Tekitou: Autumn #3: Edamame and Persimmon Tororo Donburi / 秋＃３：枝豆と柿のとろろどんぶり

There is an expression in Japanese: "Shokuyoku no Aki." It translates into "Appetizing Autumn."　食欲の秋ですね。

I can't even walk down the street without the being stopped in my tracks by the produce spilling out of the mom and pop shops. 今の八百屋で青物大盛り。。。圧倒的な気持ち！

Just last night I couldn't resist the temptation to buy fresh edamame on the stalk. 昨日どうしても新鮮な枝豆を買いたくなってしまった。。。

Afterall, "edamame" does mean "beans on a twig." 枝豆っていうから、枝で買うともっと適当でしょう？

But what to do with them? それで、枝豆とどうすればいいかなー

Then I remembered another fall favorite: the persimmon. そうね！もうひとつの秋の味を思い出した！

I first discovered persimmons as a fifteen-year-old living in Japan. They baffled me. They were like the lovechild of a tomato and an apple. All I knew for certain was that I wanted to eat them. A lot of them.

柿との初めの出会いは１５歳の時だった。日本に来たばかりで、この果実は特に不思議だと思った。トマトとリンゴの隠し子じゃないの？

Whatever it was, it was love at first bite. 一口惚れだった。

Today the weather was perfect for something light, so I thought I would go ahead with my plan, and make an early autumn donburi. 今日の天気も晴れて、ちょうど軽い初秋がおいしいの日。

A donburi is basically a one-bowl rice dish. To bind together the bright green edamame and the vivacious orange persimmon, I turned to the nagaimo, or "long potato."　枝豆と柿を結ぶことを長いもに任せた。

Ain't much to look at, but like so many brutes, the nagaimo has a sensitive interior. いる人間のように外面はひどいけど内面はきれいな長いも。

The inside of this root vegetable, when grated, makes tororo: a cloud of white goo upon which I intended to rest my autumnal jewels. これでとろろの雲の上に枝豆と柿を載せる。

First, I parboiled the edamame and then shelled them. まず、枝豆をゆでて、さやをとった。

Such bright little beans! なんと元気なみどり豆ちゃん！

After dicing the persimmon, I then peeled and grated the nagaimo, filling a bowl with neba-neba : slimy deliciousness. それで柿をさいの目に切って、長いもをおろして、とろろのねばねばを生かした。