![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
If one exhibits a curiosity about food, there comes a time when one must step outside one's socially induced comfort zone or remain forever a captive of the same-old-same-old.
I ran across natto while doing some reading on heart-healthy foods. Natto consists basically of cooked soybeans that have been thoroughly colonized by Bacillus subtilis natto.
(If you feel your eyes glazing over at this news, permit me to ask a couple of quick questions: Have you ever eaten yogurt? Do you like bleu cheese (or cheese in general)? These foods are just as much the result of bacterial activity.)
Natto is eaten often in parts of Japan, typically for breakfast, with some cooked rice. Some add a little raw egg to the result - I have not gotten there yet - while others add some cooked fish. It's not exactly a Denny's breakfast, but I'm not a real big fan of Denny's breakfasts.
There is, in fact, is a geographic divide in Japan - I forget the exact details - among those who eat a lot of natto annually and those that don't. The ones that do apparently suffer fewer cardiovascular problems, over the long run, than those that don't touch the stuff regularly. Indeed, my reading suggests natto contains a natural "clot-buster" that is sold in health-food stores as 'nattokinase'.
Almost all sources agree on one thing: natto does not fall within the boundaries of the standard American dietary comfort zone. It looks kinda weird. When you lift a bean away from its companions, little strings of "stuff" follow it, much the same way cheese stretches between a freshly removed slice of pizza and the rest of the pie.
Finding natto in a food store is well-nigh impossible unless you live in a city large enough to be blessed with an Asian (or better, Japanese) market. There, it is sold in packages of three foam-plastic cartons, each with about an ounce-and-a-half of natto, a small blister of soy sauce, and an even smaller blister of mustard. (Besides its use as a condiment, I am told the mustard also overcomes any residual taste/odor of ammonia, which is a natto fermentation byproduct.)
I might well have never gotten actually gotten my hands on some natto had I not asked our former tenants, who are from Japan, about it. When I asked where I could find natto in Houston, the answer had a curious closing line: "A very professional question!" When I asked for a clarification, I was told that, over the course of their decade-long stay in the United States, I was the first American to evince an interest in natto.
They provided me with the address of a Japanese market not far from Natalie's new house, so while driving back from Natalie's place one afternoon, Galina and I stopped by and picked up a couple of packages.
I have never been shown how to prepare a natto breakfast, so I've just been doing what comes naturally. The beans themselves don't taste all that different than normal cooked soybeans, and if they are "slimy," as I've read in some descriptions, I haven't noticed it.
I've been asked if I eat natto as food (for taste) or as medicine (for benefit). Pills I take as medicine; I find natto to be a satisfying breakfast, and one that's quickly made if there are rice leftovers.
Nobody else in the family eats natto. Natalie tried, but didn't get too far. It's that comfort zone that everyone in the world has about food. I broke out of that zone back around the time I was dating Galina, as there are lots of people around the world who like to watch foreigners - Americans in particular - squirm about their food. My basic rule is: ceteris paribus, if you'll eat it, I'll eat it.
I've been tapping away at this while eating my first breakfast made with home-made natto, manufactured by thoroughly cooking dry soybeans and then mixing the contents of a commercial package with the cooled beans. (I'm told one can buy just the bacteria, as a powder, but prefer to do this in small steps.)
The resulting mixture is allowed to ferment at around 100°F-105°F for 24 hours, after which it's ready. I had a little trouble jury-rigging a suitable environment, experiencing an early temperature excursion up to 114°F (way high), after which I let the batch ferment for about 32 hours before disturbing the beans. The result was - despite my inexperience with other batches - clearly rather strongly fermented.
The home-made batch tastes pretty much like the commercial stuff. Now for the fun part of eating one's own home-made fermented product of any kind: let's see how I feel in a few hours. :)
Cheers...
UPDATE (12:22 pm): It's been nearly three hours, with nary a rumble. I's time for lunch, in fact....
I ran across natto while doing some reading on heart-healthy foods. Natto consists basically of cooked soybeans that have been thoroughly colonized by Bacillus subtilis natto.
(If you feel your eyes glazing over at this news, permit me to ask a couple of quick questions: Have you ever eaten yogurt? Do you like bleu cheese (or cheese in general)? These foods are just as much the result of bacterial activity.)
Natto is eaten often in parts of Japan, typically for breakfast, with some cooked rice. Some add a little raw egg to the result - I have not gotten there yet - while others add some cooked fish. It's not exactly a Denny's breakfast, but I'm not a real big fan of Denny's breakfasts.
There is, in fact, is a geographic divide in Japan - I forget the exact details - among those who eat a lot of natto annually and those that don't. The ones that do apparently suffer fewer cardiovascular problems, over the long run, than those that don't touch the stuff regularly. Indeed, my reading suggests natto contains a natural "clot-buster" that is sold in health-food stores as 'nattokinase'.
Almost all sources agree on one thing: natto does not fall within the boundaries of the standard American dietary comfort zone. It looks kinda weird. When you lift a bean away from its companions, little strings of "stuff" follow it, much the same way cheese stretches between a freshly removed slice of pizza and the rest of the pie.
Finding natto in a food store is well-nigh impossible unless you live in a city large enough to be blessed with an Asian (or better, Japanese) market. There, it is sold in packages of three foam-plastic cartons, each with about an ounce-and-a-half of natto, a small blister of soy sauce, and an even smaller blister of mustard. (Besides its use as a condiment, I am told the mustard also overcomes any residual taste/odor of ammonia, which is a natto fermentation byproduct.)
I might well have never gotten actually gotten my hands on some natto had I not asked our former tenants, who are from Japan, about it. When I asked where I could find natto in Houston, the answer had a curious closing line: "A very professional question!" When I asked for a clarification, I was told that, over the course of their decade-long stay in the United States, I was the first American to evince an interest in natto.
They provided me with the address of a Japanese market not far from Natalie's new house, so while driving back from Natalie's place one afternoon, Galina and I stopped by and picked up a couple of packages.
I have never been shown how to prepare a natto breakfast, so I've just been doing what comes naturally. The beans themselves don't taste all that different than normal cooked soybeans, and if they are "slimy," as I've read in some descriptions, I haven't noticed it.
I've been asked if I eat natto as food (for taste) or as medicine (for benefit). Pills I take as medicine; I find natto to be a satisfying breakfast, and one that's quickly made if there are rice leftovers.
Nobody else in the family eats natto. Natalie tried, but didn't get too far. It's that comfort zone that everyone in the world has about food. I broke out of that zone back around the time I was dating Galina, as there are lots of people around the world who like to watch foreigners - Americans in particular - squirm about their food. My basic rule is: ceteris paribus, if you'll eat it, I'll eat it.
I've been tapping away at this while eating my first breakfast made with home-made natto, manufactured by thoroughly cooking dry soybeans and then mixing the contents of a commercial package with the cooled beans. (I'm told one can buy just the bacteria, as a powder, but prefer to do this in small steps.)
The resulting mixture is allowed to ferment at around 100°F-105°F for 24 hours, after which it's ready. I had a little trouble jury-rigging a suitable environment, experiencing an early temperature excursion up to 114°F (way high), after which I let the batch ferment for about 32 hours before disturbing the beans. The result was - despite my inexperience with other batches - clearly rather strongly fermented.
The home-made batch tastes pretty much like the commercial stuff. Now for the fun part of eating one's own home-made fermented product of any kind: let's see how I feel in a few hours. :)
Cheers...
UPDATE (12:22 pm): It's been nearly three hours, with nary a rumble. I's time for lunch, in fact....
