar, oregano, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. Set aside.

Heat a large pot and add the oil. Then add the onion and garlic, and saute until soft. Add the ground turkey, breaking it up with a wooden spoon. Let it brown and then add the spice mixture. Stir to coat until the spices are fully incorporated. Saute for about two minutes.

Add the chopped chiles, tomatoes, and water. Bring to a boil. Reduce to simmer and cook uncovered for two hours. Add the beans and simmer for another hour, covered, so the flavors intensify. Stir periodically and add a little more liquid if necessary to keep the consistency as you want it.

Take the pot off the heat and adjust the seasonings to taste. You can serve it now, but it will be even better the next day so, if possible, let cool and refrigerate for a day or two. Remove the fat from the top and discard, then reheat. You can serve the chile with corn tortillas or cornbread, or over chopped lettuce. Top with chopped red onions and sour cream, or shredded cheddar cheese, or crumbled queso fresca. Now you have comfort in a bowl.

Print Page