Have you been following this from the earlier "mirror" posts? If not, this one won't make any sense. But if you have been following, here goes! This is how you get from A to B, from kagami mochi to delicious arare senbei. Arare, by the way, means snow flurries. Nothing says January like snow flurries.
1. The dried-up kagami mochi is brittle, so wrap it in a clean dish towel to keep the fragments from flying all over your house. When it shatters, you get fragments, just like when a glass mirror breaks.
2. Get a blunt instrument--a wooden meat tenderizing hammer, a rolling pin, a carpenter's mallet, whatever you have.
3. Put the towel-wrapped mochi on a flat, steady, surface--a sturdy kitchen table or the floor. Whack it with the blunt instrument until it shatters into teeny tiny pieces. (on the scale of frozen peas and carrots)
4. Collect the fragments. Shake them out of the towel and onto a baking sheet or a casserole pan that you've coated with a thin film of olive oil. Dust them with a hint of salt.
5. Bake for 5 minutes in a pre-heated 220 degrees C oven.
Presto change-o! You have transformed your kagami mochi into arare senbei! Now all you need is some green tea, a couple of mikans just for variety, and a friend to nibble them with.
2011年1月14日金曜日
Time to Break a Mirror (5)
So, how do you go from the one on the left to the one on the right? You can find out in the next post.
Time to Break a Mirror (4)
This is kagami mochi transformed into arare senbei. Arare senbei are very good to eat, the Japanese answer to popcorn.
Time to Break a Mirror (2)
When the kagami mochi goes on display, it is smooth and looks a little like bread dough before it rises. By January 11, it has lost its youthful freshness and developed serious cracks and crevices. This is good, because it makes the "mirror" so much easier to smash.
In my house, the mound of kagami mochi gets wrapped in a towel and smacked with a meat hammer.
Then what? You'll see in the next post.
In my house, the mound of kagami mochi gets wrapped in a towel and smacked with a meat hammer.
Then what? You'll see in the next post.
Time to Break a Mirror
One of the traditional New Year items on display somewhere in the house until January 11 is called kagami mochi. Mochi is boiled rice that has been pounded into something resembling Playdoh, and kagami means mirror. Disks of kagami mochi are piled onto each other in descending order of diameter and festooned with various edible seaweeds to make the display.
Trust me, it does look nice topped off with a tiny, orange mikan.
Unlike holiday decorations in other countries, there is a specific date to remove the kagami mochi display, and that day is January 11. Then what happens? You'll see in the next post.
Trust me, it does look nice topped off with a tiny, orange mikan.
Unlike holiday decorations in other countries, there is a specific date to remove the kagami mochi display, and that day is January 11. Then what happens? You'll see in the next post.
2008年12月24日水曜日
Christmas vs New Year's (2)
Did I say daunting? Yes, I did, in reference to food. But even more daunting was the prospect of cards. The good thing was that New Year greeting cards are postcards. Simple. Basically yours for the price of the stamp.
The bad thing was that they are postcards. Blank. No design. No pre-printed message.
The wise people started writing theirs early, like in July.
The clever people came up with unique designs, often based on the upcoming year's totem animal. For instance, 2009 will be the Year of the Cow. They also balanced the formulaic greetings with interesting personal observations.
The talented people wrote theirs in hand-calligraphed sumi ink, or perhaps they carved fascinating/beautiful/humorous wooden blocks from which to print them.
My husband and I were none of the above, yet we were blessed with many friends that we wanted to greet.
Daunting, daunting, daunting.
The bad thing was that they are postcards. Blank. No design. No pre-printed message.
The wise people started writing theirs early, like in July.
The clever people came up with unique designs, often based on the upcoming year's totem animal. For instance, 2009 will be the Year of the Cow. They also balanced the formulaic greetings with interesting personal observations.
The talented people wrote theirs in hand-calligraphed sumi ink, or perhaps they carved fascinating/beautiful/humorous wooden blocks from which to print them.
My husband and I were none of the above, yet we were blessed with many friends that we wanted to greet.
Daunting, daunting, daunting.
Christmas vs New Year's
The quintessential year-end Japanese holiday is not Christmas but New Year's, and it tends to be solemn and quiet rather than joyous. I used to fear it, but now I've learned to embrace it. Perhaps because it's a lot easier to manage than it used to be.
The hardest thing about then vs now is that then, everything closed down for almost a week. Everything. From food stores to hospitals.
Imagine a whole week without stores. Sounds awful? Sounds good?
Preparing enough food for a whole week, with only the refrigeration of an unheated kitchen was daunting. But it was also do-able. And the result was a whole week without ever once running to a store.
The hardest thing about then vs now is that then, everything closed down for almost a week. Everything. From food stores to hospitals.
Imagine a whole week without stores. Sounds awful? Sounds good?
Preparing enough food for a whole week, with only the refrigeration of an unheated kitchen was daunting. But it was also do-able. And the result was a whole week without ever once running to a store.
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