Alien Ingredient #21: Lotus Root

Don't ask me why I've never worked with fresh lotus root before; I've certainly had the opportunity many times over the past 30 years. My guess is that I have tasted it before in a hot pot and had written it off as another bland vegetable. Take a good look at these lotus roots to the left: they are not what you want to buy. See the discoloration? No bueno. I didn't have any choice in these really; they were all the store had when I needed them for a hotpot requested by a customer. Well, truth be told, I did have a choice; I could have bought pre-prepped ones in the deli section of the store, but I see no need to pay someone else for 30 seconds of work on my part.

It takes no effort at all to peel the roots and then slice them. They do start to discolor a bit after a few minutes, so it is a good idea to cook them right away or store them under water, just as you would a potato. And because they come from fresh water, it is a good idea to blanch them to make sure that you kill any bacteria or parasites that they may be harboring.

Lotus roots fall into my category of bland vegetables that I use for texture in a dish, right alongside water chestnuts, daikon, and jicama. They also braise very well and perhaps surprisingly, they make interesting chips/crisps in the manner of potatoes.

Vote: low in calories, low in flavor, high in cool looks—there's nothing much to love or hate about this mostly boring root.

Japanese Dinner

Here are the photos from a recent Japanese-themed dinner. The customer came to us with a menu in hand, so there wasn't a whole lot of wiggle room.

Salmon Sashimi with Pickled Daikon. Just a quick 24-hour pickle on the local daikon; thickened house-made ponzu on the plate. We let our ponzu brew for 48 hours before taking out the kombu and the hana-katsuo. We decided to use limes for the ponzu rather than bottled yuzu: fresh fruit tastes better, though limes taste different than yuzu.

Mushroom Mini Pizzas. The customer, having just returned from two weeks in Japan, says that mini pizzas are all the rage right now. We wouldn't know, but we do know how to make pizzas. You see hon-shimeji mushrooms (actually a mix of brown and white beech and pioppini) sautéed with a touch of garlic and ginger and finished with a splash of tamari. The sauce is soft tofu blended with ponzu. We thought it was a delicious touch bringing both creaminess and acid to the pizzette.

Yakitori. You see both chicken thighs and hearts skewered here, brushed with our house-made taré. We put the chicken in a soy- and ginger-based marinade for 48 hours. The taré sauce, based on chicken bones, took 48 hours to make and it has such a rich meaty sweetness. I couldn't find any cockscombs on such short notice; that would have been really cool as part of this dish. As it was, most of the guests didn't touch the hearts, which we happily snacked in the kitchen. The hearts are definitely the best part of this dish.

"Chirinabe". How do I tell a customer who is in love with a menu that we are not equipped to do a traditional nabe? I don't and I wing it, hence the quotation marks around chirinabe (fish hot pot). We just don't have the equipment to put communal hot pots on the tables (and the American customers would have freaked out at a communal pot anyway), so we blanched the vegetables and poached the black sea bass before plating them with a cup of boiling stock and small dish of ponzu for dipping. The garnishes, clockwise from the snow peas, are snow peas, daikon, enokitake, shungiku, sea bass, napa, tofu, and lotus root.

Purple Yam Custard. I wanted to finish with rice and then some fresh fruit. Customer wanted a dessert. So here is a pan-Asian dessert: a brûléed custard of Okinawa sweet potato, sesame seed brittle, and some fresh jackfruit in simple syrup. At least I managed to keep the dish non-sweet and sneak some fruit in too. The white flecks are sesame oil powder.