Kiku Exhibition & Recipe

The New York Botanical Garden's third annual exhibition, Kiku: Art of the Japanese Chrysanthemum, is on view until November 15, 2009. See my post on last year's exhibit here. Although the NYBG does plan to hold future kiku exhibitions, the exhibit will not return next year.

Kengai (cascade) style chrysanthemum, grown from a single stem.


This year, in addition to specimens from the exquisite Imperial style varieties displayed in 2008, the garden is showing examples of several other herbaceous chrysanthemums, many of which are pictured below.

















The Imperial style kiku are a visual paradox. From their upright form one senses a noble carriage conveying austerity, elegance, and refinement, yet the crowning profusion of petals suggests a controlled flashiness, at once self-effacing and florid.

The Ogiku, or "Single Stem" style features a tri-color pattern of kiku. The combination of lavender, yellow, and white are associated with equine regalia of the Japanese court.

The more common chrysanthemum varieties are less flashy but radiate a similar feeling of subtle beauty. As I mentioned in last year's post, chrysanthemums are a common theme in Japanese literature. Kikugurama, (Boxcar of Chrysanthemums, 1967) a short story by illustrious novelist, Enchi Fumiko, alludes to the modest charm of the white chrysanthemum. In this story, a woman traveling home one early autumn evening finds herself on a local train carrying both passengers and freight. The long journey is protracted with frequent stops to pick up the night's cargo-- freshly picked chrysanthemums destined for the Tokyo flower market. At one stop the narrator observes a middle-aged woman accompanying her mentally handicapped husband as he sends off his beloved white chrysanthemums. Some time after the train leaves the station the narrator recognizes the couple as the Ishiges, whose strange marriage she had heard of before the Second World War. Apparently Mr Ishige had been born to a wealthy family. Worrying that his son's handicap would prevent his marriage, his father finds a willing young woman, Rie, to marry his son. The marriage elicited doubt and speculation from those who heard of the union. It was suspected that Rie had received financial incentives, but her quiet dedication and the love she showed for her husband over the years, despite humiliating events and a proposal from another man, proved her truly selfless nature. The narrator confides that she too had looked down on Rie. Seeing the Ishiges together after twenty years, the narrator realizes her mistake. Walking home from the train she recalls fondly:

I had been riding on a freight train full of chrysanthemums. In those dark, soot-covered cars hundreds and thousands of beautiful flowers were sleeping, in different shades of white, yellow, red, and purple, and in different shapes. Their fragrance was sealed in the cars. Tomorrow they would be in the Tokyo flower market and sold to florists who would display them in front of their shops.

At that moment she thinks of Rie and says, "She's a white chrysanthemum, that's what she is." Like the chrysanthemum, Rie was an enigma-- beautiful yet decorous and humble. The narrator concludes, "I felt a sense of joy in thinking of Rie's melancholy, middle-aged face as being somehow like the short, dense petals of a modest white chrysanthemum."

(This story can be found in Yukiko Tanaka and Elizabeth Hanson, trans. This Kind of Woman. New York: Perigee Books, 1982.)




Recipe
Kiku Turnip Pickles
A reader recommended this tasty side dish in which turnip pieces are cut to resemble the petals of a chrysanthemum flower and then pickled with sweetened vinegar. I soaked the kiku in juice from concord grapes to achieve a pinkish hue. Red shiso leaves, soaked in water, would probably work too.

Ingredients

1 turnip, peeled and sliced 3/4" crosswise
4 Tbs vinegar
2 tsp sugar
1 Tbs salt
sugar

1. Take a turnip slice and score cross-hatch, or grid marks across the surface, about 2/3 into the slice. Repeat with remaining slices. Cut each slices into pieces that are approximately 1 to 1-1/2" square.

2. Cover the turnip pieces with just enough water to cover, mix in salt and soak for 15-20 minutes. You can add the coloring of your choice at this point or substitute plain water for colored water.

3. In a medium sized, non-reactive bowl or container, combine vinegar with an equal amount of water. Stir in sugar to dissolve.

4. After removing turnip pieces, pat dry with a towel, gently but firmly enough to remove excess water.

5. Soak turnip pieces in vinegar mixture for 1 hour. When ready, pat each piece dry and carefully separate the "petals" so they resemble a bloom. Keep refrigerated up to 2 weeks.


A Bonsai Gingko Tree

See highlights from the 2008 exhibition, Kiku: Art of the Japanese Chrysanthemum

Book Review: Cold Savoury Meals

This charming English ca. 1925 recipe book by Mrs C.F. Leyel (Hilda Leyel, 1880-1957) was published by George Routledge & Sons as part of a series by the author called The Lure of Cookery. Other titles in this series include Puddings, Meals on a Tray, Drinks & Cordials, and Salads and Jams, offering Leyel's inventive cooking style as well as a concise overview of modern British cookery at that time. Cold Savoury Meals suggests meals in the manner of an impromptu Continental style picnic. In the preface Leyel writes, "It taxes the ingenuity of most English cooks to even think out a cold meal on the day the boiler has to be cleaned, and yet a cold supper, and even a picnic basket of cold food, can be made a banquet."

The volume is divided into the following chapters, and includes menus with a main dish and suggestions for other courses suitable for serving at a dinner party or luncheon:

Cold Suppers
Cold Fish as Hors D'Oeuvres or Savouries
Cold Egg Dishes as Hors D'Oeuvres
Cold Cheese Dishes as Hors D'Oeuvres
Cold Vegetable Dishes as Hors D'Oeuvres
Sandwiches

As with most pre-war era cookbooks, Cold Savoury Meals has few instructions and ingredient details- Leyel presumes a general level of cooking knowledge from her readers. Her words are directed at the middle to upper-middle class host/hostess, with recommendations such as the use of decorative molds in which to set a paté. These meals did not require servants, costly serving pieces, or many hours of preparation. Rather, a meal such as Cheshire Eggs, Savoury Banana Salad, and Strawberry Soufflé can be assembled without much fuss with the aid of a refrigerator. Much of the recipes are variations on mousse, loaf, or paté and rely on standbys such as aspic and béchamel or curry sauce. There are some unusual features such as a sandwich which combines gruyère cheese and plantain leaves, but I'm not sure whether ingredients such as plantain leaves were considered unique during the period.

I tried Leyel's delicious recipe for Spaghetti Pie, a perfect choice to serve a group of people, as it can be made in large proportion.



Spaghetti Pie, adapted from Cold Savoury Meals
The recipe calls for "a good béchamel sauce" and I provide my favorite recipe below.

Ingredients

3/4 lb. spaghetti
12 oz. milk
2 Tbs butter
2 Tbs flour
2 or 3 hard boiled eggs, sliced lengthwise
1 bay leaf, preferably fresh
nutmeg
white pepper

While spaghetti cooks in boiling water, prepare béchamel sauce. Over a low flame, melt butter in a saucepan until it just starts to brown. Evenly sprinkle flour over butter and whisk together until flour begins to smell nutty, about a minute. Continue whisking and add milk slowly. Gradually raise the heat, add bay leaf, a pinch of nutmeg and white pepper and stir with a wooden spoon until the sauce thickens, about 5-7 minutes. Remove from the heat, cover and set aside. Drain cooked spaghetti and fill a deep pie dish with alternate layers of spaghetti and egg. Pour béchamel sauce over the spaghetti and place under the broiler until slightly browned. Allow to cool and set for about 30 minutes. Serve at room temperature.


Served at room temperature, the Spaghetti Pie is a nice picnic meal when combined with side dishes such as my piquant cucumbers.

Quince: Jewel of the Autumn Garden

Even without its fruit the quince tree could stand alone as an ornamental in the garden. At around 6 to 8 feet tall, the tree's handsomely compact structure is complemented by the subtle gnarls and twists that add character to the trunk and branches, making it a compelling sight even after the leaves have fallen. The foliage is nicely shaped and turns a lovely, bright yellow in the fall.


Cydonia oblonga Quince Tree.


But quince fruit is one of the garden's most enchanting products. It is visually interesting, with a sculptural, globular, apple-like form and downy covering, and remains on the tree until the end of the season in December. Its scent is also lovely: a musky perfume reminiscent of fir trees. After being picked in Autumn, quince fruit is cooked to soften the flesh and release the fragrance.

Two varieties of quince from the Chaenomeles japonica shrub.


I usually combine the fruit from the quince tree and shrub varieties to make jam. I find that the jam's taste and appearance varies according to when the quinces were picked. Early autumn (October) seems to yield a complex, pungent, and spicy flavor with a soft yellow hue, while late autumn (around November) seems to have a mellow, less pronounced bite, with a pinky-orange tone. No matter when you choose to cook quince, it will always be deliciously tart and an excellent source of Vitamin C. While the jam is perfect on toast or mixed into yogurt, it is also a nice filling for pies, tarts, pancakes, bread, etc. and mixes well with other fruit such as berries, apple, pear, and peach. You can also bake whole quinces as you would apples, cored and filled with brown sugar and butter.



Recipe
Quince Cardamom Jam

2 lbs quinces, cored and quartered
1 3/4 cups sugar
3 cardamom pods

1. Place quince quarters in a large pot and add enough water to cover them. Bring to the boil then reduce to a simmer.
2. Cook until the quince is very soft.
3. Drain quince in a fine mesh strainer and reserve about 1 cup of the liquid.
4. Hold the fine mesh strainer over a cooking pot and gently mash the quince through the sieve into the pot.
5. Add the reserved cooking liquid to the strained quince and place the pot over medium heat.
6. Add sugar and cardamom and stir well. Raise the heat and continue to stir until the jam starts to boil. Reduce heat and taste a little to decide if it needs more sugar.
7. Remove jam from the heat, cover, and allow to cool. Place in jars and keep in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks or sterilize containers for longer storage.

For more information on quince in the garden, visit the Cloister's blog post.