Japanese food has a lot of sweet notes, so this was a welcomed break from that. The ginger perfumes the dish, but what makes this addictive is the splash of vinegar. This was a perfect combination of sour and salty, with a hint of sweetness coming from the cabbage itself. I’m endlessly amazed at how a few simple ingredients can transform into something so delicious.

Stir Fried Napa Cabbage | 白菜の炒め物
Adapted from ぜひ覚えたいおかず
Makes 4 servings, as a small side dish

4 Tbsp canola oil, divided
21 oz/600g napa cabbage (about 1/2 small cabbage)
1/3 tsp salt
1-inch section ginger, peeled and sliced thinly
1 Tbsp shoyu
1 tsp rice vinegar
1 tsp katakuriko (potato starch)

In a small bowl, mix the katakuriko with 1 tsp water and set aside. Cut the napa cabbage crosswise in 1–1.5 inch sections and separate white stems from leafy light green ends.

In a 12-inch frying pan, heat 3 Tbsp oil over medium high heat. When the oil is hot, add the white stems and fry until translucent (about 6 mins), stirring occasionally. Add the leafy greens and stir to coat with oil. Add salt and toss to combine. Fry until soft and moisture is released (about 5 mins), stirring frequently. Remove from heat and place the cabbage in a sieve to drain oil and water. Set aside.

Return the pan to the stove and heat 1 Tbsp oil. Add sliced ginger and cook until fragrant, about 1 min. Add shoyu and vinegar, then return the cabbage to the pan and incorporate well with the shoyu and vinegar. Once combined, take the small bowl with the katakuriko mixture and stir with your finger, then drizzle over the cabbage. Quickly incorporate until sauce has thickened.

For me, oshiruko is firmly associated with New Year’s at my aunt Midori’s house in Hiratsuka. My family had a tradition of watching Kouhaku and then, when it struck midnight, we’d walk to the nearby shrine. The whole neighborhood would gather, waiting in line for the first prayer of the new year. As we waited in the cold, volunteers would hand out small portions of oshiruko to everyone. It’s the Japanese equivalent of hot cocoa—sweet, warm, and more importantly, comforting.

This recipe is easy to prepare, but even easier if you have a microwave and blender (I used neither and it was still a breeze). Aside from locating the ingredients, the hardest—and most dangerous—part is cutting into the kabocha. The original recipe says to top with sweetened azuki beans, but I don’t think it needs it.

Entertaining over the holidays? You can make this in advance and warm when you’re ready to serve. It might be a nice surprise ending to an otherwise predictable meal.

Kabocha Shiruko
かぼちゃ汁粉
Adapted from わたしの味びに選んだ80のレシピ
Makes 4 servings

1/8 kabocha (about 8.75 oz / 250 g)
scant 1 cup (200 ml) coconut milk
scant 1/2 cup (100 ml) condensed milk
pinch of salt
7 oz (200 g) shiratamako
1 Tbsp sugar
approximately 1/2 cup (100 ml) water
boiled azuki beans (optional)

Peel the skin off the kabocha with a sharp vegetable peeler and cut into small bite-sized pieces (watch those fingers!). Steam for 4–6 mins OR line a microwave-safe bowl with paper towel, place the kabocha inside, cover with plastic wrap, and microwave for 4 mins. Test doneness by piercing the kabocha with a toothpick or skewer. If firm, cover again and steam/microwave.

If using a blender, put the kabocha in a blender with the coconut milk and condensed milk and blend until smooth.

If doing this by hand, mash the kabocha in a bowl (if you used the microwave, just remove the paper towel). I then passed it through a sieve, but if you have a nice consistency, I don’t think you need this step.

Whisk together the kabocha, coconut milk, and condensed milk in a pan over low heat. Add a pinch of salt. While this is warming, prepare the shiratamako by placing it in a bowl with the sugar and adding water very slowly. Once it forms a dough about the softness of your earlobe, divide into 12 pieces and roll to form a ball.

Bring a pot to boil and cook the shiratama until they float to the surface. This indicates they are done. Strain excess water and serve in a small bowl with the kabocha soup. Top with azuki beans, if using.

Yes, it would be. So I tried it at home and can confirm my suspicions to be true! The nori takes it to the next level. Perhaps the umami factor is at play here? Whatever the case, I love, love, love it! I also did another version with shiso. I know, I know… enough with the shiso. It was good, for sure, but I think just the nori keeps things simple, as they should be.

When I’m lazy, I use the Trader Joe’s ball of pizza dough. When I’m up for it, I use the recipe from The New Best Recipe. It’s considerably better to make it at home, but sometimes I just don’t have the time. I’ve also added ricotta in my version, but not entirely necessary.

Nasu Pizza
Makes 2 to 3 servings

2 small Japanese eggplant
olive oil
salt
pepper
pizza dough (when I’m lazy I use the Trader Joe’s pizza dough. When I’m feeling up to it, I use The New Best Recipe pizza dough recipe)
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
8 oz. fresh mozzarella, thinly slice into rounds
fresh ricotta
nori

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Trim the top of the eggplant and slice thinly lengthwise. Place in a bowl and add a generous amount of olive oil, a couple of pinches of salt and pepper, and toss with your hands, making sure the eggplant is evenly and well coated. Lay the eggplant flat on a baking sheet and roast for about 10 mins. Keep an eye on them—cooking times will vary depending on their thickness. Once soft and just starting to brown, remove from the oven and set aside to cool.

Increase the oven to 500 degrees. Roll or stretch out the pizza dough and place on a baking sheet. Evenly distribute the toppings—first the mozzarella, then garlic, eggplant, and dot with spoonfuls of ricotta. Bake for 8–10 mins, keeping a close eye. When the cheese is bubbly and the crust is starting to brown, remove from the oven. Sprinkle with nori, cut into slices, and serve.

Now, what to do with the simple syrup? After a quick survey on Facebook (out of which came some fantastic ideas like strawberry shiso sorbet!), I went with my friend Gena’s suggestion of shiso lemonade. Using lemons is brilliant because it brings back some of the brightness the steeped shiso had lost.

An interesting fact I learned about shiso is most of the flavor and fragrance comes from the back side of the leaf. Be careful when handling and washing—don’t wipe the scent off before using!

Shiso Infused Simple Syrup
Adapted from Spilled Milk
Makes about 2 cups

2 cups water
1 cup sugar
20 large green Japanese shiso leaves, roughly sliced into medium strips

Bring the water and sugar to boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally until the sugar has dissolved. Continue to boil for 10 mins. Add the shiso, gently stir, cover, and let sit for an additional 10 mins. Fish out any shiso bits and chill in a container.

Shiso Lemonade
Adapted from Spilled Milk
Makes about 2 quarts

1.5 cups shiso infused simple syrup
1 cup fresh lemon juice
2 cups ice cubes
4 cups sparkling water, plus more to taste

Mix together all ingredients, taste and adjust, then pour over ice (a splash of vodka also wouldn’t hurt).

But reading about Sukiyaki Don in Harumi Kurihara’s Your Japanese Kitchen 1, I was surprised how quickly and easily this comes together. The eating experience is different of course, but the recipe is great for a fast but hearty and satisfying one-bowl meal.

I love the bitterness of shungiku (garland chrysanthemum) in hot pots and dishes like this sukiyaki. The market didn’t carry it, so I had to make due with napa cabbage and chard. If you find it, use it and you’ll see how great it tastes alongside a piece of sweet meat. I know people have a strong dislike for beni shoga, but if you use it in moderation, I think it punctuates the dish nicely, making the flavors more layered. Also, I cooked this in two batches because it didn’t all fit in my 12″ skillet.

Sukiyaki Don (Sukiyaki on Rice)
Adapted from Your Japanese Kitchen
Makes 4 servings

canola oil
200 g. thinly sliced beef
2 Japanese leeks (I used 2 small American leeks)
200 g. konnyaku noodles
1 package grilled tofu
1 package enoki
1/3 bunch shungiku (I used 1/4 napa cabbage and a couple of leaves of chard)
100 ml mirin
100 ml sake
100 ml shoyu
2 Tbsp. sugar
4 eggs
beni shoga

Bring a small pot of water to boil. Meanwhile, cut leeks into 1/2 inch pieces diagonally. Drain the tofu and cut into 8 pieces. Cut the shungiku (or napa cabbage and chard) into bite-sized pieces. When the water comes to a boil, blanch the konnyaku noodles and drain. When the noodles are cooled, cut into bite-sized pieces.

Make the sauce by combining the mirin, sake, shoyu, and sugar in a bowl and whisk.

In a large skillet, over medium heat, add a small amount of oil and fry the leeks (and the thick parts of the napa cabbage, if using), and beef until browned. Add the noodles, tofu, and enoki (and leafy parts of the napa cabbage and chard, if using). Immediately pour the sauce mixture over the entire pan and let simmer for a couple of minutes. Turn pieces of tofu and other ingredients, lower the heat, cover and continue to simmer until the vegetables are cooked, about 5 minutes. In the sukiyaki pot, add the shungiku and cook until heated through. In a separate pot, poach the eggs.

Put rice in a serving bowl and top with sukiyaki, poached egg, and garnish with shoga.

I say this surprisingly because the recipe was relatively simple. Slices of pork loin (I used kurobuta from the Japanese market) goes in a quick 5 minute marinade, gets a coat of katakuriko (potato starch), then pan fried and cooked in a shoyu, mirin, and sugar. Then it’s topped on a bowl of rice sprinkled with slivers of shiso and nori. Done! It’s that easy.

The katakuriko creates this amazing gooey coating that absorbs the salty-sweet sauce. The chewy pork, the sticky rich sauce, a hint of ginger from the marinade, and the pungent shiso (I don’t know what it is about shiso, but damn! It elevates any dish) are simple ingredients transformed into a satisfying mouthful. A mouthful of umami.

You must make this.

Also, a word about the word kuwayaki. Kuwa means hoe and yaki means broiled, pan fried, baked, etc. (as in teriyaki, yakiniku, yakisoba, yaki imo). According to my mom, this method of cooking was traditionally used by farmers because they would use the flat part of the hoe as a pan for cooking.

Kuwayaki Pork Donburi
Adapted from ぜひ覚えたいおかず
Makes 2 servings

5.5 oz. pork loin (I bought pork loin for tonkatsu and sliced it half so it wasn’t as thick)
3-4 Tbsp. katakuriko (potato starch)
2 Tbsp. canola oil
3 shiso leaves, chiffonade
1/4 sheet toasted nori, cut with kitchen scissors into thin strips
rice

For the marinade
1 Tbsp. shoyu
1/2 Tbsp. sake
1 tsp. fresh ginger juice

For the sauce
1 1/2 Tbsp. shoyu
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. mirin
1 Tbsp. water

Combine the marinade ingredients in a plate or shallow bowl and add the pork. Let it sit for 5 minutes.

Put the katakuriko in a large plate. When the pork has finished marinating, drain the excess marinade and dip the pork into the plate of katakuriko. Make sure it’s evenly coated, then shake off any excess.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat and fry the pork so both sides turn a golden brown. If doing this in batches, be sure to add enough oil with each batch so the pork sizzles. Combine the sauce ingredients in a small bowl and add to the pork. Cook until most of the liquid is absorbed.

Assemble the donburi with hot rice on the bottom, add the shiso and nori, and top with the pork.

The filling is made with pork belly, which I bought thinly sliced at the Japanese grocery store, then chopped into small bits at home. It’s mixed with green onions, fresh ginger juice, pepper, tien mien jiang, shoyu, sake, and sesame oil. This is weird to say about raw meat, but as I was mixing the ingredients, the aroma was delicious!

After browning and steaming for a few minutes, a mixture of warm water and katakuriko (potato starch) is poured in to create a light and crispy crust.

Fried Gyoza
Makes 4 servings (about 36 pieces)
Adapted from ぜひ覚えたいおかず

3/4 lb. thinly sliced pork belly, chopped
5 stalks green onions, white and green parts chopped
1/4 tsp. ground pepper
1 tsp. ginger juice (I grate the ginger, then squeeze the juice out)
1 Tbsp. sake
1 1/2 Tbsp. shoyu
1 1/2 Tbsp. tien mien jiang
1 Tbsp. sesame oil
1 package gyoza wrappers
canola oil
1 Tbsp. katakuriko (potato starch)

In a medium bowl, combine the pork, ground pepper, ginger juice, sake, shoyu, tien mien jiang, and sesame oil. Mix with chopsticks or a fork. Add the green onions and mix until just incorporated.

Take one gyoza wrapper and place about a teaspoonful of filling in the center. Gently pat the filling down and roughly shape into a rectangle across the center of the wrapper. Dab your finger in a small bowl of water and dot the top of the wrapper. Fold the wrapper in half, align the edges, and pinch. The dot of water creates a seal. Set aside gyoza in a plate or baking sheet and repeat until you use up the filling. You should have extra wrappers leftover, which I usually put in a ziplock and freeze for later use.

Heat the oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over a high flame. Make sure the oil is evenly distributed and add 12 pieces of gyoza, in 2 rows of 6. Fry until the bottoms are lightly browned. Add 1/8 cup of water and immediately cover, reduce to medium heat, and steam for 2–3 minutes.

Meanwhile, dissolve the katakuriko in 1/2 cup warm water. Remove the cover from the pan and pour 1/3 of the katakuriko mixture around the edges of the gyoza. Be sure to stir the katakuriko and water again before you pour because the starch sinks to the bottom quickly. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and check occasionally to see if the water has boiled off and the katakuriko becomes dry around the edges.

Uncover, increase the heat to high, and fry until the edges are brown and crispy. Repeat with remaining gyoza. Serve with shoyu, vinegar, and ra-yu for dipping.

You can also place the sheet of uncooked gyoza in the freezer (making sure they are not touching each other) and transfer to a ziploc once they are frozen. To cook, just place the frozen gyoza in the hot pan directly and cook as directed above.

But this recipe isn’t about kabocha, but about two of my favorite things: bacon and shiso! Oh, and let me tell you—it was as delicious as it sounds. Shiso is wonderfully fragrant. Sometimes used in sushi as an accent, fried in tempura batter, or pickled, shiso’s distinctively bright flavor makes it one of my favorite herbs. Add bacon and how can you go wrong?

We’ve started eating brown rice, but I have to admit I don’t like it with certain traditional dishes. Surprisingly, I prefer brown rice in this dish because it gives a nice hearty chew. Remember to use rice that’s been cooked and refrigerated for 2 days. Fresh rice will be too sticky and make it hard to incorporate the ingredients. For me, 2 days in the fridge is optimal because the rice has the right firmness.

I’m disregarding any past attempt at fried rice. This one’s a keeper.

Bacon and Shiso Fried Rice
Adapted from きょうの料理 2000年9月号
Makes 2 servings

8 ounces cooked rice, refrigerated for 2 days
2 strips of bacon, sliced thinly
10 shiso leaves, halved lengthwise, then sliced in thin strips
1 large egg
1/4 onion, chopped
1/2 tsp fresh ginger, minced
1 Tbsp. oil
1 tsp. sake
3/4 tsp. shoyu

Crack the egg in a small bowl and add a pinch of salt, pepper, a dash of sesame oil, and whisk well. Set aside.

Heat a wok or large pan over medium heat and add bacon. Fry until almost crispy and let cool on a paper towel-lined plate.

Clean the wok with a paper towel, heat the oil over medium heat, and coat the bottom and sides well. Turn down the heat to low and add the ginger and onion and cook until fragrant. Increase the heat to high and add the rice, breaking up clumps with the back of a wooden spoon and continue stirring until everything is incorporated. Add the bacon and toss to mix. Make a well at the center and pour the egg and scramble. Toss to combine.

Add the sake and shoyu, then salt and pepper to taste. Toss until combined. Turn off the heat, mix in the shiso leaves and serve.

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I usually buy the Trader Joe’s brand albacore tuna in water because it’s relatively inexpensive and the meat is nice and dense. Recently, we bought Chicken of the Sea, and though it’s cheaper, the meat was mush. For this recipe, you want to end up with a very dry and flaky tuna, and it took this brand a lot longer to cook the moisture off.

I finished it off with shichimi, but next time pickled ginger would give it a more appropriate punch… oh, and some tobiko would be divine.

Tuna Avocado Donburi
Makes 2 servings

½ tsp oil
1 can tuna, drained
1 tsp shoyu
1¼ tsp sugar
1 tsp sake
½ sheet nori, cut into thin strips with kitchen shears
1 avocado, mashed
steamed rice
shichimi

Heat the oil over medium high heat. Fry the tuna in the pan for a couple of minutes until the moisture has evaporated. Add the shoyu, sugar, and sake and continue to cook until the liquid has cooked off and you’re left with dry, flaky tuna.

Assemble the donburi with hot rice on the bottom, then add nori, tuna, and avocado. Sprinkle with shichimi and serve.

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