Nabeyaku Udon, a traditional Japanese soup and one of the most comforting foods imaginable. The Nabeyaku Udon is a classic one pot meal served in a traditional Nabe, a pot made out of clay or in this case cast iron. Udon noodles are thick wheat flour noodles that are quite long and have a nice slippery texture, only slightly resisting the tooth.
The rich flavor of the broth or dashi was the first food to be given the term Umami “the fifth flavor” which loosely translates to tasty. It is the word given to foods that are indescribably delicious. This broth was in the eastern Japanese style with dark soy sauce, kombu- a type of kelp, and katsuobushi- dried, fermented and smoked skipjack tuna, also known as bonito.
The aroma is of the earth and the sea, I don’t know if I want to run or swim…so I grab my chopsticks and go fishing. Deep in the bowl I find hidden treasures everywhere, moving aside green leaves of cabbage I find a shitake mushroom hiding inconspicuously, trying not to be noticed. I eat the gently poached egg only just cooked in the hot broth, floating on top the soup like a lone raft in a sea of noodles and find concealed a small school of tofu squares. Having way to much fun finding entombed food; I eat the delicately crisp tempura prawn, and try the amazingly textural kamaboko or fish cake, slightly rubbery in a good way, yet still soft with only a slight hint of its fishy past. I eat the lonely single scallion, slurp up some of the gratifying noodles and I find some more elusive morsels hiding in the dark broth, some tender little bites of chicken. Chicken and noodles…I have found a chicken noodle soup for the epicure…and its way too fun to eat.
Here’s to your health.
Banzai!
A while ago, I spent some time in South East Asia, just seeing where things took me. I ended up on one of the southern Thai islands, found a hut on the beach, right next to the ocean, and stayed there for three weeks.
ReplyDeleteDuring this time, I ate at most of the local restaurants. One in particular was a little more, well, dirty than the rest, and the inevitable happened.
After a shocking night, I emerged from my hut, looking helpless and European like only a Yorkshireman in the sun can.
The owner of the hotel saw me, and being a woman of many years experience in these matters, deduced immediately what my problem was.
She disappeared into her kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a bowl of the Thai equivalent of the dish above.
"Eat", came the barked order, "make well".
So I ate the steaming bowl of thick noodles and chicken broth, the steamed vegetables and the slivers of chicken. It calmed my stomach, gave me strength and soothed my soul, leaving me in no doubt about the restorative powers of a simple chicken noodle soup.
I wasn't charged for that bowl of soup, but it was priceless to me, and it remains one of the best meals I've ever had.
I'll never forget that small act of kindness.