How to improvise with nabe (Japanese hot pot)

delicious nabe ready to eat

delicious nabe ready to eat

One of the most comforting things to make when the weather turns cold is nabe ryouri (Japanese hotpot cooking). I think of nabe as the opposite and equally satisfying seasonal meal of cold somen in the middle of the summer's heat. In Japan, the common cooking method involves heating broth or water in a clay pot (called donabe) over a portable stove at the table. It wasn't until a few years ago that my fairly narrow concept of nabe was liberated by the book Japanese Hot Pots (Ono & Salat). While the traditional method is lots of fun, we don't necessarily need the special equipment in order to experience delicious nabe cooking. Learning how to improvise is just a matter of understanding the key points, and our reward is freedom to try whatever we want to.

Here are my guidelines:

1. The cooking vessel – a donabe is great, but any large pot or pan works just fine. I use an enameled cast iron pan, which has the advantage of retaining heat after it comes off the stove. A lid is needed.

2. The liquid – homemade dashi is what I use most, but any fish, vegetable, poultry, or meat stock will work. Even using granulated instant dashi or concentrated broth in jars (such as Better Than Bouillon brand) will make good nabe. The main thing to watch is the salt level, knowing that you can always add more later.

3. The ingredients – this is where we want an open and adventurous perspective. Vegetables, fish, tofu, meat, noodles, and anything else in the fridge can be considered. Some things require more time to cook: for example, I will place daikon on the bottom and start cooking before adding fresh greens like shungiku (chrysanthemum leaf) or delicate things like cod fillets. When everything is added to a dry pan before pouring the liquid in, your beautiful arrangement will stay intact during cooking.

4. The shime – meaning to "tie up," the shime is how nabe dining is concluded, with a starch such as rice, noodles, or mochi. After all of the ingredients have been simmered, the delicious broth is most valuable and a neutral flavor vehicle is used to enjoy the broth and make sure we are satisfied. I don't see any good reason to exclude other starches like bread, crackers, potato, pasta, flat breads, beans, or other whole grains.

As an example, here is how I typically do nabe.

ingredients for classic dashi

ingredients for classic dashi

First I soak some konbu in 4 cups of cold water (for better flavor extraction and fuller bodied broth) for 30 minutes to several hours depending on my schedule. Then I will shave the katsuobushi while the konbu water heats on the stove. As it comes to a boil, the konbu comes out and the katsuobushi goes in. I let it steep for 10-20 minutes off heat and then strain. To this dashi, I add 1/3 cup usukuchi shoyu and 1/3 cup mirin. These flavorings can be switched out with miso, salt, fish sauce, kimchi, spices, or anything to get the salt level into the appropriate range. 

ingredients in the pan before adding liquid

ingredients in the pan before adding liquid

Next, I start cutting and arranging ingredients into the dry pan. Here, I have daikon and dry harusame scattered on the bottom. In the middle is medium firm tofu cut into 2 - 3cm blocks, which is another excellent flavor vehicle when simmered in broth. Around the tofu are enoki and shimeji mushrooms (the more mushroom varieties, the better), hakusai, negi, gobo fish cake, and shungiku. Cutting diagonally helps increase surface area, allowing for better flavor transfer. Because the quality of these ingredients is directly related to how the broth tastes, I tend to be flexible, letting freshness and integrity dictate what goes in rather than what might be 'proper.' In my example, I have several areas covered: oniony negi, meaty mushroom, fish cake richness, and added dimension from roots and greens. The noodles and tofu soak up flavor and provide contrasting texture.

hanging out by the heat vent until the kotatsu is turned on

hanging out by the heat vent until the kotatsu is turned on

Once the ingredients are all arranged, I pour the liquid in, cover, and place over high heat. As it starts to bubble, lower the heat and let boil gently until the hardest ingredient is soft enough for your liking (in this case daikon). Then, simply place the whole pot in the center of the table with spoons and chopsticks nearby. The common way to finish is to boil pre-cooked rice in the broth, helping it to break down a bit and absorb flavor. But I usually just combine the rice and broth in a bowl and enjoy. Try both ways to see if the extra step is worth it.

Nabe is really fun, especially when we allow ourselves the freedom to improvise. Keeping in mind these few guidelines not only helps avoid failures, but also provides a structure in which we can exercises our individual creativity. A very experienced performer and teacher once told me that "improvisation is problem solving." That concept took a while for me to understand, but like many things stated simply, I think it makes a lot of sense. For nabe, the 'problems' could involve what's in the fridge, the limitation of the pan size, what kind of shime to use, the dietary preferences or restrictions of the eaters, and so on. Improvising on the solutions is the fun part, and you get a comfort food that is perfect for winter. I think of pizza as another fun theme to improvise on, but that will have to be covered in a future entry.

8 reasons why all drummers should own "It's About Time"

My well-used copy of the book

My well-used copy of the book

It's About Time by Fred Dinkins is one of the most important books I own. I have practiced and taught material from it extensively for about 10 years and it has tremendously influenced the way I approach timekeeping and ensemble playing. In the foreword, studio drumming legend Harvey Mason writes that the book "is a guaranteed solution to time problems," and likewise I'm convinced that the concepts and exercises presented by Dinkins will produce excellent results for anyone who practices them consistently. Included are two CDs containing exercises, demos, and play-along tracks. Although the book is designed for drumset players, I think it's equally valid for every kind of drummer. I have applied many of the ideas and tools in teaching taiko lessons, workshops, and instructional videos. Here are my top eight reasons why all drummers should own It's About Time.

1. Emphasis on using your voice – Dinkins designed exercises to make us aware of different parts of the subdivision by learning how to sing it while playing a basic beat. It's challenging at first but very rewarding.

2. Excellent CD tracks – there are many practice pieces included, and they serve as useful tests. When my students are able to play the charts comfortably with the recorded music, they pass that lesson and move on to the next. I appreciate the real-world notion of 'either you can do it, or not.'

3. A section covering count offs – counting off a tune might seem like a minor issue, but it's something I take very seriously and emphasize with my students. The exercises in the book help to make your count off tempo consistent with your playing that follows immediately.

4. The 2 & 4 pocket – many styles of music have a backbeat (emphasis on 2 & 4) and working to "bury" the backbeats on the play-along track will help your sense of groove and consistent note placement.

5. Feeling the beat – talking about how the beat can feel on top, in the middle, or behind can be a frustratingly nebulous topic. Dinkins provides clarity by delivering a play-along track where the feel shifts in each new section, requiring the player to adjust slightly but noticeably.

6. Fills workout – another useful tool in the book is a chart where fills are required at the end of every four measures. Each fill must be the length specified, and the play-along track goes silent during these fills. Because fills are a common area of tempo insecurity, this exercise is very useful in improving steadiness and boosting confidence.

7. Hits workout – emphasizing certain accents is another area where the tempo can change, and the play-along track does a great job of addressing this problem. There is also attention on setting up these hits with lead-in fills.

8. The final exam – the very last thing in the book is a chart called "Time Maze" where all of the concepts presented in the book appear in one play-along track. A very welcome bonus: you can hear versions played by Dinkins, Harvey Mason, Ricky Lawson, Dennis Chambers, and several other celebrated drummers. Studying their vastly different approaches to the same piece of music is very eye opening.

Chiles two ways - fermented hot sauce & homemade chili powder

2016 fermented hot sauce - 2 cups

2016 fermented hot sauce - 2 cups

I am a big fan of chiles. There are so many varieties and culinary applications, and they add excitement to almost everything. A few years ago I had a habanero plant that produced an unbelievable amount of peppers, which motivated me to learn how to make my own hot sauce. The two styles I experimented with were the vinegar-based and lacto-fermented versions. It's easy to find out your own preferences – look on the label of your favorite hot sauces. Does it contain vinegar, sugar, spices, etc.? My current default hot sauce recipe couldn't be simpler, and any pepper or combination works well. Because we are relying on natural lactic acid bacteria (lactobacillus) for fermentation, fresh and organic chiles will produce the best results.

2016 Fermented Hot Sauce
habanero chiles
cherry bomb chiles
5% cold brine solution (for example, 1000g water & 50g sea salt)
optional - 1 tablespoon brine from sauerkraut or other lacto ferment

1. Remove stem and seeds from chiles, split in half.
2. Stuff into 1 liter canning jar.
3. Pour brine to cover, close lid tightly.
4. Ferment at room temperature 2 – 4 weeks, release pressure every day or so.
5. Drain and reserve brine, puree chiles while adding desired amount of brine.
6. Label and refrigerate.

warning: there are chile fumes during processing

warning: there are chile fumes during processing

stuff into the jar

stuff into the jar

beautiful color, but the brine will turn cloudy in a few days

beautiful color, but the brine will turn cloudy in a few days

Here are some tips. Use gloves! You might want to use goggles and a mask. An even better idea is to process the chiles outside. Be careful! I always use filtered water to take out the chlorine, which will help with the fermentation. When the brine turns cloudy, the carbon dioxide (CO2) pressure will build more quickly, so loosen and tighten the lid daily. You can also find various lids and airlock systems to let CO2 out and not introduce oxygen. The fermentation time depends on many factors, but I look for firm sourness of the brine to determine when it’s done. The consistency is controlled by how much brine you use when blending. You can also add other flavorings during this final step.

This sauce is very hot and absolutely delicious. I use it as is, or often mixed 50-50 with Shark brand sriracha, which provides some sweetness and depth. It's also fun to mix with ketchup or mayonnaise, especially if they are also homemade. The sauce will easily last a year or two in the fridge as long as you keep it clean. Read The Art of Fermentation by Sandor Katz for information and inspiration while you wait for the fermentation to complete.


dried whole chiles - dry your own or purchase from a quality store

dried whole chiles - dry your own or purchase from a quality store

Homemade Chili Powder
The arrival of winter brings with it the comforting and warming foods like soup, stew, nabe, and various baked things. I really enjoy making my first chili of the season, and learning how to make my own custom chili powder resulted in an unmistakable flavor boost. It's easy and fun to make, but the biggest advantage of home made chili powder is the choice you have regarding what goes into it. And the fresh flavor is unparalleled. For this batch I used cayenne, ancho, casabel, and guajillo chiles, which I got from Penzey's.

The method is simple. Remove the stem and seeds from the chiles and break up into smaller pieces. Toast in a pan (cast iron is best) over medium-low heat, stirring frequently, until fragrant and starting to show wisps of smoke. Allow to cool and grind. I use a clean coffee grinder for bigger batches, but the mortar and pestle works for smaller amounts. At this point you can add herbs and spices to your liking and store in an airtight container. I keep this chili powder simple and add other flavorings during cooking. Remember, chili without cumin is just tomato stew! Toast whole cumin and grind fresh for the best result.

cast iron dutch oven works great for toasting

cast iron dutch oven works great for toasting

I used a coffee grinder for this batch

I used a coffee grinder for this batch


Japan trip Part 3 - food and scenery


This third and final Japan trip recap is about the food and scenery from my recent visit. Eating delicious things is always a major part of my trips there and this time was no exception. The first stop was the famous Omoide Yokocho area in Shinjuku where old, narrow alleys are filled with the smell of yakitori stands grilling meat and vegetables over hot coals.

Here is a fancy sashimi platter at a Kawagoe izakaya that specializes in seafood. A friend mentioned that the beer must be watered down in places like these because they go down too easily.

A friend gave me this Niigata made Echigo IPA to try and it was very good. This is one of the most striking beer cans I've ever seen.

Kawagoe has one of Japan's earliest pioneering craft breweries called Coedo. Adjacent to their cafe-like taproom is a good sushi restaurant where you can order their beer from next door. The session IPA was a great match with the kaisen donburi. Because Kawagoe is known for it sweet potates, Coedo also makes a sweet potato ale that has a beautiful red color and medium-low fruity aroma. The potato flavor is very subtle and I'm not sure I could pick it out in a blind test.

In Nagatoro, you can take the ride in traditional riverboats through the peaceful waters surrounded by spectacular scenery. I didn't go on this trip but the time I did many years ago is still a vivid memory.

In the part 2 entry, I described the local kabuki presentation in Chichibu. In addition to the great theater and music, the food was some of the best on my entire trip. This little plate of soba looks a very simple, but it was made right there with fresh local sobako (buckwheat flour) and the flavor was magnificent. This tray also looks fairly ordinary, but the konnyaku and miso sauce were handmade by a man running a food booth who was happy to answer all of my questions about his process and ingredients. It was unlike any konnyaku I've had – far more flavor than the usual ones. The karaage was also incredibly delicious and paired perfectly with the local sake, which fully expressed Chichibu's pristine water.

Nikko is a popular destination, and I passed through just as the fall colors were ending. The sulfur smell of the natural hot springs was pleasant in the cool, quiet air. Nearby was a roadside stop with food windows, and an unusual fish name caught my eye: おしょろこま (oshorokoma). The man grilling them on the fire explained that it was a kind of iwana (char) from Hokkaido and the name came from the Ainu language. The flavor was very good – mild, fresh, and slightly sweet.

I received this Nagano-made beer from someone who had just visited that area. It was a well made kolsch-style ale, but the unusual feature was the explanation that water from Suwa Onsen (hot spring) was used to brew it. The interesting can illustration shows local attractions such as Suwa Lake, the local shrine and castle, and even the famous Onbashira Kiotoshi festival where people get on top of enormous logs and slide down a steep hill.

Another activity I mentioned in part 2 was the kabuki performance at the national theater in Tokyo. During one of the intermissions, I enjoyed a traditional makunouchi bento. This feast for the eyes was like a continuation of the beautiful staging and costumes of the play, and it was also delicious.

At the Bettara Ichi Festival in Tokyo's Nihonbashi, the featured food is bettara zuke, which is whole daikon pickled in koji. Between the Wakayama Shachu performances (described in Part 1), I walked around the dozens of vendors and tried almost all of the pickles available with the intention of buying some to take home. However, they seemed to all contain sugar and were too sweet for my taste. Perhaps I wanted to cut the lingering sweetness from all the pickle samples because I ended up at a shichimi booth and picked up a custom mixed bag. There were all kinds of festival-style foods available: dango, colorful chocolate covered bananas, and many others.

Not surprisingly, I couldn't get enough shin soba (fresh-flour soba). This double decker with tempura in Nagatoro was exquisite.

Yet another Japanese craft beer that was given to me which I had never heard of, tasted good, and came in an interesting can design.

Kamameshi is one of those nostalgic dishes for me, and unfortunately restaurants specializing in them seem to be disappearing. Happily there was a small restaurant in Asakusa away from the busy touristy area specializing in this cuisine. This mushroom kamameshi was delicious and satisfying. I also had my first-ever taste of hirezake there, which is charred fugu fin dropped in warm sake. It's not something I would look to order again.

More shin soba in Katashina with the people who make the Swiss horns from bent cedar that I described in Part 2. Local beer was ordinary but the soba was incredible.

This cat was napping under an ice cream window. It drew me in and I considered getting a cone until the person working there gave a disinterested look that was rather uninviting. Too bad, because the combination of a cute kitty and a friendly server would have been impossible to resist.

Japan trip Part 2 - seeing concerts, kabuki, and friends


In the Japan trip Part 1 entry, I described the primary reason for my recent trip: Edo Bayashi intensive with Suzuki sensei. In addition to my lessons, there was a lot happening during my stay and I was able to attend some performances and see many friends.


The day after I arrived, I went to see Azusa Yamada's vibraphone trio in Tokyo. We first met almost 2 years ago through another Tokyo musician because I was looking for a vibraphone to rent for a Ginza performance with shakuhachi player Bruce Huebner. Azusa gave us a great rate to rent her Premier vibes for a two-week period, and two things remain in my memory about the instrument: it was one of the heaviest vibes I've ever played on, and there was a low E (which I couldn't get used to and had to cover up with a music stand bag for the gig). Her performance in the intimate space was very good and I especially appreciated all the original material in the program as well as the exciting playing of pianist Sachiko Nakajima.


The next day was the Wakayama Shachu performance at the Bettara Ichi Festival, which I described in Part 1. The day after that was a collaborative concert in Asakusa called Taiko Battle Live, featuring Makoto Yamamoto of Osuwa Daiko. I've known Makoto for several years, having visited him in Nagano as well as presenting Osuwa Daiko for concerts and workshops in Vancouver, BC. The program consisted of original music, solo performances, and some traditional music. It was also a fun surprise to see my very first taiko teacher Saburo sensei in the audience, as he had taught some classical repertoire to Makoto in preparation for this concert.


I enjoyed checking out Hitoshi Hamada perform at his CD release event in Shinjuku. I first met Hamada san in 2005 during a Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble concert tour. This vibraphone and saxophone duo played some very challenging original music and Hamada san sounded great as always. I was there with Bruce and Azusa so we took a group photo after the performance. It's not every day that three vibraphonists are in the same room together.


I was fortunate to see the famous Kabuki play Kanadehon Chushingura at Kokuritsu Gekijou (National Theater) in Tokyo. As part of the theater's 50th anniversary season, the play has been divided into three parts, and I saw the first third. The middle third runs in November and the final third runs in December. Because each part is approximately 6 hours long, the audience is treated to rarely-presented scenes which many kabuki fans have never seen or heard of. Everything was excellent: acting, music, staging, and bento. This was especially meaningful for me because I had been a geza musician (playing nohkan and shinobue) for Portland State University's presentation of Chushingura in February 2016. The video of that performance can be seen here: Chushingura blog entry.


It's always a great pleasure and inspiration to visit Ranjo san at his workshop in Chiba. He continues to answer my questions and share his wealth of knowledge every time I see him. In this photo, Ranjo san is wrapping one of my flutes to prevent a small crack from opening. I also met Fujita san on this recent visit, a great fue player from Akita Prefecture who demonstrated some of the music from his local festival on a Ranjo #4 hayashi fue. For more information about Ranjo san, check out this blog post: Ranjo blog entry.

 


Chichibu in Saitama is a special place. It's best known for the spectacular Yo Matsuri (annual night festival, Dec 2-3) and the music of Chichibu Yatai Bayashi. But there is also a very long history of Ji Kabuki (地歌舞伎, local kabuki) going back to the Edo period. This Hagitaira kabuki stage is at least 170 years old and continues to be used for theater and music. Apparently there are no carpenters in the area who are properly trained to make repairs on such an old building, so they have had to bring experts all the way from Kyushu. I attended the October 30, 2016 event where there were three kabuki presentations: elementary school, middle school, and finally the adult group. The performances were complete with live geza music as well as gidayu chant and shamisen, and the day was interspersed with performances of Chichibu Yatai Bayashi, Tsugaru Shamisen, and Chichibu Ondo. The overall presentation was remarkable, especially considering this very rural setting. Of course the youngest performers were the audience favorites, and the best moment for me was when the little girl finally got a turn on the odaiko, outplaying the previous versions by teenage boys and an adult. And all of the food and drinks I tried during the event were memorably delicious.


Another unique experience was visiting "the Switzerland club of Kanto" in Katashina village of Gunma Prefecture. These remarkable wooden horns are handmade by Kinsaku Hoshino using local cedar. I was told that the curved bottom portion is made out of a naturally shaped section of the branch that was bent by the weight of the heavy snow. Even the mouthpiece (similar to trumpet) is handmade. I was able to get a decent sound right away, so perhaps my music education degree finally came in handy many years later. Hoshino san offered to let me try the carving tool so I carefully took a turn.


Finally, I got to see an incredible concert at Suntory Hall in Tokyo of the incomparable Eitetsu Hayashi. This was a mostly solo performance with the exception of one piece composed by percussionist Midori Takada. They have a long history of working together and this was apparent in their cohesive sound. Eitetsu's concerts are fantastic every single time. Without fail, there are always things I've never seen before, and such consistent creativity and attention to detail is truly breathtaking. Concluding the program was a 20-minute solo odaiko performance, and this was the finest odaiko playing I've ever seen. Absolutely beautiful.