Essay first published in The Way We Play Magazine No.5

Feeling food?

We have food flashing by in our feeds, in a more or less constant stream. We lean back to look. And look. And look, at more or less appetising photos and videos of food. Still Life and sourdoughs. Side by side with cooking shows and pasta making. Now, something in this constant feed (pun intended) of never ending visuals of food feels a little like eating sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a month straight. Not that I don’t love sandwiches – I do – but there comes a point when you want to feel something else.

“Another visual doesn’t nurture your senses of taste and smell, it doesn’t fill your heart with warm fuzzines or prickle your tongue – nor does it capture the physical sensation of biting through a crisp pie crust or ice-ceam slowly melting in your mouth. Is there a possibility we are missing out on these sensations, feelings, on the hunt for ”the look”? ”

Food has always been visual, but lately maybe too much so? This might be contradictory coming from someone who’s favourite object to photograph is precisely that. However somewhere in between aiming for that perfect shot and sharing a kick-ass breakfast spread I think we, myself included, have forgotten an important aspect of food.

Being so focused on looking at it, through a lens or a screen, it is easy to lose the connection to the range of sensations that food can spark. The emotions connected to this. Another visual doesn’t nurture your senses of taste and smell, it doesn’t fill your heart with warm fuzzines or prickle your tongue – nor does it capture the physical sensation of biting through a crisp pie crust or ice-ceam slowly melting in your mouth. Is there a possibility we are missing out on these sensations, feelings, on the hunt for ”the look”?

Sitting down to write this, I thought about how the place I’ve felt the most eating is Japan. About how much I appreciate that at any random ramen place you enter they will ask you if you want your noodles soft, medium or chewy. How your preferred choice of rice will not only be dependent upon flavour, but also stickiness and how soft or hard the variety is. The point is, the only difference between a boiled egg or the lately hyped onsen-tamago is the texture, how it feels when you eat it.

Having stated the above, the recipe on the following page might not be a visual crowd-pleaser (and it’s probably not something that you would stop your scrolling for). However, similar to many other japanese dishes this is a dish you need to feel. A lot of the pleasure in eating it is the sensation in your mouth. Warm, soft and somewhere between a warm broth and scrambled eggs.Very much a dish you need to feel.

Chawanmushi with Chanterelles

serves 2

400 ml water (boiled down to ca 200 ml)
8 g konbu
5-6g katsuobushi flakes
30 g chanterelles (for dashi)
1 tsp soy sauce
2-3 pinches salt
5 g chanterelles
1 egg

Simmer the konbu and chanterelles in water for approximately 20 min. Pick out the konbu and mushrooms. Add the katsuobushi flakes to the hot water, let simmer for up to 1 min before straining through a sieve or cloth. You should now have approximately 200 ml dashi. Add salt and soy sauce, taste for saltiness. Set aside the dashi to cool. Rip the remaining 5 g of chanterelles into bite sized pieces and set aside.

When cool, gently whisk together the egg and 200 ml of dashi – be careful not to overmix. Strain the mixture through a sieve to get a silky smooth mixture. Pour into two oven safe cups, add the fresh chanterelles and place the cups into a steam basket. Steam for 12 min on low heat. Remove from steam and let cool slightly before eating.

Chawanmushi, literally means "tea cup steam”, more explanatory is to call it ”savory egg custard” (a flawed name in my opinion). It’s a soft dish that usually comes as an appetizer, part of a meal or on a breakfast tray - hiding inside are often seasonal or local specialties.