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Flour Days: Living and Kneading in Tsukiji (3)

Posted on March 1, 2010 at 3:36 AM


Zaru Soba  
Organic stone milled soba: Miyama, Gumma
Wheat/Soba ratio: 2/8  
Water: 42%  

-continued from Flour Days: Living and Kneading in Tsukiji (2)

GREETINGS FIRST
I got to the Soba Academy punctually at 930 am.  Akila Inouye, master chef of the Tsukiji Soba Academy and Master Chef greeted me. I was nervous.  I should be. It was the first   professional cooking course I ever signed up for. Akila Inouye got everyone's attention and said,  "Let's start with proper greetings."  So we all stood up and bowed in unison. 

I met Akila Inouye last summer, when I took the beginner's class in handmade soba. He had told me then about his plans to travel to the US to do soba demonstrations in Dallas and New York in the fall. I suggested casually then that if he could make a stopover in Los Angeles, I would try to organize a soba workshop. One thing led to another and we made it happen. We ended up doing four soba workshops in Santa Monica. We completely sold out. (here is the link to my blog about the Soba Workshop 2009). So I had initiated myself as a soba maker in 2009. I was hooked by soba. Maybe it was fate that brought me back to Tsukiji.

From hereon, I will call Akila Inouye, simply Akila. It is not common in Japan to address your teacher by his or her first name but since I called Akila in the US, Akila it shall be. Akila introduced me to his assistant Kotorii. He was a young man in his early thirties who completed the professional course last year.  His name means "Where the little bird lives". It was a little mismatched for someone who was nearly six feet tall. He smiled; we bowed again.

The school provided me with a bandana and an apron.  The dress code was "comfortable clothes."  I have never travelled so lightly, as I did on this trip. All I packed was my Favorite Ts from the Gap and a few pairs of jeans.   And two pairs of shoes.  A pair of street shoes and a pair of sneakers to wear in class. Chapstick was my basic make up. Soba was turning me into a minimalist.

There were supposed to be two other students in the comprehensive soba course besides myself.  I was looking forward to meeting them but they had cancelled for various reasons.  Ever since the subprime mortgage crisis happened in the US, Japan has been equally hit by this global recession. My sister, Fuyuko's pastry school, which she runs out of my parents' house, was  struggling from lower attendance lately. She has had to modify her classes. I wondered if the Soba Academy was experiencing something similar. While the Academy's weekend and evening classes were easier to get people in, the professional course was a bigger financial and emotional commitment. 

For those who want to pursue a profession in soba, by the way, there are different ways you can go about it in Japan. In my case, the goal was to learn how to make good soba by hand, and taking it as far as I can. The possibilities were infinite, including going the professional route. However, it did not seem practical at my age, (you can guess I have parents who are in their eighties) to start out as a lowly apprentice in a soba-ya.  I was thrilled to find a school that can show you the whole spectrum of soba making styles, allow you to make your own choices, and even help you network and find work as a soba maker.  Plus, for the entire month, it would be a two-on-one class.  It was hard to believe the course was going ahead as scheduled with just me. 


WHERE IT ALL BEGINS 
Being a course about making soba, we naturally spent a good chunk of the time talking about mixing flour with water. Sensei draws beautiful charts and pictures on the board, and writes very legibly.  (I later learned that he was a graphic designer/lettering artist before switching full time to making and teaching soba.)  WIth soba, no dough is the same. Humidity, the quality of flour, the speed by which the mixing and kneading is done, the amount of water added to the water, Kasuiritsu; even 1 % of extra water could dramatically change the quality of the soba. Soba is really a living food.

Making dough was something familiar to me from childhood. I remember how fun it was to play in the sandbox, make mud pies, or build sand castles at the beach or play with clay.


Sifted flour


Playing with dough has always had a calming effect on me. There was my mother's dough, which she used to make apple pies. What impressed me about her dough was the enormous amount of butter she used.  She never measured. She didn't even go by a recipe. Yet, when it came to how much water to add to the dough, she was very careful. I believe she even used a measuring cup. She instinctively knew what can make or break a pie crust.  


Sifting the flour


LESS IS MORE

Trying to figure out the optimum amount of water to add to the flour, Kasuiritsu, is one of the critical tasks in soba making.  In January, Tokyo was drier than the rest of the year, ranging from 25% to 35% humidity. So the amount of water we used to make soba ranged between 41% to 45%. Most of the time, we stayed around 41-42%. We relied on the scale and the measuring spoon. A small error  can ruin your soba and your day. There was no formula for figuring out the optimal amount of water for making soba.  Experience helps. Akila said he did not believe in adding more water than necessary because it affected the flavor and texture of the dough. Less is more, he kept saying. All I wanted at this point, was to turn out something that looked like dough, and not a crumbly mass of flour.


LET THE FLOUR TAKE A JOURNEY

After the greetings and lecture, Akila made one batch of soba to demonstrate h is technique. I stood next to him and watched his hand movements.  With soba, the initial mixing of flour with water is done mostly with your finger tips.  Like a piano player who is playing with his finger tips standing on the keyboards. the soba maker too moves the tips of his fingers quickly, making sure that there is no flour that is sitting still.  The hand movements are circular, fingers spread apart. My hands are small to begin with so it isn't easy to keep the flour moving in the large bowl. "Let the soba take a journey," Akila would say. It reminded me of the old saying, "Send your loving child on a journey." which means that the child will mature better by learning to stand on his own feet. Same thing with soba.  The only diffference was that soba had to take the first part of this journey in 30 seconds.

 



The fingers moves quickly to bind the flour with water. 


LET'S NOT WASTE FOOD

Any flour that was stuck on the fingers were wiped off and combined with the dough in the bowl. The whole idea of cleaning the bowl and removing the flour on your finger tips  were to keep flour waste to a minimum.  In class, we used a large and heavy stainless steel bowl. I could hardly lift it.  The traditional soba bowls, Hachi, are made of wood and are much lighter and more beautiful but Akila explained to us that it is difficult to find a tree trunk that is suitable for making a Hachi, bowl, plus the life span of such bowl is not very long. The stainless steel bowls are friendlier for the environment and more sanitary.


Once the initial mixing was done, the next step was to continue mixing but this time with the heel of your palms.  This step ensures that every cell of buckwheat is fed with water and there are no dry cells left. As you work the flour, you can feel the moisture in the flour building.  The smell of buckwheat is slightly yeasty. Now I am ready to bunch the flour together and start kneading, Kone.


GLUTEN FREE 

Buckwheat flour contains no gluten. Gluten is the Latin word for "glue". It is the glutens in wheat flour that gives kneaded dough its elasticity. So how do we bind soba if there is no gluten?   


When flour is mixed with water and kneaded, the process adds strength to the dough, elasticity and helps bind the flour together wihtout relying on gluten.   At the Academy, we practiced making 100% buckwheat soba, Kikouchi, and Nihachi, 2:8 ration of all-purpose wheat flour and buckwheat flour, and some other variations. I found Kikouchi the tastiest of all Soba. 2:8 ratio was by far the easiest to handle while retaining good flavor and adding some elasticity to the dough.



s.  

  The Flour combined with water is darker and mosit.

It is gathered in the middle of the bowl and ready to be knead.

 



I will talk about more about kneading, next in Flour days: Living and Kneading in Tsukiji (4)

 



Categories: Noodles, Pasta and Dumplings

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