Zen Gourmand

Yesterday afternoon was probably the most pleasant I have spent in Japan. I biked a pretty fair distance north and east, up to the mountain foothills where Nanzenji, a major Rinzai Zen monastery, sits. The temple was beautiful and I’ll share pictures later, but now I want to talk about the lunch I had. Next to the huge complex of Nanzenji is a another, far smaller, Rinzai temple named Choshoin.



This temple is famous for its traditional Zen vegetarian meals, known as yudoufu. There are several different meals of this type; another is ochazuke, which Kristen, Mom, Dad, and I experienced last year in Kamakura at another Zen-affiliated restaurant. The restaurant within Choshoin is known as Okutan, and includes both inside and outside dining areas. Although the hostess protested that it was hot, I chose to sit outside, and I’m glad I did.




Not only was it cool under the eaves and often pleasant with a light breeze, but the garden at Choshoin is a pleasure unto itself. I don’t think my photos quite capture it, but they can give you some sense of the serenity as one sits and eats at a languid pace, cicadas churring and black-and-white dragonflies dancing over the water.






Okutan offers two yudoufu set meals, plus a la carte options. I chose the more expensive yudoufu because I wanted to the full experience, and couldn’t say when I’d be back. Kiku, the eight-course yudoufu, cost 4725 yen, approximately $41—about two days’ food budget for me here normally, but we’re halfway through the month and I’m still flush so I thought I’d do it. And it was terrific, the meal was more than worth it. I did compensate a bit by not ordering drinks, sticking to the cool green tea that the server provided at regular intervals.

Now, unlike our friend Bree, I’m no chef and can’t describe to you either the preparation or the complex flavors of these dishes. So you’ll just have to let your imagination fill in what I can’t provide. The first dish was goma-tofu, a sesame-based cold tofu block that came sitting in a bit of sauce and with wasabi on top. You simply slice it neatly with your chopsticks and eat. The consistency was noticeably thicker than normal tofu and the flavor richer, and the wasabi added a nice contrast. We were off to a good start.



The second dish, hard on the heals of the first, was tororo. This is a grated yam soup, with soy sauce-flavored wheat gluten bits, served cold. You stir it up with the chopsticks and then drink it straight from the bowl—the Japanese rarely use spoons, preferring the methods of slurping that always got you in trouble with your mother. The soup was quite thick, almost porridge-consistency, and once again, tasty. I can’t recall what the bit of green herb was.



Course three arrived quickly too. It was fusansyu, three different types of flavored wheat gluten. The two dark kinds were most similar to wheat gluten I have eaten in Chinese restaurants in the USA. The little green-and-white leaf-shaped piece is almost like an especially thick piece of jello, though savory, not sweet. The third type came delicately wrapped in a leaf and tied with a piece of grass, reminding me of a tamale.



Unwrapping the leaf, I found a small ball of white wheat gluten. Considering how bland it looked it was actually surprisingly delicious. With all of these fusansyu, you just pop them in your mouth one at a time with chopsticks.



Course four arrived quickly too. Popping the top off I found yuba no takimono: bean curd film served in a medium-thickness sauce, with another piece of fusansyu and two sliced peapods. I found the texture more compelling than the taste on this one. You pick it up with chopsticks and eat it bite by bite.



Next up: namafudengaku. These are deep-fried gluten on sticks, with various miso sauce glazings. This was probably my favorite (is it a surprise the American liked the deep-fried dish best?). It was different than anything I’d eaten, tasted good, and was fun to eat. Each piece was a little different from the others, though I’m at a loss to explain how. Note: this was the only dish so far served hot.



Next up was the main event: the actual yudoufu. You can get this either hot or cold. Because it was a warm day, I opted for chilled, and it came with ice floating in the bowl. Technically, this makes it hiyasitoufu, rather than yudoufu, but no matter. Yudoufu consists of five large blocks of thick tofu. The gourd-shaped dish contains shredded seaweed, shredded leeks, and wasabi. You put these three flavorings into the smaller bowl of sauce (I don’t know what this sauce was—it was probably soy-based but was definitely not simply soy sauce) in the concentrations which you desire. Then you dip out a piece of tofu and put it into the small bowl, essentially basting it in the sauce. Using your chopsticks, you cut it into sections and eat it. This is all meant to be somewhat time intensive, forcing you to slow down and savor your meal, perhaps pausing after each block to enjoy the garden.



There are a couple of other items in that picture that ought to be identified. The short piece of bamboo is where Japanese restaurants put the receipt, which is typically given to you as soon as all the food finishes arriving. The taller pottery carafe holds shoyu, your basic soy sauce. And if you look closely at the yudoufu you may be able to see a small green maple leaf. This is for decoration, but they are also edible, and in the fall when they turn red the Japanese enjoy frying them up as tempura.

And speaking of tempura, that was dish number seven. These are all vegetables. From right to left (this is Japan, after all), you have a sheet of seaweed, onion, Japanese eggplant, endomame (a type of green bean, not to be confused with edomame, soy bean pods), a really delicious mushroom cap, and a slice of squash. It came with its own sauce, to the left. I’m a big fan of tempura. Just grab one with your chopsticks, dip it, and enjoy.




Finally, the meal ended with traditional rice (gohan) and pickles, the finish to any good Japanese meal. I poured a little soy sauce over the rice and tucked in. You eat rice with your chopsticks (it’s sticky), holding the bowl near your bowl. Two of the pickles were actually some sort of shredded vegetables, maybe seaweeds of some type.



The meal really was a wonderful experience, and probably the most filling I’ve had in two weeks despite the small portions. I told the hostess that it was fun and delicious, and that perhaps I’d return with my family next month. I left feeling really happy, and enjoyed exploring the charming grounds of Eikando, a major Pure Land temple, for the rest of the afternoon. But that’s another blog entry.