How do I love thee? (Sukiyaki) Let me count the ways! I love the veggies, the mushrooms, the tofu, the noodles, the beef, and of course the broth. In fact, I love every ingredient in this Japanese hot pot dish. Everything! But before I go any further, I should explain the difference between the two main ways Sukiyaki is prepared and presented in Japan.
In Japan there are two main styles of sukiyaki preparation. Kanto (Tokyo) style of Eastern Japan and Kansai (Osaka) style of Western Japan. Kanto style sukiyaki is prepared by heating sukiyaki sauce (warishita) in a pot before pouring the sauce over the veggies and meat and cooking them all together. Kansai style sukiyaki is eaten in stages. The beef is first seared in the pot and then sprinkled with sugar. Then the warishita is added to the pot along with the other ingredients. Since I prefer my sukiyaki Kanto style, that’s what you get today.
When I was first learning to cook in 1964, my beloved Betty Crocker cookbook (1961 First Edition, Third Printing) was given to me by my Aunt Ruth (mom’s sister).
As a new bride I faithfully perused Betty’s recipes almost every day. But until I started working at the International Branch of Seafirst Bank in January of 1970, I paid no attention to the Sukiyaki recipe in my cherished BC cookbook.
But at work, surrounded by Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, Hawaiian, black, one woman from England, a Brooklynite, and a few of us white folks thrown in for diversity’s sake, I learned to love all kinds of ethnic food, including of course, Asian cuisine. In fact, I went for Asian food like a moth to a candle. I was instantly smitten, and even after decades of making food from all over the world (American style), I never lost my love for Asian Inspired Dishes. Which BTW, you can find all my Asian inspired recipes under Categories, right hand column on this site.
And never mind I’m 68% more Neanderthal than the average Neanderthal. And almost every gene in my body was lovingly inherited from my ancestors centered around Strasbourg (now part of France, but part of Germany at times). Mother French/German, father Swiss French. Last names like Amann, Kléber, and Merz.
But ethnicity apparently had nothing to do with my taste buds. Because culinarily speaking, I am half Italian and half American Chinese/Japanese. I can’t help this. Italian food rocks me to sleep, while Asian food wakes me up.
That is what is so exciting about living and being a cook in an immigrant nation. All the diversity of dishes that include unique and different ingredients create new and exciting flavors and textures for all of us to enjoy. We are so lucky. And this circumstance is never clearer to me than when I travel overseas.
As much as I adore Italian food, when I’m in Italy, by about the second week, I begin to crave Chinese or Mexican or Greek food. My mouth yearns for a change because it has become accustomed to the variety of flavors only a melting-pot nation can provide.
So, although I promised myself, I would stop writing about politics, I can’t help but remind all of us, me included, how lucky we are to live in a country that until recently, took pride in our diversity. We are, and have always been, an immigrant nation. Unless of course, you are a native American or your ancestors were brought here as slaves. (But I can’t go in that direction, or I will totally come unglued.)
And of course, many of you are as upset as I am about what is happening to our country. All we can do is be kind to each other and hope and pray that our elected officials, both democrats and republicans, can get their collective act together and stop the crazy.
So, stay positive, stay informed, take care of yourself and your loved ones, and don’t give up. We are well and truly all in this together.
Peace and love to all.
1 c. mirin
¼ c. water
¾ c. low sodium tamari or low sodium soy sauce
½ sm. onion, halved and thinly sliced
½-¾ lb. fresh mushrooms (your choice), sliced
4 c. roughly chopped napa cabbage
6 green onions, cut into 1-inch lengths diagonally
1 bunch (5-6 oz.) Japanese noodles (udon, somen, or rice vermicelli), cooked and drained
1 pkg. extra firm tofu, baked (see recipe for Baked Marinated Tofu below)
½ lb. marbled beef, cut into very thin slices (see how below)
steamed rice, opt.
Bring the mirin, water, and tamari or soy sauce to a boil in a small saucepan. Reduce heat and simmer for about 5 minutes.
Place the onion, mushrooms, cabbage, and green onions in a large, covered skillet (keep the veggies separated) and pour the mirin sauce over the veggies. Add the cooked noodles and baked tofu.
Cover, bring to boil, and cook for 2 minutes. Remove the lid and simmer until all ingredients are softened. Add the meat and cook only until it starts turning from red to partially brown.
Place a bit of rice in individual soup bowls. Add a bit of each veggie, cooked meat, and noodles to the bowl. Add broth.
Serve hot.
For the Baked Marinated Tofu:
2 T. tamari or soy sauce
1 T. toasted sesame oil
¼ tsp. granulated garlic
1 pkg. (10.5 oz.) extra firm tofu, cut into ¾-inch cubes
Combine the tamari, sesame oil, and granulated garlic in a large, flat-bottomed dish. Place the cut tofu in the dish, and using your fingers, turn the cubes until all sides of the tofu cubes have been introduced to the liquid. Allow the cubes to marinate covered in your refrigerator for at least 1 hour, turning the cubes periodically.
Line a baking pan with parchment paper. Pick the tofu out of the marinade and place the cubes on the baking pan. (Any leftover marinade can be added to the mirin mixture.)
Bake the marinated tofu cubes in a pre-heated 425-degree oven for about 25 minutes, turning after 15 minutes.
Remove from the oven and set aside until needed.
How: Place the meat in freezer just until it starts to get hard. Then remove from freezer and slice the meat as thinly as possible.