Author: kamys

How to Make Miso at Home

Can it be that simple?

Miso is an ingredient I grew up with, but I never saw my mother making miso at home.  When one of my tea ceremony friends told me she makes miso at home from scratch once a year, I said, ”Oh, please let me join you when you make it next time!”  The day has finally come!

There only three ingredients needed to make miso: Soybeans, rice koji, and salt.  Koji is fermented rice, and you can buy one even in the US.  My friend was kind enough to purchase all three for me so all I needed to bring was my pressure cooker and containers.

My friend soaked soybeans in water overnight.  One kilogram of soybean were swollen up with water!  Even after draining excess water, it weighed over 2 kg. 

I put the soybean into the pressure cooker, added water, and cooked for 20-30 minutes, until the beans became so soft that I could squeeze it easily with my fingers. 

Once the soybean was cooked, I drained the water (but kept it in case I needed to use it later), and put it into the food processor.  You can also mash it with your hands.  For how long?  Well, I like my miso to have a little crunchiness, so I mashed it not too fine. 

In a large bowl,  I mixed 1 kg of Koji and 400g of sea salt well by hand.  Then I added the mashed soybean and mixed it all together.  You can add the water you put aside at this point if the dough is too dry. 

The containers used for storing miso should be sterilized.  We used vodka and sprayed it inside the containers. 

The dough is ready to be stored in the containers.  The key point is to pack the dough so tightly that there is no air pocket in the dough.  With too much air pocket, black, unwanted mold will grow.  You don’t want that.   

Seal the top with a wrap to avoid contacting the surface with air.  Once sealed tight, store it in a dark and cool place for 4 months.  After 4 months, mix it from the bottom and pack it tight again.  I can start enjoying the miso after 6 months.

The process was simple, but a big question is if it will turn out well in 6 months… Let’s see!

After making miso, my friend treated me with this wonderful lunch.  The miso soup is, of course, made from her own home-made miso! Many thanks to my dear friend!

Power of Hope

We’ve seen it again in this disaster

On New Year’s Day, people’s celebratory mood was shattered in Japan.  Every time I watched the news on TV, the death toll was increasing.   NHK and other networks as well as YouTube videos showed horrible scenes. 

Watching these videos at home, all I could feel was helpfulness.  Nature doesn’t care if it’s New Year’s Day or not.  It doesn’t care if the city has a long history of impeccable Urushi lacquerware making.  It doesn’t care how many of the family members lost their lives.

No matter how far we humans have come to establish more convenient, comfortable lives over the millennium, one shake of the ground can destroy all that we have built.  We humans are powerless.

But one Facebook post by Takashi Wakamiya, who leads a group of Urushi lacquer craftspeople in Wajima, the city almost flattened by the earthquake, has given me power. 

However, even in these tough circumstances, I believe that artisans will try their best to respond to any work orders they receive.

At Hikoju Makie, we want to provide work to these artisans before they lose their spirit in the aftermath of the earthquake, hoping to connect them to a future of hope.

Even though somebody loses everything in a disaster such as an earthquake, as long as s/he has hope, s/he can restart, and rebuild, from nothing.  Hope in his/her heart has no physical element itself, but it is the source of power to create something. 

Japan has encountered numerous natural disasters in its long history.  Wakamiya-san’s message has reminded me of the power of hope, that my ancestors have always resorted after each disaster. 

Let me believe that I also have that power in me. 

Life and Sweeping the Floor

Is there any similarity between the two?

It’s an early Saturday morning. Raining.  Is it mist or cloud covering the sky?  My husband is still in bed.  I go downstairs, pick up a dry mop, and start sweeping the hardwood floor in the living room. 

Although the floor looks clean, after several trips back and forth between the walls, the mop collects cotton-like dust, strings of long hair, and other small particles (breadcrumb?).

It’s my weekly chore, for sure, but I kind of like this monotonous movement of my body. 

No matter how thoroughly I sweep today, the floor will be filled with the yucky-looking things again.  Is cleaning, like sweeping the floor, such a hopeless action with little value added to one’s life?  Then why do I like it?  Why do I refuse to hire somebody to do this chore for me?

“Life decreases or keeps constant its entropy by feeding on negative entropy.”  This is a concept introduced by Nobel-laureate physicist Erwin Schrödinger in his 1944 book “What is Life.”   

When I heard this sentence on a podcast, I found out why I like sweeping the floor.

Cleaning is an act of decreasing entropy.  It’s an analogy of life. By cleaning, I must have been experiencing what it means to live. 

My Way of Saluting Japan’s National Flag

Snowy White with Baby Breath and Orchid

Japan – America Society of the State of Washington celebrated its centennial anniversary on November 28.  For that occasion, I was asked to make a large ikebana arrangement to welcome guests at the entrance. 

The first thing I decided was the colors of the flowers I would use – no other than bright red and snowy white!  The only two colors to represent Japan’s national flag.  At the wholesale flower shop, a bunch of amaryllis, just about to bloom.  That’s it for the red!  For the white, I chose orchid and baby breath. 

The next step was to select the vase.  The round container with a smaller mouth.  With this shape of the vase, you can place two long branches to cross each other inside it, enabling a large structure. 

The photo above shows when I placed two long branches in the round vase.  Both branches are dry, and I spray-painted one of them for a change.  These dry branches come in handy when creating a large structure, so I keep them in the garage.  My husband thinks I hoard so much junk in the garage.  Well, honey, somebody’s junk is a treasure for somebody else.

The arrangement was well received at the celebration party.  I really liked it too, so when I brought it home I rearranged it, took a photo, and also made this year’s greeting card. 

I Wish you a happy 2024!

Completed!  Now I Enjoy This Wearable Art

We Love Kimono Project 11

Finally, the whole process of Yuzen 友禅 kimono dyeing process was complete.  Now time to sew both the kimono and the obi.

Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer, said that ideally I should see the final status of the kimono and obi fabric before they were sewn respectively.  He also told me it would take about a month to complete sewing.  I couldn’t stay in Japan that long, so I asked him to go ahead and start sewing. 

Please make sure that both the kimono and the obi are completed by the time I go back to Japan.  Then I can bring them back to Seattle.  He agreed.  At least Mamiya-san sent me photos of the kimono fabric hung from the Iko and placed my obi on top of it. 

So here is the final kimono and obi. 

What do you think?  Do I look fine?  I’m just honored to be wearing this piece of art.  So many craftspeople were involved in making it.  So much love and devotion are poured into it.

This is the end of We Love Kimono Project.  Thank you for reading till the end.  I’m not sure if or when I can have my kimono and obi made in this process again.    I know for sure, that I will cherish this jewelry of silk.

Kinsai 金彩 and Embroidery 刺繍: Yuzen’s Last Process

We Love Kimono Project 10

The dyeing process is over, but the Yuzen 友禅process is not complete yet, said Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer.  What else is there, you may wonder.  So did I.

…

According to Kosaka-san, the kimono maker, there are two more processes.  One is Kinsai 金彩, and the other is Shishu 刺繍.

Kinsai 金彩 literally means decoration with gold.  On top of the design colored with Yuzen resist dyeing, a craftsman applies ultra-thin gold film or paste mixed with fine gold powder.  Nowadays, not only gold but silver, platinum, and other metalic colors are added.

Shishu 刺繍 is a Japanese word for embroidery.

Both Kinsai and Shishu add three-dementional aspect to the colorful but flat design of Yuzen dyeing.  If you fill with too much Kinsai and shishu, however, the design will lose its original elegance and turn to a flamboyant but ungraceful pattern. 

Where to apply Kinsai and Shishu, how much, and how, so that the design achieves the ultimate depth without losing its elegance… every Yuzen kimono maker strives for the perfect combination.

Kosaka-san’s choice was to add some silver paste and embroidery with silver thread on top of the Islamic design.  Culculating how the light reflects on the kimono design when worn, he knows exactly which part should be decorated with such shiny objects. 

There is no manual, textbook, or algorithm for this work.  I doubt if Artificial Intelligence can ever perfect this work.

Mamiya-san told me that this design on the photo is not the actual design that will be on my kimono.  When Kosaka-san dyed the kimono fabric, he drew the same design on the edge of the kimono fabric, which usually has some buffer in length. 

Knowing this edge will be cut off and not used when the kimono is finally sewn, Kosaka-san is using this pattern as a place where he can experiment. The final design shown on the kimono may be slightly different from this, said Mamiya-san.

…

By the way, did you notice that the kimono fabric has fine stripes across it?  This fabric type is called ro絽.  After every odd number of weft, like 3, 5, or 7, two warp threads are crossed over, creating small gaps between the weft.

The summer in Japan is hot and humid.  You want the fabric to be as airy as possible.  Ro is one of the solutions for keeping you cooler. 

Irosashi 色挿し – Freehand Dyeing

We Love Kimono Project 9

Jizome 地染, the process of dyeing the kimono fabric with the base color, is complete.  The Fuse-nori 伏糊, the paste applied onto the designs to resist the base color to penetrate the fabric, has been washed away.  The Itome 糸目, the finely drawn design, is still intact on the fabric.  At this stage, the craftsman moves on to the next step: Irosashi色挿し.

Irosashi 色挿し

Iro 色means colors.  Sashi 挿しmeans to apply.  In this process, the craftsman directly applies different colors of dye onto the fabric using small brushes.  Bordered by Itome, one color is not mixed with the neighboring color.  Like freehand painting, the number of colors to be used is almost limitless.  That’s the distinct characteristics of Tegaki Yuzen 手描き友禅.

With the medashi of my obi right next to the Itome design of the kimono fabric, the Yuzen craftsman decides which color to apply where.

Depending upon the size of the area, s/he uses different sizes and shapes of the brush.  For creating gradation, s/he uses a flat-tip brush.  Since this Islamic Flower design is so fine, the craftsman mainly uses brushes with pointed tips.  


Once the irosashi 色挿し is complete, the fabric is again steamed and then rinsed with water.  This time Itome is washed away along with the excess dye.  The lines created with Itome are now shown in white. 

I placed the photo of the medashi of my obi (left) and the one of the Yuzen pattern of my kimono (right) next to each other.  The shape of the design and the color gradation are almost identical, but the outer circle is more prominent on the kimono fabric.  This subtle difference gives the illusion that the two designs are somewhat different whereas harmony is still maintained. Very cool, Kosaka-san.  I like the way it turned out.

Fuse Nori 伏糊 and Jizome 地染…Techniques of Dyeing Kimono Fabric

We Love Kimono Project 8

Fuse-nori 伏糊: Covering with paste

Once the Itome-oki 糸目置 is complete, the craftsman moves on to the process called fuse-nori 伏糊. 

Fuse-nori is a mixture of sticky rice, rice bran, salt, and water.  Its texture is thick like a paste.  The craftsman applies the fuse-nori evenly to cover the whole area where the Itome-oki, the paste-dyeing, is done.   

S/he then sprinkles sawdust on the fuse-nori.  The covered area with fuse-nori and the sawdust is left intact when the rest of the fabric is dyed with the basic color.

Jizome地染: Dyeing the basic color

The next step is to dye the fabric with the base color.  This is called 地染jizome.    

The standard length of a kimono fabric is about 12 – 13 meters, or forty feet.  The craftsman first clamps both ends of the fabric and hangs it across.  A very long room is needed for this process. 

S/he places bamboo sticks in an arch shape across the short side of the fabric, so that the tension of the sticks keeps the fabric straight.  About two hundred sticks are used.  Once the fabric is hung long with its surface stretched flat, it’s ready to spread the dye.

Using a flat brush, the craftsman swiftly spreads the dye so that the color is spread evenly all through the fabric.  Mamiya-san’s design has this river-like flow.  The craftsman implements a special technique called bokashi暈し to shade off the wisteria color at the border. 

Both spreading the dye evenly across the long fabric and shading off the color naturally require a high level of skills, acquired only with experience. 

The craftsman spreads the dye on both the front and the back side of the fabric.  On the back side, you can see the bamboo sticks spreading the fabric with the tension.

Mushi 蒸し：Steaming

Once the basic color is applied, the fabric is left to dry.  Then the fabric is folded loosely and put into a small enclosure where it is steamed at a high temperature for twenty to fifty minutes.  The darker the color, the longer it takes to steam.  This way the color of the dye seeps into the yarns of the fabric thoroughly. 

Mizumoto 水元 : Rinsing off with water

Once the fabric is steamed, it’s time to wash away the excessive dye and fuse-nori. 

In the old days, one would see kimono craftspeople washing their kimono in the Kamo River and other rivers around Kyoto.

Contamination of the river water, however, became a major concern.  In 1971 washing out the kimono fabric on the river water was completely banned. Yuzen makers had to create an alternative method. 

The photo above shows how the washing-out process is carried out today.  Kyoto has abundant underground water.  Now the water is pumped through the well into an indoor pool.  The water used to wash the kimono fabric is treated before it flows back into the wastewater system.

Tegaki Yuzen 手描友禅 Process – How Kimono is Temporily Sewn to be Dyed

We Love Kimono Project 7

With the Medashi of my Obi complete, Kosaka-san, the kimono maker using Tegaki Yuzen, a hand-dyeing method, started his work of making my kimono.

Tegaki Yuzen 手描き友禅 is a resist-dyeing technique that became fashionable at the end of the seventeenth century in Japan.  Applying paste dye directly to fabric to prevent color transfer to other areas, Yuzen technique enables freehand designs with multiple colors.

Sketch the Design

The first step is to sketch a design on the white fabric using aobana ink.  Extracted from commelina communis, also known as Asiatic dayflower, aobana ink is soluble in water.  The two photos above are Kosaka-san’s sketches on the kimono fabric.

Following the Islamic Flower design of Katsuyama-san’s medashi of my Obi,  Kosaka-san adds his own interpretation to the Yuzen design.

It may not be obvious from the photos above, but did you notice that the white fabric is already sewn together?

Kimono fabric is long and narrow.  It is cut into eight pieces and sewn together in the shape of a kimono.  The design pattern of a Homongi runs through different pieces.  In order to make sure that the design patterns align perfectly across the different fabric parts, the eight pieces are temporarily stitched together before sketching the design.  After the sketch with aobana ink is done, the pieces are disassembled and stitched back together to the original long, narrow shape.

The sketch with aobana ink is complete.  Kosaka-san disassembled and stitched back the kimono fabric into the long narrow shape.

Itome-oki 糸目置

The next step is to directly place paste dye on the lines of the aobana ink sketch. 

Similar to how a baker uses a pastry bag to decorate a cake, the craftsman squeezes the paste dye out of the nozzle.  The very small nozzle makes it possible to dye very thin lines with precision.  Unlike aobana ink, the paste dye is, literally, dye.  It can’t be washed away once placed on the fabric.  One fumble can mess up the whole thing. 

It requires years of practice to squeeze out paste dye in a consistent way to dye such fine lines.  This process is called 糸目置Itome-oki.  Itome means “thread pattern,” depicting the very fine lines like a thread.  This is the most distinctive feature of Yuzen technique.

Do I Live up to My Name?

In response to Dancing Elephants Press Prompt week 51/52

“What is your name?” “My name is Akemi.”

In Japanese, however, the question doesn’t end there.  Always there is a second question: “How is your name written?” 

The Japanese input method editor I use on my computer lists the following different combinations for a name “Akemi.”

明美, 昭美, 朱美, 暁美, 曙覧, 朱海, 明見, 曙美, 朱実, 明海, 曙海, 朱見…

The list is not exhausted, but is only of examples of how “Akemi” is commonly written.   　

That’s because there are many Kanji characters with different meanings that are pronounced the same way.  Depending upon which Kanji character is used, the meaning of the name is different.

Let’s break down my name… It’s Ake + Mi.  The first part has one Kanji character, and the second has another. 

Ake 明 … This character means bright.

Mi 美… This character means beautiful.

Yes, my name literally means “bright and beautiful.”

Although my name was not that unusual, whenever I was asked to explain how my name is writen in Kanji characters.  I always had to answer with sarcasm.  Who would introduce oneself as “I’m bright and beautiful?”

Do I live up to my name?  I don’t know.  But at least I’m assured that my parents had some kind of expectation of me…