Random Picture #206

Sometime in the last year that I was living in Tokyo (that's 2012 for those who aren't keeping track), bagna caude caught on as a food fad. The bureau for Japanese food fads must have decided that they needed a more expensive savory option in lean times in order to drum up some revenue for restaurants. This Italian "dip" usually is made up of garlic, butter, anchovies, and olive oil (among other possible ingredients including truffle oil and cream). The latter two are pretty pricey in Japan and the dish not only is hard on the hips, but can be a little rough on the wallet.

Muji, a chain of stores that specializes in simple-looking "generic" goods, has solved the issue of how hard it can be on your coin purse by offering a "bagna caude kit" for a mere 210 yen (about $2.10). You still have to provide the cream and olive oil, but they've got the rest covered. I wish to a small extent that I had bought this and tried it. However, never having had real bagna caude, I would lack the frame of reference from which to evaluate this instant stuff.

Muji Amashoku

When you think movie snacks, you're probably thinking popcorn, M & M's, chocolate-covered raisins, or some sort of candy that can be shoveled into your mouth in small bits such as to mislead you about the true amount you are consuming. You probably aren't thinking "Japanese baked goods", but this amashoku (sweet bun) was purchased for me to consume during a viewing of Mission Impossible IV: Ghost Protocol. 

I didn't plan to be so unconventional, but the theater we went to was fused with Muji (in what I'm sure was a painful transporter accident). If you don't want to look that up and don't know what it is, I'll tell you it is a worldwide seller of household goods, clothing, and other assorted crap that emphasizes minimalism. It's the "no brand" brand. The fact that it is considered "cool" always makes me smirk since I grew up poor and buying "generics" which were what no one wanted because of their plain black on white labels. If only they'd chosen a different color scheme (Muji's is black text on tan with deep red lines), they might have been painfully hip instead of fodder for people who knew the humiliation of shopping with food stamps.

Since Muji had a shop in the basement and first floor of the theater, we killed time before the main feature by perusing one of the shops. There is a minimum of 20 minutes of advertising and coming attractions and we were lied to about the starting time and subjected to 13 minutes of ads even though we waited until near the starting time. At any rate, since Japanese theaters allow you to bring in your own snacks (hurrah!), I was drawn to the compact packet of amashoku for a mere 126 yen. Each small bun is a little bigger in diameter than a 500 yen coin/American half dollar and a mere 27 calories. 

All amashoku is a little on the dry side, but not in a way which is especially unpleasant. It has a textural quality which crosses between bread, a cookie, and cake. It has the texture of the top of a muffin, the dryness of bread, and a bit of the delicate inner texture of cake. Really fresh amashoku that you buy in bakeries has a slightly crispy top. Pre-packaged types like this are pretty much soft all the way through, but that doesn't make them bad.

The flavor is of margarine, sugar and something that reminds me of anise at the end. It's a very distinctive flavor which I encounter with all sorts of amashoku, but I can't find anything in on-line recipes which would account for this taste. The basics are flour, butter, sugar, and egg. These were sweeter than some amashoku, but not too sweet and quite tasty. For a texture junky like me, they really hit the spot. 

Since Muji is worldwide, there's a chance that these can be bought in other countries at their shops. I was already a fan of amashoku, but they are on the "plain" side. If you're someone who likes carbs that aren't too oily or painfully sweet, I'd recommend giving them a try. I'll certainly have them again.