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by Chef Boy Ari
A s a food writer of the Northern Rockies who specializes
in the preparation of local and seasonal food, I must
come to terms with the fact that I will never write a
story about sushi. Most of the hick mountain towns my
readers call home don't offer immediate access to the
ocean and its fresh, sushi-grade fish.
This is unfortunate, because of all of cooking's many
realms, sushi-making is the area in which I have received
the most formal instruction. When I was 16, I took an
eight-week sushi class at the Cambridge Center for Adult
Education, where I worked as a door boy. In class, we
learned about much more than the preparation of raw fish.
Teacher-San initiated us into the care and detail-orientation
of Japanese cooking, which I believe is one of the most
highly evolved cuisines on earth. Each morsel of food,
treated carefully to bring out its best qualities, is
combined with others in a simple, balanced and sophisticated
way.
Here in the mountains, I try to put the same effort
and attention into the locally available morsels. And
sometimes I go to the local sushi joint for inspiration.
The other day I was there, waiting for my raw fish (flown
in daily from Seattle), and the waiter brought a cucumber-and-fruit
salad called sunamono. As I partook of its sweet and
salty pleasures, I couldn't help but realize that both
the cucumbers and strawberries were in season, right
here, right now. The salad also contained melon, which
isn't quite ready yet. But one could, of course, substitute
cherries - or other seasonal fruit or berries - for the
melon and make a locals-only salad. Only problem was,
the waiter was as tight-lipped as an on-duty samurai
about the secret recipe, which he threatened to defend
with all of his honor, if necessary. I bowed deeply,
with all due respect, and shuffled on my way. Meanwhile,
my heart was filled with determined certainty: It will
be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine.
I got online and scoured the web, quickly realizing
that there are two common spellings for sunamono: The
other way is sunomono. Searching under both spellings
yields a plethora of recipes, all of which contain cucumber.
Some contain noodles, others contain prawns or wasabi.
None contained fruit. Meanwhile, a search for "cucumber
strawberry salad" yielded a truly disturbing number of
Jell-O-based recipes. Alas, my target recipe must be
an in-house deal - hence the carefully guarded secret.
No matter. When there is no trail, Chef Boy Ari is prepared
to bushwack.
Back at the restaurant I had jotted down some of the
obvious ingredients - surreptitiously, on a paper chopstick
wrapper, so as not to reveal my true identity. Toasted
sesame seeds, vinegar 85 I noted the absence of cucumber
seeds and the perplexing thickness of the delicate sauce.
Later on, at the lab, that thickness proved to be the
biggest hurdle of all, because this dish can easily become
too watery. I tried extra brown sugar. I considered corn
syrup. Finally, on the third try, I settled on cornstarch,
my new favorite ingredient. After several more attempts,
I got it.
And here it is, my sunamono recipe:
BD cup brown sugar
3 teaspoons rice vinegar
3 teaspoons Ume (plum vinegar, available in the Asian
section of most stores)
1 teaspoon tamari
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1 medium cucumber
Pinch of salt
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
2 teaspoons corn starch
BD cup each of cherries and strawberries (or melon)
Slice both ends off the cucumber. One end at a time,
press the sliced end back to where it was connected,
and swirl it around in a circular motion - wax on, wax
off. This draws out the dry, bitter undertones of the
cucumber in the form of a greenish white liquid.
Wash cucumber; discard ends. Peel cucumber (if you want
to be slick, you can leave thin racing stripes of peel),
slice lengthwise and remove seeds with a spoon. Slice
very thin. Sprinkle with salt, mix, and let sit in a
colander. The salt draws water from the cucumber. Once
in a while, stir the cucumber slices and squeeze them
gently.
Meanwhile, combine the sugar, rice vinegar, plum vinegar,
lemon juice and tamari.
Pan-fry the sesame seeds over med/high heat until they
start to brown. Toss cucumbers, sesame seeds, sliced
strawberries and cherries together in a bowl; stir in
sauce. Let sit in fridge.
After half an hour, the salad should be very liquidy.
Put the cornstarch into a little saucepan. Pour about
2 tablespoons of the liquid from the salad into the pan.
Stir to dissolve cornstarch, and pour the rest of the
salad juice into the pan. Heat pan, stirring, until sauce
starts to boil and thicken. Cool, and then add the thickened
dressing back to the salad. Chill and serve.
But if you prefer to use Jell-O as thickener instead
of cornstarch, well, see if I care.
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