Mid-winter in Japan is magical and there’s no place in the world I can think of where I’d rather see in the New Year than Kyoto. There are over 2000 Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines- I know because Sabrina complained that it felt like I’d dragged her to see almost all of them, but there’s one that stood out amongst the blur of incense and offertory bell-ringing- Ryoan-ji, or the “Temple of the Peaceful Dragon”. While I may wax lyrical about the famous Zen rock Garden and “Tsukubu” the iconic stone basin inscribed “I learn only to be contented” (a concept I wish I’d understood when I chose to major in History at university), Sabrina’s recollection is dominated by the incredible meal that we had at the Seven Herb Tofu Restaurant in the temple grounds. It serves a single dish- “Yudofu”, which is boiled tofu and vegetables, topped with 7 herbs, in a serenely beautiful pavilion set in a grove of maple and pine trees. The pavilion is fronted by a small pond and moss garden, and you sit cross-legged on a tatami mat and survey this scene as you eat.
Sabrina has never tried to re-create this dish at home as it’s far too time consuming to prepare, but here’s a South Korean version of it, which we sometimes enjoy as a substitute.
Korean Tofu Hotpot: Serves Four
This is a Korean take on Chinese and Japanese hot pot, but as usual I have changed it slightly. I also like making a Chinese Tofu Hotpot with Chicken, Prawns and Pork when I feel like something that isn’t spicy.
2 containers of firm tofu, cut in half and then into 1/4″ slices
10 oz lean ground beef
Marinade for the beef:
1 1/2 tbsp soy sauce
1 whole green onion, finely sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 egg
1 tsp white pepper
Mix the beef with the marinade and let it sit.
Rest of the ingredients:
4 oz Daikon radish, cut into 1/4s and then sliced
4 shiitake mushrooms, sliced
2 cups beef stock
1 tsp dark soy
You will need an earthenware pot that can be used over an open flame.
Squeeze the tofu between layers of kitchen towel to remove most of the water; then pan-fry them on both sides in batches until they are all done. Make tofu “sandwiches” with one layer of tofu and one teaspoon of meat then top with another piece of tofu, secure with a toothpick. When you have finished, layer the bottom of the pot with the daikon and sprinkle some of the mushrooms over them. Then arrange the tofu “sandwiches” on top, sprinkle on the rest of the mushrooms, add the stock and the soy. Bring to boil then reduce the heat and cook until the meat is done.
Serve with steamed rice and kimchi.
We’ve celebrated New Year twice in Japan and wherever you are, it’s an enchanting time- crowds in their finest clothes (many of the women wear their best kimonos and fur wraps), throng the shrines and temples which are surrounded by street food hawkers selling all manner of wonders from whole charcoal grilled fish on sticks to ramen.
One year we took the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo up to Nagano on New Year’s Day to visit the austerely handsome Zenko-ji Temple. Snowflakes settled soundlessly on unfurled umbrellas as we joined the column trudging towards the temple complex to make their offerings and to line up to earn a “ticket to heaven” by feeling their way down a narrow passageway in total darkness until they touched the “key of paradise”. The freezing cold wait was too long for this particular ritual, but I did buy a “Good Luck in Business” token and we tied our white fortune papers to the already festooned tree near the temple’s entrance.
Further south, the New Year’s festivities in Kyoto may lack snow but the city more than makes up for that with tradition and spectacular ceremonial, especially on New Year’s Eve. We joined the crowds at Rokuon-ji Temple with its stunning Golden Pavilion where the New Year’s spirit was in full swing, sampling every conceivable treat at the food stalls, buying our fortune papers from a special red box labeled “English fortune. Hard money, 100 yen, pay down” and tied them to the wishing tree, lit candles to success at school, business and family well-being, and bowed and rang the gong as we’d seen others do.
Our daughter dressed in the kimono she’d bought for dinner in the old quarter of Gion with its narrow walk streets, traditional wooden dwellings, and Chaya and Machiya (Geisha assignation houses). No hanama “flower watching” was in evidence, but as Sabrina sensibly pointed out “salarymen” surely needed to be with their wives and families on this night of all nights! A superb shabu-shabu set us up for the walk to Chion-on Temple for the 108 Bells that ring in the New Year. The ringing of the eighty-one-and-a-half-ton bell (the largest in Japan) started well before midnight and involved a miracle of overlapping ropes and elaborately choreographed teamwork from 17 of the temple’s Buddhist monks. At midnight the huge, well-behaved crowd hugged each other quietly and snapped photos with their cell phones. There were no shouting or high jinks, just a quiet, restrained mutual affection. How very Japanese I thought, as we set off in search of late-night temple snacks.