2011年1月26日 星期三

For true taste of Japan, try 'udon,' foodie says

For true taste of Japan, try 'udon,' foodie says



photoAyao Okumura (Asahi Shimbun file photo)

A Japanese culinary expert is adamant that thick "udon" noodles so beloved in Japan originated in this country, not China.

Ayao Okumura, a food expert specializing in traditional Japanese cuisine, recently released "Nihon Menshoku Bunka no Sensanbyakunen" (The 1,300 years of noodle-eating culture in Japan) from the Rural Culture Association Japan.

The 552-page book covers the history of the role noodles play in Japanese culinary culture. In researching the book, the 73-year-old Okumura crossed Japan for inspiration and knowledge.

The book explains the origin of udon, which is made from wheat, as well as regional specialties of the dish and ways of preparing and eating the food.

Okumura sat down with The Asahi Shimbun to discuss noodles. Excerpts from the interview follow:

* * *

Question: What's the truth about the origin of udon?

Answer: According to one theory, the Buddhist priest Kukai (774-835) brought it back from China during the Heian Period (794-1185). But I believe udon originated in Japan. When Kukai went to China to study, it was not a common practice under Tang Dynasty to cut noodles with a cooking knife.

Besides, I found a record that shows that "kirimugi," a type of noodle that came from China, or "hiyamugi" as we call it now, was eaten in Kyoto in the early 1200s. It can be assumed that udon derived from kirimugi. The word udon first appeared in a document dated 1351 that is kept at Horyuji temple, so it seems that the Japanese were eating udon noodles in the early 1300s.

Q: I didn't know that hiyamugi was the forerunner of udon.

A: An entry in a diary written by a Kyoto aristocrat during the Sengoku (warring states) Period from the mid-1400s to the mid-1500s introduces "yu-somen," a type of thin noodle served in a bowl filled with hot water and accompanied by a dipping sauce. It is the equivalent of today's "kamaage udon." It is a unique way of eating noodles that only is found in Japan.

However, somen and kirimugi noodles, which are thicker than somen, get soggy when they are left too long in hot water. So, a very thick noodle meant to be served in hot water was introduced, and it was called udon.

You can enjoy the flavor and aroma of the noodle itself, or, more specifically, wheat, when you dip it in sauce. The sauce is only supplementary; it makes the taste of the ingredients even better.

In my opinion, the basic philosophy behind Japanese food culture is to appreciate the taste of ingredients and to take full advantage of their flavor with the help of "dashi" soup stock without relying on fat and oil.

Q: It is said that udon tastes better in Osaka, and soba, in Tokyo.

A: I think it has something to do with water quality. There are no entries that refer to udon menus in Tokyo in books and documents written in and after the middle of the Edo Period (1603-1867). Either "zaru" or "mori" chilled soba was mainly served in Tokyo. They served soba in Osaka, too, but Osaka soba was unpopular among people in and around Tokyo.

Canal transportation developed in Osaka during the Azuchi-Momoyama Period (1573-1603). Water was merely a way of distribution, and its quality came second. Writer Takizawa Bakin (1767-1848) wrote that the "water in Osaka is no good." So, Osakans had to boil their noodles and serve the dish in hot soup. Thin soba noodle turn soggy when heated, so udon, which is thick, became popular.

But the Togugawa Shogunate focused on ensuring water for domestic use when it built the city of Edo, the forerunner of Tokyo, and it constructed the Kanda Josui and Tamagawa Josui aqueducts. So the water quality was good.

It had been considered cool in Edo to eat chilled zaru or mori soba by dipping the noodles into a sauce. It was possible because of the good water quality when rinsing noodles. Besides, Edo was in and close to good soba-producing areas such as the Kanto region and Shinshu.

You could knead soba dough and immediately roll it flat and cut it into thin slices, and prepare noodles in a short boiling time. That went well with the mentality of the Edokko (people born and bred in Edo). So soba became popular.

Q: What did you learn from your noodle-eating tour?

A: I interviewed, took notes and did a lot of research during the two years I went around Japan. When I read a collection of books and documents written during the Kamakura Period (1192-1333), I learned that entries about kirimugi and somen noodles appeared earlier than previously perceived.

Japan is blessed with various climatic conditions, and each area has particular specialties. Thus, they developed food culture based on their traditions.

The same thing can be said about the noodle-eating culture. Homemade noodle cuisine must meet all the requirements: It must be easy, quick and cheap to prepare, and be tasty and nutritious at the same time.

But it is important for noodle dishes served in restaurants to look nice. For example, Sarashina soba, which is made from refined buckwheat, is white in color and very smooth. But it doesn't include the bran that contains nutrient components such as rutin and GABA. So, as far as nutrition is concerned, homemade noodles are higher in value.

Q: There are many ways to eat noodles.

A: Areas that have many kinds of noodle cuisine are not appropriate for rice cultivation. That is because those areas can only produce wheat and buckwheat.

But they offer a wide variety of cuisine using the two. People may have fewer options for food, but they have made an effort to create menus that are rich in variety so they wouldn't grow tired of their daily meals. I'd say, "They are free because they are restrained."

Recently, dietary habits in farming and fishing communities have begun to match those in the cities. With their food cultures homogenized, they have fewer opportunities to prepare traditional noodle cuisine.

But homemade noodle dishes are very nutritious, and have nurtured the body and the mind of those who eat them. I'd like to shed light on the value of the noodle culture again.

Udon (饂飩?, usually written as うどん) is a type of thick wheat-flour noodle popular in Japanese cuisine.

Udon is usually served hot as noodle soup in a mildly flavoured broth, in its simplest form as kake udon, served in kakejiru made of dashi, soy sauce (shōyu), and mirin. It is usually topped with thinly chopped scallions. Other common toppings include tempura, often prawn or kakiage (a type of mixed tempura fritter), or abura age, a type of deep-fried tofu pockets seasoned with sugar, mirin, and soy sauce. A thin slice of kamaboko, a halfmoon-shaped fish cake, is often added. Shichimi can be added to taste.

The flavor of broth and topping vary from region to region. Usually, dark brown broth, made from dark soy sauce (koikuchi shōyu) is used in eastern Japan, and light brown broth, made from light soy sauce (usukuchi shōyu) is used in western Japan. This is even noticeable in packaged instant noodles, which are often sold in two different versions for east and west.



In China, similar thick wheat flour noodles are called cū miàn (). This original udon was 2 to 3 cm in diameter, a flat pancake-shaped "noodle" added to miso-based soup. The Japanese character 饂飩 is easily confused with and different from the modern Chinese characters 餛飩, which refers to wonton dumplings, not noodles. In Chinese, udon is called wūdōng or wūdōngmiàn, sometimes wūlóngmiàn. (Note that this is unrelated to Oolong tea, 烏龍茶 wūlóngchá.)

The origin of udon in Japan is credited to Buddhist priests who traveled to China: local areas specifically attribute Kūkai or Enni. Kūkai, a Buddhist priest, traveled to China around the beginning of the 9th century to study Buddhism. Sanuki Province claimed to have been the first to adopt udon from Kūkai. Enni, a Rinzai Zen monk, went to China in the 13th century; Hakata claimed to have produced udon based on Enni's recipe.[citation needed]

Common udon dishes

Kake udon
Kitsune udon
Yaki udon
Supermarket udon, similar to Ramen

Like many Japanese noodles, udon noodles are served chilled in the summer and hot in the winter. Toppings are chosen to reflect the seasons and to balance with other ingredients. Most toppings are added without much cooking, although some are deep-fried. Many of these dishes may also be prepared with soba.


  • Kake udon (in Kantō) or Su udon (in Kansai): Hot udon in broth topped with thinly sliced green onions, and perhaps a slice of kamaboko.
  • Kitsune udon: "Fox udon". Topped with Aburaage (sweetened deep-fried tofu pockets). A favorite in the Kansai region, particularly Osaka.
  • Tempura udon : Topped with tempura, especially prawn, or kakiage, a type of mixed tempura fritter.
  • Tanuki udon ("Raccoon-dog udon") (in Kantō) or Haikara udon (in Kansai): Topped with tenkasu (deep-fried tempura batter).
  • Tsukimi udon: "Moon-viewing udon". Topped with raw egg, which poaches in the hot soup.
  • Wakame udon: Topped with wakame, a dark green sea vegetable.
  • Karē udon: "Curry udon". Udon in a soup made of Japanese curry. May also include meat or vegetables.
  • Chikara udon: "Power udon". Topped with toasted mochi rice cakes. A hearty dish.
  • Stamina (sutamina) udon: "Stamina udon". Udon with various hearty ingredients, usually including meat, a raw egg, and vegetables.
  • Nabeyaki udon: A sort of udon hot-pot, with seafood and vegetables cooked in a nabe, or metal pot. The most common ingredients are tempura shrimp with mushrooms and an egg cracked on top.
  • Kamaage udon: Served in a communal hot-pot with hot water, and accompanied by a hot dipping sauce of dashi and soy sauce.
  • Udon-suki: Udon cooked in the manner of sukiyaki.
  • Yaki udon: Stir-fried udon in soy-based sauce, prepared in a similar manner to yakisoba. This originated in Kitakyushu of Fukuoka Prefecture. (Note that while yakiudon is made with udon, yakisoba is not made from buckwheat soba, but with steamed Chinese-style ramen.)
  • Misonikomi udon: Hard udon noodles simmered in red miso soup. The soup generally contains chicken, a floating cracked raw egg that is stirred in by the eater, kamaboko, vegetables and tubers. The noodles are extremely firm in order to stand up to the prolonged simmering in the soup; additionally, the noodles do not contain salt, so as to avoid over-salting from the salt in the miso.
  • Houtou udon: a local dish of Yamanashi Prefecture, a type of miso soup with udon and plenty of vegetables.
  • Ninja udon: a local dish of Iga-Ueno in the Mie Prefecture. Udon in soup, with a selection of meats (usually beef, tempura and aburaage) "hidden" in the noodles, like ninja.


Tororo udon: cooked dried Tamba blackbean (kuromame) udon noodles with grated yamaimo

Boiled gyoza dumplings

JAPANESE HOME COOKING: Boiled gyoza dumplings for the Chinese New Year


photoBoiled gyoza dumplings (Provided by Katsumi Oyama)

TODAY'S DISH is boiled gyoza dumplings, or "sui-gyoza," which light up the festivities of the Chinese New Year. The handmade dough offers a rich texture. "If you prefer more chewiness, increase the proportion of strong flour," says chef and restaurant owner Tomoshige Ichikawa.

INGREDIENTS (makes 32 dumplings)

Dough: 120 grams flour (hakurikiko)

80 grams strong glutinous flour (kyorikiko)

1/3 tsp salt

90-110 cc water

Filling: 150 grams ground pork (buta baraniku)

100 grams shrimp (shells removed)

100 grams Chinese cabbage

20 grams Chinese chives (nira)

20 grams green onions (banno negi)

10 grams ginger

Seasonings: 1/3 tsp salt

1 Tbsp sake

1.5 tsp soy sauce


2 tsp sesame oil

Sauce: 2 Tbsp soy sauce

1 Tbsp vinegar

Sesame oil

1 tsp finely chopped ginger

Garnish: 1 bag pea sprouts (tomyo)

Strips of yuzu citrus zest


Sift flours into a bowl and add salt. Pour in water and mix. Knead well on a board until the dough surface is powderless and shiny. Let rest for 30 minutes in a plastic bag.

Cut pea sprouts into 3 cm pieces, wash and drain.

Chop Chinese cabbage and chives, finely chop green onion and ginger. Place shrimp in a bowl, add salt, katakuriko starch (both not listed) and wash by hand with a bit of water. Pat dry and chop.

Place ground pork and shrimp in a bowl, add seasonings other than sesame oil and mix until sticky. Add vegetables and sesame oil and mix. Place in a flat, square container and divide into 32 equal parts. Place in the fridge.

Shape dough to resemble a long stick, and slice into 32 pieces. Place each piece with a cut side down. Dust with flour (not listed) and press flat with your palm. With a rolling pin, roll into a flat circle 6 to 7 cm in diameter.

Place filling in the center, fold over and pinch to close edges. Boil dumplings in a large pot for 4 to 5 minutes. Check doneness. If cooked through, drain and serve on a plate with yuzu zest on top. Immerse pea sprouts in remaining hot water, drain and serve beside dumplings. Serve with sauce.

* * *

From The Asahi Shimbun's Okazu Renshucho column

Spicy Braised Sweet Potatoes

Brill braised in vin jaune, smoked pork and broccoli

Recipes for Health

Spicy Braised Sweet Potatoes

Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times

This recipe is adapted from one in “The Glorious Foods of Greece,” by Diane Kochilas. The sweet potatoes, seasoned with lots of paprika and cayenne, are simmered with onions on top of the stove.

Recipes for Health

Martha Rose Shulman presents food that is vibrant and light, full of nutrients but by no means ascetic, fun to cook and to eat.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 large red onion, halved and sliced thin across the grain


2 garlic cloves, minced

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon sweet paprika

1/2 teaspoon cayenne (more to taste)

2 tablespoons tomato paste

4 large sweet potatoes (about 3 pounds), peeled and quartered or cut in sixths if fat

1/2 cup dry white wine

Water as needed

Note: Sweet potatoes may be labeled as yams. Look for dark orange flesh.

1. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large, heavy lidded skillet or Dutch oven. Add the onion and a generous pinch of salt. Cook, stirring, until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 30 seconds to a minute. Stir in the paprika, cayenne and tomato paste, and cook, stirring, until the tomato paste turns a rusty color, about one minute.

2. Add the sweet potatoes, and stir for about a minute until coated with the onion and spice mixture. Add the white wine, enough water to cover the sweet potatoes halfway (1 1/2 to 2 cups), and salt to taste. Bring to a boil, lower the heat to medium-low, cover and simmer 30 to 40 minutes until the potatoes are tender and the sauce thick. Taste and adjust salt.

If the sauce is still watery once the sweet potatoes are thoroughly cooked, do not adjust salt right away. Carefully remove the sweet potatoes to a platter using tongs. Turn up the heat, and reduce the sauce until thick.

Adjust salt, and pour the sauce over the sweet potatoes. Remove from the heat, and let stand for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.

Yield: Serves six.

Advance preparation: You can make this a day or two ahead of serving; reheat gently on top of the stove or in a medium oven.

Nutritional information per serving: 233 calories; 5 grams fat; 1 gram saturated fat; 0 milligrams cholesterol; 41 grams carbohydrates; 7 grams dietary fiber; 128 milligrams sodium (does not include salt to taste); 4 grams protein

Martha Rose Shulman is the author of "The Very Best of Recipes for Health."

The Long Pull of Noodle Making

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

Peeling noodles at Sheng Wang in Chinatown

IN an open kitchen in NoLIta, two solemn young men work together in virtual silence up to 16 hours a day, their destinies yoked by noodles.


Related Recipes

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

Huacan Chen stretching out skeins of noodle dough in the kitchen of Hung Ry, a restaurant that opened in October in NoLIta.

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

A dish of noodles with shrimp that was made at Shang, a restaurant on the Lower East Side.

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

At Hung Ry, squash soup noodle bowl made by Michael Hodgkins.

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

Noodles with shrimp, made in a wok at Shang restaurant.

Michael Hodgkins is a stern, passionate chef from upstate New York, with a dedication to local and organic ingredients. Huacan Chen is an aspiring entrepreneur from Fuzhou in southern China, with a skill that happens to be seriously marketable in New York at the moment: he knows how to spin out endless skeins of la mian, smooth, springy hand-stretched noodles, using nothing but a countertop and his hands.

Hung Ry, a restaurant that opened in October, serves noodle soups that brilliantly combine Mr. Chen’s noodles and Mr. Hodgkins’s broths: deep brews of oxtail, duck belly, roasted squash, star anise, ginger, tamarind, dried chilies and mushrooms. They are the most recent expression — building on David Chang’s ramen and Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s chicken-coconut soup — of the East-West dialogue that has produced some of New York’s most memorable modern dishes.

Because of Mr. Chen’s skills, they are also a high expression of traditional Chinese noodle arts. Even a thousand years ago, there were late-night noodle shops in many Chinese cities; today, niu rou la mian, beef soup with hand-pulled noodles in the hearty style of western China, is a ubiquitous dish. There is a staggering array of fresh noodles served all over China — far beyond the familiar lo mein and chow fun — and more and more of them are popping up here.

In Chinatown, there are stimulating dishes like Mount Qi noodles from Shaanxi in the west of China, a hot and sour broth with minced pork and wide, stretchy noodles called “biang biang mian,” after the noise the dough makes when it is snapped against the counter.

At Sheng Wang on Eldridge Street, the Fujianese chef JinSheng Zhu makes dao xiao mian, “knife-peeled” noodles with ruffled edges that he rapidly slices off a dough block with a steel blade the size of his fist. Each cut he makes lands with such force that it sends a strip of dough several feet through the air, into a pot of boiling water. (In China, noodle vendors with a taste for showmanship learn to do this with the lump of dough balanced on their heads.) The boiled noodles are plunged into broth cloudy with pork marrow, or stir-fried, absorbing every drop of flavor from the wok.

In southern China, noodle dishes tend to be light snacks, but northern noodles are thicker and often make up hearty one-dish meals. Both are found in New York City’s various Chinatowns. There are string-thin noodles combined with Hong-Kong-style clear broth and delicate shrimp-watercress dumplings at Sifu Chio in Flushing, Queens; a mile away, a Shanghai-style noodle shop, Da Jiang Nan Bei, serves thick house-made noodles in a sweat-inducing, chili-red soup thick with beef and preserved mustard greens.

The most basic way to divide Chinese noodles is by flour: rice noodles are called fen, while wheat noodles are mian. There are, however, rice noodles that include wheat starch, wheat noodles that include rice, and noodles from other starches like tapioca or cornstarch. In the Chinese culinary canon, each has its own distinct effect of chewiness, crunchiness or springiness.

There are also two basic ways of cooking noodles: stir-fried in a wok, or plunged into soup. Noodle soup is a standard lunch or anytime snack for millions, always customized to taste with the condiments on every noodle shop table: dried-chili oil (the best places make their own); soy sauce; black, white and red rice vinegars; suan cai, pickled greens; and even fried eggs, wontons or dumplings for a more substantial meal.

During the New Year’s period from Feb. 3 through 17, long noodles are eaten in all corners of China. “Longevity noodles,” also presented at birthday celebrations, are never cut or broken by the cook, and if they can be eaten without biting through the strands, it’s considered even more auspicious. Longevity noodles are usually stir fried, presenting challenges to the home cook.

“Noodles should always be stir-fried alone at first,” said Grace Young, the New York author of several books on Chinese cooking, including the new “Stir-Frying to the Sky’s Edge.” Noodles should be lightly oiled so that they don’t clump together in the wok, she said, and all ingredients must be completely dry so they sear properly. She uses Chinese egg noodles, but when the sidewalks are snowy and Chinatown seems far away, she said, tagliarini from Raffetto’s on Houston Street does very well.

The main difference between pasta and mian, said Susur Lee, the chef at Shang, on the Lower East Side, is that Italian noodles are never supposed to have chew. (Even pasta cooked al dente should be resistant, not chewy.)

“Chinese people like chewiness and crunchiness and density in noodles,” said Mr. Lee, who was raised in Hong Kong. “In China, texture and mouth feel are as important as flavor.”

Of all the noodles in China, Mr. Lee chose plump, bouncy “silver needles” to serve in a homey stir-fry at Shang. He said that silver needles remind him of his childhood in Hong Kong, when vendors would sit by the street and roll the dough to order on their thighs, which produces their distinctive shape: fat, with pointed ends. They are also called pearl noodles or, in Malaysia and Singapore, “rat tails” because of their pointed ends.

At Shang, the noodles are stir-fried in wide, shallow black woks (the northern style, Mr. Lee said, which is easier for Westerners to handle), with searing flames licking up from huge cast-iron wok rings. Like Ms. Young, he adds soy sauce to the wok only at the end of cooking, swirling it around the hot rim of the pan where it evaporates and then gets sucked, smoky flavor and all, into the noodles.

Shang is an elegant, lacquered room in an expensive hotel, but just a few blocks away, squatting under an archway of the Manhattan Bridge, is Xi’an Famous Foods, a tiny storefront where the cooks make noodles that are hand-stretched, rough-edged and deeply filling.

Jason Wang, who helps run the family business (there are four branches in the city), said that the newest house specialty, Mount Qi noodles, is a 1,000-year-old recipe, created by an emperor who decided to share a pig with all of his subjects. With bits of minced pork and a hot-sour-sweet tang — traditionally from red sorghum vinegar — Mount Qi is the Tiger Mother of noodle dishes: challenging, tear-inducing, but strangely compelling..

In most of the dishes at Xi’an Famous Foods, the wide, ruffled noodles — you po che mian — are seasoned with fresh and dried chilies, cumin and peppercorns (black and Sichuan) that characterize food from China’s western plateau (where Mount Qi is situated). Many of the noodle dishes at Xi’an are described as “spicy and tingly,” Mr. Wang’s translation of “ma la,” a term that embraces the heat of chilies and the numbing quality of Sichuan peppercorns, a combination that New Yorkers are increasingly drawn to. Dan dan noodles, the iconic Sichuan noodle dish, have become so popular that at least one restaurant, Grand Sichuan in Midtown, serves two different recipes: one with more ma la and one with less.

“I need a 12-step program to deal with my ma la addiction,” said Sang Yoon, a chef in Los Angeles who created a deconstructed version of dan dan noodles for his new noodle shop, Lukshon.

The most popular of all the new noodles, however, are the la mian, or hand-pulled noodles, that Mr. Chen of Hung Ry has mastered. La mian are not the same as the “lo mein” already familiar to Americans: “la” means pulled, while “lo” means tossed, as in tossed in a wok in a stir-fry.

Signs for “Lan Zhou pulled noodles” now line some streets of Chinatown, though most of the men who make it are not native to Lanzhou, the capital city of Gansu Province. “Lan Zhou noodles,” like “Chicago pizza” or “New York bagels,” has become a catchphrase that signifies deliciousness everywhere.

Noodles from Gansu are famous for their springy texture, according to Florence Lin, the great teacher of Chinese cooking in the United States. Centuries ago, noodle makers in Gansu learned that certain kinds of ash, called peng, had the effect of tenderizing dough. Ash contains potassium carbonate, an alkali (like lye and lime) that makes the noodles soft by inhibiting the development of gluten. (Potassium carbonate is also used around the world to cure foods like olives, lutefisk and corn for hominy.)

Packages of peng imported from China are the key to Mr. Chen’s noodles, every bowl of them made to order with what he considers an ideal level of jiao jing — roughly translatable from Mandarin as “chew power.”

He works in a kitchen stocked with gadgets, but he begins in the traditional way, with a hill of flour. The flour is organic, shipped from a mill in the Champlain Valley, with extra gluten and protein that lend flavor and resistance. Into the flour, Mr. Chen drizzled a solution of water and peng and began to knead, throwing his entire body weight against the shaggy dough.

“Organic flour is harder than the usual kind,” he said, speaking through an interpreter. Mr. Chen came to the restaurant by way of jobs in Peru and Manhattan’s Chinatown, he said, and learned to make la mian during a two-month apprenticeship in China.

As the dough came together and softened, Mr. Chen divided the lump into baguette-size lengths and twisted each one tight like cheese straw. When the twists were done, he held each weighty length in his hands, letting its belly fall toward the ground, then twirled the ends together as if making a pretzel. After several repetitions, he broke off a handful of dough and began to pull it long, doubling the dough around his left hand and spreading his arms wide apart in a few quick moves that produce a web, like a full-body game of cat’s cradle. A few extra pulls produce noodles that are xi, or thin; thick noodles are called cu.

When the noodles come out, perfectly tender, Mr. Hodgkins — who worked most recently under the chef Shea Gallante — goes to work. (Since Mr. Chen speaks no English and Mr. Hodgkins no Chinese, they communicate — minimally — in basic Spanish and hand signals.) Mr. Hodgkins added the broth and highly untraditional toppings like Romanesco broccoli roasted in mustard oil or turnips braised in daikon broth.

“Some days are more Chinese than others,” he said. Mr. Hodgkins has little knowledge of Chinese tradition — a paradox that is part of what makes Hung Ry such an interesting place at which to eat. He has created a complex version of the traditional soup condiments and is fermenting some cavolo nero cabbage to approximate Chinese suan cai, but making the noodles on his own defeated him.

“His hands just know,” he said of Mr. Chen, who plans to open his own noodle shop soon. “I spent three weeks on a mission to learn it, and at the end I had gotten exactly nowhere.”

2011年1月18日 星期二

科學家提倡 多吃蟲救地球有譜

荷蘭科學家提倡 吃蟲救地球有譜
農莊人員篩檢水牛蠕蟲。 (路透)
一名女子克服對昆蟲的恐懼,試吃黃粉蟲乳蛋餅。 (路透)




荷 蘭瓦罕寧恩大學教授范豪斯指出,每吃一口昆蟲,所攝取的蛋白質多於牛肉,而且飼養成本、消耗的水資源遠較低,同時沒有什麼碳足跡。他甚至打算出昆蟲食譜, 讓昆蟲有朝一日可以成為盤中飧,他說︰「兒童沒有吃昆蟲的問題,但成人的飲食習慣發展完成,只能靠品嚐與經驗來改變他們,這是心理問題。」







最近參加試吃會與演講的24歲資訊顧問塔塔說,黃粉蟲乳蛋餅嚐起來有點脆,味道還不壞,但是吃蟲的想法讓他感到恐怖,他說︰「這需要花許多勇氣才敢吃,我看到這些蟲時,通常是把牠們踏死,我不習慣將牠們吃下肚,我不知道我是否還會再吃。」 (取材自路透)