Miso Magic

It never fails to amaze me how fermented soybeans stirred into a broth made of fish flakes and kelp is somehow deeply nummy. Although I was raised in a family of good cooks, being based in rural southern Iowa were green onions were considered specialty produce pretty much meant my exposure to the delights of miso came later in life. But I have embraced them wholeheartedly.

I just slurpped down a bowl of fat udon noodles with a few shitakes and some tofu that I'd let sit in a bit of dark sesame oil and soy sauce swimming in a miso-laced dashi. Less than five minutes of really doing anything in the kitchen and a wee bit of waiting. mmm.

On Sunday I also released miso magic on friends who came for dinner by pulling out a miso glazed salmon. It's a dish that I make for myself fairly regularly and the only "recipe" I've come up with that has what I consider a secret recipe (hint, it's not the miso). It makes me feel rather sneaky and clever. Also served as a starter a tricky cribbed from a copy of Food and Wine that was sitting around at Christmas: grind together corse salt and Lapsang Souchong tea and sprinkle on edamame. Goodness abounds.