Tofu Or Not Tofu...That Is The Question

Tofurkey,

Well, we're almost at the end of our trip here in Japan and I'm finally getting time to blog. It has been an unbelievable (and unbelievably busy) journey, but I have thought about you at every delicious meal (and then some).

While there is so much good food to blog about (and I hope to get to all of it in my next few posts), our last major included a few meals that stood out. You see, right now we're staying in Mt. Koya, the home of Japanese Shingon Bhuddism. In fact, we're staying in a Shukubo, a Bhuddist temple where monks permit visitors to stay. Not only that, but you can pray with them, learn from them, and eat breakfast and dinner that they bring you. But since Bhuddists believe that it is wrong to kill another sentient being, we have only eaten vegetarian food since arriving (shhh...don't tell but I snuck some sushi for lunch from a shop in the village).

So of course the culinary experience here especially reminds me of you and how much you'd enjoy it. We have too. The food is delicious, which isn't a big surprise. These guys have had over 1000 years to get tofu down.




From left to right, top to bottom: goma-dofu (sesame tofu)
with wasabi and soy sauce, vegetable tempura with wasabi
salt,seawead salad, pickled radish, and some kind of clear soup
with colorful croutons and cilantro.

Not only was the food delicious, but it was also beautiful, as you can see. The Bhuddist vegetarian cuisine here, which came from China, is called the Shojin Ryori and has been perfected by the monks here in Koyasan. It is actually vegan and is based on the number five: five flavors, five cooking methods, and five colors (which I think stretches it because there are way more than five colors there). A good meal includes a grilled dish, a deep-fried dish, a pickled dish, a tofu dish, and a soup dish.

 

The goma-dofu was especially interesting. It's made of roasted and ground white sesame seeds boiled together with powdered arrowroot starch. And it's crazy smooth. I mean like butter (even like buttah). Here's the rest of the first night's dinner:

 

From left to right, top to bottom: devil's tongue noodles with
broth and vegetables, koya-dofu (freeze-dried tofu), and some
kind of fragrant melon.



The noodles in this dish are made from a vegetable called Devil's Tongue. It is banned in the U.S. because people have been known to die from eating it, at least according to my boyfriend's colleague. It is often served in cubes which have a very stiff gelatinous texture and so, if not chewed properly, they can become lodged in a person's throat causing him to choke to death. This dish, however, was delicious and death-free. Double win.

 

Not so the koya-dofu. I'd have been very interested to see if you and your husband liked this dish. As you know, it has proven impossible thesee days to find something I will not eat, and almost as difficult to find something I can't appreciate. This certainly fits the latter category and was the only thing I've been served in Japan (since the first night; more to follow in another post) that I abstained from eating. This dish is like a sponge of tofu soaking in water. No seriously. It is literally a sponge. It is so bizarre that I was not surprised to learn that it has many explanations for how it came to be. One is that almost a millenium ago, some tofu froze by accident and when thawed turned out to be delicious. This explanation neglects to mention that the meal was eaten by starving monks in some kind of drug-induced nirvana. This is not delicious. Still, it was interesting.

 

Here was our breakfast the next morning:

 

From left to right, top to bottom: koya-dofu (but with
vegetables in it; this was not bad), nori, some kind of stewed
vegetable salad, pickles, white rice, black tea, and miso soup.



First of all, the miso in Japan has been delicious without exception. This was especially good. The same has been true of the rice. I've never cared much for white rice. It's seemed unremarkable. Like a lot of pasta, it's a vehicle for bigger and better things. But also like pasta, there is such a good thing as white rice worth savoring apparently. Our Japanese friend Akiko told us that we were right in rice harvest season so now is the time for "good rice." She said that Japanese people look forward to this because the rice is more flavorful, more tender. Well I believe it. I have eaten this stuff plain at every meal.

 

Here was tonight's dinner:

From left to right, top to bottom: goma-dofu, grilled eggplant
and pepper with plum sauce, seaweed salad, pickles, white rice,
black tea, and the same clear soup from before.

From left to right, top to bottom: purple grapes, boiled
vegetables and koya-dofu squares, udon noodles with seaweed
and tofu.



So I don't think you can tell from this picture, but Japanese grapes are huge. They're probably twice the size of the grapes we get at home, and they have a strange cooked or fermented taste to them I think. They're good but different.

 

So is fast food. The Udon noodles for dinner reminded me of some we had in Kyoto before we left. I'll tell you about them as a preview to my next posts on some city food.

 

Akiko kept telling us about "business men's lunches," which seemed to us like Japanese fast food. It's served in little shops where you eat at the counter. Like everything in Japan, it's efficient. The stations at the counter have jars of pickles, soy sauce, and other seasoning, as well as chopsticks ready for you when you sit down. But first, you order...

 

A Japanese food-ordering device

Basically, you pick out what you want on a menu, go up to this machine, put money in, and press the button for what you want. Out pops a ticket. Meanwhile, the computer in the back shouts out what you want to the poor girl working her butt off (who stops to help you if you're obviously a white kid in a strange land). She takes your ticket with a smile and brings your food back in a few minutes with another smile. It's as plentiful as American fast food, but tasty in a not-going-to-turn-you-into-a-chemical-ridden-death-timer. We ate there twice.

More to follow. I love you,
Turkey