cook

In the mornings, when I am making noodles in my studio, I hear the frequent singing of mocking birds and wild tropical parrots that reside in the trees of Pasadena.  Since moving here two months ago,  I  am using one of the two bedrooms in our house as a soba studio. The studio faces my neighbors' fence, so there isn't much of a view, but it keeps my eyes on the noodles, and my ears  tune into the music of nature.

Fresh soba noodles made by hand.

The studio like the rest of the house is quiet; it stays cool all day, which is good for my dough.  Pasadena can get dry and hot in the summer and hot weather can quickly dry out my soba, and makes binding the dough very difficult.  It is a bit of a challenge but I keep my eyes on the humidity gauge and try to make soba when the humidity is in the 60s. 

The work table is where everything begins for a noodle maker.  I suppose it's like a painter's canvas. My table measures 42 in x 40 in x 30.  Sakai made it to suit my 5'4 height.  The table is made of simple plywood like many of the furniture in our house. Sakai made the table with just function in mind. But something that functions well has it's own aesthetic beauty.  I have set the table against the wall, so I can use three sides.  I measure and mix the flour and water, I knead the dough, I cut the noodles. I can store my large bowls and pots underneath.  I can roll out my dough as big as this table, if I want.  I do everything on this table except cook the noodles.  My rolling pins are stored in a box near the window. My books, soba knives and other utencils are on the side table  For art, I have Sakae's collage and Sakai's two watercolors.  Everything is visitble and within reach. 

Soba made with 20 wheat/80 buckwheat flour.