The fundamental first step in any recipe that involves Japanese rice is to wash it. What most people don’t realize is that the starchy water that remains after washing is a surprisingly useful ingredient in the kitchen.

The primary use of togi-jiru (the starchy water) is to parboil dense vegetables such as tōgan (winter melon), gobō (burdock root) and daikon. Where parboiling in plain water tends to rob the vegetables of their flavor and nutrients, the natural rice oils in togi-jiru lock them in while they tenderize. Vegetables that are parboiled in togi-jiru are also ready to absorb flavors from subsequent simmering in seasoned broth — the secret to super-tender, deeply flavored wheels of daikon found in oden (stewed foods commonly eaten in winter).

Togi-jiru also has cosmetic uses: moisturizing (the creamy sediment does wonders for chapped hands) and deodorizing (it also removes the smell from your hands after chopping garlic, and curry and other odors from pots and pans).

Making togi-jiru

Place white rice in a bowl and cover it with cold water. Stir vigorously to release the excess starch. Strain and save the starchy water in a separate container. Rinse the rice again with fresh, cold water and save that second run-off water, too. For every cup of raw rice, you should get about two cups of togi-jiru as a byproduct.

Drain the rice well after the final rinsing and cook it as you would normally.

A glass jar with a good-fitting lid is the best way to store togi-jiru, which can keep in the refrigerator for up to 10 days. When togi-jiru is left to sit a few hours undisturbed, a white sediment begins to form at the bottom of the jar, leaving an almost clear liquid on top. This liquid is called uwazumi and can be poured off and used to water plants (herbs especially like it). For most home cooks, saving only the creamy and slightly oily sediment is the most practical way to store togi-jiru.

Once you have a few tablespoons of sediment, I suggest freezing it in an ice cube tray. That way, you can pop out one or two cubes (each about a tablespoon) whenever you need some togi-jiru.

If at any time the togi-jiru takes on a sour smell, it is a sign of fermentation. At that point, the togi-jiru will no longer act as a deodorizing agent, though it still helps tenderize vegetables.

In recent years, pre-washed rice called musen-mai (literally “no-wash rice”) has come on the market. I do not recommend it; the rice will still have some starch residue, making it gummy when cooked, but without the beneficial togi-jiru.

Broth-simmered tōgan

A member of the gourd family, tōgan is a summer vegetable. The curious naming is due to its appearance growing in the field: chalky white as though frost had fallen on it. By the time tōgan arrive in the market, however, most have been polished to reveal a bright green skin.

 

Peeled and prepped with a bit of togi-jiru, winter melon makes for a delicious treat in warm weather. | ELIZABETH ANDOH
Peeled and prepped with a bit of togi-jiru, winter melon makes for a delicious treat in warm weather. | ELIZABETH ANDOH

Serves 4

• 500 grams tōgan

• 300 milliliters (1 and 1/2 cups) togi-jiru

• 400 milliliters smoky sea stock (separate recipe)

• 2 teaspoons mirin

• 2 teaspoons usukuchi shōyu (light-colored soy sauce)

• 100 grams ground chicken (preferably dark meat)

• 1 tablespoon fresh ginger juice

• 1 tablespoon cornstarch

• 1 tablespoon water

• 1 scallion (trimmed and minced)

1. Cut the tōgan in half lengthwise to make it easier to remove the seeds and any spongy flesh surrounding them.

2. Cut the tōgan into 12 pieces about 5 square centimeters each. With a sharp vegetable peeler, trim away the outer, dark green skin and bevel the edges of each piece (beveling keeps the pieces from crumbling when simmered and provides a ledge for the sauce to cling to).

3. Place the tōgan pieces in a shallow pot just large enough to arrange them in a single layer. Add the togi-jiru and bring it to a boil over medium heat. Adjust the heat to maintain a simmer and cover the pieces of tōgan with an otoshi-buta (wooden drop lid) or cooking parchment cut in a circle. Cook the tōgan for about eight minutes or until tender — poke a few pieces with a bamboo skewer or toothpick; you should feel a little resistance.

4. Drain and quickly rinse away any starchy residue clinging to the tōgan, but avoid any extended soaking or the tōgan will become waterlogged, robbing it of flavor and nutrients. Rinse out your pot and place the tōgan back in. Then, pour the smoky sea stock over the tōgan and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Season with the mirin and usukuchi shōyu, then cover with a drop lid or cooking parchment and simmer until the broth is reduced by half (about three minutes).

5. Remove the pot from the stove, add the ginger juice and swirl to distribute. Allow the tōgan to sit for several minutes with the lid in place. As it cools, the flavor of the ginger and smoky stock is drawn into the tender pieces of tōgan.

6. Transfer the tōgan pieces to serving dishes but don’t dispose of the liquid in the pot. Add the ground chicken to this liquid, stirring to break up lumps until it appears crumb-like. Place the pot over medium heat and stir to keep the ground chicken from clumping. Cook for two minutes or until the liquid is clear and the meat is white. Skim away any clouds of froth.

7. Mix the cornstarch and water into a smooth paste before pouring it into the pot. Cook while continuously stirring, over medium heat until the sauce has thickened (about one minute). Spoon the sauce over the plated tōgan and serve garnished with minced scallions. This dish is typically served warm (rather than piping hot) and often with a spoon to make eating the sauce easier.

Smoky sea stock

The key to extracting sweet, smoky goodness from katsuobushi (bonito) flakes without releasing any fishiness is attention to temperature (not letting the stock boil) and timing (straining after just two minutes).

Makes 1 liter

• 15 to 20 square centimeters kombu

• 1 liter water

• 10 grams katsuobushi (bonito) flakes

1. Place the kombu in a sturdy, two-liter pot. Add the water and let the kombu soak for at least 10 minutes (or up to several hours if that suits your schedule better). Set the pot over gentle heat and — very slowly — bring it to just before boiling. Stop when you see small bubbles begin to break on the surface of the water and around the rim of your pot.

2. Remove the kombu (I suggest you set it aside to make tsukudani) and add half of the katsuobushi flakes to the pot. Do not stir; let the flakes infuse the stock for two minutes. If your flakes are very small and powdery, they may begin to sink. If your flakes are large and feathery, they will sit on the surface. Either is fine — just don’t stir them up.

3. After two minutes, pour the stock through a cloth-lined strainer (traditional Japanese chefs use fine-woven sarashi cotton cloth, but a double layer of cheesecloth works as well). Return the strained stock to the pot and set it over gentle heat. Once again, very slowly bring it to just before boiling, then add the remaining katsuobushi flakes to the pot and let them steep, undisturbed, for two minutes. Then, stir and strain immediately.

4. If you will not be using the stock right away, let it cool uncovered until it gives off no steam. Transfer to a glass or other non-reactive container, cover and refrigerate for up to three days. Freezing is not recommended as it destroys the smokiness of the stock.