Chef Shiro Kashiba, whose eponymous restaurant is considered one of Seattle’s best for sushi, was barely able to contain his excitement. The 40-year sushi veteran stood frozen in mid-motion, his long, thin-bladed fish knife clenched in his hand. His eyes widened as he stared at three long, skinny plants, whose thumb-sized green-tinged rhizomes were crowned by long elegant stems topped with spade-shaped leaves.
“Is that wasabi?” he asked with surprise. Not quite believing what he was seeing, Kashiba cut off a stem and held it up to his nose and sniffed. Indeed it was.
Chris C. Jones, a farmer located in Lake Forest Park, a Seattle suburb, had harvested the wasabi plants just an hour before at his small place he calls The Frogfarm. Now, Jones was hoping to recruit Kashiba into grating a root or two and serving up the wasabi with Jones’ sushi dinner.
The chef needed little prodding. Fresh wasabi is rarely grown in the United States; it is even a scarce commodity in its native Japan.
Yet the American hankering for wasabi is almost as hot as its bright, sinus-clearing flavor. Top chefs like Paul Wildermuth of Saiko restaurant in Chicago uses “tons” of wasabi, both fresh roots shipped in from Canada and wasabi powder. He reserves the fresh for special presentations and expensive ingredi-ents, such as tuna belly or kobe beef, where the price can be justified.
Chefs use cheaper wasabi powders and pastes to enliven salad dressings, mashed potatoes and other foods. And, of course, sushi wouldn’t be the same without a little finger of green wasabi paste served along side.
Food manufacturers, always hip to trends, are looking to spike sales of salad dressings, mayonnaise, crackers, mustards and even peanuts with wasabi’s sharp flavor.
“It has kind of been like the ancho chili of the ’90s,” said Clark Wolf, a New York City-based restaurant consultant, trying to explain the appeal of wasabi.
“It clears your nose and makes your head sweat. It’s like a ride at Universal, a little hurts so good.”
The funny thing about wasabi is that though fresh roots and 100 percent wasabi pastes and powders are out there, much of what is dished out by restaurants or sold on grocery shelves is actually made with ordinary horseradish, called “seiyo,” or Western wasabi, by the Japanese. A little green food coloring makes it look like the real thing.
Difficult to grow?
Buying the fresh rhizome can be a pricey proposition. At Mitsuwa Marketplace in Arlington Heights, fresh wasabi costs $60 a pound when available. A single rhizome sells for about $11. Aficionados insist the price is worth it.
“Fresh wasabi is very mild, it is not as strong as horseradish,” said Gene Kato, co-executive chef at Japonais restaurant in Chicago. “It has that kick, like a typical America horseradish would have, but with Japanese wasabi the kick comes at the back of the mouth. You get a chance to taste the fish first and then that nice kick.”
Still, if the popularity of wasabi is growing, why isn’t more of the stuff grown in this country? Tradi-tional wisdom has it that wasabi, a member of the brassicaceae, or mustard, family, is too difficult or expensive to grow.
Author Elizabeth Andoh described the challenge of growing the plant in Japan in the now-defunct Mangajin, a Japanese-American magazine: “Wasabi is tricky to grow, primarily because it depends so much on natural circumstances,” she wrote. “For wasabi to thrive it must be constantly bathed in pristine, chilly water with just the right mineral balance.”
Chris Jones of The Frogfarm thinks this hard-to-grow talk is just part of the mystique built around wasabi. As a businessman working often in Asia, he would ask about wasabi and was told the plant had to be “grown on the highest mountains and in the purest stream.” That was enough for this amateur gardener to get busy and take up the challenge.
Frogfarm’s secret
Jones planted wasabi in various locations on his 2.5-acre farm to see where it would grow best. The back field, already home to a horseradish plant, various colors of Swiss chard, salad greens, onions and assorted berries, proved the spot. He found that shade is vital but running water isn’t. Frogfarm’s secret is a 55-year-old compost pile fed over the years by Jones’ family.
The other key is patience. Wasabi grows incredibly slowly and may take up to two years to grow a rhizome of marketable size, which is about 3- to 4 inches long and as thick as a man’s thumb. The rhizome looks like ginger but with a greenish tinge. The leaves are houseplant-pretty and look rather like those found on a hollyhock (the Japanese character used for the plant means “mountain hollyhock”). The base of the rhizome rests about an inch or so into the loamy soil, anchored by a tangle of white roots and small offshoots from the mother plant.
Pulled plants are carefully washed to remove any clinging soil. Offshoots too small to sell are returned to one of the six raised growing beds. The seeds are miniscule and difficult to propagate; Jones prefers to replenish the stock by dividing the plants.
Fresh roots are sold to a local grocery chain; live plants are shipped to curious gardeners across the country who order from Frogfarm’s Web site, wasabifarm.com. For Jones, who as president of China Pacific Ventures serves as a middleman for Asian fishing fleets working North American waters, wasabi growing remains a hobby. That may explain why he can take such a hardheaded look at fresh wasabi. Saying the root is more a “sensation” than a taste, he could just as well live without it, especially given the high price.
“For me it’s more of a novelty once-in-a-while kind of thing and I have tons of it,” he said.
Others, though, take fresh wasabi very seriously. Chef Shawn McClain of Green Zebra and Spring restaurants in Chicago finds fresh wasabi tastes a lot cleaner than the powder and has a more subtle taste.
“It’s such a pure flavor,” he said, contrasting wasabi’s “nasal” heat to the mouth scorching that chilies can give. “I think it’s a different way to add a real bang to your food.”
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Getting fresh with wasabi
Fresh wasabi may be rare and ex-pensive, costing $60 a pound or more if you can get it, but it has a refinement suited to the delicacy of Japanese cuisine.
The finely grated rhizome of the wasabi plant has more body and texture than the more common paste made from wasabi powder. The fresh gratings have a pleasant toothsome quality, a slight radishlike crunch.
Wasabi grated fresh introduces itself politely. There is a slight green vegetative quality at first taste–it’s pleasant–and then the heat begins to roll across the palate. The intensity builds slowly and never reaches the point of discomfort. If wasabi paste is like a race car, revving from 0 to 60 in seconds, real wasabi root is a stately Rolls Royce: The power is there but it never seems forced.
The delay between flavor and heat is short but vital, allowing the main ingredient–especially something subtle like raw fish–to shine unfiltered long enough to register. Then the wasabi kicks in as a supporting player.
One taste of fresh wasabi and it becomes immediately clear why all those Japanese sushi cookbooks insist wasabi should stand alone as a garni-ture instead of being stirred into the soy sauce. The fresh stuff never gets so hot that it requires dilution.
The difference between fresh and powdered was dramatically if inadvertently taught at Shiro’s, a sushi restau-rant in Seattle.
Chef Shiro Kashiba made sushi items using just-grated rhizomes provided by Chris C. Jones of The Frogfarm in nearby Lake Forest Park. Later, plates of sushi arrived dressed with a paste made with the powdered stuff. What a change. The paste began to burn on contact with the tongue and shot a sinus-clearing blast of heat straight up the skull. It had none of the elegance of the fresh root.
Bridgett Klingler, office manager of Pacific Farms in Eugene, Ore., a maker of a 100 percent wasabi paste, said the chances of diners finding real wasabi on the plate are “pretty slim.” The odds “continue to get better as we get our real wasabi paste into more and more restaurants across the country,” she wrote in an e-mail. Real wasabi paste is not fluorescent green, she said; it is closer to a yellow-green color.
–Bill Daley
Sashimi of tuna with oysters, fresh wasabi and yuzu
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Yield: 4 servings
– This recipe from Shawn McClain, executive chef of Green Zebra and Spring restaurants, calls for yuzu, a Japanese citrus, available at Japanese or specialty markets. Freshly squeezed lemon juice may be substituted. Mirin is a sweet Japanese rice wine low in alcohol used for seasoning and available in the Asian section of many supermarkets. Check with your local fish market for Kumomotos; substitute any small Eastern oyster if necessary. Fresh wasabi rhizomes are sometimes available at Mitsuwa Marketplace in Arlington Heights.
12 ounces sashimi-grade, center-cut tuna
1 tablespoon sea salt plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon cracked coriander/black peppercorn blend, see note
1 tablespoon each: vegetable oil, soy sauce, mirin
1 teaspoon yuzu or lemon juice
2 green onions, green part only, finely minced
12 Kumomoto or other small oysters, shucked
Fresh cilantro leaves
1 piece (1 inch long) fresh wasabi rhizome, peeled
1. Season the tuna with sea salt and peppercorn/coriander blend. Heat vegetable oil in a nonstick skillet over high heat until just starting to smoke. Place tuna in pan; sear on each side 8 seconds. Remove tuna; wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate 10 minutes.
2. Combine soy sauce, mirin, yuzu and green onions in a small bowl; set aside 10 minutes.
3. Remove tuna from the refrigerator; slice into 12 thin slices. Arrange on four serving plates. Sprinkle with sea salt to taste; garnish with oysters. Place the cilantro leaves around and on tuna.
4. Finely grate wasabi; whisk into soy mixture. Spoon over and around tuna.
Note: To make the coriander/black peppercorn blend, take equal parts black peppercorns and coriander seeds. Toast, stirring, in a hot, dry skillet until the spices smell aromatic, about 5 minutes. Roughly crack the toasted spices in a mortar with a pestle or on a board with a rolling pin.
Nutrition information per serving:
159 calories, 31% of calories from fat, 5 g fat, 1 g saturated fat, 62 mg choles-terol, 3 g carbohydrates, 22 g protein, 2,099 mg sodium, 0.5 g fiber
Wasabi potato salad
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 12 minutes
Yield: 6 servings
– This recipe is adapted from Gene Kato, co-executive chef of Japonais restaurant
Chicago. Japanese mayonnaise and fresh ohba (Japanese mint) can be found at Asian markets. Regular mayonnaise may be substituted for Japanese mayonnaise.
4 large Idaho potatoes, peeled, diced in 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 tablespoon wasabi paste
1 cup Japanese or regular mayonnaise
2 ribs celery, finely chopped
2 slices cooked smoked bacon, finely chopped
1/2 Spanish onion, finely chopped
1/2 Fuji or other apple, diced
1 tablespoon fresh ohba, minced
1/2 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground pepper
1. Cover potatoes with water in a medium saucepan over high heat; reduce heat to simmer. Cook until fork tender, about 12 minutes. Drain, spread on cookie sheet; cool to room temperature, about 20 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, whisk the wasabi paste and mayonnaise together in large bowl until evenly mixed; stir in celery, bacon, onion, apple, ohba, salt and pepper to taste. Serve at room temperature or chilled.
Nutrition information per serving:
474 calories, 58% of calories from fat, 30 g fat, 4 g saturated fat, 16 mg cholesterol, 46 g carbohydrates, 4 g protein, 490 mg sodium, 5 g fiber
Double wasabi brisket
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Marinating and standing time: 9 hours
Cooking time: 5 hours, 45 minutes
Yield: 12 servings
– An Asian take on barbecued brisket, this recipe, developed in the test kitchen, flavors the beef with wasabi powder in the rub and wasabi paste in the finishing sauce. The brisket can be cooked a day ahead, then finished with the sauce an hour before serving.
Rub and brisket:
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
2 tablespoons each: Chinese 5-spice powder, ground cumin, sweet paprika
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
1 piece (3 inches long) fresh ginger root, finely chopped
1 tablespoon each: wasabi powder, black pepper
1 teaspoon each: ground cardamom, ground coriander
1 beef brisket, first cut, trimmed, about 4 pounds
Finishing sauce:
3 tablespoons each: Thai sweet red chili sauce, wasabi paste, brown sugar
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/2 cup soy sauce
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard,
1/2 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground pepper
1. Combine rub ingredients in a small bowl; set aside. Place brisket in a 13-by-9-inch pan lined with foil overlapping by 7 inches on each side to allow the brisket to be sealed in the foil. Press spice rub into all sides of brisket; arrange brisket fat side up in the pan. Seal; refrigerate at least 8 hours.
2. Remove brisket from refrigerator. Set aside at room temperature, about 30 minutes. Meanwhile, heat oven to 350 degrees. Transfer brisket to oven; bake 1 hour. Reduce heat 275 degrees; bake until just tender, about 4 – 4 1/2 hours. Remove brisket from oven. Let stand minutes.
3. Meanwhile, for sauce, whisk together chili sauce, wasabi paste, brown sugar, garlic, soy sauce, mustard, salt and pepper to taste in a small bowl; set aside. Partially slice the brisket in thin slices against the grain, cutting almost through the meat but leaving the bottom attached. Pour sauce over brisket. Reseal foil package; return to oven. Cook until fork tender, 45 minutes-1 hour.
Nutrition information per serving:
299 calories, 40% of calories from fat, 13 g fat, 4 g saturated fat, 89 mg cholesterol, 14 g carbohydrates, 30 g protein, 1,553 mg sodium, 1 g fiber
Wasabi potato cakes
Preparation time: 35 minutes
Cooking time: 1 hour
Yield: 60 cakes
– This recipe comes from Paul Wildermuth of Saiko restaurant in Chicago. Panko bread crumbs are available in the ethnic aisles some supermarkets and in specialty and Asian markets. Use grated wasabi paste sold in tubes, or make your own paste by mixing water into wasabi powder following the manufacturer’s directions.
2 baking potatoes, peeled, coarsely chopped
1/2 yellow onion, coarsely chopped
1/2 bunch chives, chopped
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) butter
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/8 teaspoon each: sugar, salt, freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon wasabi paste plus more to taste
3/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup panko or other bread crumbs
2 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1. Place potatoes, onion and chives in a large saucepan. Add water to cover; heat to a boil over high heat. Cook until the potatoes are soft, about 20 minutes; drain. Put the potato mixture through a food mill or mash by hand.
2. Heat butter and cream in a saucepan over medium heat until butter melts, stirring occasionally, about 4 minutes; add to potato mixture. Season with sugar, salt and pepper. Add wasabi paste; taste and add more if desired. Let cool completely. Form mixture into 1-inch discs. Freeze until they start to harden, about 30 minutes.
3. Place cornstarch, bread crumbs and eggs in separate shallow bowls. Dip each potato cake in the cornstarch, then into the egg and bread crumbs. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Fry the cakes, in batches, until brown on both sides, about 2 minutes per side.
Nutrition information per serving:
48 calories, 67% of calories from fat, 3 g fat, 1 g saturated fat, 12 mg cholesterol, 3 g carbohydrates, 0.5 g protein, 23 mg sodium, 0.2 g fiber
