Rice cakes are edible hockey pucks which very popular here in Japan. Not surprisingly they are made out of rice.
Actually, the hockey puck allusion is misleading. Only the biggest rice cakes are that bulky. More commonly, a rice cake will comfortably fit in the palm of a hand.
A typical plain rice cake.
As to the similarity in taste, I wouldn’t know. While I’ve been hit in the face with a hockey puck, I’ve never tried to eat one.
One similarity is how hard a rice cake is . . . at least until it’s cooked. When a rice cake is subjected to heat, it basically melts, or swells up and melts.
Gooey and chewy!
Here is the same rice cake, after I baked it in an electric oven for about ten minutes. However a rice cake is cooked, it ends up GOOEY. Really gooey! Making it extremely fun to eat! My lovely wife, who just happens to be a genius in the kitchen, makes sweet red bean soup. The highlight is dropping in two rice cakes, which melt, thus every bite is covered in the delicious sweet sticky soup. It’s indescribably delicious!
It’s also impossible to describe the flavor of a rice cake by itself. Because basically there is none. If the outside is scorched by being in a fire or subjected to a blowtorch, the crust tastes like carbon or charcoal or incinerated newspaper. The true joy of eating a rice cake comes from what it’s immersed in, and just as importantly, it’s unique texture. Refer back to ‘gooey’.
Mind you, this whole article is about the simple, plain, white rice cake. I believe in starting with the basics. But the fact is there are more varieties of rice cakes than there are donuts at Krispy Kreme. Every color in the spectrum, too many flavors and variations to mention.
Before I forget, as it says in the top left panel above, the Japanese call a rice cake ‘mochi’ or ‘o-mochi’ — おもち. (‘O’ is often added as a prefix to show respect or reverence.)
Now at the risk of repeating myself, I’ll repeat myself by referencing an annual celebration in which the rice cake plays a feature role. Tondo Matsuri! Yes, it’s a wonderful occasion, saying farewell to the old year, welcoming the new. As I said a year ago, it’s a very laid-back affair. Here it’s just neighbors stamping their feet to stay warm, enjoying the warmth of a fire, lots of friendly smiles, and of course, gooey and chewy 餅 to launch us into 2022.
Life In Japan: Rice Cakes
Rice cakes are edible hockey pucks which very popular here in Japan. Not surprisingly they are made out of rice.
Actually, the hockey puck allusion is misleading. Only the biggest rice cakes are that bulky. More commonly, a rice cake will comfortably fit in the palm of a hand.
As to the similarity in taste, I wouldn’t know. While I’ve been hit in the face with a hockey puck, I’ve never tried to eat one.
One similarity is how hard a rice cake is . . . at least until it’s cooked. When a rice cake is subjected to heat, it basically melts, or swells up and melts.
Here is the same rice cake, after I baked it in an electric oven for about ten minutes. However a rice cake is cooked, it ends up GOOEY. Really gooey! Making it extremely fun to eat! My lovely wife, who just happens to be a genius in the kitchen, makes sweet red bean soup. The highlight is dropping in two rice cakes, which melt, thus every bite is covered in the delicious sweet sticky soup. It’s indescribably delicious!
It’s also impossible to describe the flavor of a rice cake by itself. Because basically there is none. If the outside is scorched by being in a fire or subjected to a blowtorch, the crust tastes like carbon or charcoal or incinerated newspaper. The true joy of eating a rice cake comes from what it’s immersed in, and just as importantly, it’s unique texture. Refer back to ‘gooey’.
Mind you, this whole article is about the simple, plain, white rice cake. I believe in starting with the basics. But the fact is there are more varieties of rice cakes than there are donuts at Krispy Kreme. Every color in the spectrum, too many flavors and variations to mention.
Before I forget, as it says in the top left panel above, the Japanese call a rice cake ‘mochi’ or ‘o-mochi’ — おもち. (‘O’ is often added as a prefix to show respect or reverence.)
Now at the risk of repeating myself, I’ll repeat myself by referencing an annual celebration in which the rice cake plays a feature role. Tondo Matsuri! Yes, it’s a wonderful occasion, saying farewell to the old year, welcoming the new. As I said a year ago, it’s a very laid-back affair. Here it’s just neighbors stamping their feet to stay warm, enjoying the warmth of a fire, lots of friendly smiles, and of course, gooey and chewy 餅 to launch us into 2022.