I’m happy to share this guest post from Expat Explorer today! They have put together some great tips on how to eat cheaply in Tokyo, which is something a lot of people don’t think is possible. Some of the best food we ate in Japan ended up being the cheapest. So without further adieu, here are some tips and tricks to help you navigate the affordable food scene in Tokyo, Japan!
Japanese food is a favourite for city dwellers globally, not just in Tokyo. And it has a reputation for being four things – tasty, quick, healthy, and expensive.
In the latest Expat Explorer survey (brought to you by HSBC Expat), Japan ranked third for a healthy expat diet. But here are some tips for ensuring that your sushi lunches in Tokyo aren’t just delicious, but don’t break the bank either.

1. Exercise will power: Many Japanese eateries use conveyor belts to ensure the journey from kitchen to customer is even quicker when it comes to sushi. And this means you pay by the plate. Set yourself a maximum of 2-3 plates in advance and choose rice-based options to make sure you fill up. Healthy portion sizes as well as wallets? Sorted.

2. Forget what your mother taught you: Fresh isn’t always better when it comes to vegetables, at least from a financial point of view. Get to grips with the range of pre-made vegetable dishes available in local supermarkets and save yourself time, hassle and a fortune.

3. Stand for your supper: You won’t need to beg like Oliver Twist – standing while eating in noodle bars is standard in some Japanese restaurants! Be prepared to pay extra for the luxury of a seat.

4. Follow the savvy savers: Food is much more affordable in blue-collar districts or areas frequented by students. If you can, steer clear of city slicker types to seek out inexpensive cuisine.

5. Know your local canteens: Basement canteens in office blocks aren’t always reserved solely for employees in that building. Cheaper food and an opportunity to meet workers from other businesses could be a winning combination for expats in Japan.

Brad and I had a rare date night on Sunday. We took advantage of our time alone to say goodbye to the area of Tokyo we have called home for the past 4 years. It was nice to stroll down the side streets lined with shops and restaurants, talking about how our first year seemed like such a long time ago. I think we were both surprised at how at home we ended up feeling in Tokyo. Saying goodbye is and will be difficult, but this was the perfect evening from start to finish. First, we toasted to all the changes coming up with champagne along the Tama River. Then, we went to a local izakaya where we enjoyed some miso crab (um, yum) before heading to the main event: ramen. We finished up with a little cup of gelato (chocolate + cappuccino for me). Then came the food coma.

Needless to say, after all of that rich food I needed to refuel this week with some healthier choices. While on a walk with Callie the dog, I passed the produce vending machine near our apartment and saw the most beautiful carrots. Most of the carrots we find here are huge. I mean, really gigantic. But these were small and sweet-looking with the greens still attached (I love that). So, I put in my 200¥, turned the nob to the compartment where they sat waiting patiently to be purchased, and toted them home.

I decided not to do anything fancy with them. Instead, I washed and peeled them immediately and ate them with some creamy miso dip. The sweet carrots with the salty, umami bite of the miso made a perfect snack.

Between organizing our things for the voyage across the Pacific and being a stay-at-home mom, my head is constantly spinning with endless lists of things that need to get done. Fortunately, making this snack was not complicated or time consuming. It was, however, one of the few things I have actually made in our little kitchen lately. Instead of spending a lot of time making my favorite foods during our last 2 1/2 (what?!?) weeks in Tokyo, we have been focusing on going out as much as possible. When I thought about it, I realized that even in Denver I will be able to make most of the things I do here. But our favorite dumpling place? Nope, not in Denver. Speaking of which…I should probably walk down there for a visit this afternoon…

My last few posts here in Tokyo will hopefully include a lot of photos documenting our last meals in Japan, along with at least one post featuring a strawberry short cake I made yesterday.

Then, on June 12, it’s on to new adventures for the Tokyo Terrace household!

Creamy Miso Dip

Serves 3-4 (makes just over 1/2 cup)

1/2 cup mayo (for a healthier version, try using plain yogurt. The flavor will be slightly different, but still tasty!)

3 tablespoons miso paste (I used red miso, but white works as well)

Mix mayo and miso together. Serve immediately or store in the refrigerator until ready to use.

Riley is growing so fast. He has outgrown his first wave of clothing. As I put his newborn clothes away, I felt a little sad that time is already going so quickly. At the same time, I am loving the smiles, gurgles and wriggles that have come along over the past few weeks. There is always something new to love about this tiny human that has entered our lives.

While spending time with Riley is wonderful, I still value having time to take a breath and remember that I am still me. Those times are few and far between, but I try to make the most of them when possible. One of the best ways to feel like myself again is to cook. The first time I made a meal after having Riley, I felt like my joints were rusty. I couldn’t quite find the groove I once had in the kitchen. Each time I find myself putting together a meal (rather than having Brad pick up take-out on his way home from work) it feels more and more natural. Still, my time is limited. My recipe choices have therefore become much simpler to help make the most of my free time.

Ginger honey is a great example of something that I can easily make and have on hand for a daily dose of “me time”. My favorite thing to do is to add it to chamomile tea. Sitting down with my hands around a hot mug while I breathe in the relaxing aroma helps me get through the day. There is something so comforting about the warmth that ginger adds to both sweet and savory dishes. Lately, since life has gotten much crazier, I really appreciate simple things that can help me relax.

At the grocery stores here in Tokyo you can find huge jars of ginger honey with slices of fresh ginger suspended in the golden honey. I’ve kept this recipe simple by adding only sliced ginger, but you can bring it to a whole new level by adding lemon zest, cloves, cinnamon…anything you’d like. The honey keeps for about 2 weeks in the refrigerator, but if you seal it in an airtight jar, you can keep it for much longer on the shelf until you open it for use.

The honey makes a beautiful and unique hostess gift. Just put it in a small jar, tie a ribbon around the top and you’re all set! Homemade gifts really are the best, aren’t they?

Ginger Honey

Makes 1 cup

Make sure your ginger is very fresh. It should feel firm, not spongy when you purchase it. The outer skin should not be wrinkly either. This recipe makes 1 cup of honey but it is very easy to make larger batches based on what I have here. I like to leave the sliced ginger in the honey even after it has been infused to make the ginger flavor more intense. If you prefer a lighter flavor, simply pull out the ginger slices before storing.

1 cup honey (any kind will do)

2 pieces of fresh ginger root, each about 3 inches long, sliced lengthwise in 1/4″ slices

Optional: 2 or 3 cloves, 2 cinnamon sticks, zest from a lemon, orange or yuzu

Pour the honey into a small saucepan and add the ginger and other spices/flavorings if using. Over medium low heat, bring the honey to a slow and low simmer. Don’t get it too hot or it will not have the right consistency. Watching the honey carefully, allow the flavors to infuse for 5-10 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove the honey from the heat and allow it to cool. Transfer to a container for storage and allow it to sit for about 5 days before using. The honey will keep for approximately 2 weeks after the 5 day waiting period.

Drizzle over yogurt, use in your tea, OR wait for my next post on another way to utilize this delicious honey!

Chestnuts have never been a familiar food to me. Basically, I was only familiar with the song…you know, “chestnuts roasting on and open fire….”, and that’s where the relationship ended. When we moved to Tokyo, I had no idea we would be surrounded by so many chestnuts this time of year. Sometimes you can find vendors roasting them, which is always a treat. Buying a paper bag filled with steaming hot chestnuts on a cold, cloudy day is absolute perfection. The nutty smell wafts up from the bag and at least gives the illusion that you are warming up from the inside out. Scooping out the soft flesh and taking that first bite is an incredibly satisfying and comforting moment.

I’ve been a little shy of trying to make anything involving chestnuts at home, short of this soup I made a couple years ago. This year, I decided to put on my big girl panties and try something different. Different for me, anyway. After buying a bag of pre-cooked chestnuts (sorry, but at 39 weeks pregnant I just can’t justify putting myself through the stress of trying to roast my own) and letting them sit on the shelf as I tried to come up with some novel way to use them, I finally decided on kurigohan. Kurigohan is Japanese chestnut rice. The rice is cooked with saké, mirin, a touch of sugar and soy sauce. I used my rice cooker, which is a total lifesaver. If you don’t have one, get one. Immediately.

As I meandered around the internet researching various recipes, I noticed that some called for soy sauce and others didn’t. I opted to use soy sauce because it creates this beautiful crust on the bottom of the rice. The layer becomes a little crunchy and full of umami, which the perfect way to enhance the rest of the rice dish. Also, I didn’t actually see recipes that called for sugar, but I wanted to add a touch to bring out the flavor of the chestnuts and to contrast the salty soy flavor.

The result? A steaming hot bowl full of perfect autumn flavors that made the apartment smell wonderful. I decided to experiment, as I tend to do, by adding a non-traditional ingredient that I thought made this dish appropriate for upcoming holiday feasts. I added a handful of dried cranberries to the bowl and it was amazing! The best way to add the cranberries is to just toss them in the rice cooker with the rest of the ingredients for a little pop of tart flavor. Seriously- unbelievable.

If you have a rice cooker and can find either pre-cooked or vacuum packed chestnuts, it takes literally 5 minutes to throw this together (that obviously does not include the wait-time involved while the rice is cooking). You can make it without a rice cooker and by roasting your own chestnuts- take a look at the links below for help with that.

http://kyotofoodie.com/donabe-yakiguri-gohan/

http://www.lafujimama.com/2009/12/kurigohan-japanese-chestnut-rice/

http://www.foodbuzz.com/recipes/1513726-kuri-gohan-chestnut-rice-recipe

http://kanakoskitchen.com/2009/10/27/kurigohan/

Kurigohan

1 cup chestnut pieces

1 1/2 cups short grain rice, washed until the water is clear

2 teaspoons saké

1 tablespoon soy sauce

2 teaspoons mirin

1 tablespoon light brown sugar (optional)

1/2 cup dried cranberries (optional)

1 piece of kombu

In the bowl of a rice cooker, combine the rice, 1 1/2 cups water (equal to the amount of rice), saké, soy sauce, mirin, brown sugar and chestnuts. stir gently to combine the ingredients. Place the kombu on top of the rice. Close the rice cooker and cook according to manufacturer’s instructions.

When the rice is finished cooking, allow it to sit and steam for an extra 5-10 minutes.

Toss with a rice paddle or spatula and spoon into individual serving bowls. Sprinkle with black sesame seeds and serve immediately.

I managed to get my big pregnant belly out of the apartment for a little walk this afternoon. These last few weeks have left me feeling quite tired and even going for a short walk seems like an impossible feat. However, when I am able to manage the motivation to get out the door, it is more than worth it. Today, I walked around marveling at the beautiful persimmon trees in our Tokyo suburb, dotted with bright orange fruit, the afternoon sun giving them a dreamy glow. There are a lot of things in life that seem impossible until they are done. Once we have accomplished the “doing” part, the payback is immeasurable. The same can be said for making homemade food, like this kabocha purée.

In the states, it is so easy to find canned pumpkin this time of year. It seems totally unnecessary to purchase your own pumpkin and make homemade purée. I would be of the same mind had I not moved to a country that doesn’t seem to have our obsession with premade, prepackaged pumpkin. To be honest, I was wary of making this myself. But, like my walk this afternoon, once I did it I felt a great sense of accomplishment. And the time it took me to make the pumpkin purée was negligible. The steps, simple and few, resulted in a beautifully flavored fresh kabocha purée that will make some delicious desserts.

In Japan, orange pumpkins are rarely seen. I managed to snag a couple this year around Halloween, but that was not normal. If you live in Japan and are craving some American-style pumpkin pie during the holiday season, this is the base you will need. I promise, it doesn’t take long and is worth the (very little) effort! If you don’t live in Japan, feel free to use pumpkin if it is available. I would venture a guess that just about any squash similar to pumpkin or kabocha would work just as well.

What is it that you are avoiding? What is your excuse? Whatever the reason, brush it to the side and hopefully you will learn what I did today: there is no point sitting around thinking about it when you could be doing it instead.

In a couple days, I will be sharing a couple of great ideas for how to season your purée and use it in desserts!

Kabocha Purée

Serving size depends on the size of your squash/pumpkin, but mine made just over 1 cup of purée

1 medium sized kabocha, 2-3 pounds

water

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Cut the kabocha in half but do not remove the seeds. On a foil lined baking sheet, place the kabocha cut side down. Add about 1 inch of water to the pan to keep the kabocha from drying out during roasting. Carefully place the pan in the oven and roast until the flesh can easily be pierced with a knife, about 40-45 minutes.

Remove the kabocha from the pan and water. Place it on a plate and allow to cool until you can easily handle it. Remove the seeds and discard. Scoop out the flesh and put it in a food processor. Begin pulsing to break up the kabocha, then process until smooth.

*Note: My kabocha was a little too dry for my liking, so while it was in the processor, I added water (about 1 tablespoon at a time) until it reached the consistency I wanted. You may not need to do this, but if the kabocha is not smooth and glossy but chunky and chalky looking, add water. If you don’t, the texture of whatever it is you are making with the purée will not turn out correctly.

Transfer the purée to an airtight container and store in the fridge until ready to use (no more than 3 or 4 days).

It’s amazing how quickly my mind goes from Halloween to Thanksgiving to Christmas this time of year. The excitement might as well start mid-September because that’s when I have to start using my self-control (of which I have very little) to not listen to Christmas music just yet. It’s been this way for my entire life. My sister and I have both been fans of starting to listen to/sing/play Christmas music together very early in the season. I think we could probably get away with it when we were younger. It’s probably less cute now that we’re all grown up. These days, after Halloween, I allow myself to relax a bit and begin listening to Christmas music that isn’t really Christmas music. You know, the newer releases that are not as traditional as Bing Crosby, for example. Bing should be reserved for falling snowflakes and tree decorating.

It’s a little harder lately to avoid having Christmas music playing in the background because I’m trying to get a number of holiday posts completed before our Little Man arrives at Tokyo Terrace. With only 3 weeks left until the due date, I have to use my time wisely and a little holiday music seems to help the creative flow. So yes, that’s how I’m justifying my ridiculously early listening pleasures.

In an effort to spread the early holiday joy, and with Thanksgiving coming up very quickly (check your calendar- it’s nearly NOVEMBER!) I thought it would be nice to share one of my favorite Thanksgiving recipes with you. This is not exactly what graced our table in years past as my family gathered to enjoy a massive, delicious meal together, but its roots stem from Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. Every year of my life, until moving to Tokyo, the entire extended family would come over and everyone brought their signature contributions. My Aunt Joanne’s pumpkin and apple pies, my grandma’s fruit salad (a shade of mint green and filled with mini-marshmallows) and my mom’s sweet potato casserole, to name a few.

We have hosted Thanksgiving for the past 3 years in Tokyo, which I must say has proven to be the most difficult but also rewarding experience. The logistics of putting together a traditional Thanksgiving meal in Tokyo make for some interesting stories. And the creativity of using the ingredients that are available (no canned yams or pumpkin around here, folks!) can result in both discoveries that are frustrating and entirely satisfying. Recreating my mom’s sweet potato casserole was just such an experience.

Our first year in Tokyo I knew only of the white-fleshed, purple-skinned sweet potatoes that I saw in every grocery store. But I also knew that I couldn’t have white potatoes as the main ingredient in the casserole. Aesthetically it would not be as pleasing. So, I decided to experiment with Japanese kabocha squash. I’ve tried several different methods for cooking the kabocha before putting it in the casserole dish- steaming, roasting and boiling. While each method worked well, I have found that roasting leads to the most satisfying flavor in the squash.

This year, since I’m a little too pregnant to host Thanksgiving (OK, my due date is the day before), I decided to make personal sized casseroles with these mini-kabocha that I found the other day. They are the perfect personal size! You can use orange sweet potatoes (or yams) that have been cut in half in place of the kabocha, but if you’re in Japan I recommend giving this a try. If you don’t have an oven, you can simply steam the squash halves in a bamboo steamer until a knife can be easily inserted into the flesh. To brown the top, simply pop them in the fish oven but keep a close eye on them so you don’t end up with a black, charcoal topping.

What are some of your favorite twists on traditional holiday dishes? I’d love to hear some of your ideas in the comments below!

Individual Kabocha Casserole

Makes 2 servings

*This recipe is written specifically for individual servings but it is quite simple to multiply. If you are using a larger squash or sweet potatoes/yams, you will need about 2 cups diced to serve approximately 6 people. Prepare the squash/potatoes/yams as desired- steamed or roasted- before adding them to a casserole dish. For the brown sugar-cinnamon topping, you will need about 1 cup brown sugar, 3 tablespoons cinnamon (or to taste- I’m a big fan of cinnamon) and 1/4 cup flour. Otherwise, just follow the cooking steps below!

1 small kabocha or other squash, or a medium sweet potato or yam

1/3 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon cinnamon (or to taste- I’m a big cinnamon fan so I am generous)

1/4 cup course chopped pecans

2 tablespoons flour

1-2 tablespoons butter

Mini-marshmallows

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Cut the squash in half along the equator and scoop out the seeds. Place it cut side down on a foil-lined baking sheet. Bake for about 15 minutes or until the flesh can be pierced with a knife with little resistance. Meanwhile, combine the brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and pecans in a small bowl.

Turn the squash halves cut side up and sprinkle with the brown sugar/cinnamon/pecan topping. Top with small pieces of butter. Return the squash to the oven and bake for about 5 minutes, or until the topping is beginning to bubble slightly. Be careful not to leave them unattended for too long, or the nuts will burn.

Top with the mini marshmallows (they expand slightly, so don’t go too overboard or they will ooze over the edges- not necessarily a bad thing but it doesn’t look as pretty). Return to the oven for 2 or 3 minutes, or until the marshmallows are a beautiful golden brown.

Serve immediately.

The past couple days in Tokyo have been cool and cloudy. All signs point to fall. Finally.

In Minnesota, fall would be filled with caramel apples, hot cider, and campfires. In Japan, it is filled with hot pots, warm bowls of ramen, and the sweet, nutty scent of sweet potatoes. I’ve rambled on about how much I love the smell of Japanese sweet potatoes before and this year is no different. The only change is that instead of waiting to walk through the doors of the grocery store to find that beautiful aroma, I created it in my own kitchen.

Daigaku imo are probably the closest thing to caramel apples here in Japan. Chunks of sweet potato take the place of the apple, and a combination of sugar and soy sauce coats the outside creating a sticky, crispy, umami coating. Black sesame salt decorates the top beautifully, creating a lovely and festive appetizer for Halloween parties.

This is the perfect fall treat, not only because of the beautiful presentation, but because of the perfect combination of flavors. The sweet, nutty taste of the sweet potato is enhanced by the sweet-salty, toffee-like glaze and sesame salt. You can find daigaku imo (Japanese University Sweet Potatoes) at many of the autumn festivals that occur at various school campuses, as well as food stands around Tokyo but they are just as easy to make in the comfort of your own home. I haven’t tried this yet, but I’d be willing to bet you could use almost any potato or even squash to make this recipe. I’d like to try adding a little cinnamon to the glaze next time, just to mix things up a little and add a little of my own touch. The basic recipe is quite easy and lends itself well to creative license.

I have to thank my facebook followers for a swath of new Japanese recipes to post here. The other day, I asked what readers would like to see here on the site and got some great feedback! Thanks to Lisa for the suggestion to do daigaku imo! If there is anything you would like to see on Tokyo Terrace in the coming days and weeks, feel free to leave suggestions here in the comment section or on my facebook page.

Daigaku Imo

Serves 2-4

Based on a recipe from Just Hungry

1 medium sweet potato (about 1 1/2-2 cups after being cut)

Oil for frying

2 T sesame oil

2 T white sugar

1 T corn syrup (you can also use honey, but this will alter the flavor and texture)

3/4 tsp. soy sauce

Black sesame seeds, lightly toasted and combined with a touch of course sea salt

Clean the sweet potato and remove any stringy bits.  Cut the sweet potato into cubes about an inch or so in size. Place the potatoes in a bowl of cold water.

Meanwhile, combine the oils together in a large saucepan. You should have enough oil to give you just over an inch in the bottom of the pan. Test the oil with one piece of sweet potato that you have dried thoroughly with a paper towel or tea towel. If the oil starts to bubble about 2 seconds after you add the potato, it is ready. While you wait for the oil to heat, carefully and completely dry the sweet potato pieces. Add the sweet potatoes to the oil and fry until golden brown and crisp. This should take no more than 4 or 5 minutes, depending on the exact size of your pieces.

As the potatoes cook, combine the sugar, corn syrup or honey, and soy sauce in a small, heavy saucepan. Place over medium heat and stir until the sugar is dissolved and the mixture is heated but not bubbling. Turn off the heat and set the pan aside but within reach while you work with the potatoes.

Remove the potatoes from the oil using a slotted spoon and shake carefully (the oil is HOT!) over the frying pan before transferring them to the pan holding the syrup mixture. Toss immediately to coat all of the potatoes and sprinkle with the sesame seeds/salt. Serve immediately.

Lately I’ve been doing a lot more walking. For obvious reasons (read: inadequate balance due to my bulging belly) I have stopped riding my bicycle around Tokyo. So, aside from bumming rides from friends and utilizing public transportation, walking is the only other option. I don’t mind unless the weather is uncomfortably hot, as it is most days. (But I talk about weather a lot, so let’s not dwell on that.)

One of the pleasures of walking around our neighborhood on my way home from work is taking in the scenery surrounding various homes and hidden temples/shrines in the area. The meticulous manner by which the bushes are trimmed and the intentional way plants have been guided in their growth produce some of the most visually stunning scenes. I especially love it when I catch someone outside with what appear to be very long chopsticks doing what I assume is either plucking bugs off of their plants or perhaps removing dead leaves. Even though I don’t really know what it is they are doing, I love watching the process. Each move is carefully calculated and precise. I realize now how much I missed when I rode my bicycle. The chance to soak in the intricacies of life in our neighborhood whizzes by as the wind blows across my face and my feet pedal quickly home.

I have found the same to be true when I cook Japanese food. Cooking food that I am completely familiar with (i.e. non-Japanese food) is easy. The recipes are usually memorized or improvised quickly on the fly, the flurry of ingredients, bowls, pans and utensils whir past without a second thought. With Japanese cooking, however, I find myself paying closer attention to what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. Why am I soaking these Japanese sweet potato chunks in baking soda? Or adding saké and soy sauce to this stock? How about adding the ingredients in one particular order? Each step and ingredient in Japanese cooking is calculated and precise. Like a Japanese gardener, Japanese cooks know that good food comes with work, knowledge, and organization.

Today, in my attempt to cook through Elizabeth Andoh’s Washoku cookbook, I made Temple Garden Chowder. I found the entire process as calming and healing as walking through the gardens that surround Japanese temples. Each step, from making the dashi to preparing the vegetables made sense to me. And while the recipe was carefully organized in many ways, it allowed me to be somewhat creative (which is what I love about cooking in general) by adding any vegetables I had piled in my refrigerator.

The light dashi was flavored with a bit of saké and salt, combined with sliced carrots. With the dashi and carrots lightly simmering, I added mushrooms, asparagus, negi (Japanese leek) and satsumaiimo (Japanese sweet potato) that had been briefly pan-fried in a little sesame oil, soy sauce and mirin. The end result was a comforting, nutritious bowl of Temple Garden Chowder that healed our souls after a couple of really difficult days.

Making this soup was like taking a walk after rushing by in a fast car. Suddenly everything was clearer, a little easier to understand, and more fulfilling.

The other day, I sat down on the train next to a man who had about 3 or 4 inches of space to his right. I was sitting on his left, uncomfortably smooshed between the aforementioned man and another, rather large gentleman. Usually, people are perfectly willing to scoot over so that seating is a bit more comfortably spaced. However, this man with the extra room did not seem keen to give me that small amount of space so that I didn’t have to sit with my shoulders scrunched up to my ears and my arms awkwardly wrapped around my bulging 6 months pregnant belly. After the 20 minute train ride, he finally got up and I was able to wiggle my way into the grooves of the blue cushioned seat for the remaining 60 seconds of my trip. The only thing that got me through that experience without completely freaking out was the thought of what I was going to have for dinner when I got home. Yes, food is healing in many ways.

In all seriousness though, Japanese food has been more healing to me now than ever before. I’ve been a much more picky eater recently, thanks to my pregnancy heartburn, and Japanese food has been the only constant variety of food that I can seem to eat on a daily basis. Even during my time in the U.S. this past spring, I spent a lot of time trying to find and prepare Japanese food in my parents’ kitchen in Minnesota. This is also when I realized that I don’t know even a fraction of what I want to about Japanese home-cooking. So, I’m working on that. These moon viewing noodles, or tsukimi udon, were a perfect addition to my slowly expanding repertoire of Japanese dishes.

Moon viewing in Japan happens mid-autumn, usually around the end of September or early October. These noodles are eaten around that time, with egg symbolizing the harvest moon. In a manner similar to that of hanami, or cherry blossom celebrations, moon viewing is a pretty big event. We have not quite reached autumn here in Tokyo, but since many of you reading this are enjoying cooler temperatures and fall weather, I thought you might appreciate this recipe.

In Japan, the egg is often served raw in the bowl of hot broth and noodles, but I prefer mine lightly poached prior to adding it to the bowl. Once the broth and noodles are made, the assembly of the dish takes only about 10 minutes, so make sure everyone is ready to eat right away, since these are not as good if they are too cold. I would suggest making the broth and noodles ahead of time (no more than 2 or 3 days) to save yourself some prep when you decide to serve this dish. The broth is simple to make and easy to store in the refrigerator. For the noodles, simply cook them, run cold water over them immediately after cooking, and store in a ziploc bag. When you’re ready to use them, just run more water over the noodles to loosen them up. The hot broth will heat the noodles through before you serve them.

Moon Viewing Noodles

Slightly adapted from Washoku by Elizabeth Andoh

For the Sanuki Sea Stock:

*You may wish to use regular dashi rather than the sea stock if dried sardines are hard to find. I still like to add the shiitakes to the broth for extra flavor. If you can’t find any of the needed ingredients for sea stock or dashi, try using light chicken broth or vegetable broth. The flavor will be different but still tasty.

4 cups cold water

8 dried sardines

3 pieces of kombu, about 4″x4″ each

5 shiitake mushroom stems or 2 dried shiitakes

For the rest of the dish:

4 teaspoons light soy sauce

2 teaspoons saké

2 teaspoons sugar

4 large eggs

12 ounces dried udon noodles

1 scallion, both green and white parts thinly sliced

In a medium saucepan, add the water, dried sardines, kombu and mushrooms. Allow to sit for about half an hour.

In the meantime, cook your Udon noodles. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add the noodles. Cook for about 4-6 minutes for smaller noodles, a little longer for the thicker noodles. Drain and run under cold water. Set aside.

Place the broth over medium high heat until small bubbles begin to form. Turn the heat down to medium (or adjust accordingly) to maintain a low simmer. Simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and cover for 3-5 minutes. Strain the broth through a coffee strainer fitted with a coffee filter. Set aside.

In a small saucepan, combine the soy sauce, saké and sugar over low heat. Stir until the sugar has just dissolved. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Prepare the serving bowls by dividing 1/4 of the noodles among each dish. Have these nearby so you can easily transfer the egg and broth to the bowls.

In a small saucepan, add 1 cup of the broth and 1/4 of the soy sauce mixture (a scant tablespoon). Bring to a boil. Add one of the raw eggs and poach for about 3 minutes or until desired doneness. Using a slotted spoon, remove the egg and add it to one of the bowls. Using a fine mesh strainer, pour the broth into the bowl being carefully not to break the egg. Repeat this process with the remaining 3 bowls. (You may also poach the eggs all together in water and simply bring the broth and soy mixture to a boil without poaching the eggs in it, though the flavor will not be the same.)

Garnish each bowl with the sliced scallion and serve with chopsticks and a spoon.