When I cook Japanese-style food, I rely heavily on my friends, the Three Musketeers. With all due respect to Three Musketeers’ fans, I’m not talking about Athos, Porthos and Aramis. I’m referring to Sake, Mirin and Shoyu.
Each one of them is known for its uniquely distinguished characteristics, and has individually established a solid position and saga of its own. Shoyu, or Japanese Soy Sauce, for example, plays such a vital role in Japanese food culture that I’ve devoted an entire posting to this awesome sauce (see my October 1st, 2008 posting, entitled Got Soy Sauce?). Yet, together as a collaborative unit, they are even more magnificent, accomplishing many savory victories together.
Despite their differences, they have one thing in common. They all help to mask the odor of fish and meat. Certain types of fish (even when fresh) have a fishy odor that is unpleasant to some people. The odor of chicken and other types of meats can often be uncomfortable as well, but if you ever get some game meat gutted and butchered by your hunting-loving friends or neighbors, it is definitely time to call in My Three Musketeers.
Another aspect, of their successful engagement as a team, is their role in creating a superb Teriyaki Sauce. The sauce is often used as a marinade, but Teriyaki is basically a method of cooking where you use the sauce to give the fish or meat a glossy sheen. Teri means shine or luster, and Yaki means to grill or broil. Mirin is basically responsible for this glazing effect, but it's the incomparable harmony and balance, attained by these three, that makes this sauce exceptional. Photo is of Buri (Yellow Tail) being marinated.
You can simply buy a bottle of Teriyaki sauce, but why bother when you can make your own, original homemade version. Besides, you should get acquainted with these Three Musketeers, simply because in the world of Japanese cooking, you'll be spending a lot of precious moments with them.
Now, like many homemade barbeque sauces, everyone seems to have his or her own secret, little recipe. The same can be said about Teriyaki sauce. Some people use Shoyu, Mirin and water. Sure, using water is cheaper than using Sake and perhaps some people just don’t like Sake. Some add sugar or honey to enhance the sweetness of the sauce. Adding sugar or honey is nice and sweet if you prefer it that way, but Mirin has its own, profound, complex sweetness that sugar just can not deliver. The Teriyaki sauce that we are about to create is plain and simple. In this sequel of making Teriyaki sauce, it’s all about the Three Musketeers and the double Gs (Garlic and Ginger) as the sidekicks.
Before making the sauce, let us briefly get acquainted with the three main characters. Since I already have a posting on Shoyu, let's focus on Sake and Mirin.
Sake
I’m a beer drinker and not a Sake drinker, but I use Sake extensively for cooking. The Sake I’m referring to here is a group of inexpensive, regular Japanese Sake and not your high-grade, premium ones. Some may consider this group of Sake as rotgut, but as long as it's drinkable, it’s good enough for cooking. A lot of Sake, produced here in the U.S., are reasonably priced; I usually buy my 1.5 liter bottle for less than two orders of Venti White Chocolate Mocca from Starbucks, but I’m sure it all depends on where you live and where you shop.
If the Sake is going to cost you more than $20 for a 1.5 liter bottle, you may want to think twice and drink it rather than use it for cooking. If you want to know more about Sake, you should check out John Gauntner’s website at www.sake-world.com. He’s one Haole (as they say in Hawaii) who knows Sake. By the way, Haole generally means Caucasian or foreigner in Hawaiian but just to be clear, I’m not using this term in any racially, derogatory way. In fact, I respect and admire the gentleman for his remarkable knowledge and expertise which, I think, is beyond many Japanese Sake buffs'.
Again, I’m no Sake drinker and I just use it for cooking, so I’ll leave the Sake-drinking aspect to Mr. Gauntner and move on. The reason I use Sake is, basically, 2 fold. First, as mentioned earlier, Sake helps to mask the odor of raw fish or meat, and second, it helps to tenderize them. Whenever I cook meat, I marinate them in Sake, sometimes with garlic or other marinade elements.
When I want to enjoy a nice, grilled steak simply with salt and pepper only, I soak the meat solely in Sake. If you soak it too long, the Sake will denature the meat, so limit the soaking action to less than 4 hours, and keep it refrigerated if you’re going to soak it for a while. I just don’t have the room in my refrigerator, with all the junk and beer cans, so I leave it out at room temperature for about 30 minutes or so.
Mirin
In modern day Japan, Mirin is commonly used in making stewed or grilled dishes, sauces and soup bases for Soba and Udon (Japanese noodles). Mirin is typically referred to as Sweet Cooking Sake, Sweet Seasoning Cooking Sake or Sweet Cooking Wine, in English.
Some claim that the origin of Mirin can be traced back to a very sweet, alcoholic beverage made from Sake. Although I have no evidence whatsoever, my gut tells me that some 1000 years ago, Japanese men used this beverage to get the ladies drunk. A few hundred years later, Rice, Kome-koji (malted rice) and Shochu (or also referred to as Soju) were used to refine this beverage. Shochu, the other indigenous, alcoholic beverage of Japan, is typically made from potato, rice or barley, but unlike Sake, it is distilled.
Mirin became a highly-treasured, alcoholic beverage but due to its honey-like sweetness, it’s been said that dudes back in the old days started mixing it (and get this) with even more Shochu to make a cocktail. While the partiers where getting drunk on Mirin, chefs at high-end restaurants started using it as a secret weapon in their cooking ventures. And what a secret weapon it was. Mirin not only adds a delicate sweetness to and enhances the flavor of other ingredients, it also helps to amplify the visual presentation of the dish, which is a very important aspect in Japanese cuisine.
Today, Mirin is basically made from Rice, Kome-Koji, and Shochu/other alcohol, and is a common Chomiryo (seasoning) in Japan, used widely in homes, restaurants and the food- processing industry. Like many products, you have your small family-owned operations that produce authentic Mirin the old-fashioned way, using selective ingredients, and then you have your big companies with mass-production capabilities.
When talking about Mirin, you'll come across the term Hon Mirin (本みりん). The term basically means true (real, original) Mirin and usually contains 13.5 ~ 14.5% alcohol. Because of the alcoholic content, laws/regulations, pertaining to alcohol, led some Mirin producers to create different varieties of it.
At one end of the spectrum, there’s a variety called Mirin-fu Chomiryo. The term, Mirin-fu Chomiryo, basically translates into something like Mirin-styled seasoning and contains less than 1% alcohol. Other varieties contain more alcohol, but salt is added to avoid the alcohol tax. Talk about Loop Holes - Salt is added so people won’t consume it as an alcoholic beverage, thus no alcohol tax is applied. For the most part, the term Hon Mirin is used to distinguish itself from these transformed versions of Mirin varieties.
Some may define and refer to Hon Mirin as that which is made the old-fashioned way, using only Mochi Gome (Japanese glutinous rice or sweet rice), Kome-Koji and Honkaku Shochu (the Real Shochu made via the traditional distillation method). Not any kind of Honkaku Shochu but a type called Kasutori Shochu, which is made with Sake lees (a by-product of the Sake-making process and not just dregs). Even in Japan, you’re not going to find Mirin (that uses Kasutori Shochu) just anywhere. This is the kind of Mirin you can drink - and actually appreciate the taste; today, only a few manufacturers make this type of authentic Hon Mirin.
Whatever the case may be in defining Hon Mirin, like true love, you’re not going to find Hon Mirin on every street corner. My motto is, sometimes any kind of love is better than no love at all, especially when you're in survival mode. If you can’t find Hon Mirin, do the next best thing and get whatever variety of Mirin that works for you. In the meantime, please continue your journey in search of true love.
Although it's not the Mirin with Kasutori Shochu, I did manage to find a bottle of imported Hon Mirin made only with glutinous rice, malted rice and Shochu. See label photo.
Some people may wonder...with the alcohol from the Mirin, why would you need Sake? I wondered about it, too and asked an Iron-Chef-type guy at a restaurant in Japan. According to him, Sake tenderizes food, where as Mirin does the opposite by helping food hold its original form. Okay, so as the song goes...it takes two, baby. And then, you add the power of Shoyu. Thus, the power of three = My Three Musketeers.
Ready? Let's make our Teriyaki sauce. Typically, I use exactly the same proportion of Shoyu, Sake and Mirin. Some people prefer more Shoyu and use up to twice as much. The Shoyu can be your regular (Koikuchi) shoyu or Tamari Shoyu (for more information on types of Shoyu, please refer to my previous posting on Shoyu).
The Teriyaki Sauce
In this case, I poured a 1/4 cup of each of the guys into a saucepan, with a few slices of ginger and crushed garlic cloves. Heat the sauce on medium-high and bring it to a boil; turn down the heat and simmer for about 5 minutes. After simmering, let it cool off a bit, discard the ginger and garlic and your sauce is ready. Pretty easy, huh? Just remember, once the sauce comes to a boil, turn down the heat immediately and let it simmer. You don’t want your Shoyu to boil too much and lose its aroma. At the same time, you definitely want to bring the sauce to a boil and make sure the alcohol from the Sake and Mirin evaporates if you don’t want your kids behaving like drunken sailors. After the sauce cools down, put the sauce into a container and let it settle in the refrigerator for about 3 hours. Shake or stir before using. The sauce can be used as a marinade, and/or added to meat or fish while cooking, or used simply as a condiment.
Now, if you want a thicker sauce, I usually add Katakuriko (potato starch; or regular cornstarch, as we know it in the U.S.) to the sauce right after I turn off the heat. Pour a spoonful of potato starch into a separate container, with a couple of spoonfuls of water and dissolve it before pouring it into the Teriyaki sauce mix (so that it’s easier to blend). Stir well and adjust the thickness to your liking. If you want it thicker, add a little more starch. Now you have a thicker Teriyaki sauce that can be poured onto a hamburger like ketchup. This is how I, personally, like my Teriyaki Burger. Photo is of my Teriyaki Burger.
If you have any sauce left, pour it into a jar or plastic bottle, and keep it refrigerated. It can be stored for up to about 2 weeks, but just be sure to shake it well prior to using it the next time around. I sometimes pour the remaining Teriyaki sauce into a new batch of Shoyu (about 3/4 of cup, often adding more garlic) and then refrigerate it. Once you become friends with these guys and understand their basic roles, experiment and try different variations, to create your own version, to satisfy your taste bud.
Remember the photo of meat soaked in Sake? Well, I grilled it and put the leftover slices in the refrigerator. The next day, I placed the slices on a piece of bread and poured on some of that Teriyaki sauce. It’s not a recipe or anything; I just wanted to use up whatever I didn't consume the night before. Yes, the art of cooking with leftovers. I just don’t have space in the refrigerator. You know, the beer thing and all.
As for the Sake and Mirin, store the bottles in a cool place. The flavor can diminish, over time, so try to use up your Mirin as soon as possible (once opened) or you can keep it in the refrigerator and it will last a little longer. We’ll cover the usage of Shoyu, Mirin and Sake more, in the future, so you’ll have a chance to use them up. What about storing Shoyu? You mean you haven’t read Got Soy Sauce?. Well, check it out when you have a chance because if you’re going to cook Japanese-style food at home, you want to become acquainted with Shoyu.
By the way, remember the raw Buri (Yellow Tail) soaked in Teriyaki sauce? This is what it looks like after it's grilled.
Good luck in your search for true love...I mean Hon Mirin. If you find it, be sure to share your story with the rest of us.
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