My first introduction to miso was at small traditional Japanese restaurants located on Columbus Avenue in New York City, circa 1970. Along with a simple salad, miso soup was generally offered gratis at the start of the meal. You’d sip directly from the bowl and then, using your ceramic spoon, scoop up the few small squares of tofu and maybe a frond of wakame seaweed resting on the bottom. Perhaps because there was “no charge” for the soup and salad, or maybe because of my rush to learn about what I imagined to be “real” Japanese food, I didn’t take this first course seriously.
Much later, I learned that miso soup is paired with plain rice, not salad, and that this combination is fundamental to Japanese food. It’s served at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, usually at the end of the meal, and often with an assortment of pickles. It’s simple fare, but at the same time, it’s Japanese food at the highest level of perfection. When served at the conclusion of a banquet, it represents the culmination of the entire meal. Miso is one of the most important pillars of Japanese cuisine, a force to be reckoned with and enjoyed.
On a trip to Japan with my husband in 2000, while in Kanazawa, we visited a shop that made artisanal miso. The business had been in the family for six generations, and still used traditional production techniques. What stands out clearest from that visit 20 years ago was the smell of the fermenting pastes held in giant cedar casks…a smell simultaneously rich, savory, sweet, dark…a smell that can only be captured by the concept of umami, roughly translated from Japanese as “deliciousness.” My passion for the taste of miso, the pursuit of understanding its uses in cooking, and an appreciation of its health benefits had begun.
Thank you, Lisa, for this wonderful edition on miso. The history of your involvement with miso is fascinating and the links you’ve provided are very helpful. The photos and the miso balls and dishes are works of art!