Japanese breakfast
how broiled mackerel helped me find my way home…
Sweet thick slices of bread toasted to perfection. Aromatic cup of coffee or tea. Fresh salad and fruit in season. Today, this is considered a typical breakfast in Japan and you can order this in just about any cafe as the proverbial “morning set”. My mother has certainly embraced this “western” style fare – instead of laboring over putting out traditional spreads of miso soup and rice with multiple small dishes. When I go back to Japan now, I have to specifically request rice for breakfast …
Sweet American Breakfast
When I moved to the U.S. in 1988 as a young adult, one of the biggest culture shocks for me was the sugar-laden American breakfast. Cereals, donuts, pastries, pancakes, even toasts, sweetened with sugar, maple syrup or jams. Accompanied by eggs, bacon or sausages, and drowned with coffee and a glass of orange juice or milk. I couldn’t help but visualize all of that food mixed in my stomach sloshing around…
Don’t get me wrong. After 30+ years in America, I must admit I enjoy fresh donuts or French toast now & then. All the more reason when I go back to Japan, I long to have a bowl of rice with miso soup, accompanied by pungent natto (fermented soy beans) with nori strips. Served with broiled fish with a side of pickled vegetables. Now that’s REAL food (at least to me)!
Rice vs. Toast
According to one marketing research survey on breakfast food, more than 56% of Japanese today have toast or bread-based breakfast, versus 32% of those who eat rice-based meal – and the trend is gaining in favor of toast or bread for younger generations. Not that rice is superior to bread, but I do believe in the health benefits of old-style Japanese breakfast.
For one, miso, natto and pickled vegetables all have one thing in common – they are all fermented food. Why is fermented food good for you? Because they contain live cultures – enzymes or probiotics – that help with digestion and absorption of nutrients. A study published in August, 2022 by Japanese scientists even found that the enzyme found in natto degrades SARS spike protein in coronavirus! They found, "Nattokinase (enzyme found in natto) and natto extracts have the potential to be developed as a new generation of drug for the prevention and treatment of COVID-19." Who knew??
We also have been hearing a lot about the health benefits of probiotics. They help improve your intestinal microbial flora (good bacteria in your gut) which in turn help boost immunity. Yes, your gut health is directly related to your immune function. A bowl of miso soup is a great source of probiotics as well as prebiotics, because miso contains live culture and seaweed or vegetables you put in miso soup provide “food” (prebiotic) for probiotics.
Natto Over Ice Cream
My husband always teased me (lovingly) about my blind faith in the health benefits of Japanese food. He thought once our daughters were old enough, they’d just favor the fat and sugar-laden American food… But that did not stop me from my attempt at indoctrinating my children with my fervent belief, even while living in California.
When Japanese groceries were not readily available, I would scour through Chinatown and Asian markets to look for similar ingredients. That’s how I found a Korean market I now frequent - probably over 20 years ago - that carry Japanese grocery food at cheaper prices than Japan Town in San Francisco (and I don’t have to make an extra trip across the bridge). I’ve seen this market evolve from a dingy place only Koreans would frequent to now a hub of a grocer attracting all kinds of people in the neighborhood.
I also took lessons in making Japanese confectionary such as mochi (sweet rice cake) and anko (bean paste) that are key components of traditional Japanese tea treats. It is worth noting that when you live in Japan, you don’t even think about making them yourself because they are available everywhere – even in convenient stores. So it was a “shock” for me to realize that I could make them at home, without any special equipment!
When our girls were young, I always carried a ziplock bag full of dried anchovies and nori strips I cut out of big sheets as emergency snack foods (yes, they double as cat or dog treats). When Sammi started going to a preschool, I noticed that she would not finish a sandwich, but a sushi roll would be polished up in her bento box. So, I became super efficient in assembling the ingredients in the morning to make and pack a sushi roll for her before going off to work myself.
When they got older, I made onigiri (rice balls covered in nori) and packed them in a bento box – trying to make it visually appealing and appetizing with a variety of colors and textures. Little did I know that they were feeling quite self-conscious about a lunch that looked very different from their friends’.
Now that I think back on it, by the time she was in high school, I do remember Sammi insisting that I put her lunch in a brown paper bag, instead of wrapping it in a Japanese mini-furoshiki. Furoshiki is a wrapping kerchief, a piece of square cloth that is reusable, and doubles as a napkin – Japan’s ancient (but apparently dying) sustainable practice. I re-purpose old silk scarves from the 80s/90s that nobody wears anymore as travel furoshiki. I wrap underwear and socks I don’t want to spill out should I ever need to open my suitcase in the middle of the airport (is that an unfounded fear!?). It compresses the clothes, keeps everything neat & tidy inside your suitcase, and I can use the furoshiki to line the inside of the drawer at hotels (because who knows what other people put in it…!). I love things that serve many purposes – please don’t let furoshiki die out!
Well, it seemed wasteful to me at the time, but I could tell it was important to a teenager. So what’s a mother to do? I bought a pack of 100 brown bags – I still have a few more dozens left in my pantry…
After all my efforts, a definitive moment came when Audrey was whining about wanting some ice cream at a random time of the day. I said, “How about natto??” – and lo and behold, she immediately stopped crying. Scott accepted defeat right there and then (hah!). Now fully into adulting, when our daughters come home, they always request a Japanese breakfast – in fact, now ask how to make it themselves. It’s music to my ear. And yes, my victory (or indoctrination) is complete!
How to Make a Smart Brain
When my mother was pregnant, she told me she ate broiled mackerel (or sardine) everyday, willing for me to grow up smart. I was truly grateful for her loving thoughts, but always wondered - HOW did she know? How could she have known that mackerel packs the highest amount of omega-3 fatty acid, which is essential for the development of brain cells in a baby?! I don’t think that kind of information was available (or was it??) to average people in the 1960s – without the internet or Google??
What’s that saying… “Your mother is always right”?? So this is a story my mother loves to retell over and over again. She thinks it *proves* that her plan worked – to gift me with this “smart brain”…
Photo credit: Samantha Armacost
Finding My Way Home
I was born in the north eastern part of Tokyo in the town of Tabata (田端). I learned to walk very early. Apparently by the time I was one, I was already running – my mother always said this with a hint of exasperation in her voice. A few months before I turned two, my family moved to Takasago (高砂), almost on the border of Tokyo and Chiba prefectures.
My father worked for a toy company called Tomy which made miniature cars like HotWheels (which made me quite popular with boys in elementary school). He decided to move our family to the company’s single men’s dormitory so my mother could work as the dorm’s “Mama-san” to supplement his income.
The “incident” happened only about a month or two after we had moved to this dorm. Every time we went grocery shopping, my mother would hoist me up in the baby seat in front of her bicycle, and cross a busy street to get to some mom & pop shops. She was picking up groceries to feed the 13 dorm residents. She said there was no fridge back then, so she must have gone there multiple times a week.
I remember there was a dagashiya (駄菓子屋 cheap snacks & candy store) and my mother would give me 10 or 20 yen (equivalent of a nickel - 5 cent - back then) so I could pick up a treat. I usually picked sour dried apricots on a bamboo skewer. Happy with my treat, I would head to the playground nearby.
I LOVED to swing more than anything in the world (still do…) for the thrill of speed and a sensation of flying. On this particular day, my mother told me to stay on the swing in the playground while she just went over to pick up a few things from the shops nearby. She made me promise to stay put on the swing – by wrapping her pinky finger around mine and singing what we all sing when we make a promise, “Yubikiri Genman (ゆびきりげんまん)":
ゆびきりげんまん (Pinky swear)
嘘ついたら (If you lie…)
針千本飲ます (I’ll make you swallow 1,000 needles)
指切った！(Cutting pinky fingers now!)
[I’d never really thought about the lyrics, but translated into English, that sounds pretty frightening!!]
Well, I was barely two, remember? So I forgot about the promise. I decided to leave because I was all done with swinging.
By the time my mother returned to the swing, I was nowhere in sight. She still describes the horror and fear she felt as if it happened yesterday. She went to koban (交番), a ubiquitous police box you can count on near every train station in Japan, asking the police officer to help her look for the child she’d lost. The shop owners who all knew me also helped look everywhere. But they could not find me.
The police officer assured my mother that they would continue the search but suggested that she go home and wait for them to contact her.
My mother always worried a lot, but true to her northern Japanese (東北｜とうほく) temperament, she was stoic, and rarely showed her emotion on the outside. Still, she was despondent. Trusting the police officer’s assuring words, she resigned herself, and headed home.
As she approached the company dorm, she saw a little child squatting on the river bank picking dandelion flowers. She rushed over, collapsed next to me and balled her eyes out (which she’d probably never done before). I wasn’t crying or sad – and was rather clueless why she was so upset. To this day, she wonders out loud how in the world I could have figured out the way home, remembering all the turns, AND crossing a very busy street …
"Why Don't You Cry??"
On another occasion, I walked off (again) in a large department store in the busy town of Ueno in Tokyo. Once more, my mother was frantic – and when she found me, she scolded me harshly, and asked WHY I would not cry. She argued that if I cried, other adults would notice and help look for my parents… but I was that child who just didn’t cry.
My mother said that’s when it dawned on her that this child was exceptionally smart. She was then thoroughly convinced it’s all the mackerel she ate – a belief she holds firmly to this day. But in Japan, everybody knows this is my mother being 「親バカ(おやばか)」 - a silly proud parent with a definite bias. The only sad part of the story is that now my mother cannot even stand the smell of mackerel or sardine on the grill… her body simply rejects it…
In deep gratitude to my mother for her sacrificial love, I now embrace & enjoy the fluffiest Japanese doorstep* bread toasted for breakfast at her house. In fact, that’s what our family looks forward to when visiting Obaachan (おばあちゃん) in Japan – a rare treat for all of us!
*I love this word I learned from my beloved Kiwi flatmate when I lived in New Zealand – the most descriptive word for a thick slice of bread.
Photo credit: Audrey Armacost
