The Eloquent Don

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuum. Ok, so ngl I don’t know too much about Korean food and this was the first Korean dish I ever made but it was SOOOO tasty and comforting. Definitely backing a further exploration of Korean dishes. This all came about because one of my very kind and generous classmates made our whole class kimchi and even sealed it in this super profesh packaging with the ziplock and everything. This time round, I felt like rather than just eating the kimchi straight out the pack which is always 100% the most tempting thing to do, I would commit to the kimchi long haul and actually cook something with it. I was super tired though, so thought kimchi fried rice would be a solid compromise between cooking and not having to stretch myself tooooo much.

I had to buy gochujang, which is maybe the most intriguing and possibly even my new favourite ingredient as it blends the spiciness of red chilis with the salty-savoury tanginess of fermented soybean, glutinous rice and salt. In its final and ~perfected~ state, it has this spicy earthiness that bears some semblance to sriracha but with BASS. and not simply... just BASS... but BASS FOR DAYS. I wasn’t actually going to buy the gochujang though because I thought I would have to go to Loo Fung which is MISSIONS and as I said, I was tired. HOWEVER, HOWEVER, I got off the bus from work on Barking Road and had to go shops to get some milk and just chanced upon Miah’s Oriental Foods, a specialist shop literally 5 mins away from home that sells anything and everything I could ever need and for pretty cheap! I actually found the variety of things I could buy - and so locally - completely shocking. This shop is amazing. Actually, the cluster of shops on this part of Barking Road (where the giant specialist Doctor Who shop is lol) are all pretty sick and unique. In addition to shops already mentioned, there’s Newham Bookshop, the Q in Food Centre which is one of those standard international (mostly Turkish/East European) supermarkets that also sell fresh Turkish bread/pastries, Boleyn Cinema (which exclusively plays South Asian cinema), the Boleyn Tavern (which was apparently visited by Gandhi in 1931 and is currently being refurbished with guidance from the Victorian Society, which is very awesome) and many more, with the World Cup Sculpture just a few minutes away. And that’s just a small bit of Barking Road... let alone the rest of it and the phenomena that is Green Street next to it. Big up Newham!

Anyway, back to the bokkeumbap - so this was one night I devoted to just chilling, I realised that I couldn’t remember the last time I had ~ just chilled ~ so I decided to FINALLY watch Parasite (and also after that like... a seasons worth of The Good Place where at some point I sadly passed out) so this dish had to be good. I had to make the rice from scratch which unfortunately does not suit fried rice very well, as it’s best if the rice is a bit stale and dry but oh well. The recipe I used advised me to massage the rice with sesame oil, so that was ... definitely an experience. I’m sure you can picture my impatient ass massaging this rice that is literally burning me, my hands an oily rice-laden scalding mess. But alas, it’s like they say, no bees no honey. (I actually don’t think I have ever heard anyone say that)

Another interesting step was having to for real juice the kimchi. As you want to be able to brown the kimchi cabbage (like onions), the best thing to do is juice it first and then pour the juices on the rice later. So yeah, litch had to juice 1/4 cups worth of kimchi juice from the kimchi. This is what it looked like. Very nice. To this, I mixed in the gochujang and soy sauce.

The cooking process begins when you take the sorry looking lifeless kimchi that U literally CHOKED to death and start frying it in the pot. Like you can actually see the green of the cabbage again which is like a weird modern-day-consumer-divorced-from-the-realities-of-production type of reality shock like o u were an actual vegetable before you became kimchi, hello....... (Obviously in some part of my brain, I knew kimchi was made of cabbage but sometimes you don’t properly deep it... like you deep it on surface level, but not properly because like many products you buy, you didn’t play any part in the production process, you just bought it ready made from the shop so there’s just a disconnect... the dumbest way this played out was me googling ‘kimchi and cabbage fried rice recipe’ because I wanted to use the cabbage in my fridge....but obviously nothing come up because who else would be such an IDIOT SANDWICH ? No one. that’s who.)

After the kimchi turns that sexy brown à la Maillard, you kinda do your toppings thing. I added mushrooms of course, I think I have actually added mushrooms to every (non-South Asian) recipe I have cooked you know... and if I haven’t I bet I wanted to. I also added tofu, spring onions and toasted seaweed, and then at the end I added toasted sesame seeds. Then in goes the rice and after that, the kimchi juice-gochujang alliance. The medley of smells from the kimchi, gochujang and sesame oil all frying so intensely together was a really rewarding experience. I think I have always felt so insecure about cooking out of my comfort zone, and especially East Asian foods because the methods and ingredients are so different and a bit confusing, but I am beginning to realise that........... it’s really not that deep and I can just figure it out and learn as I go. And there is literally a wealth of really useful websites. And youtube. duh. 

So, on the first day I cooked it I decided to eat it with fried egg. The bokkeumbap came out a little bit mushy because the rice was too fresh I think.

The next day however, upon reading a tip about how some of the rice should be slightly burnt, when I refried the leftovers I let it sit for a few minutes on a medium heat so the bottom of the rice would burn like some Korean tahdig. It was an excellent tip and switched up the texture in a very big way. I also fried an egg into the mix. I think the fried egg with the yolk oozing into the rice works best though, that oooooooooze, how can you beat that ooze? In Japan, at an izakaya a friend took me to, they literally gave us egg yolk to dip meat into. It was ridiculous. (in the best possible way). 

ummmm so today was wicked because I made a miso soup from scratch; obviously not so marvellous for those well accustomed to doing this all the time lol however for a noob like me who was yet to harness the gangster umami power of dashi, this journey was in-cred-ib-le!!!!!! 

I also think the contrivance of miso soup at this point in my life is a sure sign of growth and maturation (i am not a cheese i swear). You see, I had bought the kombu at least....3 or 4 years ago? (I have had these sheets of kombu THESE LITERAL STRATA OF UMAMI in my cupboard for SO LONG) because I had bought a jar of miso thinking I could just up and add water to miso to make miso soup but then upon realising that i was a complete IDIOT SANDWICH for thinking this, the internet informed me that I needed kombu. So, ordered the kombu, got them in the post and literally. had no idea. what I was supposed to do. with these literal slabs of brittle ocean cracker ... so I did what ya do when confronted with a situation you can’t be arsed to deal with... I left it to my older self to figure out. well it’s ya girl OLDER ME and I DID IT. (this is how younger me and present ~older~ me communicate, this happens literally all the time)

So, the recipe I used which was this one: https://justhungry.com/handbook/cooking-courses/japanese-cooking-101-lesson-1a-making-miso-soup-clear-soup only added potato and wakame as a topping, but at the moment I am living by myself which means I need to always be finishing off vegetables and ingredients and that, so I added a potato and mushrooms and tofu (actually I bought all those topping for this today, what am i talking about? lmao) - anyway, due to these toppings for days, my soup was full to the brim. Tell me dear reader, is there anything more satisfying than a soup overwhelmed with delicious toppings........ I thought not. 

So the first step was extracting (HARNESSING, EMBODYING, BECOMING) la puissance of the kombu... after that you add the katsuobushi (bonito flakes) which is dried/fermented/smoked skipjack tuna - 15 whole gram o that to the hot steaming dashi broth; it was actually kind of beautiful to watch the bonito flakes dance to the rhythm of their own glorious demise...... yes. yeeeesssss. that’s the broth sorted. Froze the katsuobushi and kombu remains to make into furikake later (furikake appreciation post soon come!)

After that came the boiling of potatoes in the dashi broth, and addition of all the rest of the toppings, the most fun of which was WAKAME. I am so familiar with eating wakame, but this was my first time cooking with it and it was SO GREAT. they are dry and so small in the packet, but when they are reconstituted with water they quickly become huuuuuuge and yummy, it’s really hard to believe they were just a lil dry piece of fleck 2 seconds ago! 

I used brown rice miso hence the deep brown colour of the soup and luckily thanks to the great and detailed instructions (of Maki at Just Hungry), the soup was very oishii! This is me almost too happy about everything going on, but also whilst trying to take a selfie definitely burning my onions in a different pan.... (you know what, shout out to my tesco surface wipes!)

When I was working on a farm near Otaru in Hokkaido, my hosts frequently made miso soup - this was where the gaijin that is me learnt that miso soup is so much more... IMMENSE! than the variety you get at restaurants or supermarkets. My hosts’ children would always add tonyu (soy milk) to their miso soup which initially seemed like the most bizarre thing, but after about 3 seconds of processing it (it never takes long...), my curiosity got the better of me and I tried it myself.... and... somehow it just.... worked. In fact, not only did it work, but it transformed the soup into a different just-as-if-not-more tasty dish! I don’t really drink soya milk in this country, but I had oat milk in the fridge so I tried it with oat milk and the effect was the same! Except even creamier! 

Alright so... this was meant to be a blog about my gastro-quest of Japan, but I got kind of busy and distracted while I was out there and as usual didn’t stick to the plan (typisch) ... However, while I am back home in London I would like to try and blog my cooking and eating experiences. I set myself the ~ Dishoom Challenge ~ a few months ago after a friend bought me the cookbook for my birthday, but again, got mega busy with my Masters, so that ship just crashed and burned too, it’s really sad!!! 

A friend told me that my challenge idea reminded them of ‘Julie and Julia’ so I watched it last night and ngl that BD-Meryl/Julia-E gave me all the life and inspiration I needed to feel hella reinvigorated to do this blog thing again to my zero listeners out there, so let’s just ganbaru and do this!  I am not too sure what this blog will be, or what shape it will take or if it will have any consistency whatsoever, but let’s just have fun! 

Ya know what. Sometimes you jus gotta hit up the local Yoshinoya and live your truth. And that’s what I did this morning . Yoshinoya is a really old (est. 1899) and massive chain of diners in Japan that serves cheap food from breakfast till like 3am, I mean it’s pretty standard fare but standard fare in Japan is still nang (nang you know!). I think it’s mostly a gyudon (beef rice bowl) restaurant but they also serve fish and other things... aesthetically, the closest thing I can compare it to in the UK is Wimpy.

It’s half 5 in the morning. I don’t know why but I keep having really unsettling dreams, but at least in one of them I meet a hooded Shahrukh Khan in the park chilling incognito but I clock him obviously cause My dream self is jus certy like that , I tell him that I am a big fan of his work and he is appreciative, we do the anjali Rahul handshake, I mess it up at the end but it was all very endearing on my part.

Anyway I decide to not go back to sleep because some girl is snoring and the dorm room smells like alcohol dappled sweat (shout outs to you Gerard Manley!)... I have a tea, I do some Japanese and check what joints are open because meh neeeeeed a coffee - tea is decorative, coffee is practical - but everything opens at 10? Naze?????

...But what’s this? Almost out of nowhere, a memory. A memory ? What memory? A memory of joy. A memory of hope. A memory that smelt of spring, that felt like nostalgia, a memory that resonated with every cell of my body n had them crying out ‘is that u yeah? MY g!’ ... The memory. Of walking past. Yoshinoya yesterday . Yes..... yoshinoya will be open, I hypothesise to myself in that stanky n getting stankier by the minute to be quite frank dorm room.

So off I trot (what’s the past tense... trat?), Arthur style to Yoshinoya, yes. The thought of having a meal at Yoshinoya was becoming increasingly appealing the closer I got . And do you know why? Do you? Well . Let me elucidate the ting. Say hello to my little friend, Natto* .

Natto is why. Natto is always why.

NATTO. Oh Natto, the humble Natto, how many times have I thought about you whilst exiled in London, lying on my bed reminiscing to myself about all the great dishes I have eaten. Natto you are a friend, in fact, you are more than a friend you are a beloved.

I sat myself down at the Yoshinoya and all these memories of being In Japan two years ago flooded in, is Natto the nouveau madeleine? Maybe. Am I Proust? No. But I have been known to put pen to paper, and let me tell you, before I even ordered the Natto all the memories rushed in. Of being in a quaint supermarket diner in the mountains of sleepy Aso with Leila and Jon, of preparing our own Natto and crab breakfasts at Erika san’s house in Kyoto, of going back to Kyoto and doing the same at Chikyugo Earthship to the bewilderment of my hosts and fellow guests ... so many fond memories attached to you my little bean friend.

I never forgot about you. Every time I went to Japan Center in London , I would go to the fridge/freezer section and just stare at you through the glass, like a kid in those Christmas films looking through the frosted windows at the toy store, staring desperately at the toy they really wanted but knew they couldn’t have.. cause import tax is a b...loody hindrance..... it was the same feeling! And now here we are, reunited at last.

I ordered the food and it arrived like 30 seconds later. yoshi - ya dun kno - ya! I ordered a Natto teishoku (Natto set breakfast) which included salmon, miso soup, rice, salad, natto and raw egg (for about £4). I sluiced that raw egg into the rice quick time and gave it a mix and a chance to cook a little bit in the heat of the rice. I then cracked open that Natto packaging ~glow~ , poured the soy sauce and Karashi (haha it autocorrected to Karachi... different world, that) mustard on top, and accoutred with the finest Yoshinoya chopsticks I got to stirring the Natto rapidly... the goo materialised immediately, oh the goo - how slimy, how repulsive, how.... enchanting? I let that goo beguile me for a hot sec and then poured it on top of the rice. Then, I mixed the Natto and rice, and finally, I added pieces of salmon ....

(Sorry, this is half eaten....)

C’est l’harmonie mes amis, c’est la vérité...

I mean I can’t lie it was a bit messy Natto really do be gooey and stringy out here, but that somewhat element of horror ends up heightening the experience of eating the dish, at least for me. Morbid consumption. I like it.

Arigatou gozaimashita Yoshinoya for never disappointing me, for being real, for always being a beacon of light, shining.. shining.... and arigatou to you, the quiet Natto, the good-willed Natto, the dandere of the bean world ...

*WHAT IS NATTO?

In a manner of speaking I am addressing the title of this post to myself… you see ~ flash back moment ~ I spent the last 6 months eating my fair (I say fair… it was way more than fair to be fair…more like copiously superabundant) share of abura soba*, because in order to get to Japan I had to pay the troll toll n grind whatever was left of the joy and tenderness of my youth away in a ramen restaurant, a touch dramatically put you may think, but you weren’t there. Anyway, I ate so many abura sobas, I grew to hate the abura soba and everything it represented. The once oh so slaver-worthy raw minced garlic turned into this stifling and possessive Gollum of a flavour, the soba tasted wack and too tangy, the portion was ron measly – gonna stop there because I don’t want to throw too much shade on my ex-employer. But ultimately. It felt like the chefs were following a formula, but didn’t really care about respecting the dish. Sad. Even though I ate it loads and loads of times (I don’t eat pork so abura soba minus the chashu was the best option for me at work), I never thought it was delicious, like it never hit the oishi ~twinkle~ swoon mark and the flavours always left a bad taste in my mouth afterwards. So I just thought abura soba was mank and left it at that. BUT I WAS A FOOL.

It’s a rainy Tuesday night in Tokyo. I left London exactly a night ago. Actually, I don’t know if it was exactly a night ago because of the time difference, but ya zimmie lol. By 11pm, I have finally checked into the hostel, drunk a matcha kahlua, and despite what feels like having eaten an eternity’s worth of airplane meals, I am starving. The hostel recommend a local ramen joint (triggered on the get) and as I am too weak to venture any further, off I flounder to find it.

BANNINRIKI 万人力 1 Chome-24-2 Iriya, Taito City, Tokyo 110-0013

I walk in. I am immediately baffed because I forgot how to use the self-service machines. After about 9.5 seconds worth of dithering, a fellow igirisujin detected a nearby gaijin in distress and advised me to order the medium sized abura soba with extra toppings (￥1000). I exclaimed, no NO! DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO THAT PLACE ok I didn’t but I did say I had been eating abura soba all year and wasn’t feeling it. He insisted ~multiple times~ that this was the one, it was the ONE and that this restaurant had won whole AWARDS for their craft. So I decided to trust the man. I didn’t know him but I knew he wouldn’t lie to me. I ordered it and sat myself down at the counter. Ah, the ramen bar. I didn’t realise how much I had missed it until I was back in the place. And so there I waited. Waited to the sounds of a Japanese classical jazz fusion cover of Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake it Off,’ to the celebrated sounds of the slurp (if I was a minimalist composer, I would make a track that sampled slurps and call it slurp riddim), to the sounds of the abridged gochisosama deshita (gchsmadeshita), irashaimase (shmseee), arigato gozaimasu (gzaimaaas). Oh, it was there I waited. And then it came.

(I should have taken more photos in hindsight, but alas.)

Firstly, the angel (I was so hungry the lady had an ethereal glow) placed numerous small dishes of toppings stacked on top of each other. These were nori (seaweed), spring onions, an onsen tamago (a very runny boiled egg) and menma (lactate-fermented bamboo shoots). She also gave me a bowl of moyashi (beansprouts), and indicated that I should pour soy sauce on top. Finally, she arrived with a bowl of noodles and instructed me to add vinegar and chilli oil to my heart’s content. She also kindly handed me a sheet explaining what do. Bruv, let me tell you, I went for it. I grinded almonds into it, salt bae’d ground peanuts onto it, swooshed that chilli oil n vinegar 2 time, and the garlic… the garlic… I don’t know what they do to their garlic but it felt like when Gandalf comes back from fighting balrog and becomes Gandalf the white, like lifting the lid of the pot of garlic I felt a strong burst of pure light shine out I know I compared the garlic to Gollum before so am mixing up my analogies but u know what. I don’t care. It was like that Gollum/Gandalf the grey garlic from the place I worked at … literally… yammed a leaf stone and evolved into some venasaur (dem multi-layered analogies!!!).

Anyway. I added all my toppings and the sauces and everything to the noodles, gave it a yung mix ~cue breath of the wild cooking music~ and poof! The most incredible abura soba!!! I didn’t know abura soba could taste like this. The unity and balance of flavours between sour, spicy and salty, the flavor of the yolk coming through every now and again, with every bite I took it for real left me wanting more, and rather than  feeling bloated I ended up feeling quite invigorated?  What’s more is that you can really tell that the chefs care and respect the dish in the way it deserves to be. It kinda felt like it didn’t matter how many toppings/how much sauce I added to the dish, it was constantly and consistently incredibly delicious which was a very surreal feeling. 

Arigatou gozaimashita BANNINRIKI for the great food and hospitality and for changing my mind about abura soba!

*WHAT IS ABURA SOBA?

Abura Soba is brothless ramen or oil ramen; the broth of the ramen is replaced with oil and vinegar. Toppings are added on top of the noodles and then everything is mixed together. As Abura Soba is brothless, it is considered a healthier option.