Wakasa Agate Carving

Impressive but hard to look at, right? Many, many,many, 
thanks to the Met's art gallery for the originals I used in this composite. 
And the inventor of MS Paint. (None of the above artifacts are Japanese, by the way.)

In the dynamic, image above, note the two kanji. These make up the word menō, the Japanese word for agate. For those who can't make heads or tails of them and/or don't want to be bothered heading to a translating site to get a copy, here they are in print: 瑪瑙. 

From sight, I'd say the first one means "king trying to catch his horse", and the second one means "king waiting to flip three burgers on the grill". As I am such a kanji expert, I feel fully justified putting this interpretation forward for further review. ;)

And now a transition paragraph into the subject proper:

In spite of the fact that it doesn't get anywhere near as much publicity as, say, Sri Lanka or Brazil's gem industries, Japan does, in fact, have a toe/foot in the gem world: agates.

Sort of a surprise, right? You never hear about Japan being a source of luxury grade rocks. But yeah, in Fukui Prefecture (or Fukui-ken, kanji like so:  福井県) they've been mining agate and crafting things from the stuff for like two-ish centuries. (The origins may or may not be somewhere in the first 50 years of the 1700s). It's even got official 'traditional craft' status, as of 1976 (or Shōwa 51, for the era inclined.) So you know it's worth reading about, right? ;)

For those who missed this map in my
last post I used in it (whichever 
one it was...) -- voila! Map.

The official name for the ages old tradition of agate carving, unless I've grossly missed the mark, is 若狭めのう細工 -- all that is pronounced "wakasa menō zaiku". (Yeah, the site where I found this phrase used hiragana for menō... I've read that kanji can seem a bit 'heavy', like academic, so my guess is they wanted to look a little more visually accessible. Either that or it's just the normal way to spell it.) It means Wakasa agate work/workmanship. Why not "Fukui-ken menō zaiku"? 

Well, I found that Wakasa is the name for a coastal type province that today is but a part of southern Fukui Prefecture. For a while, it was an international trade stop, and whose importance wasn't to be sneezed at. It  was a source of seafood for the imperial court -- it came to be referred to as miketsukuni (or a miketsukuni province, not entirely sure which), whose kanji, I think, are this: 御食国. The first kanji, I wanna say, is an honorific one, the second one's "food" and third one's "country". Nowadays, this ex-province is called (the) Wakasa region. Um, so, I guess since the industry started in the province, that's what they went with...

But this isn't exactly the end of the agate nomenclature confusion. (At least, I've been confused.) We've got some more specificity to get through. See, there're websites -- including Japan's official tourist site -- that make a point of emphasizing a certain city's connection to this great agate tradition above all others in the region. Can you guess which city? (A hint: politics.)

This city, which was located 'round abouts smack dab-ish in the middle of the Wakasa region, holds the name of the seemingly improbable name of Obama. (Didja get it?) Nothing to do with our previous head of state, the kanji are: 小浜, which mean "small" and "shore".  (You might also see the kanji for "city" added to the end. I've seen this with other cities. Dunno what the nuance/nuances is/are.) 

Now about the agate itself. One source described the deposit(s?) most common color as red. In the pictures I've seen so far, you get a lot of intense red-orange and orange coloration, plus a range of paler versions. And of course, because it's agate, these colors can come in layers of stripes, sometimes in rectangle-y shapes. A few pieces I saw had definitely got some translucency going on. Sort of like the picture below with all the circles that look like a pudgy bee, but not, as this one's Minoan. (Again many thanks to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Seriously, if you want awesome -- and public domain photos, at that -- check out their site.) But I also saw at least one giant chunk of agate in process that was more gray than anything else. But I know the secret behind this discrepancy! 

They get agates all nice and vivid by heat treating them (this is also traditional, by the way). Which, if you're looking for the purity of rocks that were just shined up a bit, might feel like a bit of a let down, but still, you gotta admit, they're pretty eye-catching afterwards. 

Anyways, to get 'em all shaped, one tool I saw used in more than one video is the sand and water slurry and a grinding wheel. Beyond that, the secrets of the agate masters carving techniques remains a mystery to me -- for now.

Here, look at this video, which, for all I know, explains things better than I do (It's a little muffled, you might have to turn the volume up):

 Then there's this one video where I saw this one guy use a grinding wheel to polish a magatama he was making, though he wasn't in Wakasa. (A magatama is a bead with all kinds of cultural context. Some are basically like one half a yin-yang symbol. Others are like a cross between that and a macaroni noodle.) See, I'll put it here:

Speaking of videos, there're also a few that show kids doing stuff to agates, one had them etching with razors, while another had them rubbing agates with sand paper. (Shaping them? Polishing them?). Both were at the Miketsukuni Wakasa Obama Food Culture Museum (kanji (and hiragana) thusly: 御食国若狭おばま食文化館. Not entirely sure how to pronounce all of it, and I'm not even gonna try.) It's right across from Obama castle (no presidents involved there either) -- and a tax collector's, and a courthouse for family cases. Hm... Is that terrible or brilliant planning?

References:

Agate -- it's not just a type-o! (See cuz, agate/a gate... Look, I knew what I meant!)

Kawagoe City: Obama City, Fukui Prefecture

Fukui Prefecture: 福井県観光地等の多言語表記ガイドライン（対訳表）

Wakasa Obama Tourism Association Site: Wakasa Agate

伝統工芸 青山スクエア: 若狭めのう細工

OBAMA City Website | English Page: Our town Obama

Kyoto National Museum: Past Exhibitions Illustrated Handscrolls and Wakasa Province September 13, 2016 - October 2, 2016

Japan Heritage: Wakasa Province: A Cultural Heritage Linking the Seat to the ancient Capital: Miketsukuni and Saba-kaido Road: Cultural heritages linking the Japan Sea to Nara and Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan

As my lazy Japanese skills don't allow me to read things that are more complicated than "Kenji is seven years old. He likes cake." I don't know how much information I'm leaving out. This really applies to a significant portion of these references, but here's two I thought I'd point out, to those learning the language. So, yeah. Cheers!


Number one:

若狭工房： 小浜の伝統工芸: 若狭塗－国指定伝統的工芸品（昭和５３年指定）－

And number two:
御食国若狭おばま食文化館: ご利用案内

Oh, and here's where I got the Shōwa date. (He's got era names and dates too, and the transliterations and the kanji. And it's an ac.jp site, which means it's academic and therefore official. Which makes this author happy.) 

Michael Geoffrey Watson マイケル・ジェフリー・ワトソン: Meiji -- Taisho -- Showa -- Heisei

Hagi no Tsuki

Hey, I'm super early this time... So without further ado, the article.

On the left, a cross section, on the right, a hagi no tsuki in its unaltered wholeness.
(I sincerely hope that this (and the post for that matter)
doesn't get me sued. (Don't worry, I'l explain).

To the untrained ear, hagi no tsuki may sound like a person with a mouthful of saltwater taffy trying to express that they are in possession of a pig that refuses to come when called. (Some imagination and/or sleep deprivation may be required for full comprehension).** In truth though, it involves neither pigs nor nutrition-less nuggets of (delicious) varieties of sugar and (a surprising number of) chemicals.

Though my eye-catching picture above (and my current trend in posts) is undoubtedly a big tip off, I'm still gonna try and create build up in explaining this mysterious object known as hagi no tsuki is. (Whoo, word count of thirty-six! Yeah! Ahem.)

First try looking at the name, which may provide you with a very vague nudge in the right direction. (It didn't for me, though it probably should have). Hagi no tsuki is "bush clover moon". The kanji (plus one hirigana) are thus: 萩の月. Japanese learners among us many notice the kanji for bushclover/hagi is the kanji for autumn/fall with a little fence up top. (This little fence, from what I understand -- don't ask me where I read this, cuz I don't remember -- tells you that you're dealing with a plant. Neat, huh?) So we've got bush clover (Lespedeza bicolor -- L. bicolor for us lazy types), a symbol of autumn in both name and tradition. And we have the moon. Got your answer? Okay, here we go!

Took me forever to find a moon
pic for this post, and I'm not exactly
sure what the ax-wielding man is doing. Ringing its
doorbell? I dunno.
But hey, the moon looks like hagi no
tsuki, right? So mission successful!

It's a cake!  And not just any cake -- it looks like it's the specific product of a Sendai-based company called Kasho Sanzen. (Hence the caption in my lovely MS Paint work at the top here.) See, they tend to be pale yellow, slightly flattened domes of castella (or カステラ -- it's a type of sponge cake with apparently something of a steamed texture) filled with incredibly solid-looking custard cream filling of a darker yellow. (You know, like my incredibly life-like MS Paint masterpiece above). So hagi no tsuki are cakes shaped like the harvest moon. (To those who were already thinking harvest moon, I give you props!)

Whether naturally or through the dedicated efforts of various tourist boards, hagi no tsuki is a product connected with the Tōhoku region (aka just Tōhoku or 東北 aka the northern area of Honshū or 本州). Specifically and famously, with Miyagi Prefecture 宮城県. Is there any causal relationship that would help define a logical follow through to this seeming discontinuity? Well, Miyagi Prefecture's official flower is the bush clover's flower so, it makes sense.

The darker green area is Tōhoku. Yep.

(Here's a little side trip into a moment that kinda surprised me, even though I guess it probably shouldn't have, come to think of it. (Still, it was a sudden turn after only getting pages about the cake's description.) One source I found is in the Japanese government's Public Relations Office's website. It talked about the March 11, 2011 disaster and the Japanese economy, and what people where doing to be proactive. Included in this article were hagi no tsuki. (See what I mean about sudden turns?)

Specifically, it talked about the fact that Kasho Sanzen's production was totally destroyed, and they started selling their inventory a few days after the disaster happened. 

The article also mentioned that one time, huge department store, Shinjuku Takashimaya, once had a five day fair that went from April 20th to the 25th, selling Miyagi Prefecture goods -- including hagi no tsuki. 

Sometimes you never know what you're gonna find. Okay, side trip finished.)

It must be said though, while like 99 percent of the (small number) of pictures I've found of this cake have the what looks like some variant of vanilla pudding -- meanwhile in this post from the blog Sweet Travel, it's chocolate... and the cake type itself looks darker and heavier. Can't complain, mind, 'cause if there's anything I like it's a dessert with chocolate in it. (The same post also said that hagi no tsuki are made with Twinkie technology. It must be said that at least in terms of appearance, Twinkies and hagi no tsuki do look sorta like they're first cousins or something).

As for size, here's a v-log review by a food vlogger I only discovered when doing research for this post. (She's apparently quite popular: when I came across her hagi no tsuki video she had 2,878,049 followers). As per usual, I can't tell a lot of what she's saying but you'll get a good look at a hagi no tsuki:

References:
**Hoggy no suey. Oh, and if you're ever in the Sendai airport, they sell hagi no tsuki there, from what I (hope I) understand. Costs 1200 yen, but I dunno how many you get.

The Free Dictionary: Bush Clover

Government of Japan Public Relations Office: Highlighting Japan: COVER STORY: The Road to Recovery

Miyagi Touring Navigation: Shopping

Sendai International Airport: General Store Hagi (Confectionary Specialty Department)

University of Wisconsin Oshkosh: David Barnhill: Major Nature Images in Basho's Hokku

"Dawn to the West: Japanese Literature of the Modern Era"; Donald Keene; 1999

The Free Dictionary: Encyclopedia: Bush Clover

University of Virginia Library Etext Center: Japanese Text Initiative: Japanese Haiku: Brief Entries: aki, Autumn

Image Reference:
Picture of the awestruck lumberjack provided by Yale University Art Gallery:

Yale University Art Gallery: Cassia tree moon - Wu Gang : # 26 of One Hundred Aspects of the Moon

Hakutō Zerī and White Peaches

And the Japanese word for peach is -- momo! And I make tolerably
good-looking stylized peaches, if I do say so myself. 

Tadaaaa! I'm early this time! I'm even sort of seasonal again! How's this? Well, March is a month associated with peach blossoms -- and therefore the topics of this post is a good, seasonally relevant one to talk about!

So, as you know, people put peaches/peach flavoring  in practically every type of dessert or drink known to man, from pie, yogurt, ice cream, candy, sweet tea, soda pop, juice drinks, scones and cakes/quick breads to more healthy options such as fruit salads (probably, though I've never seen it myself) and smoothies. (Congratulations, you made it to the end of the list!) They even put it in salsa, which is more or less where I draw the peach appreciation line, myself.

Meanwhile in Japan (muwahahaha! ahem), among the various varieties and options of peach themed comestibles, there's also a summer dessert called 白桃ゼリー or hakutō zerī. Which in English means (so far as I understand it) "white peach jelly".

The Background: White Peaches

Peaches: also in white. 

You, like me, probably don't connect peaches with Japan. At all. In fact, if you've been looking around at Japan, one of those things you probably have heard (or will hear soon enough) about Japan is that fresh fruit costs. And that, in fact, having fresh fruit requires a certain level of income to acquire regularly, perhaps about what a well-cornered stock market would get you.

The truth of the matter is, it's not just Hokkaido that's known for its produce! There are whole prefectures known for growing produce. One such prefecture is Okayama Prefecture (kanji as so: 岡山県), the "Land of Sunshine" which is known for peaches and grapes -- it's the prefecture where half of Japan's peaches are grown. (Kinda seems like a cross between Georgia and Florida).

Brought to you by countless dedicated cartographers
and Wikipedia (checked with Google Maps).
Label, arrow and background art by me and MS Paint.

In particular, to sorta kinda be precise, Okayama Prefecture is known for the hakutō or white peach (They're not white really, from the pics I've seen -- they're more a pale yellow, with some red blush). From what it looks like, hakutō is a term for any type of Japanese white peach grown in Okayama (though I bet people use it in general too.)

The very first type of hakutō came from Chinese immigrant peaches, brought over during the Meiji period -- apparently, the Chinese cling (or Shanhai Suimitsu). Some of the different types I've come across in my internet agricultural travels include the shimizu hakutō, Okayama yume hakutō (hmm, the "Okayama dream white peach"),the sakigake hakutō. The shimisu hakuō is the most well-known.

...And, uh, well that's all I have to say about that for now. ;)

Hakutō Zerī
But it's not just the various races of peach that we're talkin' 'bout t'day. (Apostrophes -- now for all your phonetically expressed dialectical inflection needs!) No, today the ultimate point of the article is this: hakutō jelly -- aka white peach jello. To introduce you to how a commercial hakutō zerī looks, here's an ad spot/micro tour for a company that makes hakutō zerī with the shimizu hakutō:

This URL has a recipe in Japanese for ... pickled(?)  hakutō zerī. With the mixed blessing that is Google Translate as my aid (again), it looks like the directions say to make a syrup with chopped white peaches, water and sugar (plus some lemon). After that there's some directions involving something that seems kinda like gelatin, but isn't quite : ゼリーの素 -- I think it might be jello mix. (If it is jello mix, it seems a bit of a cheat, but I suppose it adds flavor, like adding onion powder to chili with onions already in it). I assume some kind of acid is involved to to the fact "pickled" aspect of it...

Anyway, the uploader in the videos below (don't worry, they're super short) uses this method:

And part two:

Looks like he could have benefited from a pinch of agar or the like, but I bet it tasted pretty good all the same.

Meanwhile, this book has a recipe in English what seems like it's pretty much hakutō zerī, and it's similar to the above recipe, though it uses certain other ingredients, and doesn't use prepackaged jello. (If you can't find it in the preview (Google Books is like that sometimes), try a different browser, that works for me.)

Much as I'd like to have been able to write about the history and cultural use of this dessert, it just sort of seems to... be. I haven't found anything about it's origin or rise in popularity 'n all that... Ah well, here's to diversity!

An Extraneous Video I Looked At
A lot of videos that came up on YouTube for hakutō zerī  were unboxing/tasting type videos. The video you're gonna come across in a few sentences is one of 'em.  It's a bit slow paced/quiet (it's like he's doing an ASMR video or something), here's this un-boxing of an undeniably very fancily wrapped hakutō (Like the last video, don't know what all he's sayin', so just an fyi to all you speakers and learners of the language):

So anyway, all in all, white peach jelly probably isn't really considered particularly that different and/or special from yellow peach jelly. Um, well, to wrap things up I guess I'll finish with one last fact on peaches which says that for a while white peaches were the peach of choice in Japan, not yellow, but that's been changing. (I have no official time line of this, you'll just have to trust my vague assertations). See y'all later!


References:
"The peach and the poet know/Under the chill the glow,/And the token of golden days!" -- Bayard Taylor from Peach Blossom (Hooray for search engines!)

Okayama Prefecture Web Site: モモの新品種 ‘さきがけはくとう’ 日原 誠介・藤井 雄一郎・笹邊 幸男* A New Peach Cultivar ʻSakigake hakutoʼ Seisuke Hihara, Yuichiro Fujii and Yukio Sasabe

J-Stage: "White Peach in Okayama prefecture, Distinctive development and the endeavors for the best quality"; Yuichiro Fuji

"Shunju: New Japanese Cuisine;" Takashi Sugimoto, Marcia Iwatate; 2002

"The Peach: Botany, Production and Uses": Desmone R. Layne, Daniele Bassi (editors); 2008

Okayama University: Okayama Travelogue: Okayama Hakuto-the sweet and fragrant peach grown in ‘Land of Sunshine’

Yubeshi

A famous food in Ishikawa Prefecture's Noto Peninsula as well as the Tōhoku region, and looking like trail food,  here's today's topic: yubeshi or 柚餅子 --  that's "yuzu", "mochi" and "child", respectively. Two of -- well I guess all three really, though the third's a bit of a stretch -- these kanji give massive hints about what yubeshi is. 

For geographical-ness though here's some pictures of Ishikawa Prefecture and the Tōhoku region.

The dark part's the Tōhoku
region. From Wikimedia (again, checked
by the internet).

Looks kinda like a sock puppet dunnit?
At least part of the stick-y out-y
bit's the Noto Peninsula.
(From Wikimedia, checked by the internet).

So anyways, when you see a picture of yubeshi served up, your first impression may very well be that it began life as a (hopeful) attempt at vegan jerky. But it's not! It's a(n) (obviously) yuzu flavored rice and/or miso dumpling that takes a good while to prepare, and it can have other stuff too, depending on the recipe. 

As for culture... Hmm, it's a cold-weather food associated with rural areas. (Lemme tell you, it just looks like something created for enduring hard times -- but I like lemony things, so for all I know I'd like it). It's also popular at New Years. 

With a sharp sudden turn in focus, and without out further ado, let's begin what's basically the second intro, the Yuzu Aside! (Which you can skip, and probably will, if you're just in it for the yubeshi).

Yuzu Aside

For those who previously were completely ignorant of the yuzu's existence and to round out our knowledge of the yubeshi, let's take a moment to consider the yuzu or 柚子 (though I've seen it just as 柚. If there's a nuance, no place I've read (that I could understand okay) has mentioned it.)

Botanists, and other science types probably, have been known to call this fruit Citrus junos. Like limes and lemons and such, yuzu are used in cooking -- for one thing, it's the fruit ponzu makers put in their ponzu -- unless it's a company that doesn't want to use something that's probably more expensive or has tariffs or something... they use lemon, from what I understand, which I think is basically what people who can't get yuzu use anyway. 

Pic of a yuzu I nabbed from the Wikipedia. (It had a
 mandarin too, but I edited it out. The shadow's on it's right is from
the mandarin). Seems to match the other pics I've seen -- a yellow
orange that looks like it's been left in the fruit bowl a bit too long.

Types

Getting back to yubeshi, it would appear that there're several types (or more... and not everyone says they're are types. *Shrugs* One book I found says two is the number, so for now we'll go with that. I mean, it's from 1976 and is a little confusing, but it's the most comprehensive definition I've got right now that I can read without guessing every other word.)

One type has a miso mix. You can use it as a party snack-y type thing (aka hors d'oeuvres -- or appetizer, if you're at a restaurant)  as a topper for foods, sliced.

The other type is composed of a mochi mix (looks like soy sauce, a sweet syrup (dunno which type) or at least some type of sweetener and glutinous rice). It's is supposed to be spicy and sweet but not super strong tasting. You use it as a snack/hors doeuvre/appetizer or as a candy.

Walnut yubeshi -- which is yubeshi with walnuts in -- seems to be a thing. Here's a (Japanese language) recipe video (I don't know what the song is about, but it sounds exciting. Oh, and walnut in Japanese is kurumi, and if you want to spell it in kanji, this is it: 胡桃).

Procedure

The general procedure for making them is this: either you cut your yuzus either in half or just part of the top end (got a bit of contradiction there) --  then you can scoop out the innards. (You know in Belize, they make jack o'lanterns out of grapefruits as a Día de los Muertos decoration. True story.) Once they're hollowed out, fill 'em with your yubeshi mix, apply steam and hang your filled yuzu molds up in a tree to dry. (Or, in the case of the videos I'm going to introduce below, in a commercial drier). This will take a good while -- but once their done, pop 'em out of their rinds like those little red cheeses in the dairy section and voila! A nice crop of yubeshi, ready to be sliced up thin and served. 

The point of using yuzu is so that the mix gets that yuzu taste... I haven't looked at people's personal recipes much, but I found a quick version for Yubeshi in Google Books where you just grate yuzu peel straight into your mix and put your yubeshi your fridge to chill for a few days.

Explanatory-ish Videos

Here's  video (part 1 of 2) that I don't understand. But it's got a dramatic-y cinematic Jurassic Park meets Hallmark/Disney Channel type feel, which might be enough to help carry you along to the end. (It's a yubeshi/yuzu growing tourist place promotional video, from what I do understand).

And because sometimes I'm filled with civic mindedness, below this sentence you will find part two. ;) 

Post-Script PSA

Oh, and just an FYI: do not search for yubeshi on the Amazon site for English speakers. Strange as it may sound, when I did that, there was nothing on the rice cake stuffed into a fruit rind and steamed then dried. 

No, what I did find was anime posters. Lots and lots of (somewhat suggestive) anime posters -- at least some of which were for an anime called Yubeshi (so props to the Amazon search box for accuracy). I gave up after several pages, and instead (after failing to find much on Google Shopping) went to the Japanese Amazon, where I struck some pay-dirt -- actual yubeshi products! Okay, this is starting to sound like an ad for Amazon, so I'd better stop. 

Ta!

References:

Hooray for search engines and the internet! 

"Food and Fantasy in Early Modern Japan; Eric Rath; 2010

"The Illustrated Cook's Book of Ingredients"; 2010

"The Book of Miso"; William Shurtleff, Akiko Aoyagi"; 1976

"A Dictionary of Japanese Food: Ingredients & Culture"; Richard Hosking; 1995

"和英：日本の文化・観光・歴史辞典" ("A Japanese-English Dictionary of Culture, Tourism and History of Japan"); 山口百々男, Steven Bates; 2014

"Chado: The Way of Tea"; Sanmi Sasaki, (translated by ‎Shaun McCabe, ‎Satoko Iwasaki); 2002    This one doesn't actually let you see the book, but if you scroll down the page to the "Other Editions" section, you get a limited preview of the 1997 version... which won't let me see anything on yubeshi. Yeah, it's a little convoluted. Oh wells, I tried!

Kusamochi

Today is the fourth day (my time) of the Chinese (lunar) new year, a period of festivites lasting two weeks and one day. Therefore, I suppose it would be fitting and in the moment to write about, oh, say, kagami mochi, shiruko, hastumode, kadomatsu or ozōni/osechi ryori -- or even all of them at once, plus all the other interesting Japanese New Year's traditions. Which I kind of just have, so there we go, obligatory New Year's blogging completed. You can all go home now -- go on, shoo. Go 'way now, I means it!




Just kidding!

Thoday' topic is kusa mochi(space optional), aka 草餅, which people also call yomogi mochi, aka 蓬餅. You may notice that the second kanji for both words is mochi. The first kanji of kusa mochi though, means grass, and the first kanji of the second word is mugwort. You can basically see where this is all going/has already ended up, right? Mochi flavored (and colored green) with mugwort (though it doesn't strictly have to be mugwort -- more on that in a bit). Sounds tasty, dunnit? 


Yeah, to me it still sounds like a health food -- but since I've got exactly zero experience with mugwort as a flavor, even though it sounds  kinda meh, it might be good for all I know. So don't let my confidence and authoritative position as a producer of fine and timeless information products influence you in the least -- and if you've tried it, don't hesitate to say. (Yeah, I am getting this social media guru thing down, for sho'!)

First, a brief aside about mochi, which I suppose I ought to have put earlier on in this post but didn't. (Those with intermediate mochi knowledge will understandably and undoubtedly skip the next paragraph. And the one right below it). 

In Japan, they've got their own style of rice, and a variety of that has more starch. This second type is steamed and pounded -- traditionally with giant wood mallets and a giant wood pestle, but they also (blessedly) have machines for it these days. (Still, I suppose the hammerer and mochi flipper team can be a bit more of a draw at fairs and public events and suchlike.)

Mochi can be and is often colored and/or flavored and/or wrapped around something -- and/or mixed with tons of preserving chemicals before left to sit on store shelves. There's a lot of ways its used as an ingredient (and as a food-like substance with the proper additives) for both desserts and otherwise.

(Hm, that wasn't such a short aside. Ah wells...)

Here's a video of the hammerer and mochi flipping team showing of their skills making kusamochi:

Sort of looks like they're beating up on that one ghost from Ghostbusters, doesn't it?

Getting back on track: the delightful East Asian perennial with the charming scientific name of Artemisia princeps -- aka yomogi. People in East Asia  have a tradition of using it for feminine complaints, but that's not all it's used for. Plug yomogi into a general shopping site like Amazon or whatever, and you'll see a very random assortment of products, and the usual stuff like mochi, powdered yomogi and seeds for growing your own yomogis -- we're talking soap, some kind of foot pads/wipes, facial masks, even some kind of pelvic corrective hot water bottle cushion for women in "yomogi". It's definitely part of the herbal health scene, it looks, as it's used to put the moxa in moxibustion.

Unusual and slightly surprising uses aside, apparently people use it to flavor things. Young leaves (harvested in spring and blanched), are put in foods (like soup, dango, o-hitashi and rice). 

If you can't get mugwort for your kusa mochi, that's okay, because tradition allows for other grasses like it that you can sub. (I don't know what those grasses are, but they're out there.) 

Aight, now for some history on this thing, so you'll feel all awesome and knowledgeable should you come across it and/or be eatin' it. 

Waaay back in the Heian period, like the first part of it, there was this one day, the third day of the third month. This day was then known as the infamous sounding Day of the Snake. On it, people in Japan ate kusamochi -- though their kusamochi used cudweed (gogyō or 御形), known alternately by the name/phrase "mother child grass" (hahakogusa or 母子草). (For any botany enthusiasts out there, the scientific name for this one is Gnaphalium affine). 

The reason for the kusamochi on the Day of the Snake, was because the Day of the Snake was a time to get rid of pollution. Spring greens, now in rice cake form!

This tradition came about because hahakogusa had a tradition in China: it was thought that it had such a powerful smell that it gave evil a great big smack on the olfactory receptors, keeping it well away from people. (They used other plants tradition also was a thing in Japan for a time -- and kind of still is).

But wait, I hear you say, isn't the third day of the third month Girls' Day/Hina Matsuri? Yep. The Girls' Day you read of today came out of the Day of the Snake -- the switch happened in the Edo period. In spite of all the emphasis on the dolls, Girls' Day is still a day of purification.

So on to modern day uses. Kusa mochi still is used for Hina Matsuri, though it's not the only official sweet of the day (at least one that I know of is hishi mochi -- diamond shaped mochi that has three layers: pink, white and green). It's also a dessert just generally associated with spring -- people use it in situations where they want to be historical and seasonal (like in kaiseki or a Girls' Day tea ceremony). 

As for ways people serve kusa mochi up, I've seen it made plain as well as kusamochi a la daifuku (filled with anko)... Curiously, one book, which was about tea ceremonies, said you're supposed to shape your kusamochi into a hat. That's the only place that I've happened across that's mentioned this hat, that I know. Sounds interesting, though. However they look, I bet they'd make a really different St. Patrick's Day dish, for sure!

References:
Happy year of the rooster! (Next year's the year of the dog, starting Febuary 16th -- pass it on!)

"Japan and the Culture of the Four Seasons: Nature, Literature, and the Arts"; Haruo Shirane; 2012

"Kaiseki: The Exquisite Cuisine of Kyoto's Kikunoi Restaurant"; Yoshihiro Murata; 2006

"Chado the Way of Tea: A Japanese Tea Master's Almanac"; Sasaki Sanmi; 2002

"Lake Biwa: Interactions between Nature and People". Hiroya Kawanabe, Machiko Nishino, Masayoshi Maehata (editors); 2012

NCBI PMC: "The combination of Artemisia princeps Pamp, Leonurus japonicas Houtt, and Gardenia jasminoides Ellis fruit attenuates the exacerbation of energy, lipid, and glucose by increasing hepatic PGC-1α expression in estrogen-deficient rats"; Hye Jeong Yang, Min Jung Kim, Dae Young Kwon, Bo Reum Moon, A. Reum Kim, Suna Kang, and Sunmin Park; 2016

"A Dictionary of Japanese Food: Ingredients and Culture"; Richard Hosking; 1995

Wappani

Your first clue for finding out what wappani is.
Truly, I am the MS Paint artist of the age!

Type  "wappani" into Google and you will find all manner of highly informative information -- on a native American tribe called the Wappinger. (They lived from Manhattan through Poughkeepsie, by the way. They merged with other native peoples after they and the Dutch spent some time beating the tar out of each other.)

But wappani -- no matter what your search engine may try to tell you -- has nothing to do with North American peoples, (though when you know what it is, you can't help but think it ought to be).

It's actually a Japanese dish, and it's spelled like this わっぱ煮. You'll find it's associated with the island of Awashima (kanji thusly: 粟島), part of Niigata Prefecture (aka Niigata ken or 新潟県).

And now, ¡te presento una mapa con la isla de Awashima! (Yes, I know this isn't Things on Latin America/Spain. I just don't get a lot of opportunities to show off my beginner's Spanish. Can't fault me that much, can you? ;) )







So, our geographical context is in place. Time to tell you what wappani is. It is, more or less, this:

First, take a special flat-bottomed bowl made of cedar (aka the wappa, aka わっぱ . You have no idea how much I want to think up a wappa/Whopper joke right now). Put your soup ingredients in it, including things like miso, onion and cooked fish.

Next, locate a few (and this is important) heat-resistant rocks (we're talking basalt (aka genbugan/玄武岩) here. Don't nobody wanna dodge kitchen shrapnel, 's all I'm sayin'.) Heat them in a well made fire of some kind until they're so hot that they scare you. Pour hot water into your bowl.

Take up your pair of fire resistant tongs, pick up one of your hot rocks, dip it in a conveniently placed bowl of water, and insert it into your wappa. If you've done it right, the water will instantly begin (and continue for a short time) to boil extremely well -- the 煮 part of wappani.

When it stops boiling as much, repeat the rock dipping and inserting process, until you are satisfied. (I actually don't know why the people in the videos I looked at put new hot rocks in the wappa. The soup looked pretty heated up to me with just the first rock. Trade secrets, perhaps, or unobservant blogger.)

Voila, wappani! Basically a ancient/tribal/survivalist version of making your own phyllo/puff pastry/lutefisk. In a way needlessly complicated, but interesting, kind of impressive and possibly worth doing one time, if you're in the mood for it.

Here's one of the videos I looked at:

A variation on the heating process involves putting the rock in before the water, and adding in more than one rock, as you can see in this video:

I'm sure the ancient Awashima inhabitants also had their fine wire strainers to get the foam off the top of the bowls. ;)

And there's more. The video below (dated May 2010) shows what looks like some kind of first annual festival. Be warned: lots of Japanese folksy (and even at one point jazz/bluesy) music  and lots of people being silly for the camera -- dancing, singing, saying that the wappani is delicious ("umai!" and "uma'!"), and having exaggerated reactions of bliss while eating it. (Of course, if wappani takes a long time to make, they may have just been really hungry.) Those feeling dignified and/or find their eyes (and soul) twitching at the sound of goofy or twangy music, this may be a little hard to watch.

 Might be fun to go to though. ;)

References:

From Wappinger to wappani.

The Free Dictionary: Wappinger

NHK: みちしる:粟島のわっぱ煮漁師たちの豪快な郷土料理 <-- Had to guess out a way to put the title together on this one, just an FYI to the bibliographers out there.

粟島浦村: 粟島食の特産品


(Only three this time, amazing!) Also, the middle reference has an interesting video that I would have liked to embed here, but alas.)

Shōbu, Hanashōbu, Ayame... or Something

Those of you who are up on Japanese flower/month seasonality know that this is waaaay out of sync. But hopefully you like it and don't feel too edutained. 



Observe this picture a moment.

Kinda pretty, isn't it?  I came across it in the Library of Congress's Flickr account (they've got a lot of old images there, you should check it out).

Its title is Horikiri no Hanashōbu or "Irises at Horikiri". It's -- and I have no idea why this is-- either number 56 or number 64 of the Utagawa Hiroshige's  One Hundred Views of Famous Places in Edo (Meisho Edo Hyakkei or 名所江戸百景).

(You might already know that Utagawa Hiroshige (1797 to 1858) was a famous woodblock artist. But if you didn't, now you do).

Strangely, I've looked at a couple different museums' copies of this print, and their color schemes tend to look different from the above... But that's a side trip of a side trip, when what I'm really trying to do is lead into today's topic: irises.

Though you don't hear about it (or at least I hadn't), irises were (and still are) a thing in Japan. There's stuff on them in centuries-old gardening manuals. And they were a popular (and therefore profitable) plant to grow there a while back. Not to mention the old gardens either partly or totally dedicated to irises.

For now, I'm going to focus on iris-related botany and traditions, and maybe I'll add in some more history as time goes on.


Names and Species
So let us ask ourselves, what makes the Japanese iris or hanashōbu  (花菖蒲)? Or should we say shōbu (菖蒲) instead? Or perhaps the name is ayame? ...'Scuse me a moment *breathes into paper bag for half a minute*.

Okay, I'll try to explain now.

When first trying to find a botanical definition for the "Japanese iris" (get ready for some Linnaeus-style names), I (big surprise) ran into different people saying different things. Looking again (it had been a while since I last worked on this post), I've discovered a list of irises plus their Japanese names on a personal page hosted by the University of Vermont. Here's a list of irises that I found there (the "I." is short for "Iris"):

I. sanguinea = ayame 

I. ensata = hanashōbu 

I. laevigata = kakitsubata 

I. japonica = shaga 

I. pseudacorus = ki shōbu

Of course this same list says that just plain shōbu means Acorus calamus, aka the sweet flag/calamus/sweet calamus... though a different place says an (old) name for calamus is ayame. Then there's  this book that says that Acorus calamus (variant asiaticus) is the shōbu, also known as ayame. Which various sites agree with when it comes to traditions that use irises.

Thought I'd put some iris pics
in. This one I think's supposed
to be I. pseudacorus. From
NYPL Digital Commons.

But wait, here's another explanation that goes like this: ayame/hana-ayame is an old-time word for iris, while shōbu  is a shortening of hanashōbu -- though you might see the latter referenced as sweet flag.

And then, rising out of the mist to join the unholy horde of maniacally disparate definitions, comes yet another one, more insidious than the last. Agreeing with the Vermont page, that same aforementioned book says hanashōbu applies to I. ensata, and also includes what it calls the I. ensata's "descendants". (I assume that means hybrids or crossbred species?) Oh, and ayame is also another (old) name for I. sanguinea, by the way. But wait, there's still more.

When looking up hanafuda in the online video world, I've seen a vlog and a Japanese language video on the koi-koi style that both say the name's ayame or shōbu. (Nargh......)

Like something the dinosaurs
would've walked by (and probably
stepped on), it's: the sweet flag.
The dotted oblong thing on the
left is the "flower". 

And then, there's this one book that says ayame and hanashōbu  are both words for I. ensata -- which it says in English is called the Japanese iris, Japanese water iris and Kaempfer's ris. (Double, no, triple nargh....)

Of course, my Japanese-English dictionary (published by Langenscheidt) simply said the name for iris was 'ayame', but I've grown not to trust it that much, so who knows what the truth is -- apparently, nobody does. At all. Probably depends on what your family/friends use.


One really does start to wonder just how set these definitions are...  *gives a jaded yet dispassionate glare into the middle distance*

Sigh....



Traditions
Ignoring the fact that the science of botany must be evidence that not all potentialities completely collapse when a decision is made, let's talk about some of the cultural stuff.

You'll find sites that say that the iris is associated with the 5th lunar month, or May these days, because it's the time when irises (I assume all kinds) bloom (though you'll also see them in June), and is considered a symbol of summer.

In connection to this, you'll see the iris (though not the sweet flag, but one with petals) as one of the suits in a hanafuda deck, which uses a flower/plant theme for each of its twelve suits (one for each month, see?).

Speaking of seasonality, irises are supposed to be an old way to tell when to put your rice seedlings into the fields. A different sort of flower clock, eh?

Though Japan does have Cinco de Mayo festivals, May 5th over there means tango no sekku (端午の節句), which ofttimes people translate as Boy's Day (or even its new name, Children's Day), though it sure doesn't look like the kanji for that to me. But it has other names too: shōbu no sekku (菖蒲の節句 or Iris Festival) and shōbu no hi (菖蒲の日 or  Iris Day). I've even seen the day called (in English, at least) the "sweet flag festival" -- which adds to the argument that Acorus calamus is the actual flower for the occasion.

So, Tango no Sekku iris sweet flag traditions. There's a tradition of putting sweet flag leaves in the bath water to keep from getting sick or make evil spirits stay away (I'm sensing a possible case of semantics here). Apparently you can even find onsens (bath houses) that do this with their baths. This iris bath even has a name, shōbu-yu or菖蒲湯 -- which means "sweet flag hot water".

Yet another tradition I read about says that way back when, irises were thought to stop fires, and on tango no sekku some places in the countryside put up iris leaves on the outside of their houses. (I wonder if they really just used sweet flag for this or others...hmm... that's just me still not having a solid idea about the whole thing though.)

Oh, and let's not forget 菖蒲酒 which I want to say ought to be spelled shōbuzake, but the source I found didn't use the macron so yeah.... It's iris-flavored sake, which sounds absolutely terrible to me, but then again most alcohol I've ever tried just tastes like clarified rot anyway. The point of shōbuzake is the same as the other traditions, to protect you from evil. It certainly would kill some germs at least. And probably some taste buds too.

Iris Viewing
Want to know where some iris gardens in Japan are? You've come to the right header! One of the iris gardens still out there today is at the Meiji Imperial Shrine (Meiji Jingū or 明治神宮). But you can also go to public gardens that have iris viewing festivals.

Like the one in northern Kyushu at the Ishibashi Cultural Center (石橋美術館) in Fukuoka Prefecture  -- this year's festival started May 28th and went until June 19th.

Or you could go to Katsushika Ward's Iris Festival, which is held at two parks. One is Misumoto Park (Mizumoto Kōen 水元公園), which has an iris garden in it. The other park is  Horikiri Hanashōbu (堀切菖蒲園) -- yep, that Horikiri.

Speaking of which, here's an old photo of it from the NYPL Digital Commons:

Then there's the iris festival of Kameyama (亀山) in Mie Prefecture. In spite of the (smidgen of) research I put into finding what they're doing for future festivals, I haven't found anything. But I do know they held their 18th iris festival on June 14th last year. For a greater sense of place and all that, here's a description from the pdf:

"Date and Time: June 14 (Sun), 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. (The festival will be held even if it rains.) Place: Iris field in Kameyama Park (Kameyama Kōen Shōbuen) Features: Instruction of growing irises (sale of irises), stalls (Yakisoba, Mitarashi, popcorn, cotton candy, Frankfurt sausages, rolled sushi, Misoyaki Udon, Japanese and western confectionery, Aji-gohan, various beverages, local products, handicrafts produced by physically disabled people), outdoor Japanese tea ceremony, photo contest, painting contest (for elementary school students or younger), balloon art and more…" 

Of course, if you want to stay in a predominantly English speaking country, there are iris festivals in the U.S., like in Sumter, North Carolina and Dresden, Tennessee. Have fun!

References:
Cuz it's all so awesome, everyone should be able to read them.

Kurume Bureau of Tourism and International Exchange: Kurume, A City of Hospitality: Iris Festival

"CRC World Dictionary of Plant Names: Common Names, Scientific Names, Eponyms, Synonyms, and Etymology", Volume 2; Umberto Quattrocchi; 2000

University of Virginia Library: Japanese Haiku a Topical Ditionary: Brief Entries: natsu: gyōji, Summer: Observances

Princeton University: Cotsen Children's Library: "Japan's "Last Living Ninja" Infiltrates the Cotsen Children's Library in "The Art of Ninjutsu: Tiger Scroll""; Tara McGowan; May 2, 2016

"Collecting Japanese Antiques"; Alistair Seton; 2004

Cross Currents: Boys' Day, Children's Day, or Tango no Sekku (May 5)

Portland Art Museum: Asian Art Council  <<< See, this version of the Hiroshige's work is so different from the one here!

Kameyama News, No. 74; May 2015

University of Vermont: Perry's Perennial Pages: Perennial Plant Names: Japanese Common Names, alphabetic by genus

"Japanese Floral Calendar"; Ernest W. Clement, M.A.; 1904 <<< A free Google e-book, by the way.

City of Dresden, Tennessee

"The Japanese Iris"; Currier McEwen; 1990

City of Sumter

"The Lure of the Japanese Garden"; Alison Main, Newell Platten; 2002

College of Policy Science, Ritsumeikan University: Enjoy Fushimi Home of Sake Breweries



U.S. National Plant Germplasm System: Taxon: Acorus calamus L.

Shinkokinshū: New Collection of Poems Ancient and Modern"; Laurel Rasplica Rodd (translator and introducer); 2015

Image References:
For the photographically inclined (and my own protection).

Rare Book Division, The New York Public Library. "Iris pseudocorus" The New York Public Library Digital Collections. http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47dd-ef64-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99

The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Photography Collection, The New York Public Library. "Horikiri, Iris Flower Garden at Tokio" The New York Public Library Digital Collections. http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47d9-c927-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99

USDA-NRCS PLANTS Database / Britton, N.L., and A. Brown. 1913. An illustrated flora of the northern United States, Canada and the British Possessions. 3 vols. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. Vol. 1: 446.

which I got from here:

USDA, NRCS. 2016. The PLANTS Database (http://plants.usda.gov, 31 October 2016). National Plant Data Team, Greensboro, NC 27401-4901 USA.