I was recently reminded that, thanks to the myriad of projects and life changes (and, oh, persona wardrobe changes!) I've gone through in the past couple of years, I completely forgot to share information about my pre-Edo Japanese feast.
This was the 13th feast I've done in the SCA (not including Gulf Wars shindigs, Diamond Wars feeds, fundraiser breakfast and lunches, specialty meals or the like) and it was a great deal of work. I wrote up this piece shortly after Candlelight Camp: Kaidan in May 2016 - where the feast took place. Here's that article.
I was approached about creating a feast in October 2015 for an event that would happen seven months hence. The autocrats for the event asked me if I would consider a Japanese feast, as the event itself had a Japanese theme. I agreed. I was eager to attempt a meal for a culture I had not previously researched.
My previous feasts have covered a variety of cultures, from English and French to Roman and Indian, but this one became a challenge. Few tenants of cooking and culinary tradition dovetail between medieval Japan and most of the rest of the medieval world. So before I decided on a single item, I began reading everything I could get my hands on about the time period, culture and food of 15th and 16th century Japan.
Sadly, this was harder than I thought. I found a few books that covered slices of Japanese foodways of the time period, including the first third of
Japanese Foodways, Past and Present (Eric C. Rath and Stephanie Assmann, University of Illinois Press, 2010) and portions of
Food and Fantasy in Early Modern Japan (Eric C. Rath, University of California Press, 2010) along with a partial electronic copy of
The History and Culture of Japanese Food (Naomichi Ishige, Kegan Paul Limited, 2001). Each had its own merits.
Rath’s two books, published the same year by different companies, captured my imagination. In
Japanese Foodways, Rath has gathered essays on several centuries of Japanese food culture. He starts with his own section, “Honzen Dining: The Poetry of Formal Meals in Late Medieval and Early Modern Japan.” I was not surprised to find that gohan, the Japanese word for rice, is also the Japanese word for meal. What did surprise me was this fact: beef was not generally consumed in Japan until the 19th Century. Rath’s opening statement opened my eyes to a secondary challenge – creating a feast without red meat.
The idea of rice in itself was something for me to consider. Rath points out in this chapter that only nobles would have had white rice; other classes made do with brown rice, usually mixed with beans or vegetables. I decided, however, to go with white rice variants for most dishes because of the SCA idea that we are all noble. That not only made things simpler from a cook’s point of view, it allowed me the freedom to utilize cheaper rices and easier cooking methods. After all, our 21st century ideals on food has white rice as a default. But I was going to need to shift away from my modern rices, since the long grain varieties such as Basmati grown here are quite different from the Japonica and Indica shorter grains used in traditional Japanese cuisine.
Ishige’s text dives into the entire history of rice in Japan, including the preference for Japonica over the “smellier” Indica varietal. Ishige also comments on the practice of pouring off water of rice while it cooks to prevent it from becoming a gelatinized mess. He also goes into the steaming of rice and the making of sake, which for this purpose I was not planning to try.
Rath cites Mary Douglas’s previous work (
“Decipher a Meal,” Food and Culture: A Reader, Counihan/Van Esterik, Routledge 1997) on the accepted structures of creating a meal and the similarity thereof with poetry. Douglas, in this instance, was referring to honzen ryori, which translates literally into “main tray cuisine.” This dining style evolved from its first documented usage in the Muromachi period (1330-1573) through the Edo period (1600-1868); its dining style was still in use in the early part of the 20th Century. The combination of rice, soup and side dishes served in odd numbers were considered standard culinary practice until the second World War.
Douglas’s choice of pairing Japanese poetry styles and table service make sense. Japanese poems of the period were often gathered in phrases of five or seven syllables, while honzen meals consisted of odd number of dishes in the pattern of seven, five, three and one. Addition of odd numbered courses or trays increased the elaborateness of the meal.
Rath’s notes on service guided me past a popular misconception. He begins by confirming that yes, ancient Japanese dining service was on the ground or floor. He notes individuals eating from wooden boards in the Nara period (710-784) slightly elevated from the ground, and aristocrats eating from elevated trays in the Gaki Soshi (Story Book of Ghosts) from 1333 during the early Kamakura period. In the Muromachi period, he cites how chefs in the employ of samurai would serve meals on a series of trays, or honzen. The main tray would always contain a soup, rice and a number of side dishes as well as vinegar, rice and/or sauce for flavoring the items (condiment use was expected to create the flavor the diner wished to experience, since dishes were often presented unseasoned). Pickles were also common, and diners were provided with chopsticks and even toothpicks to clean the teeth. Each additional tray included another soup as well as side dishes.
Rath elaborates:
Like different types of Japanese poetry that are differentiated by their lines of syllables, honzen banquets came to be described by a shorthand that referenced the number of trays and dishes on them. Five-five-three or seven-five-three were typical formations that indicated banquet menus of three trays, each with a soup, and a corresponding number of side dishes on them, totaling thirteen side dishes for the former and fifteen for the latter. Seven-five-three (shichi, go, san) was thought to be an especially auspicious combination, one found in other areas of Japanese culture such as the visit of children to a shrine at three, five, and seven years of age.
His description continues:
These trays were positioned in front of the diner next to the main tray, and the trays were served simultaneously.
As a cook in the SCA, I have become very familiar with our traditional service of bread-on-the-table, three courses and dessert. Rath’s introduction to honzen ryori showed me several specific ideals for a Japanese table, and the biggest accommodation I needed to make was to provide a feast that would be ready to eat, almost all of it, the moment diners entered the room. I had considerations to make, the largest one being the need to coordinate all dishes to be ready to go at one single instance. But how was I going to keep dishes at the right temperature?
I’m certainly not the first person to tackle this idea. Within a few weeks of the start of my research, I was connected with THL Christopher Koch, who had just completed his own Japanese feast and who had
documented the process on his blog. His Lordship and I compared ideas on what a feast of this sort should entail. At this point, I had been considering several different forms of service, including the utilization of the metal platters my home group has for food service. His Lordship pointed out the unlikelihood of any sort of metal or wood being used for food service in pre-Edo Japan. I considered this, studied what few illustrations I could find (many of which appear in the previously mentioned books) and realized he was right. I could not serve on wood or metal, only on ceramic or glass as would have been done on the isolated, resource-poor islands that was Japan in this era.
To complete this feast, not only would I need to have all dishes ready to go pretty much when diners entered, I’d also need to have appropriate dishware. Dishes to use to serve at least 15 items.
And, from searching for any sort of relevant image and from exploring every avenue, I noticed every honzen ryori meal I saw consisted of the tray and all the dishes… a separate service for each and every item. In short, the Japanese may be the first culture to truly understand the childhood fear of having one’s food touch.
Ho boy. At this point I realized I could simply come up with some Japanese food (maybe not period, but certainly ethnic enough to be exotic), cook it and serve it the same way we’d done feasts for years. But I saw in this opportunity a chance to do something unique, and to present a challenge to myself. I was going to accumulate dishes.
Over the course of seven months, I did acquire more than 1400 ceramic and glass service pieces. They came from everywhere, from friends throwing out old dishes to yard sales and flea markets. I pestered for fairness our local Goodwill Outlet Center the price per pound of purchased items with luck – and earned a 29 cent a pound rate for ceramic and glass items rather than the standard $1.38 a pound for other items.
The same Goodwill Outlet Center provided me with other things, too, that were essential to making this feast happen. After all, it would be strange to ask a diner to bring his own tablecloth if you were providing the dishes. One afternoon I visited the center to discover someone had donated 24 identical brown table runners (or throw blankets, I still haven’t determined for certain), which I happily grabbed for tablecloths. Over the course of time, I also managed to collect two hundred mismatched napkins.
I also realized there was no suitably decent financial way for me to pull off the trays. But I had another idea. Each plate needed to be glass or ceramic. Well, I had some nice rectangular plates, but not enough for the whole feast. So, to get the flat surface I’d need plus to have the possibility of keeping cold items somewhat cold, I decided to go with food-safe ceramic kitchen tiles. The 12”x12” version looked like the way to go.
Rath’s other book,
Food and Fantasy in Early Modern Japan, shared how during the Muromachi period the meal actually began with drinks. So many drinks, in fact. Mind you, all I had been able to find through any of the books as far as references went consisted of water, tea and alcohol. No fruit juice is mentioned, nor milk, nor any other liquid substance as a beverage. Challenged with a dry site, I knew I would not be able to include sake or any other form of alcohol as part of my presentation. I also knew the water at the site had a unique… flavor. So I decided well in advance tea would be served – and, to balance modern sensibilities with the period concept, I went for an unsweetened green tea and a slightly sweetened and light chrysanthemum tea for the beverages we would share.
Rath cites Joao Rodrigues’s research in this particular chapter ("Ceremonial Banquets," page 73) in mentioning that the beauty of a dish also determined whether or not it would be consumed. The ideal, takamori (high serving), actually comes from a Chinese concept that came to Japan during the Heian period, symbolizing the home of an immortal and elevating the ryori with visual and symbolic depth.
Thing is, at this point, I’d already begin finding, rescuing and purchasing each of what would end up being more than 1400 service pieces to complete this feast. I’d begun the washing, cataloguing and packing away of 22 boxes of bowls, lidded boxes, tiny pots with tops, tiny plates and ramekins. I’d settled on 15 separate items, most of which would have to be prepared and served individually to a crowd of up to 100 people. I was managing this on a budget of $8 a person, under the watchful eye of the veritable comptrollers of my group. There comes a point where sanity must enter. That point for me was deciding that a takamori was one step too far. I decided against pursuing this show of auspicious consumption, especially since it would be an item none could consume and would therefore go to waste.
At this point, I had come to some conclusions:
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Honzen ryori service was standard service for Japanese meals served from the Muromachi period to World War II
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Several months of research had yielded no absolute period recipes in existing documentation from period
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Meals in pre-Edo Japan were served on ceramic and glass pieces
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Each item was served separately
Using this gleaned information and descriptions of items from 16th and 17th Century feasts in Rath’s
Japanese Foodways, I determined the best way to redact non-existent recipes was to find recipes from before World War II. Anything after that, and European and American influences would have taken their own toll.
Problem is, I don’t read Japanese. Even now, two months after the feast for which this research was prepared, I haven’t found a good cookbook to utilize.
What I did find, though, was
The Cooking of Japan, a volume of Time Life’s Foods of the World series. Published in 1969, this examination of the different tenants of Japanese food by Rafael Steinberg – a Harvard graduate who served as a correspondent during the Korean War – utilized a host of experts and chefs, including Fumie Adachi, the director of exhibits programming for the Japan Society of New York; Rand Castile, the education director of the Japan Society, who had researched the tea ceremony in Kyoto (the one presented is certainly post-period for this feast); and Eiko Yuasa, the head of the International Conference Hall in Kyoto.
Steinberg’s book was likely to many Americans and Canadians the first opportunity to not only practice Japanese cooking but to learn about the culinary culture of the country. The book goes into many of the same points I discovered in my period research – with seasonal eating, the importance of fish and the value of agri- and aqua-culture highly cited. For the book, dishes were created from the included recipes and beautifully photographed, showcasing many of the same serving patterns as found in honzen ryori.
My logical conclusion was that many of the dishes for this feast would come from redactions of the recipes in this volume, cross-referenced with ingredients mentioned in
The History and Culture of Japanese Food and served in the style suggested and diagrammed in
Food and Fantasy.
Creating a seasonal menu of fresh items was important, since the event was set in the springtime. I secured an individual to create a Japanese-inspired dessert and contacted individuals who have worked beside me on feasts before specifically to take on tasks such as handling raw fish, slicing, washing dishes and cutting vegetables. I developed a feast menu and began the test cooking.
In the interest of brevity (as the 2400 word point of this text sails on by), I present to you the menu we chose for this event, with ingredients.
A selection of vegetables and condiments
Lotus root, daikon, ninjin (carrot), daijo (purple yams), satsuma-imo (Japanese sweet potato)
Pickled ginger, pickled radish, soy sauce
These items were selected for carving and for condiments to decorate in place of a takamori and more ambitious decorations.
Kitsune Udon (udon noodles and fried tofu in a dashi broth)
Dashi*, udon noodles made from wheat flour, tofu fried in vegetable oil
The first soup of the meal would be hearty and substantial, with thick noodles and the exotic addition of fried tofu.
Nasubi (baked eggplant)
Eggplant, salt
A simple baked eggplant dish served in small portions added a traditional Japanese vegetable to the menu without extraordinary preparation, just a wash, slice, salt and bake.
Onijiri
Short grain rice, black sesame seeds, sea salt, nori
Onijiri have been documented back to the fourth century and come in a variety of styles. My original idea was to include bonito flakes within, but I decided instead on black sesame seeds to reduce the number of items that contained seafood.
Hiyamugi (cold soba noodles with shrimp and mushrooms)
Soba noodles made of buckwheat, sliced king oyster mushrooms, tamago (egg), boiled shrimp
By preparing this dish in advance and on separate plates, it freed up counter and cooking space for other items. This traditional dish was usually served cold, so no worries there.
Goma Joyu-ae (string beans in soy and sesame sauce served cold)
Green beans, sesame paste, sesame seeds, soy sauce, sugar
A simple dish of steamed green beans in sesame sauce went over very, very well.
Komo Sakamushi (sake steamed chicken served cold)
Chicken, michiu
The original dish called for duck instead of chicken to be steamed. Frankly, I couldn’t afford duck for 100 people, so I went with a different poultry. I also went with michiu instead of sake for the steaming, which took place off-site because the site was dry. Michiu is Chinese rice wine, virtually identical to sake.
Shoyu Tamago (whole hard boiled eggs boiled again in soy sauce) - Egg, soy sauce
Another simple dish, though I was hoping for a darker brown to the eggs. That’s what you get when you decide to boil 120 eggs in soy sauce!
Toshikoshi Soban Dashi*
Long life noodles, dashi, sliced kombu (kelp)
This simple dish was nothing more than long life noodles that had been tossed in a dashi broth right before service. However, the original dish was going to be ramen noodles, which were in one fashion period to Japan but not in the flash-fried form in which we Americans are used to seeing it today.. I just ran into a sale and decided to go with it. Strangely enough, there were a lot of people that preferred this change!
Unagi Kabayaki
Smoked barbecue eel slices
From the beginning, knowing the value of aqua-culture and seafood in the Japanese diet, I knew I needed to include seafood in the feast. I went with a combination of eel and tuna to satisfy the sashimi requirement I sensed from Rath’s description of period feasts. However, there was one issue I had not contemplated. This dish was originally supposed to have been a sashimi of grilled eel. When I went to pick up my properly butchered eels, I was alarmed to discover that live eels had been ordered instead. After consulting with a professional chef, I determined that I did not have the skills to safely prepare this dish, and sadly resolve to remove eel from my menu. However, the proprietor at Sam’s Oriental Store laughed kindly at my story and brought out for me prepared barbecue eel, which was slice thinly and served instead. It worked.
Nigiri
Glutenous white rice, rice vinegar, rice bran oil, sugar, salt
Rath’s work talked about the difference between sashimi (raw fish), nigiri and sushi. While sashimi did exist in period, as did nigiri, sushi as we know it today came along much later. The maki roll, my friends, is the equivalent of the sandwich and did not come about until post-period. Nigiri, on the other hand, refers not to rice with a slice of fish on top but to the rice ball itself.
Tataki Maguro (seared peppered tuna)
Sushi-grade tuna, black pepper, oil, soy sauce, citrus
Because of the nature of this dish, I had a professional chef who happens to be a member of the SCA handle the searing of the tataki, and another SCA member who has been a professional chef in the past just to slice it. Four pounds served every diner.
Binnaga maguro
Albacore tuna, salt
I had tried to source ahi tuna for weeks with no luck. Friends in the Kroger seafood department hooked me up with a lovely discount on albacore tuna. However, the flavor was so far different from the flavor profile of the feast, I did not serve this to all tables, only to the one table in the back that requested all the tuna. I’m looking at you, Ibrahim.
Kani Kyuri Ikomi
Cucumber, pickled ginger, imitation crab (fish cake)
I didn’t find this dish mentioned in any of Rath’s references, but he did mention stuffed items as well as cucumbers and fish cake. This crab-stuffed cucumber is very pretty, and I decided its appeal, combined with the use of both seafood and vegetable in a single item, made it worthy to add to this feast. It was well received.
Edamame
Immature soybeans served salted and cold
Soybeans and soy sauce are well known to be Japanese staple items today. Edamame is also an Arkansas product, so I was thrilled to incorporate simple edamame in their pods.
Sekihan (celebration rice)
Adzuki beans, red beans, short grained rice, salt, sugar
This dish’s ancestry goes back to red rice that was grown, harvested and prepared in a Shinto ritual as a sacrificial dish evolved over time. The custom of cooking adzuki beans with rice in a kayu (porridge) began in the Imperial court in the mid-Heian Period (794-1185) and remains to this day – to the point where the phrase “Let’s get sekihan” is synonymous with “let’s celebrate.” That being said, the dish I prepared truly conveyed the overwhelming glutinous nature of both the beans and rice. It could have been used to post wallpaper. It could have been used for bathroom caulk. For those who liked the flavor, it was an unexpected treat. For everyone else, it was a big bowl of what.
Misoshiri
Dashi*, miso paste, daikon, scallion
For the final soup, I wanted something light and small. This lightly fragrance soup was served over pre-delivered slices of daikon and scallion via pitcher into two ounce ramekins for just the right nice light touch. This was the best way I could decide to serve a hot soup without it standing a great while. If the daikon had spent longer in the broth, it’d have been a daikon soup instead.
Kuro Mochigome
Bowls of this blackish purple rice were provided at each table as contrast to the other rices in other dishes.
Teriyaki
Beef, soy sauce, brown sugar, michiu, mirin, fresh ginger, garlic, white sugar
There is an expectation for SCA feasts that all participants will find enough to eat to be satisfied. Under this thought, I decided to break a taboo of the period by serving what today would be considered a very normal dish. I marinated slices of chuck roast and sirloin tip in a handmade teriyaki sauce mixed up before we came to site (because of the michiu). The beef was skewered and then roasted until internal safe temperature was reached. Because of budget issues and to eliminate food waste on an expensive dish, these skewers were delivered individually instead of served on the tray. None were wasted, and all but three were gone before the night was over. Don’t hate me, but I set aside those three for my breakfast the next day.
I do feel I need to add a bit more here about teriyaki’s place in Japanese food, but I am starting to worry about all these words and the reader who is ingesting them.
Tori Gohan
Chicken, short grain rice, michiu, mirin, soy sauce, button and shiitake mushrooms
Chicken and rice is a very traditional one-pot dish, not just in Japan but almost anywhere where chicken and rice come into contact. Here, we recycled the chicken broth and michiu from the steaming process and used it to rehydrate the button and shiitake mushrooms before adding the rest in as broth to the dish. This can be served hot or cold. I wanted to serve it warm, but faulty ovens put us behind and instead it was prepared in advance and served chilled.
*Dashi contains kombu (kelp), bonito flakes (dried fish flakes), shiitake mushrooms and water.
While modern culinary texts talk about how Japanese schoolchildren love sweets, I found little in the way of dessert descriptions in the books I read. What I did notice were the reference to sweet fruits. My original inclination was to include peaches, which are a late spring fruit in parts of Japan. However, fresh Arkansas peaches aren’t available until late July. We augmented with a peach and honey cake to round out the feast. My partner also provided a cake of green tea.
Thanks to pre-cooking, a strong kitchen crew and a little luck, most dishes were on the table when diners arrived. The overall effect was considerable, with the comment being made about how quiet it was not to hear all those dishes being pulled out of baskets and hampers while folks would normally be setting up their own gear. Communication with the nobles of our feast in advance meant no one really had to wait to begin. A few dishes were served after the start of the feast – notably, cold dishes of the eel and tataki; the long life noodles; beef teriyaki; dishes of the tori gohan and the cakes at the end of feast. Best of all for this cook was the possibility of setting up a special table just for the staff. At the end of this feast, the cooks and preparers who made the feast possible sat down and shared noodles together.
Of note – this feast contained absolutely no dairy. There were no loaves of bread or chunks of cheese, or any large hunks of meat. Advertisements for the event included the very specific information for those who cannot eat seafood about the amount of seafood in the feast. Adequate sharing of menus and ingredients before the event lead to proper plans being put in place, which meant everyone had the opportunity for happiness.
The accumulated dishes were dispersed in several ways. Local groups who needed service gear were gifted with some pieces, while members of the populace who needed feast gear were happily encouraged to take what they need. This cook kept a few service pieces for projects such an arts and science project, and the remainder were donated back to Goodwill. All of the service gear was purchased with non-SCA funds with the exception of the chopsticks used for the feast.
I've been asked for a while to write up the history and process of making the hats I wear as part of my Mughal garb. Here's what I've garnered.
You will need:
