You’re better off using it for explosions…

Here in the People’s Republic of Food, salt is frowned upon.  For a while, the Gastronomic Gestapo enforced its less-salt policy by moving the salt shaker to the other side of the table if I reached for it, but that doesn’t work on college students.  In recent days, the regime have moved from autocracy to shame-based enforcement: exclamations of dismay when someone salts their food, glares, that sort of thing.  When I pull a container of miso out of the fridge, or get the soy sauce from the

Sodium in water. Kablooie!

cabinet, I am inevitably reminded that it contains sodium.

This, while irritating, is not, of course, wholly unfounded.  It’s even irritating enough to drive me to react, not by argument, but by surreptitiously toning down the salting.  If the Gastronomic Gestapo ever noticed I would die of shame.

The best way to do this, I find, is hot sauce.  There’s that old standby, sriracha, but I’ve never liked the vinegary flavour.  Sambal oelek is a good choice for other vinegar-haters: it’s pretty much just coarsely ground red chilies with minimal preservatives.  I put a tablespoon or three in everything from lentil soup to noodles.  My father says he gets capsaicin burns just watching.  Mae Ploy is good for those who like something more sweet than spicy, but some might not want the sugar.  It’s excellent on potstickers of every variety and makes a good chicken or pork marinade for lazy people.  You could even put a jar of chili or curry powder on the table.  It’s good for salads, rice, or anything else that you would otherwise be inclined to salt.

It also puts you a step ahead in the Sampling Wars.  I’m something of a culinary masochist, so my hot sauce habit has the added advantage of rendering my food unpalatable to my family, particularly my father, who is a born plate raider.

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Tamagoyaki

Tamagoyaki, or, square yellow eggy stuffI have a bad habit of hanging around the counter at sushi restaurants, creepily watching the chef work his magic.  I don’t usually say anything, but every so often I remember that it’s less creepy to hang around watching people do their jobs if you make a bit of polite conversation.  In pursuance of which, “What the heck is that square yellow stuff?”  I ask one day.  The sushi chef gives me a funny look.  “Egg.”

Egg.  Of course.  I should have guessed.

Square yellow eggy stuff, it turns out, is called tamagoyaki (fried egg) by those in the know.  In the US, it is usually seen cold as part of nigiri sushi, on top of a hunk of rice and secured with a strip of nori, but my Dex stat isn’t high enough to make nigiri, so I’m not going to talk about that.  In Japan it is often served hot, as a sort of simple omelet.  It’s great cold as a bento box staple: I’ll make a huge one on Monday when I’m working at the sailing camp in the summer and eat it all week.  Despite its somewhat daunting appearance, it is actually relatively simple to make, and exceptionally tasty.

Ingredients:

  • 4 Eggs
  • 2 tbsp soy sauce
  • 1 tbsp mirin
  • 1 tbsp sugar
  • cooking spray

Scramble everything (well, okay, not the cooking spray) together with a fork until the colour is uniform.  Liberally coat your frying pan in cooking spray.  Traditionally a square pan is used for this, but most of us don’t have square pans, so don’t worry about it.

Send everyone else out of the kitchen.  This is impossible to do in the presence of others, particularly overly-curious housewives.  Pour a very thin layer of egg into the pan.  As soon as it begins to set, roll it up from one side with a spatula or a pair of chopsticks.  Pour in a second layer.  Roll the first layer back across the new one.  Continue this process until you’ve used up all your eggs.

Turn the blob out onto a sushi mat.  The first few times it will be a blob, but with practice you’ll be able to roll out flawless tamagoyaki in minutes.  Squish it until it’s vaguely rectangular, slice it up, and serve.  If you aren’t going to eat it right away, leave it to cool in the sushi mat before refrigerating it.

I don’t know what the traditional condiments for this are, or if there are any, but I like it with gari and ponzu sauce.