In an effort to expand my tofu horizons, I've been scanning the shelves for interesting-looking products, and this green and lovely cake of edamame (fresh soybean) tofu caught my eye. Unlike plain tofu, it has a fairly pronounced flavor, kind of sweet and nutty, helped along by the actual beans studded throughout. To prepare it, I just patted it dry, added some grated ginger, chopped myoga and green onions and a splash of tsuyu. Oishii, yo!

The texture is soft, more like a kinugoshi (silk) tofu, because it was made using nigari*, a coagulant derived from seawater. Since it is so delicate, it's officially okay to eat this type of tofu with a spoon, but -- as when I eat sushi with my fingers -- I never feel quite right about doing it. I feel like, if I were a real chopstick master, I'd be able to manage it with ease. So I usually end up using chopsticks anyway and sacrificing the little bits of errant tofu that end up at the bottom of the bowl for the cause of my future chopstick champion status.

*For a truly interesting read/listen, check out the The Food Issue of The New Yorker, which has an article about artisanal tofu makers in Japan. It's where I first learned about nigari.

Melons are big in Japan. Not really size-wise, more in popularity. And price. And sometimes weirdness. Take, for example, this:

It's not just on The Simpsons....

While (sadly) not usually square, melons in Japan are reliably delicious, sweet and juicy and full of flavor, which is more than can be said for 90% of the melons sold in the U.S. So even though I wasn't sure I wanted to adulterate my beautiful, perfect, expensive melon, I decided to go for it and came up with this sorbet, using this recipe and this overview of sorbet-making. It's sweet, cool, melon-y and takes up less room in my teeny tiny refrigerator than a real melon would. It's the taste of summer, frozen!

Melon Sorbet

Makes 8 servings

about 1 pound (500 grams) diced melon
3 Tbs lemon juice
2 Tbs sake
1 cup sugar, or to taste

Process the melon in a food processor or blender until smooth. Add the remaining ingredients and process for 30 seconds. Taste for sweetness. The mixture should be hovering on the edge of too sweet; frozen desserts seem less sweet than they actually are. Process in more sugar as needed, then pour the mixture into a lidded container. Chill in the refrigerator for one hour.

Put mixture into your ice cream maker and process according to the manufacturer's instructions. (If you don't have an ice cream maker, there are instructions for freeze-and-stir sorbet-making in the sorbet overview I linked to above.) Transfer to a lidded container and freeze for at least 3 hours before serving.

As much as I'd like to believe the health benefits of kinako are retained when it is eaten in ice cream form, I have a feeling the whole milk, heavy cream and egg beat the soy into submission. I suppose you could try making this recipe with soymilk. But I like my ice cream deliciously detrimental to my health.

Kinako in ice cream form does, however, retain its nutty flavor and general yumminess. If you like peanut butter, you'll like this.

Kinako Ice Cream

Makes 4 servings

1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup whole milk
1/3 cup kinako (toasted soybean flour)
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup heavy cream

In a saucepan over medium-low heat, stir together the sugars and milk. Gradually stir in the kinako. When the mixture begins to simmer, remove from heat, and whisk half of the mixture into the egg. Pour the egg mixture back into the saucepan, and stir in the heavy cream. Continue cooking over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a metal spoon, about two minutes. Remove from heat, and strain into a container with a lid.

Chill in the refrigerator, ideally for at least 4 hours and up to overnight. This will improve the texture. Pour chilled mixture into an ice cream maker, and freeze according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Tsuyu is the name for the rainy season in Japan, which is currently in full swing. The two characters of the word mean "plum rain," which I think is a rather undeservedly pretty name for several weeks of constant rain, sogginess and encroaching mold.

Tsuyu is also the name of a sauce usually used as a dip for cold noodles. I think tsuyu is delicious during tsuyu. I thought there might be some connection between the two, but my word detectivery was cut short when the first Japanese person I asked said, "They're just homonyms." (My word inventery, however, has continued unabated.)

I've been using tsuyu a lot in the last couple weeks, especially on days when it's too hot to fire up the fish grill and I'm sweating so much I can barely peel the paper bands off my soba noodles. My reliance on tsuyu as a way to cook without really cooking explains why I buy the bottled stuff, as opposed to making it from scratch. I'm a terrible Japanese housewife, I know. But the Kikkoman Hon Tsuyu is really very good, I assure you.

Some additional ingredient notes: Katakuriko is a starch made from potatoes, similar to cornstarch, but with its own special texture. So while cornstarch is an acceptable substitute, I think the lovely chewiness of agedashidōfu made with katakuriko is not to be missed. (You can buy it online here.) Lastly, I find it is worth it to spend more on soba noodles. More expensive noodles will undoubtedly be more flavorful and have a better texture than the cheaper brands in the store, so go ahead...spend the extra dollar. Plum rain season comes but once a year.

Agedashidōfu (Fried Tofu with Tsuyu)

1 block momen (cotton) tofu
2 Tbs katakuriko (potato starch)
vegetable oil
1/4 cup tsuyu
2 Tbs green onion, chopped
1/2 myōga bulb, thinly sliced, or 1/2 tsp grated ginger

Drain the tofu. I wrap mine in paper towel, put it in a bowl and microwave it for 50-second intervals two or three times, wrapping it in fresh paper towel between zappings. Then I let it sit for 5-10 minutes on a dry paper towel. It loses a lot of water and feels much more firm at that point.

Cut the tofu into eight pieces and dredge in the potato starch. Cover the bottom of a skillet with a thin layer of vegetable oil and heat over a medium flame. When the oil is hot, put in the pieces of tofu and cook briefly on all sides, until just barely golden. Remove from the oil and put on a paper-towel-lined plate.

Transfer the tofu to two small bowls and top with the tsuyu, green onions and myōga or ginger.

Thanks to James for introducing me to the delicious simplicity of homemade agedashidōfu.

Cold Soba Noodles with Sesame Tsuyu

1 bundle of soba noodles (about 100 grams)
1 Tbs white sesame seeds
1/3 cup tsuyu
1 Tbs green onion, chopped

Bring a pot of water to a boil and add the soba noodles. Cook for about 4 minutes, or until the noodles are al dente. Immediately drain into a colander and rinse well under cold water.

Toast the sesame seeds in a pan over a low flame, tossing or stirring the seeds constantly until they become fragrant and golden. Pour into a small bowl and with a pestle or wooden spoon, grind and crunch up some of the seeds. Add the tsuyu and green onions.

Put the noodles in a large bowl and serve with the sesame tsuyu. To eat, dip the noodles in the sauce and slurp away!

The summer heat and humidity descended last weekend and, not wanting to cook anything beyond rice, I thought it was the right time to experiment with maguro no tataki don, or minced raw tuna over rice, especially since June is apparently when maguro tastes its best. The quail egg addition was inspired by a dish I had at an izakaya in Osaka a few months ago. I've recently been eating a lot of myōga, a kind of ginger, so I sliced that up and threw it in, along with lots of green onions, some grated ginger and chopped shiso. The fresh taste of the herbs mixed with the buttery fish, the slippery egg and the hot rice was so good I ate it three times over the weekend. (In part because I didn't know what else to do with a dozen quail eggs.) I hearby proclaim it The Official Delicious Coma Dish of Early Summer 2006.

Some notes on ingredients: Myōga and shiso are both available at Japanese markets, but if you can't find them, you could substitute other leafy herbs. Shiso is said to taste a bit like a combination of basil and mint. Cilantro might also be good and would make me jealous because I can't buy cilantro here. Quail eggs can most likely be found at Japanese or Chinese markets; a fresh, organic chicken egg yolk could be substituted.

Maguro no tataki don (Minced Tuna and Herbs on Rice)

Serves 2

5 oz/150 g sashimi-quality raw tuna
1/2-inch piece of ginger, grated
1 1/2 Tbsp chopped green onion
1 myōga bud, thinly sliced
1 shiso leaf, thinly sliced
(or substitute 2 Tbsp fresh herbs for myōga and shiso)
1/4 tsp soy sauce, or to taste

1 cup freshly-cooked Japanese rice
1 quail egg or 1 organic chicken egg yolk

Using a very sharp knife, mince the tuna. (Or buy already-tataki-ed tuna from a Japanese grocery store. And yes, I did make up the word "tataki-ed.") In a small bowl, mix the tuna with the ginger, green onions and herbs. Add the soy sauce and mix.

Spoon the rice into two bowls and top with the tuna mixture. Make a small hollow in the middle and crack the egg into it. Serve with Japanese pickles and mugi-cha, cold barley tea.