Scrolling through my phone’s photo album, I found this Tower of Tempura that brought back memories associated with this dish I recently had the joy of sharing with friends! The very beauty of the tower of battered tiger prawns reflects the beauty of having friends who are there not only to share so many dishes and plates of food with but also to share in life’s tribulations and celebrations.
Japanese food has always been associated with high prices and unduly consigned to be aspirational for those whose means do not match their desires. Of course, there are joints serving food masquerading as Japanese but, as they say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating and, unfortunately, a lot of these places fail to provide the proof!
The most unpretentious pretenders to be purveyors of Japanese cuisine can be found among the plethora of fast-food joints that dot any major city in the world. Most, if not all, are sincere attempts at creating a semblance of being Japanese by borrowing specific and conspicuous elements of the cuisine such as liberally coating various food morsels with flour batter and deep-frying them in whatever local fat is predominantly used in cooking. (Gets me thinking, could it be that they use clarified yak butter in Tibet and Mongolia to come up with their versions of tempura? Or, while at it, rendered whale or seal blubber in Alaska? Btw, Japanese use sesame oil, a light oil that does not distract the diner from the flavor of the food.)
The saving grace of these joints is that they also have unpretentious prices making their fare within reach of the hoi polloi giving the latter a faint idea and notion of what Japanese cuisine might be.
What really can be aggravating are those joints that believe their fantasy and consider themselves to be paragons perched on the ivory tower of Japanese haute-cuisine with the lofty prices to match their haughtiness when in reality, they won’t even make the grade at being a cheap izakaya in a little lane of a non-descript tiny Japanese hamlet.
But I digress. The tower of tempura that brought memories of the fun time with friends is surprisingly good; procured from an unpretentious food stall at a pseudo-food court at a reasonable price. The batter is light and crunchy owing to its being cooked at correct temperatures (cold batter, hot oil) that makes the batter explode into a puffy shell coating the food (in this case tiger prawns).
My only misgiving is that the accompanying dip is on the sweet side, which to my knowledge is not the way a tempura dip should be. Tempura sauce is made from a mixture of soy sauce, sweet rice vinegar, and a broth made with dried bonito and kelp. At the table, grated daikon (Japanese radish) is added to provide a dash of freshness. The resulting dip highlights the flavor of the tempura rather than overwhelm it; which is not the case with the dip that accompanied this tower of tempura.
Being more of a purist in terms of flavor, I tend to like food as prepared without masking or revising the flavors with dips and sauces. It is through this sparing approach that one gets to experience the nuances of the dish prepared by the cook. It is such a delight to capture hints of the various ingredients and spices used in the dish one is having and trying to deconstruct the flavor harmony created by combining various elements of the dish. (Is that tarragon or thyme or dill? Is it lemon or lime? Is it gouda or emmanthaler?)
For those who are more inclined to capture the essence of the food ingredients, another traditional dip for tempura is simply salt; a way of eating tempura that is very rarely seen outside of Japan. I had my share of the Tower of Tempura and ate it plain, not even complementing it with salt. To my delight, the portion I had tasted of pure prawn with a hint of its natural sweetness, perfectly steamed in its own juices within the enveloping crunchy flour batter that provided a counterpoint to the prawn’s delicate texture. This is the second time I had tempura from that stall and it was done perfectly well each time. They must have mastered their technique to be able to consistently deliver the same quality. Now, if only they could improve on their tempura sauce…
Tempura is so fundamentally representative of Japanese cuisine showcasing the purity and essence of, not only the cuisine, but of the culture and philosophy of Japan. Lots of people will be surprised to learn that this quintessential of Japanese dishes actually traces its origins to both China and the West (specifically Portugal and Spain).
Fried food was brought to Japan by Chinese Buddhist monks about a thousand years ago in the form of Togashi, a fried sweet delicacy used as temple offerings. Buddhism having become widespread in Japan, the people refrained from eating meat and eventually devised various ways of making plant-based food more palatable and enjoyable. One of those methods was frying vegetables and its derivatives (e.g. ground chickpeas, tofu, tauhu, etc.) to make them more robust tasting and also to create faux-meat dishes.
When the Portuguese and Spanish missionaries and traders landed on Japanese shores in the 16th century, they brought with them a method of cooking whereby ingredients were coated with a flavored flour batter which would be akin to present-day fritatas or fritos. The flavored batter was a bit too heavy for Japanese tastes, though, and hence, a truly Japanese innovation was incorporated by stripping it of flavor and sticking with the essential ingredients of flour, salt, egg, and water. This modification adhered more to the Japanese predilection to focus on the flavors of the ingredients rather than “enhance” with flavorings and spices; which, to the Japanese palate translates to masking the essence of the food.
Tempura’s etymology is vague and some attribute it to the Portuguese word “tempora” or “tempero;” the former referring to the the method of preparation and the latter with the practice of temperance by avoiding the consumption of meat. Whatever it is, the word “tempura” is now internationally known as synonymous with fried batter-coated seafood and vegetables.
I found NHK’s Begin Japanology video entitled “Tempura” on YouTube. It has a plethora of information and trivia on, you guessed it, tempura!
Going back to the Tower of Tempura, my friends and I had a great time, surely made more fun by having that plate of tempura to share. It was so much fun we had another serving to cap the night! Beautyful!
Bari Oishi, stall at the Pioneer Street Market on Reliance St., Highway Hills, Mandaluyong City, Philippines. Open from 10 a.m. till 10 p.m.
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A Beautyful Lyfe 