The Book: It’s been ages since I’ve done a cookbook review – my last one was way back in August! That’s partly because my cookbook shelves are not just full, but crammed, so last fall I forced myself to take a break from ordering and requesting cookbooks. But when I got back from Asia all that restraint flew out the window – one of the first things I did after getting home was order 4 Japanese and Vietnamese cookbooks, and now I have a sizable stack of books awaiting review sitting next to my desk. I guess it’s time to clean out those cookbook shelves and make room for the new!

Bowl: Vegetarian Recipes for Ramen, Phô, Bibimbap, Dumplings, and Other One-Dish Meals, successfully capitalizes on the intersection of two trends: the rage for “bowl food” and the rising popularity of authentic Asian cuisine in Western cultures. The book covers a lot of cultural ground, ranging from ramen and phô, bibimbap and even polenta, but is fundamentally organized by grain type, starting with wheat (ramen, soba), moving through rice (phô, bibimbap), and then onto other grains and dumplings. The flavors and techniques showcased here are not exactly classic – I’m sure many ramen chefs would cringe to see brussels sprouts and kabocha squash included in a ramen recipe – but they are modern, refreshing, and clever twists on traditional Asian dishes. There were a few flavor combinations that were a bit too far fetched for me (soba, kimchi, and pickled apple?), but far more that sounded absolutely delicious. I particularly love the seasonal variations, like summer ramen with corn, basil, and cherry tomatoes as toppings, or the winter bibimbap with gochujang-roasted sweet potatoes and kale. The dumpling chapter was also intriguing, and even includes an overview of the 5 kinds of dumpling folding styles, which is exactly the type of new-to-me information I love to find in the middle of a cookbook. And although the dishes themselves are a little irreverent, there are some good tips and historical tidbits included – now I know to rinse my ramen noodles post cooking to remove the excess starch and up the “slurp factor,” and that phô is traditionally served for breakfast.

The Food: I have to admit, I was skeptical about how satisfying a vegetarian ramen broth would be. I loved the idea of a light, vegetarian bowl of ramen, but I couldn’t imagine the soup without the salty, golden yellow broth I’d come to revere during our time in Asia. I considered making one of the broth-free recipes for this review, like the leek and mushroom shumai dumplings, but decided that I couldn’t give a fair review of a vegetarian ramen book without making, well, vegetarian ramen. I would put it to the test – could a handful of dried mushrooms, asparagus stems, sheets of seaweed, and a spoonful of miso make a satisfying soup?

I ended up loving the soup. Sure, the broth on its own wasn’t the same as a really perfect chicken broth, but the combination of the noodles, the raw and grassy asparagus, the sweet, crunchy peas, the bright lemon and ginger, the creamy egg, and the charred, bitter but sweet shallots was almost perfect. I went back for seconds and felt nourished and satisfied and happy. The recipe does require dirtying a number of different pots and pans to make all the components, but despite that, it wasn’t very time consuming to pull together.

Recipe Shortlist: Autumn Ramen with Brussels Sprouts, Roasted Mushrooms, and Chili Broth; Vegetairan Curry Laksa; Fennel Pho; Spring Bibimbap with Kimchi, Swiss Chard, and Avocado; Sprouted Lentil Bowl; Edamame Dumplings; Leek and Mushroom Shumai; Chickpea Potstickers

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Disclosure: I received a review copy of Bowl: Vegetarian Recipes for Ramen, Phô, Bibimbap, Dumplings, and Other One-Dish Meals from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, but I was not otherwise compensated and all thought and opinions are my own.

Vegetarian Spring Ramen

Recipe adapted slightly from Bowl: Vegetarian Recipes for Ramen, Phô, Bibimbap, Dumplings, and Other One-Dish Meals. Serves 4.

• 8 oz. asparagus
• 4 dried shiitake mushrooms
• 2 garlic cloves, smashed
• 9 cups water
• Four 2-inch squares of kombu
• 2 TBS minute miso
• 1 tsp sea salt
• 4 large eggs
• 4 oz. sugar snap peas, trimmed of strings
• 2 TBS canola oil
• 3 shallots, peeled and sliced into thin rings
• 12 oz. fresh or frozen ramen noodles
• 4 pinches of freshly grated lemon zest
• 4 tsp freshly grated ginger pulp

1. To make the broth: thoroughly rinse the asparagus, then snap off the tough ends by bending each piece of asparagus in the middle and letting it snap at the natural point. Place the tough ends of the asparagus, the dried mushrooms, garlic, and water in a pot, and bring to a boil. Cover and keep at a low boil for 20-30 minutes. Remove from the heat, add the kombu, and let stand, covered, for 30 minutes. Strain the broth into a clean bowl, discarding the solids. Stir the miso into the hot broth, then taste and adjust seasoning with additional miso or salt as needed.
2. To prepare the ramen toppings: bring a large pot of salted water to a gentle boil. Use a slotted spoon to carefully lower the eggs into the boiling water. Boil the eggs for exactly 7 minutes, then immediately use a slotted spoon to transfer the eggs to an ice bath. Soak in the ice bath until cool, then carefully peel.
3. Add the snap peas to the boiling water you used for the eggs and blanch them until bright green, about 2 minutes, then use a slotted spoon to transfer them to an ice bath. Keep the water at a gentle boil. Use a vegetable peeler to peel the raw asparagus into long, thin strips (like flat noodles), and set aside. Then add the canola oil to a frying pan and heat over medium heat, add the shallots (test one shallot first – it should sizzle as soon as it hits the oil) and saute, stirring frequently, until the shallots are dark brown, about 3 minutes. Remove the shallots to a paper towel-lined plate and salt generously. Set aside.
4. To assemble the ramen: bring the vegetable broth back to a gentle simmer. Add the ramen noodles to the boiling water and cook according to package directions, usually about 2 minutes for fresh noodles. When noodles are tender, use a slotted spoon or skimmer to remove the noodles from the pot and rinse in cold water to remove the excess starch, then quickly dunk them back in the hot water just to reheat them. Add a pinch each of the lemon zest and ginger pulp to each of your serving bowls, then cover with a few ladlefuls of the hot broth and add a serving of noodles. Top each bowl with a handful of the asparagus “noodles,” a few blanched snap peas, a soft-boiled egg, and a spoonful of the fried shallots. Serve immediately.

The post Book Club: Bowl Vegetarian Recipes for Ramen // Spring Ramen appeared first on Katie at the Kitchen Door.

Our trip to Japan this February was one of the best trips I’ve ever been on. I wasn’t expecting it – it was more Trevor’s pick than mine, and despite my best intentions, I really hadn’t planned much other than our accommodations and transportation before we got on the plane from Hong Kong. I think my limited expectations contributed to how much I enjoyed the trip, but even without that, Japan is just a magical place. Despite the language barrier, which is very real, it’s an easy place to travel – safe, friendly, and orderly. If you know and follow the rules and schedules, travel is easy and pleasant. On top of that, Trevor and I were in a very happy place. After a year of hectic travel schedules and stressful jobs, spending 4 weeks together in Hong Kong felt like the exact reminder I needed about how much I love simply spending time with him. Taking that feeling into vacation made the trip that much better.

We flew into Tokyo on a red-eye from Hong Kong. Rather than drag our suitcases through a crowded city, waiting for our hotel room to be available while struggling to keep our eyes open, we chose simply to hop on the Shinkansen from Narita and head straight for Kyoto. It was the right choice – I can’t imagine a better introduction to Japan than beautiful Kyoto. Kyoto is both provincial and timeless, sprawling yet accessible, and filled with so much history and beauty and culture.

We took our time exploring Kyoto, only doing as much as we felt like each day. The morning that we visited Fushimi Inari to see the famous orange torii gates turned into late afternoon when we decided to follow a wooded path through the forest rather than return down the mountain with the crowds. That path led to a moss-covered stone garden, a secret bamboo grove, a farm with grapefruit-laden trees, a blossoming plum tree, and a neighborhood of high-end but very traditional homes, tucked away on a quiet side street. Nishiki market was another treasure – we could have spent the better part of a day trying everything it had to offer. As it was, we tasted our way through tako tamago (baby octopus stuffed with a quail egg), freshly made matcha mochi, okonomiyaki, a variety of battered and fried vegetables, and an incredible glass of unpasteurized sake, called namasake. The brilliant gold facade of Kinkakuji Temple was worth the 45 minute walk to get there, despite the swarms of other people who were walking by with us. And in the late afternoon one day, we snuck into Nijo Castle just minutes before closing time, and by walking just a little bit slower than the group in front of us, we found ourselves walking down the airy wooden halls alone, listening to the chirping of the nightingale floors under our feet and imagining what it would have been like to sit in the center of the painted rooms.

One morning, perhaps my favorite morning of the trip, we spent wandering through Arashiyama. The bamboo forest was the initial draw, but ultimately I found it underwhelming. Yes, the bamboo groves are as lovely as the photos look, but they don’t have the immensity or the depth I was expecting – after a few short minutes, we had walked through all of them. But the rest of the Arashiyama area was so worth the visit. There’s a beautiful, wide, pale-green river, dozens of restaurants in traditional wooden buildings with views of the river, a few bustling streets lined with shops, and a perfectly hipster coffee place that fully satisfied my desire to do the “Japanese coffeeshop thing” that Instagram so dearly loves. The weather was fickle and frosty, with brief and furious snow flurries followed by gentle sunshine all morning. We climbed to the top of one of the hills to see the monkeys, and loved it so much we spent an hour watching them play, looking out over the city, and feeding them bananas. When we were thoroughly chilled, we ducked inside a casual restaurant for steaming bowls of katsu donburi, just as the snow picked up outside. It was the sort of day that leaves a lasting impression, where you know just how lovely the memory will be before the day is even over.

Choosing restaurants in Kyoto was one of the more daunting things we experienced. We were staying in a quiet neighborhood a little outside of the main tourist areas (in a little boutique hotel called Villa Aneyakoji, which I recommend without any reservation whatsoever – it was perfect), and we walked by tons of lovely, intimate-looking restaurants, emanating a warm yellow glow from inside traditional wooden buildings. But all the signs and menus were only in Japanese, and with very limited ability to communicate, or even read the prices, we weren’t comfortable enough to go in, although we desperately wanted to. So we primarily ended up at the places with loud English menus – the sort of restaurant I typically try to avoid when traveling (with the notable exception of the meal we had at Tiger Gyoza Hall, which was excellent and felt like a lucky find). One night, after an acceptable but not extraordinary dinner at a conveyor-belt sushi place (worth going once just for the experience), we were wandering home rather late, hoping that the matcha cream puff place we had wandered by in the mall would still be open. Everything in the mall was decidedly closed, but we kept wandering and found ourselves outside of the Lipton Tea House, with pristine pastries beckoning from the window. After a little gesturing to the proprietress, we walked out with a box containing one enormous cream puff and one thick slice of matcha and chocolate cake, to be enjoyed 20 minutes later in our yakutas from the comfort of our room. (An illustration of Japanese hospitality: we asked for a fork at reception when we walked into our hotel, and 3 minutes later someone knocked on our door carrying a tray with plates, hot towels, and tiny gold forks for our dessert. This is now what I expect when I ask for a fork anywhere in the world).

I devoured that cream puff – it was light and rich and flavorful and perfect – and somehow it became my primary food memory from Kyoto, despite not being particularly Japanese. So I’ve made cream puffs for you here – big ones, with perfectly puffed and eggy shells and a matcha-infused cream. I went light on the matcha, because it’s a strongly savory flavor (and because it costs an arm and a leg here), but if you know you love the flavor of matcha feel free to increase it. And although I didn’t end up using these component recipes, Zen Can Cook deserves a shoutout here, if only for the inspiration his beautiful photos provided.

More from Japan:
Japan Travelogue Part Two: Ise Peninsula; Ginger Chicken Miso Ramen

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Matcha Cream Puffs

Pate a choux recipe adapted from Food Network. Makes about 20 large cream puffs.

For the pastry cream:

• 1/2 c. sugar
• 4 TBS cornstarch
• 2 whole eggs
• 1 egg yolk
• 2 c. whole milk
• pinch of salt
• 1 TBS matcha tea powder
• 3 TBS butter, cut into thin slices
• 1 c. heavy cream

For the puffs:

• 1 c. water
• 1 stick salted butter
• pinch salt
• 1 1/2 tsp sugar
• 1 c. flour
• 4 whole eggs

1. To make the pastry cream, whisk together the sugar and cornstarch in a large, heatproof bowl until evenly combined. Add the eggs and egg yolk to the sugar and whisk until the mixture is thick and pale yellow. Set aside.
2. In a medium saucepan, combine the milk and the salt and heat over medium temperature. Bring just to a simmer (milk should be steaming and starting to bubble around the edges but not boiling) then remove from the heat. Sift the matcha powder into the milk through a fine-mesh sieve, whisking to combine. Slowly pour the hot milk into the egg mixture, whisking the eggs vigorously as you do so, to temper the eggs. Transfer the custard back to the saucepan and return to medium-low heat, whisking the custard the whole time to prevent lumps and scrambling the eggs. Cook the custard, still whisking, until it has thickened, about 3-4 minutes, then pour into a clean bowl. Stir in the butter piece by piece, waiting until each piece has melted before adding the next. Let custard cool slightly, then cover with plastic wrap, pressing plastic wrap against surface of the custard, and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled.
3. To make the cream puffs, preheat the oven to 425°F. Combine the water, butter, salt, and sugar in a medium saucepan. Bring just to a boil, then remove from the heat and add the flour all at once, stirring vigorously to incorporate. Stir until the flour is fully incorporated, then return the pot to the heat and cook for 60-90 seconds, beating hard the whole time, until the water has evaporated from the dough to the point that the dough leaves a thin film on the bottom of the pot. Remove from the heat and transfer the dough to a bowl.
4. Beat the eggs into the dough one at a time, thoroughly mixing between additions. When you have added the last egg, the dough should be smooth and shiny, and drip slowly from the spoon when lifted out of the bowl. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Use a tablespoon to scoop rounds of dough onto the parchment paper, leaving at least 2 inches between them. Use your finger to flatten any points as they will burn. Alternatively, you can spoon the dough into a pastry bag fitted with a large tip and pipe rounds onto the baking trays, but I found this more difficult than simply scooping them. Bake the cream puffs for 15 minutes at 425°F, then reduce the heat to 375°F and bake for another 20 minutes, until puffed up and lightly browned all over. Remove from the oven and let cool on a cooling rack.
5. To assemble and serve the cream puffs, beat the heavy cream until soft peaks form. Add 1/3 of the whipped cream to the pastry cream and use a spatula to gently fold into the cream until mixture is even. Repeat twice more with the remaining whipped cream – the resulting whipped pastry cream should be light and airy but still hold it’s shape. Cut the puffs apart horizontally with a serrated knife and place a large spoonful of the cream on top of the bottom half, then replace the top half of the puff on top of the pastry cream. Only fill as many cream puffs as you will be serving immediately.

The post Japan Part 1: Kyoto Travelogue // Matcha Cream Puffs appeared first on Katie at the Kitchen Door.

Update: Giveaway now closed! Congrats to Andrea on winning the book (sorry, Mom, maybe next time!). Thanks to everyone for entering and leaving your favorite dishes – I have so many great Japanese recipes to try now – sounds like katsu curry and okonimyaki are must tries.

I don’t cook a lot of Asian food.  Sure, your occasional super-Americanized stir-fried rice, or a little chicken cooked in soy sauce, but rarely anything traditional.  It’s out of my comfort zone.  I have a lot of friends who are enamored with various Asian cultures, or who are part of an Asian culture and still very much tied to their family’s traditions and roots, but I’ve always been more drawn to Western food cultures – Italian, French, Irish, Polish, Czech.  It’s more accessible to me – closer to home.

This is precisely why Nancy Hachisu’s beautiful new cookbook “Japanese Farm Food” was such a wonderfully eye-opening book for me.  Just the introduction is full of new information – the best type of miso to buy for everyday use, how to grind tofu, and what, exactly, a suribashi is (it’s basically a grooved mortar and pestle for grinding seeds and nuts, if you’re wondering).  In fact, there were so many new words and ingredients and techniques in the opening chapter that I was almost a little intimidated.

I shouldn’t have worried – simplicity turned out not to be a problem.  Many of the recipes are simple, some shockingly so – like “edamame and sea salt,” or “raw egg on hot rice,” both of which are exactly what they sound like.  This level of simplicity is typically not my cup of tea in cookbooks – as someone who spends a lot of time cooking and thinking about cooking, I don’t need a book to instruct me in truly simple preparations.  However, in this book it seems appropriate.  Japanese food is simple by nature, and it is in preparing the simplest meals that technique truly counts.  There are also plenty of recipes a bit more complicated, like Chicken and Miso Meatballs or Egg Custard Squares with Crab and Spinach.  Some ingredients, such as yuzu, miso, and fresh wasabi, may be hard to find, but once you’ve sourced them, they’re used over and over again.

For anyone who grows their own vegetables or frequently finds themselves with an abundance of produce, you will find many new ways to prepare them in this book – a major plus.  Between Fried Eggplant Halves with Sweet Miso, Smashed Cucumber Pickles with Garlic, and Zucchini Coins with Roasted Sesame, I’ve taken plenty of notes on what to do with next year’s end-of-summer produce.  I should also note that the recipes in this book are intrinsically healthy, as much of traditional Japanese cuisine is.  Very few recipes call for dairy or wheat, the majority are vegetable based, and the techniques are such that the ingredients maintain most of their nutritious qualities.  If you’re looking to change your diet and lifestyle (and you like Japanese food, of course), this book may be a great source of inspiration.

But this book is not just about the food.  A big part of its charm are the short vignettes, little glimpses into Nancy and Tadaaki’s life in their Japanese farmhouse.  At first it seemed strange to me that the stories were somewhat disconnected, and not a continuous tale of Nancy’s integration into Japanese life, but I think they ended up being my favorite part.  The wannabe farmer buried inside me loved imagining the first taste of a fresh pecan grown from seed 20 years earlier, or of midsummer edamame just pulled from the bush, served hot and salty with a cold beer, the way Americans might enjoy corn on the cob.  I think any armchair traveler with the slightest interest in Japan will revel in this book.

This is a book that was very clearly assembled with a lot of thought and love.  It is not haphazardly thrown together, nor is it repeating material and recipes that those of us who consume food literature at a rapid pace have seen a hundred times.  But before I can truly condone any cookbook, I have to test out a few recipes to see if they’re worthwhile.  In this case, I started with the homemade ramen.  Ramen is a food so steeped in mystique and tradition, I was curious to see how it would turn out at home.  The answer?  Worth every minute of the 3-hour preparation.  The long-simmered chicken broth is clear and nourishing, the home rolled noodles puffy and tender, the half-boiled egg creamy and full of the broth’s flavor.  It is exactly what I want to be slurping on any cold and dreary afternoon. It definitely takes some planning ahead, and the noodles were a little bit tricky to work with, but I would absolutely make it again on a lazy Saturday.  I still have a few more recipes to test, but so far, this book passes the recipe test.

The bottom line: Japanese Farm Food is a ground-up introduction to traditional Japanese food, packed with simple, technique-focused recipes.  Nancy’s voice is strong and her stories intimate – resulting in a beautiful book that is clearly a labor of love.  I’d strongly recommend it to anyone looking to expand their repertoire of healthful (or vegetarian) recipes, learn new methods for cooking fresh produce, or to anyone with any interest in the culture and food of Japan.

Giveaway:  Thanks to the folks over at Andrews McMeel Publishing, I’m giving away one copy of Japanese Farm Food.  To enter, leave a comment below, answering the question: What is your favorite Japanese (or generally Asian, if you’ve never had Japanese food) dish?  Have you ever made Japanese food at home?  (P.s. I loved hearing your answers about your favorite winter dish – seems a lot of you love beef stew and chicken pot pie!)  For one additional entry, you can subscribe to Katie at the Kitchen Door via email or RSS, and leave a separate comment letting me know you have (you can also do this if you’re already a subscriber).  One winner will be picked at random at midnight on Friday, November 2nd.  Be sure to include your email in the comment form so I can get in touch with you!  If the winner doesn’t respond to me within 48 hours, they forfeit their winnings and I will pick a second winner.  US only, apologies to my international readers! Giveaway now closed!

Disclaimer: I was sent a free review copy of Japanese Farm Food by the publisher, Andrews McMeel, but all thoughts and opinions shared here are honest and my own.

Ramen at Home

Recipe from Japanese Farm Food, by Nancy Hachisu.  Serves 4.

For the broth:

• 2 carrots, cut into 1 inch lengths
• 2 small Japanese leeks, or 4 scallions, trimmed and cut into 1 inch lengths
• 1 inch fresh ginger, peeled and thinly sliced
• 4 bone-in chicken thighs (or 8 wings)
• 1 tsp sea salt
• 2 TBS rapeseed or sesame oil

For the noodles:

• 2 TBS sesame oil
• 2 c. flour
• 2 eggs, at room temperature
• 2 egg yolks, at room temperature

For the toppings:

• 4 eggs
• 1 small bunch chopped bitter greens, such as bok choy or kale
• 3 TBS finely chopped Japanese leeks or scallions
• 1 sheet nori, cut into eights
• Soy sauce, miso, or sea salt (to taste)

1. Make the broth.  Preheat the oven to 450°F.  Place carrots, leeks/scallions, ginger, and chicken thighs in a roasting pan, and toss with salt and oil.  Roast for 40 minutes.  Pour chicken, veggies, and all the juices into a large stockpot, and cover with 16 cups of cold water.  Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer, covered, for 1 hour.  After 1 hour, remove the lid.  Take out 2 of the chicken thighs and place in a small bowl.  Cover the thighs with hot broth and let cool to room temperature, then shred.  Continue simmering the remaining broth for another 30-60 minutes, until it is reduced to about 8 cups.  Strain broth into a clean pot and keep warm over low heat.  Discard vegetables and remaining chicken thighs.
2. Make the noodles: mix 2 TBS of the sesame oil into the flour with your fingers until it is crumbly.  Add eggs and egg yolks and stir with your hand until incorporated, then knead on a flat, clean surface for 5 minutes until the dough is pliable but stiff.  The dough takes some force to really work it into a pliable piece.  Let dough rest 10 minutes.
3. Roll out the noodle dough to a thickness of about 1/8 inch using a pasta machine or a heavy rolling pin.  Cut into noodles by hand or using pasta machine.  Nancy recommends skinny linguine-shaped noodles, but we made thick ones because the dough wasn’t workable enough to make the smaller noodles – the thick ones worked great for us!
4. Prepare the toppings: bring a large pot of water to a boil over high-heat.  Add the eggs and boil for exactly 7 minutes, then remove with a strainer and place directly into a bowl of ice-cold water.  Let cool, then peel.  In the boiling water, blanch the bitter greens until just tender, then add to the cold water with the eggs.  Keep the water boiling – you will use it to cook your noodles just before serving.
5. Once the broth, noodles, and toppings are ready, prepare the bowls: add a small amount of miso, soy sauce, or salt to each bowl (according to diner’s preference) and pour a ladelful of hot broth over the seasoning.  Stir the broth into the seasoning.  Divide the shredded chicken amongst the bowls.  Drop the noodles into the boiling water and cook for 2 minutes – they will float up to the top when they are done.  Remove the noodles with a strainer and divide among the bowls.  Top off each bowl with a few more ladlefuls of hot broth, 1 egg cut into halves, a handful of the cooked grens, some of the nori pieces, and a sprinkling of scallions.  Serve very hot, with extra seasoning as desired.

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