Katsudon – Pork Cutlet Bowl with Rice

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Unofficially, I ended up sorting through Japanese recipes here in my March posts. As someone who has moved from one country to another, from city to city, I have never felt that I had a place to really call home. Japanese cuisine and, of course, my partner, are essentially my home, allowing me to  feel most comforted wherever I am; maybe that’s what I’ve been needing lately.

Undoubtedly, when I think of comfort food, katsudon comes to mind. I recall working at one of the reputable tonkatsu (specializing in pork cutlets) restaurants, called Wako, in Shinjuku during my university year, honing my skills in the kitchen with an enthusiastic Japanese chef and another chef who had French cuisine training under his belt. I learned not only how to cook but also why we cook. The ultimate answer was the pleasure of serving good and delicious food to those who love to eat! This mentality has always been inside of me, both before and after this experience, and to this day I remain unchanged. I wish I could track down those colleagues who cooked the most intricate and delicious lunches for us employees every single day–we had the greatest team in the kitchen!

chive_plant3lamb's_lettuce_radicchio_chives radicchiokatsudon3

Katsudon – Pork Cutlet Bowl with Rice

The key to restaurant-quality katsudon is all about using good quality pork and bread (plus the secret sauce). My soba sauce recipe is very similar to what I used to concoct every week in a huge batch within Wako’s kitchen. Thus, I still make batches big enough to last for a few months in my fridge, and I ensure that they keep moving with me, wherever I go! The best texture is achieved by making your own homemade panko on which you nestle the pork, creating a veritable bed of sweet, fluffy panko. The size of the skillet matters as well; try to use the smallest one in which you can fit all the ingredients in order to ensure even cooking during the shortest possible time.

Serves 2

2 pork centre loin pieces, about 1 inch thick, boneless

Salt and pepper

All purpose flour

1 egg + 2 tablespoons water, beaten well

2 cups fresh white bread, torn in large pieces (for making panko)

Oil for deep frying

½ onion, sliced into ¼ inch pieces

3 tablespoons soba sauce or more to your liking

Or a mixture of 1 tablespoon sugar, 2 tablespoons soy sauce and 1 tablespoon mirin

2 eggs, beaten very lightly

Green onions, scallions or chives, chopped finely

Cooked white rice

Rinse and pat the pork until dry. Season with salt and pepper. Place the bread pieces in a blender and roughly grind until they look like large snowflakes. Don’t grind to the size and texture of store-bought panko, as larger flakes are key to making the pork cutlet fluffy and textured.

Prepare the breading station by placing flour, beaten egg, and breadcrumbs in separate shallow bowls.

Do one piece at a time. Evenly coat the pork with flour, removing the excess, and then coat with egg. Lay the pork on the bed of breadcrumbs and cover the top with plenty of the crumbs as well. Press gently but firmly. Refrigerate, covered with a piece of clean wrung cloth or Saranwrap, for at least 10 minutes to moisten the breading. This makes breading adhere well and ensures an ideal texture.

In the meantime, warm oil to 345 to 355 F in a deep-rimmed pan, enough for deep frying.

Deep fry the pork until golden brown. Flip when halfway done. Test the doneness by slicing the thickest part. It is finished if the pork is light pink in colour and the juice is clear. Rest the pork on a rack for 5 minutes. Slice into pieces that are easy for you to eat.

Place the soba sauce, or the mixture of sugar and soy sauce, plus 2/3 cup water in a small skillet over medium heat. Cook the onion until tender. Place the sliced pork pieces in the skillet, and pour some sauce over top; cook for a couple of minutes. Pour the lightly beaten eggs over top, cover with a lid and cook for another 15 seconds, until eggs are half cooked. Serve over the cooked white rice, scattering the green onions on top.

 

Udon Noodles: Going Back To the Basics

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Lately, I have been enjoying doing old things. It seems like I’m against the current of modern technology of this day and age, but it just feels right in my own skin. Having started shooting using film is one of them. I truly enjoy the process of taking a photograph. Everything slows down. Unwrap a roll film. Load it and wind it on a spool, wind again to finally be able to shoot. It’s peaceful. Carefully choose a subject and think about a composition, so as not to waste one precious shot out of 10. Now decide on the aperture, take light metering and settle on the shutter speed. Concentrate. Focus. Duh, take off the darkslide, which I often forget to remove! Wait for the right moment. Press the shutter, hoping that neither my subject, nor I, have moved a mere inch. “Dung,” the heavy sound of mirror movement and shutter action completes all that it takes to photograph one scene, and that excites me very much. And yet, I won’t know if I managed to come away with the shot until the film is developed. I have become patient. Cock the shutter, advance the film and start all over again. I get indescribably giddy.

udon flour

So going back to the old things, for this post, I made udon noodles for you in the traditional way that some Japanese people still do. It is a time consuming process, but if you are looking for something to clear your mind or are trying to settle your anxiety, or if you are like me, just like to use your hands to make food, it is like a type of meditation. At least, the result is certainly worthy: a warm, utterly satisfying bowl of noodle soup.

flour

mixing

kneading

udon dough

rolling the dough

udon noodle

Udon Noodles and Soothing Soup

Feeds 8 – 10 people

1 kg all purpose flour

Salted water (50g salt and 450 g water)

Cornstarch for rolling the dough

Topping

Green onions, scallions or chives, finely sliced

Soup (serves 3-4)

2 x Kombu (about 4 x 4 inch pieces), make some slits in it with kitchen scissors

2 cups bonito flakes

5 tablespoons mirin

5 tablespoons light coloured soy sauce (usukuchi soy sauce)

or Soba sauce (see the recipe)

Sea salt

Dissolve salt well in 450g of water. Place the flour in a large bowl and add the salted water. Combine until there is no dry flour left. Form into a ball.

Place the dough in between two sheets of clean plastic sheets or Saranwrap on a sheet of clean cloth on the floor (yes, the floor!). Step on the dough with your clean feet. Fold it, step on it to stretch it and fold again. Repeat until the dough becomes smooth. Try not to let the air get inside the dough when you are folding. Match the corners neatly while folding so that it becomes a tidy small mass. Form into a ball.

Rest the dough in an airtight bag (or wrap tightly) at room temperature, 1 hour in summer time or 2 to 3 hours in winter.

In the meantime, make dashi stock. Wipe and clean the piece of kombu with a wrung wet cloth. Do not wash, as flavour leaches away.  Fill a large pot with 1.5 L of water and place the kombu inside. Let sit for 20 minutes to let umami leach into the water.

Warm up the pot over medium heat and, just before water starts boiling, remove the kombu from the pot. Don’t cook the kombu, as it gives off an unpleasant odor and taste.

Add the bonito flakes and bring to a boil very briefly: remove from heat. Do not boil the bonito, as it also makes the dashi unpleasant to taste. Leave the dashi until the bonito has sunk to the bottom of the pot and infused the stock. Strain the dashi stock into another pot. Warm up, and add mirin and soy sauce. Adjust with salt. Or, if you already have the soba sauce made, you can add 8 to 10 tablespoons of it. Just gradually add and taste to achieve your liking, and then adjust with salt. If you have extra, keep it refrigerated for up to a few days.

Step on the dough once again in between the two sheets of plastic, and form into a circle. Use your weight to stretch the dough as wide as possible, making it easier to stretch farther later. Flour the cornstarch on the working table and transfer the dough. Using a rolling pin, stretch the dough to about a 27-inch circle. Try to make the dough evenly thick. You can either form it into a circle or square. If you make the dough into a square shape, all the noodles become the same length when you cut them. Alternatively, if you find the dough too tough to stretch with a rolling pin, you can use a pasta attachment on a stand mixer to stretch it. Make the dough into about ¼ inch thickness.

Scatter the cornstarch on the dough surface and fold in thirds; just like you fold a letter to fit in an envelope, pull an edge from one side to the centre and another from the other edge to the centre, overlapping. Cut into ¼ inch thickness with a sharp knife. The key is to match the width of the noodle with the thickness of the dough to make nice shapes. As you cut, fluff the noodles to prevent them from sticking to each other. If you don’t want to cook all the noodles, you can divide them into smaller portions and freeze in airtight bags (remove the air as much as possible so as to avoid freezer burn). Consume within 2 months for the best flavour.

Boil water in a large pot. You need about 5 L of water to cook 400g of noodles per 3 people. Cook the noodles until done, for 12 to 13 minutes. The thicker the longer it takes to cook, so if you are not sure about the doneness, cut a piece of cooked noodle and see if the centre part became translucent. Adjust the heat accordingly to avoid spilling the hot water.

Drain the noodles and rinse with cold water. Drain completely and serve a portion in each bowl. Pour the hot soup over the noodles and top with green onions.

“Itadakimasu.”

 

Reminder of Thankfulness for Life’s Ordinary Things

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Today in particular, I feel pain in my heart. At the same time, I take time to be thankful for everything that I have. It’s been only two years since the Tsunami disaster occurred; however, I wonder how survivors have been recovering. Or should I say, it’s been two years, and I wonder if these survivors have found a way to heal their broken hearts. I cannot even begin to imagine. I truly hope that these people will be able to move forward, and find more moments of happiness as time marches on. I hope my little prayer will reach them.

 

この日は心に痛みを感じる日。そして平穏な日々に特に感謝をする日。僅か二年だが津波に襲われた人々の人生はどのように回復しているのか、それとももう二年もの日々が過ぎたというのに、いったい少しでも心の傷を癒すすべさえ見つける事が出来たのか、私にはとても想像すら出来ない。ただ思う事は、どうか被災者の方達がこの災難を乗り越えて、それぞれの人生に少しの瞬間でも、幸せを見つけられたらと。こんな私の小さな願いがどうか届きますように。