Jesse Kirkwood > Quotes

“Taste is a peculiar thing," began Nagare, reaching for a Karatsu-ware teacup and filling it with green tea. "The taste of home, for example. It's different for everyone--- and I don't mean just the food. Every family has its own flavor too. The feeling of safety you get from being together, the way you look out for each other--- all that combines to create a unique sensation.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Looks like you brought us a souvenir," said Nagare, plucking a plum petal from the jacket's shoulder.
"Oh," said Shuji, staring at the petal in Nagare's hand. "Must have fallen on me at the shrine."
"How does that tanka go again?" said Koishi. Then she recited:

When the east wind blows,
Let it send your fragrance,
Oh plum blossoms.
Although your master is gone,
Do not forget the spring.

"Something like that, anyway."
Nagare nodded. "Love is a force to be reckoned with. But it can also be a pretty short-lived affair." He blew into his hand and the petal went fluttering into the air.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“You quickly simmer the hamaguri clams in sake, mirin, and soy sauce, then serve them on the rice. At Fusa Sushi, the resulting leftover liquid was boiled down and used as a glaze for the conger eel and hamaguri clam sushi. But because Kazusa-meshi was so popular, there was still plenty of the stuff left over. Rather than waste it, the owner started taking it over to his brother next door--- who put it in his ten-don sauce. The owner of Fusa Sushi kindly told me the recipe."
"So that sauce I just ate was flavored with... hamaguri clams?" asked Keiko, gazing steadily at the photo.
"That's right. Now, the soup at Tenfusa was hamaguri broth. I made the fish ball the way he told me too, using a mix of hamaguri and white-fleshed fish. That's right--- the first time you visited, I happened to be serving a sake-simmered hamaguri stock for the soup. Of course, in that soup, the fish balls were made from sardines--- which your hometown of Ishinomaki is famous for. That, combined with the clam-flavored broth, explains why you found the flavor so nostalgic. You've quite the discerning palate, clearly!”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“He appeared a moment later bearing a bowl of rice topped with eel.
"Thought I'd grill some soy-marinated hamo eel, rather than the usual unagi. Steamed it too, Tokyo-style, so the bones should be nice and soft. This soup is made from the liver--- add a dash of ginger juice if you feel like it. As for the eel, some of this ground sansho pepper should pair with it nicely.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“In the top left you have simmered Nagaoka bamboo shoots and wakame seaweed from Izumo, served in a Karatsu-ware bowl. Next to that, on the long Oribe dish, is grilled masu salmon seasoned with pepper tree leaves. The square Kutani bowl is dashi-simmered egg scrambled with green peas. The next row down is a series of five small Imari plates. Starting on the left: white miso clam gratin; salad of finely chopped cockles and Kujo green onion; tilefish sashimi with a ponzu, miso, and pepper-tree-leaf dressing; slow-cooked Tamba chicken in a salt koji marinade. At the end, on the right, is pickled sweetfish sushi, served whole. The round dish at the bottom is a selection of wild vegetables: butterbur buds, devil's-walking-stick, ostrich fern, momiji-gasa, bracken shoots, and smilax. Normally those would be served as tempura, but I've gone for something a little different and deep-fried them Western-style instead. Sprinkle them with matcha salt if you like, or they go very nicely with this green peppercorn-infused Worcestershire sauce." Nagare produced a bottle of white wine. "Now, will something like this do?"
"Hang on a moment," said Kana, reaching for her digital camera again.
"My friend in Tamba makes this," continued Nagare. "Hundred percent Chardonnay grapes, fermented in small French casks, apparently. Has an elegant flavor--- perfect for spring, I'd say.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Everything on this platter is hamo eel or ayu sweetfish: two essential parts of Kyoto summer cuisine," explained Nagare. "Starting from the top left: miniature hamo sushi rolls. One teriyaki-style, and one shirayaki--- without any seasoning, that is. Next to that, in the small bowl, is shredded hamo eel skin, pickled and served with okra. On top of the bamboo grass leaf are two little ayu, caught in the Katsura River--- salted and grilled. In the glass sake cup is a delicacy known as uruka--- basically the salted entrails and roe of the ayu. Similar to shiokara, if you've had that. The deep-fried dish in the middle on the right is ayu fry. They're sprinkled with sansho pepper salt, so you can enjoy them as they are. Bottom right, on the perilla leaf, is hamo no otoshi: boiled slices of the eel, served with pickled plum paste and myoga ginger. Bottom left, meanwhile, is hamo no hasamiyaki, which is seasoned with white miso and fried between slices of Yamashina eggplant.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Yoshie scooped some of the cake's topping onto her finger. "This cream. Why does it smell so good?"
"Satoko mixed peach juice into it. Fushimi used to be famous for peaches, after all--- I mean, the Momoyama castle was even named after them.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Here's the soup. Nothing new, but if you're going to have broth in summer, it has to be botan-hamo: lightly boiled hamo eel, named for the way it's cut into the shape of a peony to remove the bones. As for this ayu rice, the only ingredient is in the name. The fish are deboned, so all you need to do is sprinkle some of these chopped mitsuba leaves on top. The pickles on the side are eggplant and myoga ginger. Now, you tuck in, and I'll bring you a cup of hojicha.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“He drained his first cup of sake, then maneuvered his chopsticks toward their first destination: the thick shrimp-paste omelet. Layered and rolled into a fragrant cakelike sponge, it was an irresistible combination of savory and sweet--- just the way Takayuki liked it.
Next, he began loosening the various elements from the willow skewer and popping them into his mouth. The shrimp dumplings were succulent, the salted cucumber refreshing, and the quail meatballs--- which included the soft bones ground up in the paste--- dense with rich flavor.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“Starting in the top left: fugu from Mikawa Bay, fried karaage style, and boiled Kano crab. To the right of that are grilled skewers of duck meatball and Kujo green onion, and tilefish tempura. Shogoin daikon and millet cake, baked in a miso glaze; Horikawa burdock and hamo fish cakes in broth. Below that are sake-steamed hamaguri clams, stewed Kintoki carrots and Kujo green onion, and the grilled fish is miso-marinated pomfret.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“The skewers in the top left are inspired by those colored mochi balls people like to eat at this time of year. Shrimp dumplings, baby cucumber, and quail meatballs, all speared onto a willow branch. The thick omelet next to that is the sort of tamagoyaki you'd get at a Tokyo sushi restaurant--- cooked with shrimp paste. Then you have the sawara mackerel, grilled Kyoto-style in a sweet white miso marinade, and in the small bowl below, a selection of steamed vegetables. Baby taro, Kintoki carrot, pumpkin, lotus root, and Shogoin turnip. On that tissue paper in the middle are various edible wild plants, all deep-fried: ostrich fern, butterbur buds, momiji-gasa, angelica buds, and mugwort. Those are good with a bit of matcha salt, or you might want to try dipping them in Worcestershire-style sauce in that little pot. To the left of that, wrapped in the green bamboo leaf, is cherry-bass sushi, while the small bowl next to that is flash-boiled Omi beef, with a ponzu vinegar gelée.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“The fish on the rectangular plate are autumn ayu, salted and grilled. One of them is lightly smoked over wood chips from a mixture of cherry blossom and apple trees; the other--- with the roe--- is marinated in a yuzu-infused sauce. Feel free to garnish them with the finely chopped water-pepper leaves on the side. In the cut-glass bowl is some late-season hamo eel, in a tangy nanban-style marinade. You could sprinkle some kuro shichimi on there if you want to spice it up a little. Oh, and don't worry: All the fish is cooked right through! The Oribe bowl contains today's fried dishes: The breaded chunks of autumn eggplant and Omi beef are best paired with the miso sauce, while these two--- surf clam and vegetable tempura, and fried kuruma prawn fish balls--- will go nicely with the matcha salt. And the Karatsu cup is filled with a mixture of miniature taro, baby matsutake mushroom, red konnyaku jelly, and okra.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“The pink ingredient in your fried rice: it had to be these." Nagare produced a packet of fish sausages from a plastic bag at his side. "You must have noticed them in the rice?"
"Oh yes," said Hatsuko. "You know, I think I remember seeing something like that in our fridge."
"I picked these up in Yawatahama. A local butcher told me this brand was the closest you could get to the type Aihachi Foods used to make." Nagare set the sausages to one side, then produced another packet from his bag. "Now, this was the other reason for that pink color."
"What's that?" asked Hatsuko.
"A Yawatahama specialty. Kamaboko flakes. Just like bonito flakes, except made from kamaboko fish cake instead of tuna. They were invented back before people had fridges, as a way of making kamaboko last longer. Normally you'd sprinkle them over things like chirashi-zushi, but your mother decided they'd be a good addition to her fried rice. They make a pretty decent drinking snack too, by the way." Nagare opened the packet and retrieved a handful of the flakes, which he began to nibble on.
"So it wasn't just the fish sausage, then," said Hatsuko, also sampling the flakes.
"That's right," said Koishi, grabbing a handful for herself. "Given what they're both made from, it's no wonder you remembered the fried rice having a fishy flavor."
"As for the all-important seasoning," continued Nagare, "I imagine she used a mix of shredded shio-kombu and sour plum. That's where that tart aftertaste you mentioned came from. Then I realized: sour plum is pink too. It all fits the color scheme, see?" He showed her a can of the shredded kelp and sour plum mix. Hatsuko gave a deep, appreciative nod.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“First, the sashimi: soy-marinated tuna with a wasabi dressing, fresh slices of yuba, and thin-sliced sea bream smeared with sesame-seed paste. Dashi-maki omelet; miniature tilefish sushi; boiled hon-shimeji mushrooms and mizuna leaves in a bonito flake and soy sauce dressing; and pickled turnip cut into chrysanthemum flowers. These skewers are quail balls, steamed prawn, and salted smashed cucumber.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“He detected a faint hint of tonkatsu in the broth, but the base was definitely chicken rather than pig bones. The broth wasn't quite transparent, but it was a great deal clearer than the turbid liquid that usually accompanied ramen these days. It seemed quite possible there was some kind of fish stock in there too. A garlicky, gingery aroma rose from the bowl.
The noodles were the thin, straight type, and cooked slightly on the firm side. On top of them lay two slices of roast pork and another two of kamaboko fish cake. These were accompanied by bean sprouts, pickled bamboo shoots, and negi onion.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Shokado bento boxes were originally paint boxes, you know--- that's why they're divided up into squares like that. Anyway, in the top left are the appetizers. Wakasa winter mackerel, marinated in vinegar and served sashimi-style; Hinase oysters simmered in a sweet soy and mirin sauce; Kyoto-reared chicken, deep-fried in the Toji temple style using a yuba batter; vinegared Taiza crab; stewed Shishigatani pumpkin; and Omi beef, marinated and deep-fried Tatsuta-age style. All served bite-size. In the top right is what we call 'imobo'--- dried codfish stewed with ebi-imo taro. I've served it with grated yuzu from Mio. Should brighten up the flavor a little. Bottom right is a selection of sashimi: lightly salted Wakasa tilefish served on a bed of kelp, and Toyama winter yellowtail, sliced extra thin and wrapped in thin slices of lightly pickled Shogoin turnip. Try those with a bit of the shredded shio-kombu--- kelp simmered in soy sauce. And bottom left is the rice, cooked in soft-shelled turtle broth. It's a very delicate flavor, so you can eat it just like you would plain white rice. In that little sake cup is some squeezed ginger juice--- try drizzling that on the rice, if you like. It'll really bring out the flavor. The soup is white miso with chunks of millet cake. Take your time, and enjoy!”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“The sakura shrimp fishing season has just started in Yui, so that's the first catch you're eating. If you believe what they say, that means you'll live a long and healthy life."
Nagare removed the lid from the bowl, releasing a cloud of steam. Kana leaned over, closed her eyes, and took a deep sniff of the clear broth.
"It smells wonderful!"
"The only solid ingredient is diced tofu. Plus a garnish of pepper tree leaves."
"Just tofu? But this aroma--- it's so complex."
"The stock is from quick-grilled sweetfish bones. I had plenty of them left over from all that sushi."
"So that's what I'm picking up," replied Kana, sniffing the steam again. "Who'd have thought those tiny little bones could add so much flavor?”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“I tried the deep-fried horse mackerel--- your father's favorite, apparently--- and it was far better than any version of it I've ever had in Kyoto."
"You're rambling, Dad," complained Koishi. "Tell him about the nori-ben."
"What's the rush? Anyway, the point is, Mr. Aramiya knows his fish. He comes from a long line of fishermen, and apparently even ran his own sushi place at one point. With someone like that whispering secrets in your father's ear, it's no wonder his nori-ben turned out so delicious."
Nagare picked up the right-hand bento and continued. "Sure, it looks exactly the same. Both on top---" he inserted a pair of chopsticks into the top-right section, which Kyosuke hadn't yet reached--- "and when you dig down inside." Koishi and Kyosuke watched as Nagare carefully set the segment on the lid of the bento, revealing the individual layers. "And yet it's not the same."
"Hmm... it has the same three layers. Looks identical to me," said Koishi, inspecting it from the side. Kyosuke nodded in agreement.
"The difference is this part in the middle," said Nagare, removing the top layer of nori. "Look carefully. Those aren't bonito flakes, are they?"
"You're right!" exclaimed Koishi, leaning in for a closer look. "Is that... fish meat?"
Kyosuke was still gazing blankly, apparently unable to see the difference. Nagare darted into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a styrofoam box. He held it up in front of the waiting pair, then opened it to reveal a fish.
"Cutlass fish, this is called. See how it looks just like a sword? That's what's in the bento. Grilled, minced, and seasoned with soy sauce and kabosu fruit. Both cutlass fish and kabosu are Oita specialties--- and the citric acid in the kabosu stops the dish from spoiling too. If you just use bonito flakes, the flavor can get a little monotonous, but this gives it heaps of depth.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“What is concealed becomes beautiful.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“Dad, what was that soup you mentioned just now?" asked Koishi as she wiped the table down. "Kenoshiru, did you say?"
"Chopped vegetables--- daikon, carrot, and so on--- deep-fried tofu, and konnyaku, simmered in kombu stock. Apparently the trick is to mix in something called jinda--- mashed soybeans, basically--- right at the end."
"Why did you say that made her father a kind man?" asked Koishi as she made her way into the living room.
"See, the snow's so deep in winter up there that they can't pick the traditional seven herbs of spring," replied Nagare, folding up his newspaper and following her. "So instead of making seven-herb porridge on the seventh of January like everyone else, they make kenoshiru soup. A huge pot of it, which they eat right through until the middle of January. Apparently the original idea was to give women a break from working in the kitchen all the time."
"Hear that, Mum?" said Koishi, kneeling in front of the family altar. "Sounds like the real gentlemen are all up in Hirosaki."
"Hey, we're even nicer in Kyoto. Kikuko knows that better than anyone."
"You keep telling yourself that, Dad," said Koishi, her eyes opening slightly as she joined her hands together and prayed.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“The grilled dish is miso-marinated pomfret, and the small bowls are simmered Horikawa burdock with Akashi octopus, Shogoin turnip, and Donko shiitake mushrooms. Those small fish wrapped in perilla leaves are moroko, stewed in a sweet soy and mirin sauce. The deep-fried dishes are winter mackerel, done Tatsuta-age style by marinating it first, and ebi-imo taro, fried straight-up. Wrapped around the green negi onion is roast duck, around the thicker, white negi is Kurobuta pork. Try dipping those in the wasabi or the mustard. As for the steamed rice with Seko crab, that'll taste best with these mitsuba leaves sprinkled on top.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“As they drove onto the bridge that would bring them round to the north side of the station, the phrase "purple hills and crystal waters," an old poetic shorthand for Kyoto's scenic beauty, came to Takayuki's mind. The hilly Higashiyama area to the east was veiled in a purplish spring haze, and chances were good that the waters of the Kamogawa were looking pretty crystalline too.
Good old Rai San'yo, he thought, recalling the poet who'd coined the phrase.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“No, it's cutlass fish hot pot tonight. Just as tasty as making it with hamo eel, I reckon."
Koishi's eyes lit up. "Phew. There's the dad I know! That really will go well with a cup of sake."
"I picked the fish up from the market in Oita," said Nagare, retrieving the styrofoam box from the fridge. "It's a special brand--- Kunisaki Gintachi. I figured we could use it the same way we use hamo eel here in Kyoto, so I really stocked up."
"Fewer bones then hamo too," said Koishi as she carefully wiped the counter down. "It'll be less of a pain to cook.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Soybean flour?"
"Yes. Apparently he uses it to bind the hamburger. You know, just like in Tsugaru soba--- your hometown's pride and joy." Nagare produced a leaflet about the soft soba noodles that were a Hirosaki specialty.
Now that she knew why the hamburger steak tasted so familiar, Kana wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. Tsugaru soba was the most popular dish at the Takeda Diner---and the subject of most of the articles that were written about it.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“The sushi rice was topped with thin strips of omelet, grilled conger eel, steamed prawns, boiled shiitake mushrooms, ginkgo nuts, and large green soybeans. There was also a scattering of something reddish pink--- probably dried and shredded fish.
Taking care not to touch the bowl again, Shuji used his chopsticks to scoop up some of the mushi-zushi and slip it into his mouth.
It was so hot that he found himself wondering how it was even possible for food to retain such a high temperature. He opened his mouth wide as he chewed, releasing clouds of steam.
The rice itself was packed with minced conger eel; he could feel its rich umami flavor racing across his tongue. Now he saw what a bit of warmth could bring to a bowl of sushi.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness

“Young sakura shrimp from the sea, and butterbur shoots from the mountains--- all cooked together with the rice." Nagare dished some of the rice from the pot into a small rice bowl. "Spring's the time of new life, after all. It's lightly seasoned, so you can enjoy it as it is--- or put a dollop of this butterbur miso on top and then pour tea over it if you'd prefer it chazuke-style.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Today's rice is mixed with hamo eel," said Nagare, returning with a Shigaraki-ware clay pot and a small, lidded bowl.
"Interesting. I've had hamo as sushi plenty of times, but never with regular rice."
"Well, it's certainly not as fancy as sushi," replied Nagare, setting the pot down on a woven straw mat. "Anyone could whip it up at home."
"And what's the soup?" asked Nobuo, removing the lid from the small bowl.
"I chopped up the skin from the hamo and made it into dumplings. Add a bit of this yuzu peel too, if you like."
Nagare appeared to have deliberately used one of Nobuo's creations to serve the soup. A tempting fragrance was rising from the jet-black lacquered bowl.
"Regular green tea all right for you?" asked Koishi, showing him a Kyo-ware teapot.
"Oh, yes. In fact, at home I like to have a cup of bo-cha."
"Bo-cha?" repeated Koishi, pausing with her teapot at the ready.
"A specialty of Kaga, back in Ishikawa. It's a sort of roasted green tea--- like hojicha, basically, but made using the stems rather than the leaves. It's all about the fragrance."
"Nothing like it after a good meal, is there?" Koishi poured the green tea into a tall, narrow cup, releasing a smoky aroma.
"This is just a small portion for now," said Nagare, placing a bowl of rice in front of Nobuo. "But there's plenty in the pot, so just tell me if you'd like more."
Nobuo's eyes widened. "This is the... hamo rice?"
"Almost looks like plain white rice, doesn't it? I broke up the flesh from some grilled hamo and mixed it into the freshly cooked rice, and shredded perilla for seasoning. Really ties the flavors together. And if you're wanting to pour that tea over your rice and eat it chazuke-style, I'd recommend adding some of these toppings: wasabi, nori seaweed, and crumbled rice crackers." Nagare set the wooden spatula he'd used to serve the rice on the lid of the clay pot.
"I didn't realize the hamo flesh would be this white without the skin," said Nobuo, reaching for his chopsticks. "It's practically gleaming!"
Just as Nagare had said, it looked like little more than regular white rice. But as he raised a clump of it toward his mouth, the potent smell of hamo reached his nose first. The rice was clearly packed with the eel's flesh. Meanwhile, its skin had been used to make dumplings for the soup. This determination not to let any ingredient go to waste seemed typical of Nagare's style.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Menu of Happiness