Читать книгу Japan from Anime to Zen - David Watts Barton - Страница 27

While foreigners may not think of Japanese cuisine as being particularly focused on desserts, let alone candy, the Japanese themselves are wise to one of Japan’s most delightful delicacies: wagashi.

Using a fairly limited list of ingredients—glutinous rice, adzuki beans, nuts, and, of course, sugar—the Japanese give full rein to their flair for creating subtle flavors out of unassuming elements. Not only that: Wagashi confectioners are among Japan’s most talented artisans, turning those modest ingredients into brilliant, beautiful little works that evoke the seasons and nature’s beauties, creating morsels that delight the eye as well as the tongue.

The four seasons are aesthetically important in Japan, showing up in literature, painting, flower arranging, festivals, clothing, and even in sweets. Wagashi are often formed into shapes of flowers and leaves, like a cherry (sakura) leaf, for example. This makes wagashi a particularly beloved gift for visits to Japanese friends or, for that matter, to take home as delicious souvenirs.

The ingredients of various wagashi are simple but remarkably malleable, and none of them more so than the pounded glutinous rice that becomes, almost magically, that most basic of wagashi: mochi. Chewy, infinitely moldable, and with a neutral but pleasant flavor, mochi can be filled with adzuki bean paste, fried, frozen with ice cream inside, or given other twists. As anyone who has had it knows, mochi is one of Japan’s many gastronomic miracles.

But mochi is not alone: Adzuki beans, when combined with sugar, make a wonderful, subtly sweet red paste known as anko, which fills more than a few mochi forms. One of them is the popular daifuku, in which a thin membrane of mochi is stretched around a cluster of anko, or even whole adzuki beans, or perhaps a little bit of fruit, giving daifuku a distinctive look.

Monaka is another favorite wagashi, it too made of glutinous rice flour. But instead of being pounded fine like mochi, the rice flour is made into a batter, which is baked into light, thin cakes that are then filled with anko (or other fillings). Monaka are often formed to look like blossoms.

Yatsuhashi is Kyoto’s famous specialty, with its distinctive texture (if unbaked) and an unusual (for Japan) cinnamon smell. You may find it formed into any number of fanciful shapes, the flour itself infused with other flavors that might include green tea or sesame.

Kintsuba is another simple wagashi, composed of solidified anko that has been floured and lightly fried, giving it a crunchy, delicate texture somewhat like a donut.

Manju features anko wrapped in dough, then steamed. Manju may also contain other flours, sugar, and even egg, and in some areas it is baked rather than steamed.

Yokan looks the most like much Western candy, but don’t be fooled. Though it can be bar-shaped, this isn’t chocolate, but a jellied red bean paste.

Namagashi are perhaps the prettiest wagashi, formed into a variety of floral shapes that change almost week to week, depending on the season. A great gift, but only if it’s to be delivered within a couple of days, as namagashi are very perishable!

Perhaps the most popular wagashi in Japan is dango, made once again of rice flour, sometimes other flours, baked or boiled, and dipped in sugar or perhaps even a salty soy sauce. Though simple, dango are popular all over the country, and the word dango has even become a shorthand for a particular hairdo. Add sesame seeds and you have goma-dango!

Dango are sweet puffballs on skewers dipped in sugar or soy sauce.

There are many other forms of wagashi that are regional as well as seasonal, and confectioners in various parts of the country have developed very distinctive variations, using local ingredients, inspired by local plants or other seasonal ephemera. When traveling Japan, seeking out the local wagashi specialties is a worthwhile touristic pursuit.

Westerners, especially Americans who are used to enormous amounts of sugar in their sweets, will find that wagashi are far more subtle in their sweetness and won’t deliver the sugar hit that many crave. But when paired with a cup of astringent green tea, wagashi are not just pretty to look at; they have a subtle, delightful sweetness that won’t lead to the crash and burn of American candy. This makes wagashi yet another way in which the subtlety and sophistication of Japan can slowly alter one’s expectations of how life is supposed to be.