Autumn #8: Bibimbap of Love and Pain / 秋＃８：愛と苦痛のビビンバップ

This greeted me at the supermarket today:
今日スーパーに入ったら、この挨拶で迎えた：

A bouquet of chili peppers! It felt like I was being courted by Mother Nature herself. And how could I refuse the great lady?
唐辛子に作られた花束！これで自然の摂理になんぱされた。

Of course I had to make a chili sauce. I got a modest blender and set to work seeding and blending the peppers.
もちろんチリソースを計画した。ちっちゃいミキサーを買って、唐辛子を混ぜた。

Everything seemed to be going well: I caramelized some black sugar and thought of what sweet heat this little sauce was going to bring into my life. I added the pepper puree (to which I had already added ginger and garlic), and was simmering this brew with a touch of soy sauce, mirin, and rice vinegar when the trouble began.
最初はうまくいった：黒砂糖をカラメルにして、それに唐辛子、ショウガ、ニンニクのペーストと少々の醤油、みりん、酢。でも、その時：

My hands started to burn. I thought perhaps I'd gotten them too close to the flame, so I put ice on them. That alleviated the sensation a bit, but as soon as I removed the cold, the burning began again. There didn't seem to be any external signs of a burn - Ah, but how could I forget? Mother Nature was the same bitch who brought about earthquakes and hurricanes; her little romantic overture was not without its painful side effects. The pepper juice on my hands was crippling them with pain.
手に燃えたのような痛みが始まった。火に近すぎたかな？でも外面で火傷はどこでも見えなかった。そうだ。地震と台風も与える自然からの贈り物にも思わぬ結果があったね。唐辛子のジュースはこの苦痛の原因であった。

At least the chili sauce turned out well, although I find it appropriate that it resembles fresh blood:
せめてチリソースはうまくできた。流れ血と似てるところも適当かも：

 After a few sessions of soaking my hands in milk, the pain subsided. By that time I felt that I'd completed an entire love affair, from my usual naive enthusiasm through to the pain of reality crushing my illusions. At least the delicious sauce was no illusion. I was able to recognize in the end that Mother Nature, like any other woman, just demands a little respect. Next time, I will come prepared to the battlefield of love. In the meantime, this household will respect the Hague Conventions on Warfare and avoid pepper spray.
 何回も牛乳に手を入れたら痛みを和らげた。まあ、自然の力を尊敬しなければね。





Now, to make a meal to go with this sauce!
でわ、ソースに合わせて料理を作ろう！

I thought I'd like to do a "bibimbap" of sorts. Of course it would be a freestyle fusion cheruteki invention. I marinated eggplant in a soy sauce, sake, garlic, sugar, sesame marinade. Then, I grilled maitake mushrooms and kabocha squash, sauteed fresh garlic stalks, steamed some greens, and cut some cucumbers and avocado. I finally sauteed my eggplant. I assembled all the various ingredients about a serving of rice like so:
チェル的なビビンパップはいかがですか。いいでしょうね。それで、なすを醤油、お酒、さとう、ニンニク、ごまのマリネードに漬けて、焼いた。舞茸、カボチャも焼いた。茎ニンニクを炒めて、キュウリとアボカドを切った。結局この材料をご飯の上にこのように載せた：

 

 Hm...something's missing... なんか、足れないね。

There we go! これだ！

Full of respect for the powers Mother Nature wields, both for good and ill, I tucked into my bowl. 自然の力に対する深く尊敬を込めて、いただきまーす！

All's well that ends well...in my belly.

ごちそうさま！

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。

Neba neba! ねばねば！

Then I simply mixed all three, and poured them over my rice:
この三つを混ぜて、ご飯にかけた：

For seasoning, a little soy sauce and wasabi...
醤油とわさびで味付けして。。。

                          AND EAT IT! 食う食う食う！