Drinking the Undrinkable

My host father comes from a small town in Southern Japan, one of those Hayao Mizaki-looking places where people talk country and grow their own food. His mother still lives there, and regularly sends big cardboard boxes filled with mysterious homegrown produce. Her care packages are a serious education; I'm familiar with Japanese cooking, but I can only ever identify about half of what she sends, and am always surprised by what my host family does with the few things I do recognize.

These mandrake-looking things are takenoko, or bamboo sprouts. Cooking them is a two-day process that I still don't fully understand, even after participating in it. You cut them, boil them in some kind of broth, leave them overnight, some other stuff happens while I'm at school, and in the end you have some small, crunchy pieces of root that taste a little like raw corn. I'm not sure if it's orthodox, but I like to plunk 'em in my miso soup.

The other day I came home to find the dining table covered with buckets of plums, and another full box of them sitting in the hallway. I stood there for a while, trying to guess what my host mother intended to do with them all, but I couldn't come up with anything feasible. Should you ever come into a windfall of plums, here is what you do: stick 'em in every available container and make you some syrup.

It might look a little swampy, but cut with some lemon water it's the perfect antidote to the sticky, oppressive heat of the rainy season. You can also make plums into a delicious brandy called umeshu. As a responsible student, I certainly wouldn't know anything about it firsthand, but sources say that it's pretty easy to make and the DIY version is a million times better than anything you can get at a bar.

Something else I bet you didn't know you could drink: shiso

Fun fact: red shiso is used in pickling umeboshi and is what gives them their dark red color!

Actual fun fact: one of my professor's Japanese friends lived in Belgium for a while, and once he was almost arrested because the cops mistook the shiso he was growing on his balcony for a pot plant.

As far as I know, though, you can't boil pot down into an all-natural, Barbie-pink beverage, and maybe that's a good thing.

I'm still undecided on this stuff; at first it's kind of sweet and bland, but it gradually builds in strength until it's so bitter it burns in the back of your throat. Most people mix it with sparkling water, but I think it could make for an interesting cocktail, for my parents and other persons over 21 years of age to enjoy in moderation.