Untangling My Chopsticks (19 page)

Since Yasu had never tasted chocolate sauce, I had made a decadent sludge based on a recipe from my childhood. Gritty with sugar and almost black, it turns chewy when spooned over ice cream. For more sensitive palates, I had made a strawberry Grand Marnier sauce. Of course, everyone sampled both over vanilla Häagen-Dazs purchased from the Daimaru department store's food hall.

Tomiko served brewed coffee, and then we were done. The wine was gone. The chicken had been devoured. And Christian was crying. We said good-bye, did the dishes, then trudged up to bed.

Although it was close to 3:00 in the morning, I opened my Christmas box from my parents. Inside were lots of lovely things, including a navy-blue cashmere cardigan with matching velvet piping that had belonged to my grandmother. I held it up, then tentatively brought the fine downy wool to my nose. It still smelled like her.

Earlier that day, Yasu had given me a print made by one of his friends who decorated lacquerware. On a soft lime-green background, the artist had stamped intermittent rows of silver rectangles, then flecked the entire surface with silver and gold confetti-like specks. It was beautiful and something I would cherish forever.

In turn, I had given Tomiko and Yasu silly (but expensive) sake cups with rabbits inside, since it would soon be the year of the rabbit. The gift seemed meager compared to the couple's ongoing hospitality and generosity.

I was surprised to find that being away from home made the spiritual aspect of Christmas come alive, the part I so often for
got about in the frenzy of buying presents, trimming the tree, and going to parties back home. What made me dwell on it in Japan was that everyone simply celebrated the glittering image of Christmas. So the spirit had to come from within.

And it did. That night, surrounded by gifts from my family, the scent of my grandmother, and the friendship of a couple who had welcomed me into their lives, I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude and love. Although that Christmas could not have been farther from the ones I knew so well and grew up celebrating, it was the truest Christmas I had ever experienced. Lying there in the dark I felt tremendously blessed. And just a tad sick to my stomach. Could it have been the oysters?

This treasured holiday sponge cake resembles our American shortcake in that it combines white cake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. Since most Japanese homes do not have enough room for an oven, families rely on bakeries for this light sweet treat. If you wish, you can decorate the cake as they do in Japan with a small plastic Christmas tree, a Santa Claus figure, and a Merry Christmas plaque.

• 5 large eggs
  

• 1 cup granulated sugar
  

• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
  

• ¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
  

• 1 cup cake flour
  

• 2 cups whipping cream
  

• 2 tablespoons confectioners' sugar
  

• ⅔ cup naturally sweetened strawberry jam
  

• 10 fresh whole strawberries, hulls sliced off
  

1. Preheat the oven to 325° F. Coat two 8-inch round cake pans with nonstick spray.
   

2. Separate the eggs, placing the whites in a large bowl and the yolks in a medium bowl. Using an electric mixer, gradually beat in ⅔ cup of the granulated sugar with the yolks, until the mixture turns thick and yellow, about 5 minutes. Beat in the vanilla.
   

3. Using clean dry beaters, whip the egg whites in a bowl with the cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Add the remaining ⅓ cup granulated sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form.
   

4. Sprinkle halfof the flour over the egg yolk mixture. Using arubber spatula, gently fold in the flour. Fold in half of the whites, followed by the rest of the flour. Fold in the remaining egg whites and gently scoop the batter into the prepared pans. Bake 25 to 30 minutes, or until a wooden skewer inserted into the center of a cake comes out clean. Let the cakes cool in the pans, before turning out on a rack.
   

5. Whip the cream until soft peaks form. Sift the confectioners' sugar over the whipped cream and continue whipping until firm peaks form.
   

6. Using a serrated knife, cut each cake crosswise in half. Spread the strawberry jam between each layer, creating two layer cakes. Spread a thin layer of the whipped cream over the top of one of the layer cakes and place the other cake on top to create a single cake consisting of four layers. Frost the top and sides of the cake with the whipped cream, smoothing it with a spatula. Place the whole strawberries, cut side down, in a circle around the top edge of the cake.
   

Makes 1 four-layer cake, about 10 servings

It is important to finely grate the radish so that it turns into a soft wet slush. You can achieve this with a Japanese radish grater or one of the extremely sharp graters (often called microplanes) that have recently come on the market—they are long and skinny and are typically used to grate citrus zest.

• 3 tablespoons rice vinegar
  

• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
  

• 1 tablespoon finely grated daikon radish
  

• ½ teaspoon chili paste
  

• ¼ teaspoon sugar
  

• 3 dozen oysters
  

1. Combine the vinegar, soy sauce, radish, chili paste, and sugar in a small bowl. Stir until the sugar dissolves.
   

2. Shuck the oysters and arrange on a bed of cracked ice. Spoon a little of the sauce over each oyster.
   

Makes 3 dozen oysters

This recipe is adapted from
Essex County Cooks,
a collection of family-tested recipes from the friends, parents, and faculty of two Massachusetts-based elementary schools. While it was never clear who “Julia” was, her legacy lives on in this deep, dark, bittersweet chocolate sauce that makes a fabulous topping for ice cream, sponge cake, or cut-up fresh fruit.

• Four 2-ounce squares unsweetened chocolate
  

• 2 cups sugar
  

• ⅔ cup light cream
  

• 2 teaspoons lightly salted butter
  

• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
  

Combine the chocolate, sugar, and cream in a double boiler. Cook until the chocolate has melted and whisk vigorously to combine the ingredients. Whisk in the butter and vanilla and serve.

Makes 3 cups

11.

t was probably the chicken. Tomiko, Yasu, and I were hit with a bug that made us all feel nauseated and fluish. “Even Toro won't eat his food,” said Tomiko the next morning when she stopped by my bedroom to deliver John's Christmas gift. She was still in her bathrobe when she handed me the package, a padded brown envelope holding a beautiful gold bracelet etched with leafy garlands.

Merry Christmas Sweetbread,

The only thing I wish for is your happiness, if not while next to me then far away. Wear this bracelet and think of me thinking of you… and although Christmas is not quite as special without you, it warms me to think of you thinking of me.

I love and miss you.
Johnnycakes

Later that day we talked on the phone, which made everything seem just a bit more cheery. By the end of the week, everyone felt normal. What's more, we had regained our appetites. And that was important: Oshogatsu was coming.

The celebration of Oshogatsu is Japan's greatest holiday. Beginning on the eve of December 31 and ending on January 3, it is a time of great joy and renewal. Families prepare for the holiday, loosely referred to as New Year's, by thoroughly cleaning their homes and decorating them with auspicious items. They also pay off all debts—physically and socially—and prepare an elaborate feast.

In the business world, “year forgetting parties” take place before December 31, in order to clean the slate before the New Year begins. Alcohol, a necessary social lubricant, encourages workers to muster up the courage to complain to their bosses about problems they felt too inhibited to bring up during the year. The issues are discussed, resolved, and all is forgiven and forgotten. That way, when people return to their jobs on January 4, the stains from the past year have been scrubbed away, physically and spiritually.

Preparations for the home, such as decorating and cleaning, also begin several days before Oshogatsu. Most Japanese bless their homes with the same talismans, usually placed in a sacred area of the home, such as the alcove or front entrance.

Because Tomiko and Yasu's Western-style home had no alcove, they arranged their Oshogatsu display in the front entrance or vestibule. This is the same area in traditional Japanese homes
where people stand when they stop by to pick up or deliver something. Since visitors often do not go into the house, it is important the vestibule look attractive.

Yasu had paved their front entrance with smooth gray stones and placed a granite step opposite the front door leading up to the hardwood floor at the bottom of the staircase. A wooden cabinet running along the right side of the vestibule held shoes, boots, and other items. On top of this cabinet Tomiko had placed her
o-sonae
(honorable offering).