Soba - tears and chuckles for long happy life

One morning in Santa Rosa California, I saw a man walking carrying his dry cleaning clothes being placed on a hanger.  I started crying watching him walking down the beautiful tree-lined street nonchalantly and lightly.  I was deeply moved by the ordinary scene, a man doing one of his regular routines.  

One afternoon near Bodega Bay California, I stepped out my house to take my dogs for a walk. I stopped under a big tree at my front yard because felt gentle ocean breeze from the Bay, and then, I looked up a bright sun rays shining through the branches of the tree.  I felt tears running down my cheeks.  At that moment, I heard a jazz piano in my heart  ~The Koln Concert~  played by Keith Jarret. I was deeply moved by the ordinary nature, the gentle ocean breeze and a bright sun rays.

One evening in Austin Texas, I was driving to my work against after work traffic due to my graveyard shift. I was looking up the heavy clouds in the overcast sky, and all of a sudden, I realized that working for graveyard shift, having gloomy weather and not having anybody (except for my dog) to wait for me when I come home after work can be raw materials to produce a deep joy. 

I did not cry this time, but instead, chuckled.  

Strangely, it took relatively depressing scenes instead of the ordinary beautiful scenes to make me chuckle.

One night in Austin Texas, I finally gathered the courage to cook for beautifully corrupted people who try to construct their lives due to heavy body and mind abuse.  I realized that I have to keep on living my life for them to help them realize that they have not lost anything important in life yet because their pure hearts trying to become happy have not been destroyed yet. 

I was able to gather this courage after all those tears and chuckles.

Now, sitting at my desk recollecting all those sorrows and joys, I have never imagined that I would be so busy cooking Soba (buckwheat noodle) for my friends and family and chuckling and having tears of laughter this year, 2012.

Now, it is that time of year that I have to prepare Soba (buckwheat noodle), a bowl of hot noodle soup.  In Japan, we traditionally eat Soba on New Years Eve while waiting to greet the new year and end the old year because the long noodle symbolize the longevity, the long happy life...

Soba

Ingredients ・4 servings:

• 4 bundles of dried Soba noodle (buckwheat noodle)
• green onions (chopped)
• 6 cups Dashi soup stock (dissolve 2 teaspoon gragules or 1 stick)
• 1/2 cup Mirin
• 1/2 cup soy sauce
• 1 ~2 teaspoon sugar (optional)

Cooking:

<Noodle>

• Cook Soba noodles until al dente
• Drain when done

<Broth>

• Boil Mirin and add sugar (optional) in medium heat
• add water , Dashi soup stock and soy sauce
• Bring to a boil
• Serve soba noodle in a bowl and add soup
• Sprinkle green onions

~Serve immediately and eat while hot~

Turkish Coffee - Ingredients for happiness at my memories' cliff

Sometimes, memories can illuminate the best flavor 

that we can never re-create no matter how much we try.

One of those was my mother's pound cake tasted by my sister at a Christmas Eve in 1960's. My sister tried to re-create the same flavor after she grew up and married with three children. She tried it with all those rich and gourmet ingredients that she could buy in 1990's but always failed.

It was because the taste she remembered was consisted of her mother's big proud smile when she opened the rectangular box in front of her family after the dinner (I was a baby so don't remember it), a vivid contrast between my sister's feelings of being betrayed by her mother not providing a typical Christmas cake which should be decorated by Santa Clause & reindeer in a square box and completely unexpected flavor coming from a bumpy British style pound cake with lots of dried fruits and nuts which looked like a confectionery box distributed at a funeral, and a simplicity of those days with much less technologies than nowadays which enhance people's five sense sharper. 

She ate the whole cake even the last crumbs.

Those three ingredients - my mother's big smile, vivid contrast, a simplicity of the time- were short in my sister's recipe.

Japanese traditional European influenced Christmas cake made by rich butter cream

Amazing simple bumpy pound cake with lots of nuts and dried fruits

Another one was a canned coffee that I drank while reading Japanese comic books at a bookstore on my way home after a summer short course to prepare for college entrance exams in a small city, Aomori in Japan.  (a summer of 1979?)  It only cost 80 cents from a vendor machine but tasted much better in my memory than a Turkish coffee with jaggery sugar and cardamon spice that I learned to make 25 years later.

It was because I was reading a funny comic book holding back my laughter in a quiet bookstore, and enjoying every sip of the coffee which was filled with lots of milk and sugar.  My body knew that all those unhealthy ingredients in the coffee would be evaporated into me holding laughter and energy.

I learned that the happiness consists of very simple ingredients - good memories and simple food.

In time, I grew to be a catcher in my memories visualizing a scene of my favorite novel "A catcher in rye".

...standing on the edge of my memories' cliff trying to catch good moments and feelings when those are going over the memories' cliff.....

I know those memories are eternally engraved in my unconscious level but I have to pull those to my conscious level so that those can save my life at a crucial time when I feel like I want to give up everything and fade away from a reality.

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Due to those simple ingredients I held in my conscious level, I was able to enjoy every moments with my 89 years old mother in law when I went to see her for a Christmas dinner at a nursing home in Kansas, Missouri.  

I was even able to laugh out at a Christmas dinner table when I found out a professional caretaker of my mother in law had been believing all these years that I was a truck driver and romantically involved with many men at one time (maybe boyfriends at every cities?).  

This time, I did not hold back my laughter but laughed out, and said to her, 

" Oh really?  Do I look like a truck driver and being involved with multiple men romantically at one time?

It is impossible since I am still in love with her son who passed away four years ago and it may last another 500 years."

Turkish Coffee with cardamon

Ingredients:

• Extremely fine grind coffee beans such as Espresso, French Roast or Columbia
• 1/2 or less teaspoon ground cardamon
• Sugar (optional)

Making:

• Add water and coffee beans into a sauce pan
• Add cardamon and sugar
• Once all the ingredients are completely dissolved, brew over a medium heat
• First boil - as soon as it starts to boil, remove the sauce pan from the heat and let the froth down.
• Repeat this two more times since the three boils create a better taste

Natto - eternally grateful for my heritage

One of the happiest memories in my life was to swim with my dog, T-Bone when I was unemployed and desperately looking for a job.  It was a summer of 2009.

Never imagined that that summer would be such unforgettable and beautiful days, especially when I had been experiencing rejections one after another by the companies I applied for.

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T-Bone would always make a big splash into the lake in front of my face, which make me see nothing but water splash and everything in sight become a blur on a horizon.

Then, he calms down.  We finally swim side by side reasonably and peacefully.

Lying on my back and floating like a paper doll on the water, I gaze into the faraway sky and wonder if I ever saw a blue sky whose edge was decorated with branches of trees.  

As I enjoy watching those branches moving slowly away in my sight, I gradually visualizing my sepia-tone pictures in my life that I cherish eternally.

***Soul mate,  my mother, my father, my dogs/Chako & Muddy,

Northeastern part of Japan - a huge elementary school yard with many trees where I swung on vines like Tarzan, - thousands of white swans in front of my house which migrated from Siberia ***

This is the moment that I can convince that there will never be an end but continuation.
This is the moment that I feel so powerful because I stop defining myself by neither the job I hold nor the title of organization nor any other secular achievements, but by the sepia-tone pictures that I cherish in my life.

I transformed that summer which could be my most desperate and miserable time to the happiest moments of my life.

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A nine-year-old bobbed hair girl would rush home after playing so hard in a school yard Jungle because the beautiful sunset illumination on the trees telling her the time for dinner, telling her go home.

It was a summer of 1971 when the first MacDonald opened in Japan and people in Japan started eating American fast food, but I was so lucky that I had no choice but to eat my mother's home made meal every day because it would build my strong body that can tolerate a 110-pound-black massive lab as a play mate in a summer of 2009 when the global economic decline even started affecting me.

I would rush home with wet black monster after swimming so hard and run to the kitchen start warming brown rice, cutting Japanese pickles (tsukemono), warming miso-soup and preparing my most favorite dish called Natto, which I convince, is the most miraculous food on the planet and makes me a healthiest, happiest and, moreover, a person who can eternally grateful for my heritage.

How to eat Natto:

1. Stir the natto with chopsticks. Do not mash. Stir fast and well about 10 to 15 times until it becomes sticky.
2. Pour the seasoning that comes with Natto.
3. Add your favorite vegetables or condiments such as chopped green onions, sesame seeds, eggs, mustard, wasabi, etc.