BBQurious

We had a wonderful dining experience a few days ago. Our friends, B and Y, who live in Hayama, hold a monthly get-together they call "Sunset Kitchen," in which they invite someone to cook a meal for 30 people or so. This time it was the turn of another friend, S and K, who live down the road here in Akiya, to play the role of the cooks. S has a couple of fields he grows on, so the menu included all kinds of dishes based on his organic harvest--including broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, cabbage, daikon, etc., etc., and a root called jinenjo, which is similar to taro. It was dish after dish, and all the vegetables had been picked earlier that day.

I was far too focused on the food to remember to photograph when the table was full, but was able to snatch this shot of the mid? after?math in between bites. It was just amazing; because it was mostly vegetables (some charcoal-grilled chicken wings and shrimp), we never got into that Thanksgiving type of daze, and just kept nibbling, chomping, chewing, dipping, gnawing, snacking, sipping and swallowing for a good three hours. S and K had also brought home-made miso and four kinds of home-brewed beer. (He doesn't drink but she does, so he makes it for her.)

It was topped off by charcoal-grilled mikan mandarin oranges. Someone said they'd heard of this being done in northern Japan, but no one had tasted one before. S grilled the tops and bottoms until they were charred. We peeled them while they were still hot and popped the segments in our mouths. It was like they had been injected with honey; the pulp had basically melted into a juice that was thick and sweet.

It ended with an auction of the remaining vegetables, and people walked off with daikon the size of mortar shells and cabbages the size of a sumo wrestler's head. S usually gives most of his harvest away since he doesn't want to sell it, so I've made plans to both head over and pick up some produce and learn how to make miso.