Month: July 2012

Soba at Home

Last week I owned up to my obsession with and quest for great soba in Japan. Prior to this trip, I’d been satisfied with dried soba from the Asian section of Fairway Market. Now, however, I’m like those Italian food snobs who shun anything but handmade pastas. I want my noodles fresh and unprocessed. I want my noodles made by hand. With a copy of Takashi Yagihashi’s Takashi’s Noodles spread out on my kitchen counter I set out to create soba. Yagihashi’s clear directions and illustrative, color photographs made it seem easy. After all, the recipe only required three ingredients and a bit of kneading. How hard could it be? I quickly realized that, as with pasta, soba making is an art that I wouldn’t master on the first or second try. Ingredients were one obstacle. Buckwheat flour is not as elastic as other flours; it doesn’t contain gluten, a necessary component for stretchiness. To compensate for this absence, cooks often use a ratio of 20% gluten-rich whole wheat flour and 80% buckwheat flour in …

Searching for Soba

When I told friends that I’d be traveling to Japan last month, the first or, depending on the person’s love of manga, Godzilla movies or Hello Kitty, second thing mentioned was sushi. Eyes lit up with thoughts of velvety, coral-colored toro blanketing perfectly made beds of vinegared white rice. Although I love sushi, I had a different culinary mission for Japan. As soon as the plane touched down in Tokyo, I went on a hunt for soba. The name for the thin, grayish-tan noodles as well as the buckwheat flour from which they’re made, soba has long been a favorite food. It has a warm, earthy flavor, nutty aroma and firm texture that I adore. I likewise appreciate that it can be eaten hot or cold, with or without stocks or sauces and on its own or with meats, herbs and/or vegetables atop it. Plus, it’s loaded with nutrients and a decent source of vitamins B, C and E and protein. What’s not to love? Once in Japan, I didn’t have to look long or …

Beans, Beans, Beans

If you follow Kitchen Kat, you may recall the rocky beginnings that I’ve had with baked potatoes, fish and peas. Add to that list green beans. Beans suffered the same fate as the other troublesome foods. They were crisp and green in the afternoon, when my mother and I sat in the backyard, snapping off the uneven ends and tossing the trimmed veggies into colanders. By dinnertime they had become squishy and bland, the result of an hour spent bubbling away in a stockpot. Complaints about texture and flavor led to the addition of ham to the pot. Instead of rectifying the problem ham only added to it. Now, rather than just limp, tasteless beans I also had to slip hunks of tough, grayish meat to the family dog. Mushy beans she could handle. Leathery ham? Not so much. Eventually canned beans replaced fresh. Although canned vegetables wouldn’t normally be a treat, these particular ones were. To dress up the beans’ drab look and flavor, my mother would stir in a dollop of Cheez Whiz …

The Hidden Charm of Durian

Travel to far-flung locations and you’re bound to encounter extraordinary food. Although I tend to skip the more offbeat or infamous dishes—crickets on a stick, deep-fried chicken feet—I invariably try all the local produce. Yeah, I’m a risk taker. Produce may not seem all that exciting until you consider the spiky, hard-shelled durian fruit. Native to Malaysia and found in tall trees, it’s known for its tough exterior, custardy interior and horrific odor. If its overpowering scent doesn’t get you, its size and sharp spikes might. Weighing up to 10 pounds, falling durian has caused serious injuries and death. Thanks to its tough reputation, durian ranked high as a food that I had to try. Anything that smelled of rotten cheese, stinky feet and raw sewage and could kill and yet was still willingly, even eagerly, consumed must be good. While durian will never replace bananas, raspberries or cantaloupe as my favorite fruit, it does have its charms. Its sticky, yellow pulp possesses a warm, nutty, creamy flavor unlike any other produce. Versatile, it pairs …