epic fail

Once a month, there is an organized get-together for all of the Navy Chaplain Spouses on island. There are something like 30 of us who choose to be involved, although obviously not everyone attends every meeting. When I first arrived in Okinawa, I found these get-togethers to be intimidating and strange – everyone was SO Christian, there was never anything I could eat (it’s always potluck and people have a really hard time bringing food that doesn’t contain meat), and there was a lot of spontaneous praying. Almost two and a half years later, though, I find these meetings to be fun and funny and, if not uplifting, at least something to look forward to. Sometimes we have an agenda and sometimes the meetings are purely social, but there’s always dinner involved. People have even (mostly) learned to sometimes consider cooking something (besides dessert) that I can eat. And they’ve learned to close their prayers with “in your holy name we pray” instead of “in Jesus’ name we pray.” Progress!

Last night was our April meeting, and the potluck theme was alphabet soup. We didn’t actually eat soup – rather, we were supposed to make something that started with one of our initials. I wasn’t feeling particularly creative, and I was trying to avoid too many dirty dishes, so I decided to make a salad – an Israeli salad, to be more specific. I love to make Israeli salad; weirdly, I find all the chopping and dicing to be soothing. I cut up my cucumbers and tomatoes, threw in some corn and hearts of palm for good measure, seasoned with salt, pepper, lemon juice and a little olive oil, packed the whole thing in a big glass mixing bowl, and was good to go.

My good friend Diane – a fellow chaplain spouse – lives in the same tower as I do, so we always ride to meals together. Last night we met in the lobby, as usual, and headed out to her car. I was about to get in when disaster struck. I don’t know if pregnancy is making me more clumsy (they do say that happens, though I haven’t really noticed it anywhere else) or I was just having an off night, but something about the way the car door swung open knocked the salad bowl out of my hands and it promptly went flying, landing in the middle of the road where (of course) it shattered. Bowl and salad were both a complete loss. Once we stopped laughing, or at least once we were able to talk again (the laughter hadn’t completely stopped), Diane and I weren’t really sure what to do. We couldn’t just leave all that broken glass in the middle of the road with kids running around and cars driving. We decided to try and gather as much of the glass as we could, which led to an exciting 10 minutes of crouching on the ground, searching for shards. [We did leave the salad. I’m guessing a lucky dog or cat went at it because by the time we got back a few hours later it was completely gone.] I was pretty bummed about the salad. I had tried not to eat it while I was chopping since I knew it would likely be one of the only things I’d be eating for dinner. Talk about an epic fail.  At least I had a good story to tell when we finally arrived at our meeting, 20 minutes late and with only a plate of bread between us.  

a rant

I rarely use this space to rant, but today it just seems like the right choice.

Last night, Yoni and I attended a ball celebrating the 238^th birthday of the US Navy Chaplain Corps. For the most part, we had a lovely evening.

What was the problem, you ask? Food. Of course.

Yoni and I are well-practiced at fighting food battles here in Okinawa. Most of the time we don’t get worked up about it because we go in expecting problems. But last night we had RSVP’d as vegetarians, and so we weren’t wearing our protective armor.

It was a four-course meal. The first course was a salad next to shrimp. No thank you. The next course was a (delicious looking) pumpkin soup, made with beef broth. Thanks, but no thanks. The (vegetarian) entrée was some weird bastardization of eggplant parmesan. And then there was dessert. We were frustrated but not particularly surprised that there was no vegetarian option for the first two courses. After all – T.I.O. (this is Okinawa). We agreed that, after the ball, we would figure out who to talk to and address the issue appropriately.

But then the manager of the Officer’s Club (where the ball was being held) came by our table to ask if everything was ok. And…I might have gotten into it with her. It went something like this.

Manager: Hope you’re all enjoying your evenings. Is everything alright?

Leora: Actually, I’m pretty disappointed with the vegetarian offerings tonight.

Manager: How do you mean?

Leora: Well, we’re here for a four-course meal, but there was only a vegetarian alternative offered for one course.

Manager: Well, it was a pumpkin soup.

Leora: Yes, with a beef broth. That kind of goes against the meaning of the word vegetarian.

Manager: The truth is, we have too many special requests to be able to honor them.

Leora: Well, by offering a vegetarian option, you are pretending to honor them. It’s very misleading to arrive at a meal you expect to be able to partake in only to find out that you can’t eat most of it.

Manager: We’re just not able to accommodate everyone. Too many people want to be gluten free or whatever. Maybe next time, if you let us know in advance that you’re coming, we can work something out. It’s just that a lot of our flavorings have meat bases; we can’t be expected to serve people food without flavor.

Leora: (!!!) If I let you know in advance you’ll accommodate us?!? I’m pretty sure that, by registering as vegetarians, we did exactly that. That was your advance notice. Why else would we RSVP?

It went on and on. She refused to cede any ground even though she was being RIDICULOUS. Eventually, she offered to partially refund the tickets, but then she walked away and never came back. And even when she offered the refund, she was not apologetic, nor did she admit that what I was saying was valid in any way, shape or form. She was just trying to placate me. I’m pretty sure I was right, though. Grrr.

Ok. Rant over. Shabbat Shalom!

the indians in the lobby

First of all, let me start by apologizing for not posting last week. After two full years of writing this blog (our on-island anniversary is next week), it’s honestly hard for me to find things to write about, even on a bi-weekly basis. But I’m trying.

When we arrived two years ago on the Monday of Thanksgiving week, we (understandably) weren’t sure about our Thanksgiving plans. We’d just moved to a new country on the other side of the world where we didn’t know anyone. How were we supposed to make plans for a family-centric holiday? We ended up going to a buffet at one of the Officer’s Clubs, where there WAS an ice sculpture of a turkey, but there was NOT a lot of food for us to eat. By the time our second on-island Thanksgiving rolled around, we had a couple of friends, and were lucky enough to share a meal with them and their daughter. We’ll be with them (and a few others) again this year.

Here’s the thing about Thanksgiving, though. I know, as Jews, we often think of holidays as being all about the food, but Thanksgiving really amps that up to the next level. Normally that’s not a problem. Every family has their own traditional foods, and most peoples’ Thanksgiving dinners probably look similar from year to year. I know ours always did. When you’re celebrating in what is essentially a transient community, though, everyone is missing their families/friends/traditions back home, and so whatever plans they have made for themselves, they want their own personal traditions to be honored. And that’s not a problem either – it just means there is inevitably WAY too much food. Yoni and I are going to a meal where there will be 3-5 other adults, and there will be two turkeys. Not to mention a ridiculous list of other foods.

Food mania aside, spending Thanksgiving away from home is always bittersweet. But, seeing as the holiday is actually about giving thanks and not about food, I try to see the sweet instead of the bitter. I’m thankful this year to have friends to have Thanksgiving dinner with; I’m thankful that the temperature in Okinawa has finally dropped below 95 degrees; and I’m thankful for Yoni and Penny, who put a smile on my face and make it okay to call our apartment ‘home.’

adventures in Japanese cooking, part 2: Onigiri

In America, you don’t always have to think about your next meal. By that I mean that, if you want to hop in the car and take a day trip, or decide to spend the afternoon in a neighborhood with which you’re not familiar, it’s reasonable (especially in NY) to assume that you will be able to find something to eat at some point. If you are a strict adherent of kashrut, you might not be able to find a restaurant, but at least you will be able to find a selection of snack food in any convenience or grocery store. You will, at the very least, be able to find something to hold you over.

That’s not really the case here in Okinawa. Don’t get me wrong – convenience stores abound. It’s hard to drive five minutes without passing a Family Mart, a Lawson’s, or both. But finding something to eat at these stores – that’s an entirely different proposition. My Japanese is improving, but I’m still nowhere near able to read nutritional labels, and lard and/or shellfish are hiding everywhere here. As I’ve written about previously, I can’t even trust that American snack foods manufactured in Japan are safe to eat. Luckily, Yoni and I have managed to find one thing that’s often available in convenience stores, malls, airports, etc – Onigiri.

Onigiri are (or is – in Japanese there’s no distinction between singular and plural nouns) a form of Japanese fast food, essentially created to make rice portable. As you can see in the picture above, onigiri are often triangle-shaped, and are almost always stuffed with something. Traditional stuffings include pickled plums, kelp, salted salmon, fish roe, and miso paste. Non-traditional stuffings include tuna fish salad (like from a deli) and wakame seaweed mixed with wasabi-flavored mayo (really yummy). When there’s nothing else to eat in sight, Yoni and I are often able to find Onigiri to get us through.

Since, in addition to depending on them, I also really like to eat them, I thought I’d try my hand at making some at home. Here’s how you do it.

Cook some rice to the package specifications (I used brown, but white is more traditional).

I decided to make salmon Onigiri using canned salmon. (Next time, I will try to use fresh salmon.)

I also added this salmon rice mixture to the hot, cooked rice to add a little extra something. This mix, which someone who reads Kanji told me is free of non-Kosher products, has little pieces of dehydrated salmon and greens that come back to life when incorporated into the rice.

After all the ingredients were prepped, I used my best rice-ball-making instincts to figure out how to shape them. Basically, I put a big blob of rice onto my hand, stuffed some salmon in the center of the blob, and added more rice on top. I tried to seal all of the salmon inside, and shape the rice into a triangle.

My mother-in-law, Tova, had sent us some sheets of nori (seaweed used for wrapping), and so I decided to wrap half of the Onigiri since that’s usually how you would buy them.

All in all, it’s definitely easier to buy Onigiri than it was to make them. That being said, though, if I were planning a Japanese-style picnic or needed some road-trip food, I would definitely make Onigiri again. And as I’ve never seen them sold in the US,  I’d better keep practicing, because I won’t want to give them up when Yoni and I eventually come home!

adventures in Japanese cooking

During our recent trip to Tokyo, Shula and I were lucky enough to stay with Rabbi Antonio DiGesu, the rabbi of the Jewish Community of Japan. A former student of my father’s, Antonio was pre-disposed to be a dutiful host, but he was so much more – gracious and welcoming and fun! He also made delicious, Japanese-style food.

Antonio has been in Japan since 2009, and does not have the luxury of living on a military base when it comes to easy access to American foods and ingredients. He has, however, applied a significant amount of time to becoming proficient in reading and speaking Japanese, and he uses those language skills to shop worry-free in Japanese supermarkets.

After Shabbat ended on Saturday night, Antonio took Shula and me on a “here’s what’s safe to eat at the supermarket” tour that was incredibly instructive. Some things were obvious: vegetables are vegetables (even if they’re different types than you’re used to, they’re safe to eat) and pork is still pork. But some foods that you would assume would be safe from a kashrut perspective are not. For instance, apparently all yogurt products in Japan contain gelatin. And almost any American snack food purchased in a Japanese supermarket (think Pringles, Ritz Crackers, etc) contains shrimp paste or something of the sort. It’s crazy and unfair all at the same time.

When it came to Japanese cooking ingredients (sauces, mixes, etc), I mostly resorted to taking pictures of the products Antonio declared safe, and hoping the same brands would be sold in our local supermarkets back on Okinawa. While having access to an American supermarket is a huge lifesaver, Yoni and I both really like Japanese food, and as long as we are here and have easy access to ingredients, I can’t find any reasons not to do a little experimenting. Also, Antonio had made a delicious tofu/vegetable soup that I found totally inspiring, and wanted to re-create at home.

When I got back to Okinawa, not all the products Antonio had pointed out were available, but some of them (including fabulous sweet and salty rice cakes) were. With a little extra help and the magic of the iPhone (one day I’ll write a blog about how magical my iPhone feels here), I was able to put together a Japanese soup that was similar in taste to the one Antonio served us.

What was in it, you ask?

The base was made of だし (dashi), a fish-stock that’s ubiquitous in Japanese cooking. There are many ways to make dashi, but I made it using what were basically tea bags.

I brought a big pot of water to boil, and then added the “tea bags” (one for every 3 cups or so), and allowed the boiling water to steep for 3-4 minutes. That’s it! Into the dashi went a seriously random assortment of vegetables (carrots, sweet potatoes, squash, dried shiitake mushrooms, lotus root, really anything I could get my hands on), a bunch of dried kelp (for flavor, apparently), and some big chunks of tofu. Per Antonio’s instructions, I let the whole thing simmer for about an hour, and then took it off the heat and stirred in some miso paste.

To finish it off, I added a little bit of soy sauce, and removed the kelp. You can eat it, but it was in very big pieces and leaving it in the soup didn’t seem practical. And, by the way, the soup was delicious!

My next Japanese cooking project will, I think, be おにぎり (that would be Onigiri for all you non-Japanese readers out there). They look like this…

…and I love to eat them!

As to making them, though – I’m not sure. I’ll let you know how it goes. :)

The Margarita Tree

We bought a Margarita Tree.

Alternatively, we bought a Gin and Tonic Tree. I guess it just depends on the season and what other drinks are available. But I’m really excited to have a tree. She’s a lime tree, and I can’t wait to see her.

Okinawa has its own unique species of lime. Sometimes called the Taiwan tangerine, flat lemon, or the hirami lemon (thanks Wikipedia!), it looks like a lime, but it tastes like a lemon. I’m sure its juice is wonderful, but no good for mixed drinks. 

No, we were going to get a good old fashion lime tree. And when one is in Japan, where does one go to get a citrus tree? Make-Man!

Let me take a moment to explain Make-Man. It is your Japanese go-to store of all your making needs. Leora and I did some recon and tried to take in the entire store. The best way to describe it is Japan’s version of Home Depot, but it’s so much more. There’s lumber and power tools, blow torches and build-it-yourself bookshelves. But on the other side of the building is pet goods and appliances, 100 yen store, portable burners, towels and actual pets. Pretty much, Make-Man is everything you could ever need and more.

The smell of lumber and orchids greets you at the door. Sure it’s nice for the first minute, but it only gets stronger. As it attacks your olfactory senses, you ears are assaulted with cartoony Japanese music. Not the classical music, but the stuff that plays in the background of anime and helps lead to seizures in lab rats. Think about that, but with the chorus of the song put on repeat.

I make fun of it, but Make-Man is awesome. And they will help you make anything, including a porch garden. And they so want to be helpful. The employees went out of their way to try to help us. But, there is one problem. Not a lot of English speakers.

Fortunately for us, there was an employee who spoke English. Unfortunately, not in the garden department, and he knew nothing about gardens. So they found somebody in gardens who could understand what we were looking for – a translator for our translator, if you will. Most people would say it reminded them of being at the UN. Leora and me? It reminded us of an episode in the first season of West Wing. But that’s a different story for a different time.

 

We left the store with Japanese basil, thyme, rosemary, and dill. Pots and soil, an orange tree... and a lime tree. I hope we don't kill it.

Private note for Matan Skolnik:

If took you awhile to find me because I was hiding in the lime tree, it meant you weren’t looking that hard. It’s a pretty small tree.

Good Eats

What a huge week. 

This past week, we had a pre-Hanukah party in the Jewish Community. We got a relatively big crowd, and met some really great people. I’m not sure if we can repeat that kind of success any time soon, but I think there is what to build on.

I also started work for one of the local Combat Logistic Regiments. I’m a long-term sub while their official chaplain is out, but I’m pretty happy about it. I’ve only been there for two days and I’ve already had some really good counseling sessions.

But let’s talk about the most important thing that happened: A few nights ago, I ate chicken.

Keeping kosher in Japan is not exactly the easiest thing to do. Eating “not-treif” in Japan isn’t much easier. But we have an apartment, and we have an oven, and the commissary is stocking Empire Chicken Parts!

So it’s a little freezer-burned. When you live on the other side of the world from the closest Kosher butcher, you have to make a couple of compromises. But, a little paprika, maybe some seasoning salt, and maybe a little Old Bay Seasoning (yes, they sell that here), and voila – dinner is served…and it’s delicious.

When eating out in Japan, it is important to know that local restaurateurs want to make the most delicious food in the world. I am sure they can make a spicy tuna roll without putting in shrimp. But why would a person want that? Treif is (probably) delicious. 

There is a certain blank look that comes on the waiter’s face every time we try to explain that we want the salmon, but we don’t want the crab. I don’t have to understand Japanese to know what he/she is really saying: “Would you eat it on a boat? Would you eat it with a goat?” No, Sam-I-Am, that’s not how I roll and I’m not going to rhyme either.

While it’s tough, we have found that, with our policy of eating hot-dairy, we are able to eat out. There are some American-ish places. Supposedly there’s a Bollywood and Indian Food restaurant, and I heard there is a Buddha-Bodai-esque Buddhist Vegan Chinese place (but I don’t know where). But, we’re in Japan. We want Japanese food!

I have a favorite non-sushi restaurant, but I have absolutely no clue what it’s called. I like to refer to it as “the delicious restaurant halfway between Kinser and Foster next to MOS Burger…you know the one with the white sign and all the cars in the parking lot.” There’s another one between Camp Lester and Kadena AFB, but I haven’t been to that one yet. They make Udon (basically really thick-rice noodles), and they make it good. 

The number one reason that I like this place: its delicious. The second reason is that I can actually watch as they make the udon, and I know they don’t put anything in it! It comes with vegetable tempura and fruit/fish wrapped in seaweed and rice. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. While Japan isn’t known for making prices affordable, this place is pretty cheap. That also makes me happy.

So there is udon, but there’s also some pretty solid sushi. We went to a phenomenal sushi restaurant with a local couple (they are Americans, but they’ve lived here for nearly 50 years). It was good. I thought the sushi in NYC was comparable, so it wasn’t life-changing. However, it was very good and very authentic.

And then, there is the sushi-go-round. It’s exactly what it sounds like (as long as you were expecting me to say “sushi going around the restaurant on a conveyer belt”). It seems weird, and you start to wonder what happens to the stuff that keeps going around and around after an hour or two. But it’s hilarious, and not bad at all.

There is so much to talk about, and I could talk about the food here forever. 

Tomorrow, Leora and I are going down to one of the marinas to find some fresh caught fish for Shabbos. I’m pretty excited about it. I feel like “Joseph Who Loved the Shabbos” (if you haven’t read it, it’s a quick read and its life changing); I'm gonna buy a fish and its going to be huge (and it will fit in my kitchen). We’ll let you know next week if we are successful in our attempt to find fresh fish (it’s harder than you’d think!). Until then, eat some readily-available kosher food for us. We miss it.