Sometimes it’s hard to modernize traditional dishes successfully, but this is a good example of it. Even though this isn’t a typical chirashi, it manages to keep the essence and spirit of the original dish. I picked this recipe only because the ingredients were accessible, so I was surprised at how much I liked it. This dish would go well with miso soup and a simple nimono (stewed or braised dish). I hope you have a chance to make it!

Tuna Chirashi with Snow Peas | Tsuna Soboro to Kinusaya no Chirashizushi
Adapted from きょうの料理ビギナーズ（2010年３月号）
Makes 2 servings

15 snow peas
1 can solid tuna packed in oil, drained
1/2 tsp. curry powder
1 tsp. shoyu
pinch of salt
pinch of finely ground pepper
14 oz. sushi rice (recipe below)

Blanch the snow peas by cooking in boiling water for 1 minute, drain, then shock them in a bowl of ice water. Drain well and pat dry with a paper towel. Trim ends and cut diagonally into 1/2″ pieces.

In a small pan, cook the tuna over medium heat. With the back of a wooden spoon, break up the pieces of tuna into small flakes. Add the curry powder, shoyu, salt, and pepper. Mix until well combined and then turn the heat off and set aside.

In a large bowl, add the sushi rice (you can use the bowl you were using to mix and cool the vinegared rice) and the tuna. Mix until well incorporated, then add the snow peas and fold in.

Sushi Rice
14 oz. cooked short-grain rice
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
1 2/3 tsp. sugar
2/3 tsp. salt

Heat the vinegar, sugar, and salt in a small pan over low heat and whisk until the sugar and salt is dissolved. Set aside to cool.

Put the hot rice in a large bowl. Take the rice scoop and hold it over the bowl with the flat side parallel to the counter. Slowly pour the vinegar mixture onto the scoop and rotate around so the vinegar mixture pours evenly around the rice. Mix the rice quickly to combine, then fan the rice to cool. Don’t mix the rice too much at this point, otherwise the rice will become mushy. I mixed the rice a total of 2-3 times when fanning, just to make sure the rice was completely cool. When you mix, do it in a folding/cutting motion, being careful not to crush the rice. The rice is ready once it has completely cooled.

You can see in the photo below that this was supposed to be like a crispy rice pancake cut into neat wedges. But, you can judge how things went when I tried this at home. Disaster. I tried it a couple of times, but my version was not holding together. Maybe the variety of rice I’m using isn’t sticky enough? In any case, I’m not going to dwell on my shortcomings, but embrace them!

If we overlook the difficulty of flipping this baby in the skillet, the recipe uses simple ingredients and is easy to prepare. The combination of miso, sake, and mirin creates a complex flavor that is punctuated with the soft leeks. I recommend eating this right away as it doesn’t reheat well.

Crispy Miso Rice with Leeks | Negimiso iri Okoge Gohan
Adapted from きょうの料理ビギナーズ（2010年３月号）
Makes 2 servings

1 1/2 cups cooked short-grain rice
1 large egg
1/2 leek
2 Tbsp. miso
1 tsp. sake
1 tsp. mirin
canola oil

Trim the leek and cut in half lengthwise. Slice leeks crosswise in 1/4 inch thick half moons. Place in a bowl, rise with water, and dry with towels or spin dry.

In a large bowl, combine miso, sake, and mirin and whisk until smooth. Add the egg and whisk until well mixed. Add rice and mix well with a rice paddle or spatula. Finally, add leeks and fold into the rice mixture.

Heat a 1 tsp. of oil in a 10 inch non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add the rice mixture, shape into a round disc, and flatten with a rice paddle. Keep pressing the rice and cook for about 3 minutes.

Flip as best you can by placing a plate over the skillet and flipping the rice onto the plate. (I wasn’t very successful at this, but do the best you can!) Add 1 tsp. of oil to the skillet, then slide the rice back onto the skillet to cook the other side. Again, press the rice and cook for 3 minutes.

If you’ve managed to keep the rice in a pancake shape, bravo! Transfer to a cutting board and cut into 6 wedges. If not, take my lead and don’t sweat it. Serve it up like that’s how it’s suppose to be—it might not look as pretty, but it’ll taste the same.

Instead of being light and airy, mine were dense, tough, and more cake-like. I kicked myself because I know better than to deviate from directions on a first try. I was frustrated and disappointed because after tasting one, the rest went straight into the garbage. I’ll spare you my disastrous attempt and pass on the instructions as they were sent to me. With my confidence shaken, I’ll need some time to recover before giving these a fair shot. You’re smarter than I am and for you, I’m positive these will be everything my mom says they were!

My aunt, who lives in Japan, made this after hearing my mom rave about it but quickly decided it was not worth the effort. Apparently in Japan, tofu donuts are not so novel and all donut shops carry them!

1 pkg (150g) Morinaga Hot Cake Mix
150g med. firm (momen) tofu
2 tsp sugar
oil for deep frying (new oil is better—I used brown rice oil)

Mash tofu with your fingers or pass the tofu through a sieve and into a medium bowl. Add the sugar and cake mix to the tofu and quickly mix well with a rubber spatula. It may look dry at first, but after mixing it’ll be fine.

Shape the dough as you like. I shaped them into balls, but you can also make ring donuts and donut holes. Heat oil to 300 to 320 degrees and deep fry donuts until golden brown. Drain on a paper towel-lined plate or baking sheet. Sprinkle with sugar or dip in chocolate and serve.

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 received a bag full of Meyer lemons last week (thank you, Amy!) and so the experiment began. Lemon bars seemed the perfect thing to modify. I get nervous altering a baking recipe, so I was timid, but the result was pretty good. I added the mochiko after making the curd and stirred in milk to balance the amount of liquid. I baked it a little longer—just enough so the side and top were starting to brown.

The mochiko made the lemon curd firm up, so it’s less custardy and made the final bar less sweet. Sometimes lemon bars are tooth-achingly sweet, so I liked this version better. But next time, I’m going to assert myself more and increase the mochiko so it really takes on a sticky chew.

Lemon Mochi Bars
Adapted from The New Best Recipe
Makes 16 bars

Crust:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 stick unsalted butter, softened but still cool, cut into 1-inch pieces

Filling:
7 large egg yolks and 2 large eggs
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. sugar
2/3 cup lemon juice (I used 4 large Meyer lemons—the size of oranges)
1/4 cup or more finely grated zest
pinch salt
1/2 stick unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
1/2 cup milk or heavy cream
1/2 cup mochiko

Grease a 9-inch square baking pan and fold 2 pieces of parchment paper into the pan like a cross. Make sure you push the paper into the corners and up the sides of the pan.

For the crust, place the flour, confectioner’s sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl and whisk to combine. Add the butter and cut into the flour using 2 butter knives or a pastry blender until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle the mixture into the prepared pan and press firmly with your fingers or with the bottom of a flat glass.

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and heat to 350 degrees. Bake the crust until golden brown, about 20 minutes.

For the filling, whisk together the egg yolks and whole eggs in a medium nonreactive bowl. Add the sugar and whisk until just combined. Add the lemon juice and zest and the salt; whisk until combined. Transfer the mixtue to a medium nonreactive saucepan, add the butter pieces, and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the curd thickens to a thin sauce-like consistency and registers 170 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, about 5 minutes. Immediately pour the curd through sieve set over a clean nonreactive bowl. Stir in the milk or heavy cream and mochiko and pour the curd onto the warm crust immediately.

Bake until the filling is opaque and starting to brown on the sides and top, about 25-30 minutes. Cool on a wire rack to room temperature, about 45 minutes. Remove the bars from the pan using the parchment overhang. Cut into bars and serve.

I took liberties in making some adjustments. He gently sautes leeks, but I combined a wedge of yellow onion and stalks of green onion because that’s what I had in the fridge. Also, I added the shoyu in the pan instead of drizzling it over the rice after it’s been served. Cooking the shoyu gives it more intensity and a bit of a burnt flavor, which I like. I used brown rice, but I think this would taste more interesting with white rice because the crispy garlic and ginger would stand out against a smoother grain. This is such a simple dish—and I very much liked it—but I think it would be better as an accompaniment to a main dish.

Fried Rice with Crispy Garlic and Ginger
Adapted from The New York Times
Makes 4 servings

1/2 cup canola oil
2 Tbsp. garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. ginger, minced
Salt
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
2 stalks green onion, chopped
4 cups day-old cooked rice (I used short-grain brown rice)
4 large eggs
2 teaspoons sesame oil
4 teaspoons soy sauce

In a large skillet, heat 1/4 cup oil over medium heat. Add garlic and ginger. Cook, stirring occasionally, until crisp and brown. With a slotted spoon, transfer to paper towels and salt lightly.

Reduce heat under skillet to medium-low and add 2 tablespoons oil and yellow onions. Cook about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until very tender but not browned. Season lightly with salt. Raise heat to medium and add rice and green onions. Cook and stir to combine. Pour shoyu around the perimeter of the pan and add the sesame oil. Stir to combine.

In a nonstick skillet, fry eggs in remaining oil, sunny-side-up, until edges are set but yolk is still runny.

Serve rice topped with fried egg and a sprinkle of crisped garlic and ginger.

But before I get into that, I have to mention I’ve fallen into a slump. I was home alone, which means I usually revert to eating like a college student. Mac and cheese with a squeeze of sriracha, instant ramen topped with kimchee, and rice with fried egg drizzled with shoyu… you get the idea. Since the most rewarding part of cooking is sharing the meal with others, the process of cooking now felt laborious. Without mouths to feed, my motivation dissipated.

But I decided to cook at least one meal for myself during this time alone. I’d been eyeing this curry for a long time, and now that the weather demanded something hearty and warm I made up my mind to make it. I could freeze a portion for later and still the remainder would feed me for days.

The kabocha, green beans, renkon, and eggplant are deep fried before going into the pot. The recipe called for a small portion of sliced beef and a bouillon cube so it’s not a vegetarian recipe, but it could be very easily adapted. The key is to taste along the way and modify as you see fit. I tend to like my curry very spicy and on the watery side. I could’ve used more heat, so I’ll have to remember that for next time.

Vegetable Curry
Adapted from きょうの料理 (June 2000)
Makes 6 generous servings

Like many dishes of this kind, the flavors are better on the second day. The eggplant and tomato will have melted into the curry by this time, so add more to the pot, if you like.

7 oz. kabocha, cut into bite-sized pieces
1/2 renkon (lotus root), peeled then cut into bite-sized pieces
2 Japanese eggplant, cut into bite-sized pieces
10 green beans, cut in half crosswise
1 large tomato, cut into large bite-sized pieces
1 package shimeji mushrooms, trimmed
1/4 lb. beef, sliced thin
1 tsp. ground cumin
ginger, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 onion, chopped
1/2 cup red wine
bouillon cube
3 1/2 cups water
6.5 oz. curry flakes
2 Tbsp. tonkatsu sauce
canola oil

Start by deep frying the kabocha, eggplant, renkon, and green beans. Heat the oil to 350 degrees. Fry until light brown (the eggplant is quick, so keep a watchful eye!) and drain on a plate lined with a paper towel.

Next, heat 1 Tbsp. of oil in a large pot over low heat. Once the oil is hot, add the ginger, garlic, and cumin. Cook until fragrant, about a minute. Turn the heat to medium low and add the onions and cook until softened, about 6 minutes. Add the sliced beef into the pot and cook until no longer red. Add the wine, bouillon cube, and water to the pot and stir. Cook uncovered for 20 minutes. Carefully ladle out any impurities.

Turn off the heat and add the curry flakes, fried vegetables, tomatoes, shimeji, tonkatsu sauce, and 1 cup of hot water. You could add 1/2 cup at a time, if you like, to get the desired consistency. I tend to add more than enough water, then cook down. Simmer over low heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serve with steamed rice, fukujinzuke, and hard boiled egg.

Don’t be afraid to brown edges on these babies—the crusty texture gives a nice contrast to the sticky innards. See the photo above? It could’ve stayed in the oven a bit longer, so be not afraid! The cake will stay moist. You could also drop a dollop of anko in the center or play around with other mix-ins. They’re only good for 2 days tops, so be sure you have hungry mouths to feed!

Matcha Mochi Cupcakes
Adapted From Otoki
Makes 24 cupcakes

1 (1 lb.) box mochiko
1 1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. matcha
3 eggs
1 1/2 cup milk
3/4 cup oil

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Whisk all the dry ingredients in a medium bowl and set aside. In a large bowl, combine the eggs, milk, and oil. Add dry ingredients and stir until incorporated. Spoon batter in a muffin pan lined with baking cups and bake for 30 to 40 minutes.

My grandmother is big on kabocha, saying it prevents cancer. She’s from Hiroshima, which means she calls kabocha “nankin” and says other endearing words in the Hiroshima dialect like “houjyaken no” and “sou desu waine.” She practically lived in the kitchen and made real down-home Japanese food. She cooked for us daily, but she always ate yesterday’s leftovers. My grandmother’s generation, having lived through the difficult post-war years, didn’t waste a thing. She’s the kind of person who put everyone else first as she scraped the cold rice to eat for herself.

I was young and not yet interested in cooking, but I wish I had stuck by her side to watch her work her magic. I still learned a lot from her by way of eating and this is one dish I cannot make without thinking of her.

Stewed Kabocha
Adapted from ぜひ覚えたいおかず
Makes 4 servings

21.25 oz. kabocha
1 cup dashi
2 Tbsp. oil
2 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. mirin
1 Tbsp. shoyu

Wash and seed the kabocha and cut into large bite-sized pieces. With a vegetable peeler, swipe the edge off the corners where the skin meets the flesh, on all 4 sides (if your kabocha is cut roughly into cubes). With a knife, peel off parts of the skin—not completely, just in some places so the skin isn’t too tough when cooked.

Heat oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the kabocha and mix to coat with the oil. The kabocha will begin to change color, becoming a brighter orange. At this point, add the dashi, bring to a boil and carefully remove any impurities that rise to the surface. Since pot sizes vary, be sure there’s enough dashi so the kabocha barely peek out and adjust the other seasonings accordingly. Add the sugar and mirin and fit a plate inside the pot—upside down on top of the kabocha—and let cook for 4–5 minutes. Add shoyu, lower the heat, and cook for another 10 minutes. Occasionally swirl the pot around so the dashi mixture coats the kabocha. Taste the dashi and add more shoyu or mirin if necessary. Insert a toothpick into a piece of kabocha and if it slides easily, it’s done!

This will keep for a few of days and the flavors will meld nicely. The stewed kabocha is also delicious eaten cold.

No, something was missing. The recipe was on the right track, but the flavors didn’t come through like I had expected. I was hoping for something close to the American version, but it was nothing like it. But I’m not giving up on it! Maybe next time I’ll take a cue from the Germans and let the hot potatoes soak up some vinegar and shoyu to give it more flavor. Or I’ll use mayonnaise instead of the tofu. Health-wise, cutting out the mayo was a great idea, but who are we kidding? Tofu is never a sufficient substitute for mayo.

Japanese New Potato Salad
Adapted from Japanese Pure and Simple
Makes 4 servings

14 oz. new potatoes, washed and scrubbed
10.5 oz. silken tofu
1/2 Tbsp. sesame paste (or smooth peanut butter)
1 1/2 Tbsp. white miso
1 1/2 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. light shoyu
1 tsp. mirin
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar
1 stalk green onion, chopped

Double up 2 paper towel sheets (or use a kitchen towel) and carefully wrap the tofu. Set in a strainer and let sit for a couple of hours to drain.

In a medium bowl, combine the peanut butter, miso, sugar, shoyu, mirin, vinegar. Add the tofu and with a fork or a whisk, break up the tofu and mix until well incorporated.

Boil the potatoes until a knife easily passes through, about 5-8 minutes, depending on the size of your potatoes. Drain and once cool to touch, peel the skin off with your fingers by pinching the skin and slipping off in pieces. Place the potatoes in a bowl and add 5-6 tablespoons of the tofu mixture, sprinkle with green onions and serve.

The tofu mixture is best eaten the day it’s made, but can be kept in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. You can also serve this as a dip for vegetables.