Thursday, January 29, 2004
How much is "polishing the apple" worth?
On a recent TV show, $50,000!
It's the Japanese version of that show with "is that your final answer?" By the way, they've kept fie-nah-rue ahn-sah-rue (final answer) although the rest of the phrase has gotten lost.
The question was what "goma suru" translates to in English. The Japanese phrase literally means grinding sesame seeds. It's often accompanied by a cupped hand as though holding a bowl, with the other hand in a fist circling over it as if holding a stick. If you see the Japanese grinder, it's a ceramic bowl with grooves cut in it, with a wooden pestle to crush.
Symbolically, this phrase is used for buttering up the boss or others. Brown-nosing?
Why would grinding sesame seeds be used for gratuitous compliments? I've had someone explain that when you grind sesame, the hulls fly off and stick to everything. And somehow this turned into an analogy for this kind of behavior.
On a recent TV show, $50,000!
It's the Japanese version of that show with "is that your final answer?" By the way, they've kept fie-nah-rue ahn-sah-rue (final answer) although the rest of the phrase has gotten lost.
The question was what "goma suru" translates to in English. The Japanese phrase literally means grinding sesame seeds. It's often accompanied by a cupped hand as though holding a bowl, with the other hand in a fist circling over it as if holding a stick. If you see the Japanese grinder, it's a ceramic bowl with grooves cut in it, with a wooden pestle to crush.
Symbolically, this phrase is used for buttering up the boss or others. Brown-nosing?
Why would grinding sesame seeds be used for gratuitous compliments? I've had someone explain that when you grind sesame, the hulls fly off and stick to everything. And somehow this turned into an analogy for this kind of behavior.
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Here's a bit of Japanese trivia that may be useful to someone.
We were out with a friend looking at temples (Nara has some great history).
At one site, the temple has been carefully taken apart and is being
rebuilt. However, as a result we got to see something that is ordinarily
hidden.
Japanese temples are built around several huge wood pillars. These pillars,
like the masts of old sailing ships, by preference are single trees, set on
a stone base, and rising to support the ceiling beams.
And that's where the secret demons are. See, at the top of the pillar
there's a short spacer. A chunk of wood about as tall as it is wide. I'm
not quite sure of the architectural reasons, but these are normally
invisible in the ceiling work.
But they had been taken out while they rebuild, and were on display.
Because they were lovingly carved squatting demons!
I love the notion of these craftsmen carefully carving a squat little demon,
huge face grinning, bandy arms at his side, little feet rumpled under him,
all the detailing and care -- just so that the two foot tall monstrosity can
be put on top of a piller and hidden in the ceiling beams and tiles.
I couldn't find out whether they actually knew these were in there or not
when they started taking the temple apart. If not, imagine the surprise
when they got to that point, and these monsters were revealed!
Cute, huh?
We were out with a friend looking at temples (Nara has some great history).
At one site, the temple has been carefully taken apart and is being
rebuilt. However, as a result we got to see something that is ordinarily
hidden.
Japanese temples are built around several huge wood pillars. These pillars,
like the masts of old sailing ships, by preference are single trees, set on
a stone base, and rising to support the ceiling beams.
And that's where the secret demons are. See, at the top of the pillar
there's a short spacer. A chunk of wood about as tall as it is wide. I'm
not quite sure of the architectural reasons, but these are normally
invisible in the ceiling work.
But they had been taken out while they rebuild, and were on display.
Because they were lovingly carved squatting demons!
I love the notion of these craftsmen carefully carving a squat little demon,
huge face grinning, bandy arms at his side, little feet rumpled under him,
all the detailing and care -- just so that the two foot tall monstrosity can
be put on top of a piller and hidden in the ceiling beams and tiles.
I couldn't find out whether they actually knew these were in there or not
when they started taking the temple apart. If not, imagine the surprise
when they got to that point, and these monsters were revealed!
Cute, huh?
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
A Lunch Time Treat
We had okonomiyaki for lunch the other day. It's often called "Japanese pizza" but that's like calling lasagne noodles and meat - it gives an impression that misses the mark almost entirely. So let's see if we can give a bit better impression of what okonomiyaki is.
We walked into the okonomiyaki restaurant and followed the waitress to a private table. As I tossed my coat on the seat beside me and sat down, the waitress turned on the gas for our grill. The table really is a grill, a flat plate heated from below with gas. The metal plate is about three feet long by a foot and a half wide. The wood border adds about six inches to each side. One end has a metal tray with several containers, an oil spreader, and a squeeze bottle. There's also a pitcher full of ice water.
We look over the menu. There's classic and modern with various meats. They also have some cheese varieties, and one with eggplant and rice cakes. We're tempted to try one of the unusual cheese or eggplant one, but we go with one classic mixed and one modern mixed.
Now we wait a few moments. Mitsuko checks out the containers. Dried fish shavings, seaweed powder, salt, pepper. The squeeze bottle, despite being yellow and a chance that it might have mustard, turns out to have mayonnaise. A large pot with the handle of a brush poking out is full of tonkatsu sauce. A bit of spice like worcester sauce, but sweeter and thicker.
A waiter brings our order. At this point, it's two bowls full of uncooked meat and mixings, plus noodles for the modern one. The mix for okonomiyaki is a measure of batter, fairly similar to pancake batter, finely chopped cabbage, and some chives (spring onions). There's often an egg, although that may be mixed into the batter ahead of time.
Our mixed ones have two good slices of pork, two pieces of beef, three shrimp, some pieces of squid, and slices of octopus.
The waiter offers to start things, and we let him. So he takes the oil spreader apart, the top turning into a metal handle with a forest of cloth fingers under it, the bottom a bowl full of oil. He uses this to grease the plate which is nicely hot at this point.
Then he puts the pork on the griddle where it starts to sizzle while he mixes the cabbage, batter, and other meats. Then he slides the mix out, covering the pork bits. The mix is maybe six to eight inches across, and at least an inch thick on the classic. The modern has an extra layer of noodles so it is thicker.
Now we let them cook while we talk. We take a moment to slide ceramic plates to our places, and to split up the chopsticks and small spatulas that the waiter put on the corner of the table. He's also left two large spatulas ready when we want to turn our okonomiyaki over.
After about ten minutes, we flip them. Then, about twenty minutes after sitting down, we flip them again and spread them with tonkatsu sauce. I put mayonnaise on mine. A dusting of green seaweed powder and a handful of dried fish shavings for both, and we're ready to eat.
I use the big spatula to cut the modern in half, then split a half into quarters. Slide one quarter from the grill onto my plate, and use the small spatula to cut it into smaller pieces. If I was out with the men from the office, we might scoop the food from the grill directly without plates, and not use chopsticks, but today I use my chopsticks to pick up a mouthful and
chew.
The batter is hot or warm, the cabbage soft and chewy, and the flavors of the meats wonderful grilled tidbits. The pork and beef are familiar, of course. Squid, in this case, is smooth white meat, with a rich texture but not the rubber eraser that you get from overcooking. The octopus is more chewy, but flavorful.
The noodles add body and volume. They're the familiar stir-fried noodles, mixed in for bulk.
Frankly, while everyone says you need the green seaweed powder and dried fish shavings for flavor, I don't think they add that much. I will say that the dried shavings add an exotic visual effect, since they are light enough
to stand up and wave in the combined influence of the heat and the moisture they absorb from the sauce. So it's like having a gently waving set of thin brown leaves on top of the food.
Okonomiyaki is a satisfying meal, washed down with plenty of ice water. The later portions are still hot as the grill is left on while we eat, although we do turn it down a little.
And that's okonomiyaki. In some restaurants, they cook it and then serve it, but often you get to serve yourself. And in many cases, as we did, you get to cook your own food.
Does that give a better impression of what the food is than "Japanese pizza"? If you get a chance, try it.
We had okonomiyaki for lunch the other day. It's often called "Japanese pizza" but that's like calling lasagne noodles and meat - it gives an impression that misses the mark almost entirely. So let's see if we can give a bit better impression of what okonomiyaki is.
We walked into the okonomiyaki restaurant and followed the waitress to a private table. As I tossed my coat on the seat beside me and sat down, the waitress turned on the gas for our grill. The table really is a grill, a flat plate heated from below with gas. The metal plate is about three feet long by a foot and a half wide. The wood border adds about six inches to each side. One end has a metal tray with several containers, an oil spreader, and a squeeze bottle. There's also a pitcher full of ice water.
We look over the menu. There's classic and modern with various meats. They also have some cheese varieties, and one with eggplant and rice cakes. We're tempted to try one of the unusual cheese or eggplant one, but we go with one classic mixed and one modern mixed.
Now we wait a few moments. Mitsuko checks out the containers. Dried fish shavings, seaweed powder, salt, pepper. The squeeze bottle, despite being yellow and a chance that it might have mustard, turns out to have mayonnaise. A large pot with the handle of a brush poking out is full of tonkatsu sauce. A bit of spice like worcester sauce, but sweeter and thicker.
A waiter brings our order. At this point, it's two bowls full of uncooked meat and mixings, plus noodles for the modern one. The mix for okonomiyaki is a measure of batter, fairly similar to pancake batter, finely chopped cabbage, and some chives (spring onions). There's often an egg, although that may be mixed into the batter ahead of time.
Our mixed ones have two good slices of pork, two pieces of beef, three shrimp, some pieces of squid, and slices of octopus.
The waiter offers to start things, and we let him. So he takes the oil spreader apart, the top turning into a metal handle with a forest of cloth fingers under it, the bottom a bowl full of oil. He uses this to grease the plate which is nicely hot at this point.
Then he puts the pork on the griddle where it starts to sizzle while he mixes the cabbage, batter, and other meats. Then he slides the mix out, covering the pork bits. The mix is maybe six to eight inches across, and at least an inch thick on the classic. The modern has an extra layer of noodles so it is thicker.
Now we let them cook while we talk. We take a moment to slide ceramic plates to our places, and to split up the chopsticks and small spatulas that the waiter put on the corner of the table. He's also left two large spatulas ready when we want to turn our okonomiyaki over.
After about ten minutes, we flip them. Then, about twenty minutes after sitting down, we flip them again and spread them with tonkatsu sauce. I put mayonnaise on mine. A dusting of green seaweed powder and a handful of dried fish shavings for both, and we're ready to eat.
I use the big spatula to cut the modern in half, then split a half into quarters. Slide one quarter from the grill onto my plate, and use the small spatula to cut it into smaller pieces. If I was out with the men from the office, we might scoop the food from the grill directly without plates, and not use chopsticks, but today I use my chopsticks to pick up a mouthful and
chew.
The batter is hot or warm, the cabbage soft and chewy, and the flavors of the meats wonderful grilled tidbits. The pork and beef are familiar, of course. Squid, in this case, is smooth white meat, with a rich texture but not the rubber eraser that you get from overcooking. The octopus is more chewy, but flavorful.
The noodles add body and volume. They're the familiar stir-fried noodles, mixed in for bulk.
Frankly, while everyone says you need the green seaweed powder and dried fish shavings for flavor, I don't think they add that much. I will say that the dried shavings add an exotic visual effect, since they are light enough
to stand up and wave in the combined influence of the heat and the moisture they absorb from the sauce. So it's like having a gently waving set of thin brown leaves on top of the food.
Okonomiyaki is a satisfying meal, washed down with plenty of ice water. The later portions are still hot as the grill is left on while we eat, although we do turn it down a little.
And that's okonomiyaki. In some restaurants, they cook it and then serve it, but often you get to serve yourself. And in many cases, as we did, you get to cook your own food.
Does that give a better impression of what the food is than "Japanese pizza"? If you get a chance, try it.
