日報

I made Pyen-lo nabe for the first time in a while.
I think the last time I made it was about 10 years ago.
It's a hotpot dish with napa cabbage, pork, and vermicelli noodles, made with dried shiitake mushroom soaking liquid as the dashi.

It's a very simple dish where you ladle it into your own bowl and eat it with salt and Ichimi togarashi (Japanese chili flakes).
You add so few seasonings that you wonder if it will taste good, but it was incredibly delicious.
It was so good I thought, "Wait, was it always this delicious?"

One thing I think I messed up on was making it in a small pot.
I definitely could have eaten it all if I'd made it in a large pot.

When I was younger, I preferred dishes with bolder flavors, so I think Pyen-lo nabe felt too simple and bland to me.
Pyen-lo nabe is a dish for adults.

It's an easy yet wonderful dish that lets you enjoy the natural flavors of the ingredients with just salt, so I highly recommend it if you're interested.

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Pyen-lo Nabe

Rehydrate 5 dried shiitake mushrooms in 600ml of water.
Put the soaking liquid directly on the heat, add as much napa cabbage, pork, and vermicelli noodles as you like, a drizzle of sesame oil, and Shaoxing wine.
Chop the rehydrated shiitake mushrooms and add them to the pot.
Serve in your own bowl, and add salt and chili flakes to your liking.

For the finale, adding rice or udon noodles is the best.
Add beaten egg and season with soy sauce and salt.
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When filming for YouTube, I often create prototypes beforehand to deepen my understanding. Although I sometimes shoot without prior preparation, filming goes more smoothly if things are decided in advance, so I basically create things exactly as prototyped.

During prototyping, I create quite freely, and then I refine or discard ideas repeatedly while discussing them with my filming partner, KONEGI, to make decisions. The actual shoot then involves executing those decided elements based on the results of the prototyping.

Most of the time, the prototyping leads to a better outcome in the actual shoot, but occasionally, I worry that I haven't surpassed the prototype.

I've noticed that this happens consistently when I'm "tracing" my steps. When I imagine my movements from the prototyping phase and act as if I'm tracing them, I feel like I won't be able to surpass it.

It's fine when I act "based on" the prototype, but it's risky when I'm acting as if I'm "tracing" the prototype.

It's difficult to put into words, but if the goal is set to be the same as last time and you act accordingly, then merely imitating the previous attempt becomes the only goal, and it feels like it turns into a cheap copy.

While it might just be a matter of mindset, prototypes exist to improve the precision of the actual shoot. If I feel like I'm just imitating the prototype in the main production, I need to be able to recognize that something is off.

I made capellini for a YouTube shoot, and it was absolutely delicious.

I remember thinking, "It's good, but I'd prefer something warm," whenever I was served cold pasta as part of an Italian course, so I’d always avoided making it myself.

I decided to try making cold capellini with super-fine pasta strands because it looks stylish and refreshing. But I was surprised by how delicious it was—even more so than I expected.

I made cold capellini with crab and scallops. Since the seasoning wasn't much different from my usual spaghetti dishes, I was worried it might taste bland, like a cold, non-spicy tomato pasta. But it wasn't bland at all; it was incredibly tasty.

Perhaps the pasta's firm texture from being chilled in cold water makes it easy to slurp down, much like soba or udon. It was so delicious and easy to eat that it could easily be a regular pasta dish during the hot season.

Starting kikkake has led me to try many different dishes, which has broadened my interests and allowed me to enjoy cooking and eating even more, and I’m very happy about that.

When you buy nice tableware, you can't use it until you make the food to put on it, so you think about what to make.

When you buy nice cooking utensils, you want to use them right away, so you end up buying ingredients to use with them.

Entering a hobby "from the outside in" (focusing on the appearance or tools first) is sometimes used in a negative sense, but I think it's a good thing.

If it motivates you to act, then the trigger doesn't matter, and whether the joy expands from the outside in or from the inside out is irrelevant.

When I was snowboarding in my youth, I think I admired the snowboarder look itself more than wanting to slide on the snow. And when I started playing guitar, I think it was more about wanting to be like my favorite band itself, rather than the music itself.

As I was writing this, I thought to myself, "Am I, perhaps, a bit of a fanboy?" The reason I seriously started cooking was because I started watching "Tomomi Ogura's Italian Pro Training Course" on YouTube, and I started buying the same cooking utensils that Ogura-san was buying. It seems all my triggers are pretty straightforward.

I started writing this intending to describe "entering from the outside in" in a positive light, but it ended up sounding like I was justifying myself.

...Well, anyway, cooking, tableware, and cooking utensils are all fun, and I can feel myself getting a little better, so I think entering "from the outside in" is a good thing!

Curries and soups taste better the next day because the flavors have had time to blend. When seasoning meat, you also let it sit for a while to let the flavors meld.

The word "najimu" (to blend/settle in) is ambiguous, and I don't really know what's actually happening, but I feel like I use it as a very important word.

I just changed jobs, and it will still take some time for me to settle in. I take my friends to my usual spot. All the familiar faces are here.

Now that I think about it, "najimu" isn't just used for cooking; it's also often used in communication. Indeed, when I'm having trouble fitting into a new environment, I feel like I think, "I haven't settled in yet."

I've heard that the reason stews taste better on the second day is because the ingredients, which have released moisture during cooking, absorb the broth as they cool. Even if you feel the broth in simmered dishes is a bit weak, if you let it cool, it will develop flavor properly, so you should resist adding more seasoning. Something like that.

In communication too, even if the first meeting doesn't feel particularly lively, the next time you meet, it's like, "Oh, it's been a while!" and you sometimes feel a stronger bond than you expected. Did we settle in after taking a break?

After studying, memories are consolidated by sleeping. After an argument, you calm down and discuss things. These kinds of situations also seem to contain an element of "najimu."

It feels like "najimu" is a pretty important keyword in daily life! I'll try to be more conscious of "najimu" in various situations.

Phew, that was close! I was typing an email to Mr. Sato from a client company, and as I briefly reviewed it before sending, I realized I had typed "Mr. Sugar" instead of "Mr. Sato." Good catch, me.

Because of my job, I often type cooking-related words, so "sugar" probably came up in predictive text before "Sato."

I've made countless mistakes in emails before. Like sending one without "sama" or getting a company name wrong. I've made so many mistakes I don't even want to remember, but among them, "sugar" is probably one of the cuter ones. Anyway, I'm glad I prevented it.

I use Gmail, and for about 5 seconds after sending, a "Undo Send" button appears. You can stop the email from being sent by pressing it, and it's saved me quite a few times.

What is it about noticing omissions or mistakes the moment you hit the send button? Why do you realize you've forgotten something the moment you leave the house and walk a bit? Does some kind of switch flip in your brain when you take the next action? I want to scold it and say, "Why didn't you notice sooner?", but I guess it's better to notice at all.

Compared to the despair you feel when you realize a typo the moment the "Undo Send" button disappears and it switches to "Sent," anything is fine as long as you prevent it beforehand.