Ooooooooo-kay. First, I dedicate this blog entry to Uncle Ben (who, I'm sure, was just waiting for me to post something completely and unabashedly ~all~ about food. Go ahead. Comment away) and Abby (who gave me that little bit of dangerous assurance that someone's out there reading the blog and interested in recipies).
Before cooking commences, here's the back-story. I had kind of a shitty evening tonight-- got completely walloped by one of the elementary 1st graders in kendo... she didn't really pay attention when I said that what she was doing hurt (hey, I was wearing protective gear), but now I'm nursing a line of small wealts and a hand-sized bruise. I don't think anything's broken... but man... boys beware when this girl becomes a teen... she can take care of herself!
... and so I came home and baked cookies and now feel much better ^^ It must be a Granville (my mother's side of the family) thing.
This is gingerbread a la Japan. By which I mean it includes ingredients that can be found in Japan (hey, if I can get them on the island, any of ya'll mainlanders should be able to dig up this stuff too) which, I must point out, does NOT include molasses, brown sugar, or ground ginger. That's right. No ground ginger necessary. But how, you ask, will you make gingerbread men cookies without ground ginger? The answer, my friends, is 'cuz we've got the real stuff over here. That's right. Scary, twisted brown ginger root strong enough to knock you into next week or at least Korea (hey, it's only 53 kilometers away). You may be able to find it in the states (or outside of Asia) in fru-fru healthy/organic grocery stores or Asian food markets.
And, before I forget, a big hand to Tulip Girl for posting this recipe (www.tulipgirl.com/mt/archives/000930.html)... it's nice to know there are people out sharing the Japan-friendly recipe love. (if you want a copy of the recipe without my crazy, distracting, and possibly superfulous comments, then go to this link for a clean, undisrupted copy of the recipe :)
A brief pre-cooking warning: This is going to be messy. Verrrrrrrry messy. Possibly more messy than your kitchen has every been before (with the exceptions, perhaps, of my mother... even though that whole cover-the-floor-with-flour thing was my fault, and I was probably old enough to know better... and Adam of the South... I'll repeat it again, you're way lucky to not have a bug problem ;) SO. By the end of this recipe, expect to have flour dusted half-way across the kitchen, splatters of dough everywhere, and your clothes a mess. Please dress accordingly.
First step: turn on the festive holiday 'tunes. Yes, do it now. I speak from experience. You will be incapable of it later. If you aren't in holiday music mood or you just love these cookies so much that you're making them in non-holiday season, then get out the hard rock music. It will make things interesting mid-recipe.
Next, gather together the following ingredients:
4 cups flour (plus an unexpected shitload more... have 4 more cups just to be safe)
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
4 full teaspoons chopped or grated fresh ginger (3+ inches of ginger root)
(optional: 1 teaspoon ground ginger)
250 grams butter (that's 8 oz for you non-metric folks)
4 small eggs
2 teaspoons honey
Ready? Okay! (don't throw your pom-poms at me yet. we haven't even started.)
Ooooo, you'll need one other thing too. A giant-ass bowl. Like, huge. At least twice the size of the one I used. Maybe big enough to fit two large heads of cabbage. Comfortably.
So, mix the flour (the 4 cups; hold the rest in reserve for later) in your gigantic bowl with the baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Using your sparkling clean hands (because I know you washed them before you started cooking. We're hygenic, aren't we?), rub in the butter.
[Now, I ~know~ that if anyone who reads this and actually tries it will probably just melt the butter in the microwave. It's easier, saves time, and is less messy. But I do believe there is a difference between melted and hand-mooshed butter.]
So rub the butter into the mixture until everything gets all crumbly. Then add the sugar and rub that in. Grate your ginger or cut it very finely. Beat the 4 eggs and add the ginger, eggs, and honey. Mix everything throughly with. your. hands!
[Now... I hope you turned on the festive tunes at the beginning if you wanted to. Do you see now why it's impossible mid-recipe?
For those of you who opted for the hard rock music at the beginning... this is the point at which you can make your meanest, snarling face, raise your hands our of the bowl of dough, and do a great impression of the Mud Creature from Scooby Doo. Really!... the sticky, dripping brown dough and everything... it's classic].
...added your 4 cups of flour? Okay. This is where your "unexpected shitload more" of flour comes in. You need to add enough flour so the dough is roll-able. What, it's sticking to your hands like you're the Mud Creature from Scooby Doo?! Well then... just keep adding flour ^^
... as you're adding endless amounts of flour... this is the point in the recipe where those brave enough to consume raw eggs (or those who just never grew up) can taste the dough. On the grand scale of cookie dough goodness, I'd give this a 4/5. I don't know if much can beat classic chocolate chip cookie dough, but this is less salty (so less of a gaggy aftertaste even after you've eaten too much) and the raw ginger gives it an extra-special zing. Try it, you'll like it ;)
Next... according to the recipe, once the dough is roll-able, you're supposed to roll it out on a surface that is first cleaned and then dusted with flour. The dough may then be cut into shapes. You could do that, I suppose. Or, if you're lazy like me (and don't have access to cookie-cutters anyway), you could roll bits of dough into a small balls (each 1-2 walnuts large) and smoosh them flat. Voila! ..you've just avoided a bigger mess and saved a bunch of time.
Put a bunch of these smooshed balls on a greased tray and bake them at 180 degrees C (that's ~350 degrees F) 15-20 mins.
And enjoy :) ...I'd recommend a nice glass of Hokkaido full-fat milk to accompany. Great for dipping.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Time Warp Back to August
I was digging through old computer files today and ran across an unpublished partial blog entry from August 9th, about 4 days after I arrived in Tsushima. It probably never got posted because it took awhile for the internet to get set up in my apartment. Most of the points made were discussed in later blog entries, but for posterity's sake, here it is, a retrospective look at my newly-newbie JET days:
This last week has been insanely busy—running around to orientation events in Tokyo for 3 days; spending nearly a full day to get to the island; and dashing about to fill out paperwork, set up accounts, and meet tons of people who will directly or tangentially be part of my life in Tsushima. It’s been exhausting.
Which is why I’m taking immeasurable pleasure today in completely loafing about. There are tons of places to explore in Kamitsushima, the hamlet-like section of Tsushima where I live, but my transportation options are rather limited at the moment. I don’t have a car yet (more on that later), the bike my predecessor left has a flat tire, and my apartment’s really set back from the main part of town. I wandered around a bit on foot a few days ago and came across an ancient Korean burial ground—if I read the sign correctly—near the end of my street. Tsushima is close enough to South Korea that the port of Busan can be seen on a clear day. My supervisor took me to a look-out point, complete with a Korean-style building, as a break from paperwork. It was a little foggy, but I could still make out the outlines of a few tall buildings across the water.
I’m enjoying getting acquainted with my apartment; it has some quirks that take getting used to. Before coming to Tsushima, I’d heard about the poisonous-but-not-deadly snakes, but my real enemy here is much more insidious and difficult to combat: mold. Because the island has such incredibly humidity, it is, perhaps, inevitable, but still a pain. Despite someone’s best efforts with de-humidifying products (mostly absorbent beads in a container designed to suck all of the water out of the air), a few of the walls are horribly moldy. I want to throw the doors open to air the place out, but that would only bring in more dastardly humid air. Mold’s also taken a hold on some things in the bathroom that I’ll have to deal with eventually—I’ve been trying to work up a little courage, it grosses me out too much at the moment—and, sadly, my hot-water appliance (a little larger than a blender, it keeps a supply of hot water ready for tea at any moment). This will also have to be dealt with at some point.
Of course, I’ve also met or learned of other island foes in the past few days, such as cockroaches (one was waiting for me on the outdoor wall of my apartment when I first arrived) and mukade, the nasty species of poisonous centipede. My supervisor also pointed out the driving dangers of deer, Tsushima mountain cat (indigenous to Tsushima and on the way to extinction with ~80 individuals remaining… apparently feline AIDS is running rampant through the population, and they aren’t expected to make a recovery), and wild boar. Last night as another ALT was driving me home from an all-island ALT get-together, we saw a group of maybe 8 baby boars scrambling up a hill next to the road. Totally adorable, but I wouldn’t want to meet their mother in the middle of the road.
-----
That's it. Man... I almost wish I had to worry about mold again (it's a spring/summer-only phenomenon). I guess the choice in Tsushima is "Mold or Cold." And as with most things, the grass is greener on the other side.
This last week has been insanely busy—running around to orientation events in Tokyo for 3 days; spending nearly a full day to get to the island; and dashing about to fill out paperwork, set up accounts, and meet tons of people who will directly or tangentially be part of my life in Tsushima. It’s been exhausting.
Which is why I’m taking immeasurable pleasure today in completely loafing about. There are tons of places to explore in Kamitsushima, the hamlet-like section of Tsushima where I live, but my transportation options are rather limited at the moment. I don’t have a car yet (more on that later), the bike my predecessor left has a flat tire, and my apartment’s really set back from the main part of town. I wandered around a bit on foot a few days ago and came across an ancient Korean burial ground—if I read the sign correctly—near the end of my street. Tsushima is close enough to South Korea that the port of Busan can be seen on a clear day. My supervisor took me to a look-out point, complete with a Korean-style building, as a break from paperwork. It was a little foggy, but I could still make out the outlines of a few tall buildings across the water.
I’m enjoying getting acquainted with my apartment; it has some quirks that take getting used to. Before coming to Tsushima, I’d heard about the poisonous-but-not-deadly snakes, but my real enemy here is much more insidious and difficult to combat: mold. Because the island has such incredibly humidity, it is, perhaps, inevitable, but still a pain. Despite someone’s best efforts with de-humidifying products (mostly absorbent beads in a container designed to suck all of the water out of the air), a few of the walls are horribly moldy. I want to throw the doors open to air the place out, but that would only bring in more dastardly humid air. Mold’s also taken a hold on some things in the bathroom that I’ll have to deal with eventually—I’ve been trying to work up a little courage, it grosses me out too much at the moment—and, sadly, my hot-water appliance (a little larger than a blender, it keeps a supply of hot water ready for tea at any moment). This will also have to be dealt with at some point.
Of course, I’ve also met or learned of other island foes in the past few days, such as cockroaches (one was waiting for me on the outdoor wall of my apartment when I first arrived) and mukade, the nasty species of poisonous centipede. My supervisor also pointed out the driving dangers of deer, Tsushima mountain cat (indigenous to Tsushima and on the way to extinction with ~80 individuals remaining… apparently feline AIDS is running rampant through the population, and they aren’t expected to make a recovery), and wild boar. Last night as another ALT was driving me home from an all-island ALT get-together, we saw a group of maybe 8 baby boars scrambling up a hill next to the road. Totally adorable, but I wouldn’t want to meet their mother in the middle of the road.
-----
That's it. Man... I almost wish I had to worry about mold again (it's a spring/summer-only phenomenon). I guess the choice in Tsushima is "Mold or Cold." And as with most things, the grass is greener on the other side.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
The Lead-up to Christmas
The holiday season is upon America, and the season for explaining holidays is upon me. Really, when you think about it, Christmas is kind of complex-- there's Santa, who really has no relation to the birth of Jesus Christ (a hold-over from Paganism, perhaps? .. but I don't remember any fat men in red suits from my Greek myths. He certainly doesn't show up nativity scenes.. maybe his book from the Bible was just lost somewhere. "The Gospel of God According to Santa." .. which would go something like "merry are they who bounce small children on their laps" and I'm sure would make the Bible even more idiosyncratic and misunderstood than it already is. But I digress.)
Anyway, it's hard enough to get my fellow teachers and students to understand what my idea of Christmas is like, a holiday my family has celebrated every year, much less about lesser-known holidays like Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Heck, I wasn't even entirely successful in explaining Judaism to one of my teachers today (as part of explaining that not all Americans are Christian and therefore not everyone celebrates Christmas... but some non-Christian, non-Christmas-celebrating Americans do celebrate other holidays in December).
I was, however, completely successful in letting everyone and their Vice-Principal know that Americans in general do not eat Christmas cake. If there's one thing that the Japanese do for Christmas, it's to eat Christmas cake. ..where they got the idea to decorate a fluffy sponge-like cake with fruu-fruu frosting topped with out-of-season strawberries next to a plastic Santa and maybe some reindeer, I'll never know. But most of my teachers think that that's what people do on Christmas. Thus my re-education process begins with the small and tangible. We ain't got no Christmas cake in America, guys. You made that up yourself.
It seems like the past week has been spent endlessly repeating the story of Christmas in a variety of comprehension levels (so far from 2nd grade through 9th grade), and I am starting to long for a bit of a Maine holiday... replete with bucketloads of snow, icicles precariously hanging from the eves, Christmas music playing ad nauseum on every single freakin' radio station, horrendously oversized and ugly lawn decorations, a live evergreen tree sprinkling its needles everywhere, and the cats drinking water from the tree's bottom and batting at bits of ribbon wrapped around the presents.
I think Tsushima took a little pity on me and offered up a rare sight-- the first and possibly only snowfall of the year, last Friday. According to some of my taxi drivers, it only snows in Tsushima about once every 2-4 years. I got lucky; the school I was at on Friday had a 'marathon' (different age levels ran different distances; the poor 9th grade boys had to run a 5K), so everyone was outside. I was part of the cheering squad and was waiting for the last of the 9th-grade boys to come by when the first flakes started to fall. I thought that might be it-- a few spits of snow-- but, to Tsushima's credit, there was actually a half-decent flurry for a few moments. No accumulation, of course (which probably would've caused an island-wide panic complete with mothers showing up at the school and demanding their children return home), and the snow-filled cloud soon passed over. There were other scattered flurries throughout the course of the day, though, which all made me very happy. The kids were so elated too-- at the end of the day during last period, it suddenly started flurrying relatively hard. I was standing at the back of the 9th-grader's class (during their end-of-the-day meeting) and made a surprised sound when I noticed through a crack in the curtains. Everyone looked at me, of course, and I guestured to the window. One of the 9th-grade boys stood up, a grin filling his face, and he dashed out onto the 2nd story verandah, leaned over the raining, and stuck his tongue out to try and catch a snowflake on it. The kids kind of went wild for a moment, but the homeroom teacher soon called everyone to order again. By the time they were let out of class, though, the snow had pretty much stopped again. It is strange for snow to be rare-- that same boy who dashed outside tried to explain that what I was seeing out the classroom window (flurries swirling around Tsushima's evergreen-covered mini-mountains) was a "vision." I wish I could import snow for them to get a real experience; I want all of my elementary kids to be able to make a snowman.
The snow picked up soon after school was out, and as soon as I got home I hopped on the bike to go to the beach. I wanted to work off some aggression from earlier in the day, and I wanted to see the beach in snow. It was lovely; all to myself, the water as blue as ever, the bonzai-like tree on a rock in the surf looking quite confused about the white stuff coming down from the sky. Heading out from my apartment on the bike, I ran into one of my neighbors coming home, and she rolled down her SUV window to say, "Be careful! It's cold!" ..I agreed but couldn't help but laughing later. Somehow snow makes it seem less cold and, anyway, there was no way I was going to stay indoors while such a miraculous thing happened outside. I needed to see the snow to swirl around me, feel it hit my face, melt into my sweatshirt (layered underneath with polypropaline, of course). It was such a beautiful, cleansing snow.
Also, I have decided that the best way of catching a snowflake on your tongue is from a bike. I should tell that 9th-grade boy the next time I see him.
Random bits of news from today:
--it was 11 degrees celsius in the hallway outside the teacher's room at today's school. I used an online metric converter, and that's about 51 degrees fareinheit. Really?! .. it feels so much colder...
--when I arrived at school today, the first thing on my daily schedule, third period, was "Training for taking refuge from intruder." This needed a little more explaining, and I found out that it was running through the school's drill for when a weapon-wielding stranger enters the school premises. Which, frankly, I think is amazing. The elementary school only has about 30 kids and, if you asked me, isn't at a very high risk of attack, but the teachers and staff are very serious about protecting them from every danger. The school had 3 police officers come in at a designated time (the teachers knew when but the kids didn't); one was dressed in dodgy clothing and was the 'intruder' while the other two were present to help direct the kids to the designated safe location. I believe everyone managed to get out without 'injury,' and then the principal and policemen then talked about safety in general and what to do if there is a weird stranger about or you think someone is trying to abduct you. (Both sited recent news stories from the Chiba and Tokyo areas, and there was a story awhile back about an elementary girl murdered near Fukuoka, so there is some credence to their fears).
I didn't understand at first-- jeez, we didn't do this in the states, and America has such a worse reputation for having problems in school with weapons-- but then I started to appreciate that despite Japan's reputation for safety, the policemen and schools are still anticipating the worst. Which, really, is the whole point of safety training. It's to be ready for that one-in-a-million chance. On top of last week's earthquake drill (like fire drills in the states except the kids were instructed to bring a textbook or other flat object to hold over their heads as protection from falling debris... which, frankly, was totally adorable), I think we'll be prepared.
Anyway, it's hard enough to get my fellow teachers and students to understand what my idea of Christmas is like, a holiday my family has celebrated every year, much less about lesser-known holidays like Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Heck, I wasn't even entirely successful in explaining Judaism to one of my teachers today (as part of explaining that not all Americans are Christian and therefore not everyone celebrates Christmas... but some non-Christian, non-Christmas-celebrating Americans do celebrate other holidays in December).
I was, however, completely successful in letting everyone and their Vice-Principal know that Americans in general do not eat Christmas cake. If there's one thing that the Japanese do for Christmas, it's to eat Christmas cake. ..where they got the idea to decorate a fluffy sponge-like cake with fruu-fruu frosting topped with out-of-season strawberries next to a plastic Santa and maybe some reindeer, I'll never know. But most of my teachers think that that's what people do on Christmas. Thus my re-education process begins with the small and tangible. We ain't got no Christmas cake in America, guys. You made that up yourself.
It seems like the past week has been spent endlessly repeating the story of Christmas in a variety of comprehension levels (so far from 2nd grade through 9th grade), and I am starting to long for a bit of a Maine holiday... replete with bucketloads of snow, icicles precariously hanging from the eves, Christmas music playing ad nauseum on every single freakin' radio station, horrendously oversized and ugly lawn decorations, a live evergreen tree sprinkling its needles everywhere, and the cats drinking water from the tree's bottom and batting at bits of ribbon wrapped around the presents.
I think Tsushima took a little pity on me and offered up a rare sight-- the first and possibly only snowfall of the year, last Friday. According to some of my taxi drivers, it only snows in Tsushima about once every 2-4 years. I got lucky; the school I was at on Friday had a 'marathon' (different age levels ran different distances; the poor 9th grade boys had to run a 5K), so everyone was outside. I was part of the cheering squad and was waiting for the last of the 9th-grade boys to come by when the first flakes started to fall. I thought that might be it-- a few spits of snow-- but, to Tsushima's credit, there was actually a half-decent flurry for a few moments. No accumulation, of course (which probably would've caused an island-wide panic complete with mothers showing up at the school and demanding their children return home), and the snow-filled cloud soon passed over. There were other scattered flurries throughout the course of the day, though, which all made me very happy. The kids were so elated too-- at the end of the day during last period, it suddenly started flurrying relatively hard. I was standing at the back of the 9th-grader's class (during their end-of-the-day meeting) and made a surprised sound when I noticed through a crack in the curtains. Everyone looked at me, of course, and I guestured to the window. One of the 9th-grade boys stood up, a grin filling his face, and he dashed out onto the 2nd story verandah, leaned over the raining, and stuck his tongue out to try and catch a snowflake on it. The kids kind of went wild for a moment, but the homeroom teacher soon called everyone to order again. By the time they were let out of class, though, the snow had pretty much stopped again. It is strange for snow to be rare-- that same boy who dashed outside tried to explain that what I was seeing out the classroom window (flurries swirling around Tsushima's evergreen-covered mini-mountains) was a "vision." I wish I could import snow for them to get a real experience; I want all of my elementary kids to be able to make a snowman.
The snow picked up soon after school was out, and as soon as I got home I hopped on the bike to go to the beach. I wanted to work off some aggression from earlier in the day, and I wanted to see the beach in snow. It was lovely; all to myself, the water as blue as ever, the bonzai-like tree on a rock in the surf looking quite confused about the white stuff coming down from the sky. Heading out from my apartment on the bike, I ran into one of my neighbors coming home, and she rolled down her SUV window to say, "Be careful! It's cold!" ..I agreed but couldn't help but laughing later. Somehow snow makes it seem less cold and, anyway, there was no way I was going to stay indoors while such a miraculous thing happened outside. I needed to see the snow to swirl around me, feel it hit my face, melt into my sweatshirt (layered underneath with polypropaline, of course). It was such a beautiful, cleansing snow.
Also, I have decided that the best way of catching a snowflake on your tongue is from a bike. I should tell that 9th-grade boy the next time I see him.
Random bits of news from today:
--it was 11 degrees celsius in the hallway outside the teacher's room at today's school. I used an online metric converter, and that's about 51 degrees fareinheit. Really?! .. it feels so much colder...
--when I arrived at school today, the first thing on my daily schedule, third period, was "Training for taking refuge from intruder." This needed a little more explaining, and I found out that it was running through the school's drill for when a weapon-wielding stranger enters the school premises. Which, frankly, I think is amazing. The elementary school only has about 30 kids and, if you asked me, isn't at a very high risk of attack, but the teachers and staff are very serious about protecting them from every danger. The school had 3 police officers come in at a designated time (the teachers knew when but the kids didn't); one was dressed in dodgy clothing and was the 'intruder' while the other two were present to help direct the kids to the designated safe location. I believe everyone managed to get out without 'injury,' and then the principal and policemen then talked about safety in general and what to do if there is a weird stranger about or you think someone is trying to abduct you. (Both sited recent news stories from the Chiba and Tokyo areas, and there was a story awhile back about an elementary girl murdered near Fukuoka, so there is some credence to their fears).
I didn't understand at first-- jeez, we didn't do this in the states, and America has such a worse reputation for having problems in school with weapons-- but then I started to appreciate that despite Japan's reputation for safety, the policemen and schools are still anticipating the worst. Which, really, is the whole point of safety training. It's to be ready for that one-in-a-million chance. On top of last week's earthquake drill (like fire drills in the states except the kids were instructed to bring a textbook or other flat object to hold over their heads as protection from falling debris... which, frankly, was totally adorable), I think we'll be prepared.
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