Prior to arriving in Japan, I was 25-years-old, living in my parent's basement watching Star Trek and reading porn with one hand. Although I had spent five years in university (York) doing Political Science, and a couple more at Humber College studying journalism (yes, I graduated both), I had never left home before.
While not exactly a momma's boy, this former king-of-the-nerds managed to reinvent himself into court-jester-of-the-normals. Whatever that means.
Back in Toronto, my parents, Ron & Lynda (who were born in India), used to cook for my brother Ben and I. One meal for us, and one meal for them - on many, many occasions.
Us two kids were spoiled and had no interest in eating 'foreign' food. We were brown guys living in Canada and wanted to be as Canadian as possible in order to fit in. Believe it or not, but racism was rampant in Canada during the 70s and 80s (and I'm guess, before that, and after that).
I'm just saying that I was no great connoisseur. I used to eat pork shops (not a typo), steak and chicken, with potatoes and if I had to, something called a vegetable.
In Japan... it was adapt or die.
And, let me tell ya.... those first three weeks in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.... I didn't eat that much, except when we had office lunches (every weekday) or there was an enkai (party) or festival. Combine the lack of eat with the heat, and I dropped about six-plus kilograms. Not that anyone noticed.
My parents had warned me before departing to have an open mind. So I did. And I do. I made it my goal to eat everything placed in front of me, and to stick with the things I liked the best. Okay, that last part came out wrong... but the first part is the part we should all remember. Go to Japan with an open mind and an open mouth.
A co-worker of mine recently went to Japan on business (I don't get to go anywhere!). She hated the food... but then again, she's so skinny that I think she hates all food.
Now, I've already talked a bit about Natto, and other somewhat strange Japanese foods, so today, let's talk about a veggie called a daikon, a white radish.
The radishes I know about are these cherry-sized and shaped, purple coloured sharp-tasting things that I have no idea what the heck to do with. The Japanese daikon looks vastly different. It looks, well, it looks sortta like a sex toy that I may have heard the big kids talking about under the bleachers the other day. No wait, scratch that... they are cylindrical (like a rocket), white, generally smooth-skinned (similar to a carrot), and have a tuft on top like a carrot. As well, like a carrot, they grow pointy end down in the ground.
Generally speaking, the daikon has a diameter of about eight centimetres and a length of 40 centimetres. And after I've just spent this length of time to describe it all to you, I suddenly recall that there is also a round variety - see photo above.
Now... unlike a carrot, I've only seen daikon used in a grated form called daikon oroshi, and is often found served with fish--always with one called a Pacific Saury.
Though having a sharp, almost bitter taste (unlike a carrot, but more like a radish), the daikon is served to help cleanse the palette, as well as for its digestive properties, as enzymes contained therein can help break through any greasy meal.
From what I've observed, daikon is used as a condiment (like ketchup and mustard) and is put into tempura dipping sauces. When I made tempura that one time in Japan, I did not use grated daikon, and after the fireman came to put out the blaze engulfing my apartment, it was obvious to me that I should have used some.
I'm not a tremendous fan of daikon--I mean, I'll eat it, and it is tasty, but I guess since I really didn't know how to prepare it, I was always leery of using it in my chili con carne a la Andrew or my spaghetti sauces, or in my heat-and-serve meals from Ai-Ai-Town or Iseya. Hmm... in hindsight, it was probably a food thing that I never used it when cooking.
Somewhere wondering how I'm supposed to fit this stupid tuber in my tiny fridge,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by Ian Dury & The Blockheads, Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick. Listen to the second line of the song and know that I chose this song because a daikon is one rhythm stick is one you don't want to get hit with.
PS: Here's something interesting - a Japanese anime (animation) show called Nerima Daikon Brothers.
PPS: In the photo up above, you can see a young Japanese boy (circa 1930 - and from my personal collection) holding a daikon radish that's far larger than what I have described because it was grown in the rich soil of the ever-exploding Mount Sakurajima volcano in Kagoshima.
PPPS: In the photo below, you can see my tiny fridge in my large apartment in Ohtawara-shi. The swivel chair is sort of blocking it, and it has a convection microwave oven atop it.
