How to Survive a Japanese Winter

Shortly after I graduated from university I moved to a small town perched high in the mountains of central Japan. The name of the town literally means high or highest mountain and it is surrounded by breathtaking peaks, many of them capped in snow year round. I arrived in October, just in time to witness the flaming autumn foliage. Soon, however, the leaves had fallen off the trees, the days turned bitterly cold, and winter was upon us.

Japan is not the coldest place I have ever lived, but the lack of central heating or effective insulation meant that my small apartment often felt like an icebox. My toothpaste froze solid, dishes left to soak would be encased in a block of ice by morning, and I could leave perishables on the counter overnight without fear they might go bad. In fact, in the darkest depths of winter I needed to refrigerate my milk because, if left out overnight, it would freeze solid; the insulation of the refrigerator kept it warm enough to save it from becoming a dairy popsicle.

Two things helped me survive that first winter: the numerous hot springs scattered throughout the mountains and Japanese nabe.

In Japanese, the word nabe literally means pot. Nabe ryori is hot pot cooking where vegetables, meat, and sometimes noodles or rice are cooked in a communal pot at the dining table. The pot is filled with one of several different broths, and meat and vegetables are gradually added to the pot to cook. Eating is family style, with everyone serving themselves from the central pot.

While sukiyaki is perhaps the most well known of the nabe dishes there is quite a variety, with regional specialities that make use of local ingredients. The nabe from Hokkaido, Japan’s large northern island, pairs salmon and vegetables with a miso broth; Nagano’s Sakura Nabe features horsemeat, a famous local delicacy; the Tanba and Yamashiro area, near Kyoto, is known for their Botan Nabe of wild boar meat. Click here for an article listing some of the many nabe variations. Nabe helped me get through the miserable cold of my first Japanese winter (as did an industrial strength electric blanket and the ski cap I wore to bed each night). I have been hooked ever since.

Nabe orignated in the rural areas of Japan sometime in the 9th century. It’s farmhouse fare, descended from the large pot that was kept warm over the irori or hearth. Nabe is casual eating and the only place it is permitted to pick from a serving dish without turning around your chopsticks (as is customary). In the Edo period (early 1600s to mid-1800s) there was a trend towards individual nabe pots, which were brough to the table and kept warm on small charcoal braziers called hibachi. When I left Japan I brought with me an individual nabe for everyday use, and a large communal nabe pot for parties. Nabe parties were a favorite winter activity amongst my Japanese friends. The four grey pots down the center of the table are nabe, now empty.

Even though I now live in an area that barely has a winter, I still make nabe. In fact, somewhere around December or January I begin to crave it. Nabe is easy to cook, great for a party, and good for you as well. It’s also quite filling (one variety, chanko nabe, is a staple for sumo wrestlers). A 2001 survey showed that Japanese families eat nabe five times a month in the winter—more than once a week. I tell you, it’s the only way to survive that kind of cold.

BASIC VEGETABLE NABE (yose nabe)

This is perhaps the most simple nabe I know. For a quick winter supper, it can’t be beat. The ingredients below will serve two people, multiply as needed.

1 piece dried konbu seaweed, about 3 inches squared
1 block of tofu (firm or semi-firm, not silken)
1 package enoki mushrooms (those are the white stringy kind)
2 negi (Japanese green onion) or leeks
1 half a hakusai or napa/Chinese cabbage
1 half bunch shungiku (edible chrysanthemum leaves). These may be hard to find and can be omitted, but they have a lovely, delicate green flavor.
1 cup ponzu dipping sauce

Except for the ponzu dipping sauce, which contains fish stock, the above version is vegetarian. I sometimes like to add ginger-chicken balls (recipe below)

I buy ponzu pre-made in an Asian grocery store. It can be prepared at home by mixing 1 tbs yuzu juice, 2 tbs rice vinegar, 5 tbs soy sauce, and 5 tbs dashi soup stock (made from bonito flakes and kelp). I’ve seen suggestions for substituting lemon juice for the yuzu. That might work, but it won’t be exactly the same. Grapefruit juice might be closer, or a mix of the two.

Rinse the dried konbu in warm water and put it in the bottom of a medium pot with enough water to cover it by two inches (you might also want to add a shot or two of sake to the water). Ideally you would use a do-nabe, a clay pot with a vented lid made especially for nabe which can be purchased at Asian markets, but any pot will do in a pinch. There’s also a modern trend, at least in the home, to serve nabe in an electic hot pot that can be plugged in and will stay warm at the table. n>

Cut the tofu into medium cubes. Trim the bottoms off the mushrooms so the rooty bits and dirt are gone, but not so much that they no longer clump together. Cut the leek on a diagonal into one inch pieces. Cut the cabbage lengthwise into a quarter wedge and then into one inch strips. The kiku, likewise, should be cut from stems to top in one inch pieces, roughly bite sized.

Put the pot with warm water over a medium heat and as it comes to a simmer begin to add the vegetables, covering the pot between each addition. Start with the negi or leeks. A minute or so later add the cabbage and tofu. Wait another minute and add the mushrooms (and ginger-chicken balls, if desired). Finally, as the water begins to bubble, add the kiku, put the cover on the pot, and turn the heat off. The steam should wilt the kiku. You don’t want to overcook the veggies as they can become soggy and unappealing. As soon as the kiku is wilted and the tofu and veggies warmed through, the nabe is ready to serve. If you are planning on cooking the nabe at the table, you can arrange the raw ingredients on a platter and add them as you go along. Otherwise, cook the dish on the stove and then bring the pot to the table, going back to the stove for round two if you are still hungry. I don’t eat the konbu but it is edible (and my Japanese friends tell me that eating konbu will give you beautiful, strong hair).

Nabe is eaten straight out of the pot, dipping the tofu and veggies into a saucer of ponzu. Serve with a bowl of hot rice and a cold beer or Japanese sake. It’s almost enough to make a person like winter, at the very least it will help you make it through to spring.

GINGER-CHICKEN BALLS

I like to make these balls in a separate pot, as the cooking water gets a bit greasy. It makes this nabe a two pot meal, rather than one, but they’re so good it’s worth it.

1 cup ground chicken
2 tbs chopped nira (garlic chives or chinese chives) or scallions
1 tsp grated fresh ginger (or 1 1/2 tsp if you’re like me and really love your ginger)
half an egg, beaten
1/2 tsp soy sauce

Thoughly mix all ingredients in a bowl. Bring a small pot with about 3 inches of water to a boil. With a large tablespoon, shape chicken into balls slightly smaller than a golf ball and drop them, one by one, into the boiling water. Make sure the balls don’t stick to the side of the pot. It will take about 5 minutes to cook fully through and you can tell when they firm up and don’t feel so soft (but I always use chopsticks to break one open to make sure there is no pink on the inside). Add to the nabe and dip into ponzu before eating. This makes about eight balls, enough for two people.