Yesterday I had a craving for Roesti (or Rösti), a Swiss variation of potato pancakes. But I’d been intending to make a Korean style kamja-jeon, also a potato pancake, for about a week now.

Not wanting to repeat myself, of course, today’s dinner involved a smaller portion of the pancake and numerous Korean-style side dishes.

The two styles are quite different. In the realm of Roesti, there are two schools of thought: one favoring parboiled potatoes, and the other preferring raw potatoes. I’m not partisan; the results are different in both cases, but quite pleasant either way. Last night I chose to parboil the potatoes for roughly 10 minutes, and then I peeled and shredded them. For me, the distinguishing feature between Roesti and, for example, German Kartoffelpuffer, is that Roesti usually involves tossing the shredded or chopped potatoes in the hot pan with some fat (in my case, Butterschmalz, clarified butter), before shaping into a patty. Kartoffelpuffer, on the other hand, are essentially shredded, soaked briefly in water, and drained; the starch is recovered from the settled water and mixed in with the potatoes, and generally, onions.

Roesti with sour cream and toasted almonds

Roesti take quite a long time to cook; a fair 5–10 minutes on each side. The Kartoffelpuffer, like Latke, are cooked in a lot of oil for just a few minutes on each side. Roesti are generally also a bit thicker than Kartoffelpuffer. The potatoes in Roesti may be chopped rather than shredded, but this time I used the biggest holes on my cheese grater.

The first Roesti recipe I followed as a student in Germany suggested serving with some toasted sunflower seeds or pumpkin seeds. Last night I didn’t have any in my pantry, but I did have some almond slivers, which I toasted briefly before adorning my sour cream-enhanced Roesti with them.

In another part of the planet, a similar style of potato pancakes is made with very finely shredded potatoes, onions, and a bit of salt. The Korean version comes close to Kartoffelpuffer or Latke, but is usually not cooked with as much oil. The potatoes are generally only browned lightly, but if done right, they still have a nice crispness.

Like Kartoffelpuffer, kamja-jeon are made with recovered potato starch. However, the potatoes tend to be shredded much more finely. I used a slightly coarse Microplane grater.

In Korea, perhaps because I tend to stay in or near Seoul, which is not the region associated with these pancakes, I’ve never had earth-shatteringly good kamja-jeon. I tend to prefer my own, because mine are somewhat crispier and a bit softer inside. I think some less impressive restaurants in Korea tend to rush them, so they sometimes seem not very crispy and slightly raw inside.

Another distinction between these and their European counterparts is a savory dipping sauce, rather than an additional layer of fat from a sour cream accompaniment, or sweet applesauce. The dipping sauce, in this case, is soy sauce, a bit of vinegar, some finely chopped scallions, and a few pieces of chopped Korean pepper. I usually skip the pepper, but since the rest of my side dishes weren’t terribly spicy, I wanted a hint of chili in there.

Because I cooked Korean food, I wasn’t done when I started the pancakes; I needed a few side dishes to go along with the kamja-jeon, so I made some vegetables and some tofu.

Grilled tofu

Kong Namul (Seasoned bean sprouts)

Napa kimchi

Choy sum (sweet cabbage) with gochu

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My silence the last few days is merely a reflection of a rough schedule, combined with relatively uninteresting eating.

I did my usual supermarket demos on Friday and Saturday, one of which was a long stretch away in Beaverton. I think I’ll be doing one more Portland area demo this holiday season, then maybe one in January. It’s still painful to go down there because of high gas prices, but someow I got decent mileage on the last trip.

My dragon beard candy has been selling at a fairly decent clip, presumably due to holiday demand. I restocked the Seattle Uwajimaya faster than I expected. I hope that keeps up. But for cost reasons, I’m not doing anything dramatic this year; last year, I brought the candymakers to Seattle, Portland and the Bay Area to run some promotional events. I can’t quite cost justify that this year, because my available resources are too tight, and unless I do something larger in scale, maybe in New York or very dense urban outlet, this kind of promotion only just barely pays for itself.

Last night I had a decent dinner, but I just haven’t been eating well lately. Today I had no time for lunch. I don’t like to eat “out” right now because it doesn’t save much time and even at the low end of the cost scale, is more expensive than making the equivalent food myself, but I’ve caved in and grabbed a burrito, slice of pizza or similar pretty much daily recently.

I wanted to make nabe-yaki udon for dinner last night, and I realized I had no udon, or even soba. So I settled for some thin “glass noodles”, turning my essentially rustic Japanese dinner into an accidental pan-Asian fusion dish. It was comforting and fairly healthy, consisting mostly of vegetables, shiitake, and tofu. I hope it made up for my slice pizza, eggnog latte and cookie lunch, which was quite the opposite.

This week was completely crazy, and I rarely had a spare moment before, say, 7 pm, in the best case. Today was like that, but more so. I had a couple of urgent shipments to take care of, which I handled, but the rest will unfortunately have to wait until Monday. I hate to delay sending off orders but I haven’t been able to keep up completely.

After running over to Redmond for a few hours, I got back to Seattle with just about an hour to take care of several outstanding tasks before I needed to make some final preparations for a demo event at Les Cadeaux Gourmets.

I haven’t done a lot of events in this type of venue before, and it was nice to have an audience that was already excited about specialty foods. It never fails when I do a demo in Uwajimaya that someone will complain that my products are too expensive. In that context, they are at the top end of the scale, but for most specialty gift stores, my products are in a fairly comfortable price range, and nobody visibly compained about the prices (which I cannot make any better without selling at a loss). The only thing that makes the products atypical is that they are Asian rather than European.

So today, I had slightly more intimate conversations with customers, and a very receptive audience, and, although I didn’t do a detailed analysis yet, an apparently higher conversion rate than I usually see. I was fairly happy with the results, even though store traffic was a bit quieter than I’m used to handling at supermarkets.

While doing my demo I ran into the group manager for my team in MSN, which was quite a surprise. I don’t know why it should have been a surprise, as I vaguely remember hearing he lived in the Queen Anne neighborhood when I worked at MSN, but somehow it didn’t register. Anyway, I introduced my products (at least the objects of today’s demo) to him and caught up a little bit.

After finishing up with my demo I met up with Lisa of Three Tree Tea to get more demo materials for the next few weeks. I finally got to eat dinner at that time: a quick burrito at the West Seattle Tacqueria Guaymas. Today worked out to be about 14 hours of nonstop activity…

I wanted a light dinner today because I’ve been eating too much bread and dairy products for comfort.

I didn’t entirely lay off the bread tonight, I served a nice simple salad with a persimmons and very fresh tofu. The dressing consists of a small spoonful of white miso, a little mustard, a neutral vegetable oil, a bit of lime juice, and a hint of sesame oil with some grated fresh ginger.

I had a packed schedule today, so simplicity ruled dinner.

The Girl Who Ate Everything has a bit of a homework assignment to explain food blogging. I started writing a short comment, but it kept growing, even though I don’t think I have the “answer.” Because I seemed a little too verbose, I thought my thoughts would work better as a blog entry than as a comment.

For those who don’t know already, Pursuing My Passions is not, strictly speaking, a food blog, but food is one of the things I’m most passionate about. I cook fairly obsessively, and my business was founded in part because of how much I enjoy food browsing in Japanese department stores.

My food obsessions started fomenting when I was quite young, as I began cooking for myself, to a limited extent, as a child. By the time I was about 7 years old, I had some basic microwave oven and frypan skills, and in my pre-teen years I played with Bisquick and perused the Joy of Cooking. During my final semester in college, before looking at my student loan bills, I briefly entertained the idea of going to graduate school to study the role of food in revolutionary movements and peasant rebellions. (At the time I also wore my political stripes very loudly).

I'm not sure blogs are reactions against glossy idyllic portrayals of food, considering how much culinary celebrity worship goes on in blogging contexts, and how happily food bloggers devour "food porn."

Blogs do let relatively ordinary people connect their culinary experiences with other people who share similar passions. It may be hard to share my food obsessions with my friends in the same way I can do in a blog; many of my friends are happy to indulge along with me when I'm cooking, but are mildly amused by my ability to steer any conversation toward food topics. Online, people self-select when they want to participate in that conversation, so they are at least as interested in food as me, at least for a moment.

Blogging is, however, a kind of democratization of "cuisine." Without a “target market", unlike a food magazine or TV show, bloggers can, comfortably and without shame or bashfulness, rapidly shift focus between homemade haute cuisine and humble, lowbrow daily fare. Unless they want to, bloggers don’t have to make pretentions of healthfulness or authenticity, and they don’t have to promise easy results in 30 minutes or that your neighbors will be impressed by all the work you’ve done if you just follow some lovely focus-group tested recipes. They just have to celebrate food in an endearing way.

Instead of a traditional media priesthood of good taste (ahem), food blogging is more like a potluck. We might occasionally try to impress each other, but blogging is more about sharing the joy of little discoveries, minor food tragedies, and culinary triumphs. And sometimes guilt, giddiness or discontent.

The thing that makes blogging more real than a magazine, cookbook or TV series is the lack of editors and producers who needs to balance the interests of advertisers, the fickleness of their audiences, and the egos of their writers or hosts. We’re relatively content regardless of who shows up to the party.

As food bloggers, each one of us can wear many hats… restaurant reviewer, chef, event planner, food diarist, food stylist, cooking class instructor, co-conspirator… for most of us, our ability to shift between these roles wouldn’t be possible in other contexts.

Blogging has a low barrier to entry, but fairly powerful network effects… I once saw photos someone in Holland and someone else in Malaysia had taken after making a variation of a cookie recipe I had originally posted on my blog. Similarly, I’ve been inspired by flavor combinations I wouldn’t have otherwise thought about from people blogging around the world. That kind of global influence, even on a small scale, is just incredible to think about. I’m not likely not get my 15 minutes of fame by posting an occasional article online, but this ability to reach other people, and learn from each other, is really appealing.

Nothing is more comforting than some nice French toast on a weekend morning, even if I do have a full day of work ahead of me. I cut some 1– or 2– day old Essential Bakery baguette into roughly 1 inch thick slices, and dipped each slice into some milk, then into some beaten egg. I dusted the slices with some Chinese-style five spice powder, and grilled them in a buttered pan. I served the toast with some medium amber maple syrup and a few slices of banana.

My Thanksgiving weekend was no weekend… I spent a lot of time doing supermarket demos. I hope they pay off.

A midnight snack

Earlier this week, I had a late night hunger pang, and I wanted something small and simple to nibble on. With some leftover renkon (lotus root) handy, I started cooking the renkon in a bit of butter until slightly golden brown on each side, then I added a splash of soy sauce and the tiniest hint of mirin.

My first memory eating renkon bataa was about a year and a half ago with some of Hiromi’s friends. The simplicity of the dish may obscure its charm… it’s an excellent shared plate, especially when served with some good cold sake or other favored intoxicant. When made well, you’ll be fighting over the pieces. You might like to add some grated katsuobushi as a garnish. 

I made no plans with my local family for this year’s Thanksgiving, or vice versa, for that matter… the only thing I had planned was a brief supermarket demo at Uwajimaya; I ran my demo until about 4:30 or so, and got home just shy of 5pm.

I conspired with a friend to do a simple dinner close to standard Thanksgiving fare. I made some roasted sweet potatoes gratin, a mushroom-shallot cream sauce baked fresh green bean dish, some beautifully red cooked apples, and a dish of oven-baked dill-garlic mashed potatoes. We also had a mulled spiced apple cider.

Originally I had planned to make some protein-heavy dish for myself, but I somehow distracted myself and never quite got around to it. For me the whole meal was about butter and cream. I prepared gravy for Jennifer, who brought over three brined turkey pieces and one untreated one (needed to produce suitable fats for a gravy).

My camera batteries died unexpectedly when I was trying to photograph yesterday’s dinner. I never got any decent photos before the camera died.

Tonight I had battery power, but a much more basic dinner. I made a little yakisoba and some mapo doufu.

I tried to cram too much into this week. I really had a difficult time managing everything. I tried to squeeze in demos, pack orders, run down to the airport and pry the new shipment from the slow moving airfreight warehouse, and plow through more insanity than I knew what to do with.

I’ve been swamped today trying to catch up with orders. Unfortunately, I didn’t get as far as I had hoped, so I need to knock out a lot of the rest tomorrow or I’ll be in desperate shape.

I was able to pick most of my orders for in-stock things picked but some complications made it impossible to get everything out. I’ve never been this overwhelmed before.

Just after making the ground cutoff for FedEx, I went back home and got a yeast dough started, while I worked on some other things. I really needed a brisk walk to decompress, so stepped out for about 30 minutes. I’m really exhausted, and I really got minimal sleep last night. Right now I’d like to be packing a few more orders to get a jump on tomorrow, but I’m so worn out I’m afraid of making mistakes.

This bread proofed only for about an hour, so it never developed any real flavor or textural complexity, but it formed a nice crust.

On eGullet an innocent inquiry by a restaurant-savvy Manhattan denizen about disposable chopsticks turned into a lively discussion about Japanese food-related taboos.

Namely, Japanese seem to be resistant to reusing chopsticks, and people are far more comfortable with disposable chopsticks than reusable alternatives (unless they are using their own pair). Chopsticks become strongly associated with the person that uses them. On the eGullet thread, I suggested that the origin of this is in old taboos about touching other peoples’ belongings, and also tied to Shinto rituals related to chopsticks.

Actually, although Japan has a reputation for elaborate ritual, it’s not so difficult to learn basic Japanese dining etiquette. Most of the rules about how to behave when eating are just related to chopstick usage.

You don’t need to worry about the order of utensils to use since there’s usually only one to choose from. You don’t really need to worry about where your left hand is. You don’t even need to worry about the order of what to eat, although it’s more delicate to take a bite of rice, when present, between tastes of different side dishes.

I think you need to worry more about whether you have holes in your socks than the way you eat.

Gourmets may argue about the preferred order to eat certain foods, but it’s not necessary to follow such rules to be polite; it’s sort of like knowing the preferred order to eat cheese in the U.S. or Europe. It might reflect on your sophistication or lack thereof, but doesn’t make you a barbarian.

I have sometimes tended toward nervousness when eating with unfamiliar people in Japan, perhaps from some anxiety that I may do something inappropriate. This is perhaps slightly amusing or occasionally endearing but completely unnecessary. Except for some easy-to-follow rules about manipulating chopsticks, you don’t need to worry much.

My favorite steamed Chinese bun is one of the simplest. After proofing a fairly standard, slightly sweetened yeast dough, I massage in a tiny bit of baking powder, which seems to affect elasticity. I roll out the dough as thin as practical, then rub in a liberal amount of roasted sesame seed oil. After that, I usually add nothing more than scallions, but occasionally I add some chili flakes or some sesame seeds according to my whim.

I roll up this sheet tightly, then take a dough cutter to create 1.5”-2” wide sections. I use chopsticks to smash the end of the spiral into the bun, causing the bun to expand out into a flower-like shape. The buns need to be steamed for just about 15 minutes.

Hua Juan: Steamed Flower Rolls

Yuba and vegetable soup with kikurage

Alas, because I never progressed very far when studying Chinese, I only know the Japanese names for most of the ingredients in this Chinese-style soup. Although essentially a simple soup, I used a lot of different vegetables, including onions, celery, garlic, sichuan ja tsai (zasai) pickles, snow cabbage pickles, carrots, napa cabbage, carrots, chilies, and, perhaps atypically, some turnips, and some shungiku (chrysanthemum leaves).

I incorporated some rehydrated yuba (soy milk skins), and dried “tree jellyfish” mushrooms (kikurage in Japanese) some pressed, slightly dried Chinese style tofu.

In order to add an earthy nuance, I seasoned this soup with a moderate amount of sesame oil. I also incorporated a fair amount of black vinegar and, of course, soy sauce and salt. To thicken the soup slightly, I relied on a bit of katakuriko dissolved in liquid.

Dinner is served.