Japan Farmers Markets

The yuzu ginger marmalade is great. I really love it. But one of the local farmstands also sells apples, and I couldn't resist. Trouble is, I couldn't resist about two weeks ago, and I feared they would decide to leave before I came up with an activity for them. Dreaming of an apple butter using some of the togarashi (hot peppers) from the farm, I went in search of a recipe. I found this tasty sounding one for apple- ancho butter , but I ended up making a version of this one using some neighborhood yuzu (purchased from another local stand not scavenged!), the apples, and some ginger. So far, it's been a hit with my crew of tasters, although I am not sure how objective they are when it comes down to it. The yuzu flavor dominates, but perhaps the best part is biting into a little chunk of apple and getting a burst of sweet-sour. A bit of ginger also zips by the taste buds occasionally , which is always pleasant. The apples did not break down much at a

Much to my delight and surprise, Santa brought a yuzu tree for Christmas this year. At the nursery it held four fruit, but three fell off during the bike ride (I mean, sleigh ride) home. Delivered as a set - one slug and a small white spider - I couldn't be happier. (The bottom photo is the slug trying to escape after I found him on one of the presents.) I'm thrilled given the popularity of the yuzu ginger marmalade , and for how nice it makes the apartment smell. I can just see it out next to my garden or somewhere else at the farm. I'd have to, of course, talk with the farmers first. I'm also suspicious that it's size might belie it's age. The farmers report that yuzu can take about eighteen years to fruit, although some sites suggest grafter trees can fruit in much less time. Meanwhile, I'll continue figuring out how to care for our newest family member and enjoy its happy presence.

November found me visiting one of the many Tokyo farmer's markets to see what seasonal offerings were available. While visiting the Ebisu Farmers Market in November I met Noriko and Unikyo Sakyoen of Sakyoen Teas . They, of course, were selling their tea, but what drew me to their booth was the little box of brown balls pictured at left. Thinking with my sweet tooth, I assumed these were some kind of Japanese sweet I'd not met yet. Also thinking they were free samples, I jetted directly over. These are not something to be nibbled with tea, but they are tea itself. Green tea seedpods, to be exact. Rough to the touch and nearly light as a feather, they rattled a bit as I rolled them about in my hand. Sankyoen - san patiently explained to me in the simplest Japanese he could muster what they were and how to plant them. They have since sat in a small bowl on my bookcase waiting for me to make my move. While Sankyoen - san's advice is certainly sound (as the twelfth ge

One of the great thrills of a recent hike (other than great views of Mount Fuji and the fun of my companions) was finding a number of vegetable stalls at the end of the trail . (Ok, the monkey's were a highlight, too.) We all came home with yuzu , green tea, umeboshi , a handful of winter greens, and ginger. Well, so we thought. It turns out that what I thought was ginger for the yuzu-ginger marmalade I was dreaming up was something more potato-like. The distinctive ginger smell was lacking, and when I nibbled on them they were firm and sweetly bland. (Luckily for the marmalade I still had some ginger from a local vegetable stand .) These went back in the drawer for further investigation. Late last week a friend we'd visited on our first trip to Hokkaido came over for dinner. We shared a typical house meal - salad , miso, and rice - with an assortment of pickled things scattered about the table for variety. The miso contained shitake mushrooms, potatoes, carrots, lots of g

While I've already made four batches of yuzu -ginger marmalade (including one for Le Panier de Piu's December Cooking Party ), there are still a few yuzu hiding around the apartment. While I'm saving a few for the traditional dunking in the bath on the solstice , I also thought I'd try my hand this year at yuzushu . The umeshu process had been quite straight-forward, and my hunch was yuzushu would be as well. Solstice Yuzushu * 1.8 liters of shochu 6 yuzu , mostly the fat ones 250 grams of sugar Pour sugar into the bottom of a clean glass jar (non-reactive containers are best in these situations), and pop the yuzu fruit and peel on top. Pour in the shochu . The recipe I mostly followed suggests removing the peel after one week or so, and the fruit after a month. Let it age in a cool dark place for six months to a year to become a fine liqueur or a tolerably tasty mixer. We'll have to see. Caveats and More Caveats Fruit - Yuzu is famous in Japan for

True to my word, I whipped up a batch of marmalade from the yuzu we bought on the trail . Last year, I made yuzu marmalade using the same recipe for my mikan marmalade , but this time I wanted something a little different. The mikan recipe is easy and delicious, but it requires a fair amount of time. I wanted a recipe that could be made and canned in a day, and that would include another seasonal favorite: ginger. (I also needed a good recipe to teach during Le Panier de Piu's cooking class this Saturday .) A quick search brought me to this recipe at Food in Jars . I'd found a terrific recipe for Rhubarb Butter there, and had seen an assortment of other recipes and solid information for canning and preserving. Marisa's recipe for Mikan-Ginger Marmalade sounded delicious and looked quite straight-forward. Tweaking it for my own kitchen and taste, I gave it a go and here's what I came up with to slather on our toast. Joan's Yuzu Marmalade* 8 cups y

Last weekend, we took a most amazing hike in the mountains just west of here. A small group of us set out early on a sunny Saturday to explore a new set of trails. It was another glorious fall day - crisp, clear air full of sunlight - with fantastic views of Mount Fuji's snow-covered shoulders all the way out and along the trail to inspire us even more. Our course took us up to a ridge and around to two peaks well west of Mount Takao - Mount Syoto and Mount Jimba - then looped us back down to the station. The trails were lovely, albeit steep in places, but Mount Fuji and glimpses of the Southern Alps in the far distance proved effective distractions. I hope to write the hike up here for anyone wishing to follow our trompings , and publish a few more photographs. I've got a bevy of projects in the hopper at the moment, though, so in the meantime I'll share what was the highlight for me. As a yasai otaku (serious vegetable geek) , I am drawn to anything that looks remo

I learned recently that a rice cooker is not just for rice. I knew, for example, that one could toss in an assortment of things such as sliced carrots, garlic cloves, raisins, mushrooms, lentils, etc., to jazz things up. I also knew that one could mix rices - brown, white, black, red, etc. - with a handful of other grains to get a nifty concoction that was as tasty as it was beautiful. But, I did not know one could bake with it. That is, until a friend of mine, served up a thick, lovely slice of what she called breakfast bread. Shot through with flecks of green tea and drizzled with maple syrup (a hot commodity here in Japan if ever there was one) it was a softly sweet bread that had me asking for the recipe while my mouth was still half full. The cookbook, Rice Cooker Cooking by Misato Hamada, turned out to be even more enticing. Everything in the book - desserts, soups, noodle dishes, vegetables, multiple course meals - is cooked in a rice cooker. The multiple course meals requi

Last year a friend taught us how to make kimchi for the first time. The haksai (Chinese cabbage) was finishing up in the farmer's field, and as usual we were pressed for time. We spent a late night chopping cabbage, carrots, komatsuna, and daikon only to massage them by hand with salt, garlic, ginger, and crushed red peppers until the skin on our arms tingled. Then it fermented (and overflowed a bit, hence the time in the bathtub) for about a week before our munching commenced. Seeing haksai available again at a nearby vegetable stand , I decided to give it a go on my own this year. There's plenty of komatsuna rolling in these days, along with carrots, daikon, and other assorted vegetables that usually end up in our salad . Inspired as well by the large amounts of fresh ginger available at stalls and farmer's markets of late as well as my own balcony and garden harvest of hot peppers , it seemed like the time was ripe. Late November Friday Night Kimchi 2 heads of haksa

It's hard to believe December is already here. Not only are the winter crops all in at the farm, but harvest is going in earnest. Two crops of greens - shungiku and santosai - are already finished. The arugula is just about done, and we harvested the first of the wasabina this past Tuesday. The broccoli and cabbage are taking their own sweet time to fill out as needed, but I'm happy to wait. Komatsuna rolls in daily to fill our cart twice over and my salad bowl multiple times thereafter. Kabu and daikon are jumping on the bandwagon, too, so I've got no complaints. I should turn green with all the leaves I'm eating these days. My own garden , is a slightly different story. Most of my own seeds and seedlings went in a bit late or sporadically. Our vacations and traveling with multiple rounds of guests meant that I devoted any free time at the farm to the farmers and their crops. My theory is that I don't attempt to make a living from my garden, so their fields

Ever since receiving the yacon seedlings earlier this spring , I really haven't known what to expect. I've had some good guidance from Rhizowen Radix on what to do and what to expect, but mostly I've been along for the ride. I mulched them during summer's ever-increasing heat, and gave them regular sips of water and hoped for their survival. Some shriveling of their soft, velvety leaves did occur, but they hung on through the worst of it. As the weather turned cooler and the days shorter, the yacon seemed to embrace the change as much as me. We both seem to drink in the cold breezes and glowing days with gusto, and we both stand taller than ever now that the burden of summer's heat is lifted. Truly, I'm not being overly dramatic. My farmers compare the heat of this past summer with India. Records highs were set, and crops all across the country were lost because of it and the simultaneous drought. On our own farm, we lost carrots, sweet potatoes, and a lat