TOKYO (AP) — The word “onigiri” was included in the Oxford English Dictionary this year, a testament to the global lexicon of the humble rice balls and iconic Japanese food.
Onigiri rice balls, stuffed with a variety of ingredients and usually wrapped in nori seaweed, are an everyday dish emblematic of washoku, traditional Japanese cuisine, which was designated an intangible cultural heritage by UNESCO 10 years ago.
Onigiri is “fast food, slow food and soul food,” says Nakamura Yusuke, president of the Onigiri Association, a Tokyo industry group.
It’s quick because you can get it at a convenience store. It’s slow because it uses ingredients from the sea and mountains. It’s soul food because it’s often made and eaten with family and friends. No utensils are needed, just gently clasp your hands together.
“You can also transport food as you go,” he said.
The oldest form of onigiri is thought to date back to at least the early 11th century, and it appears in Murasaki Shikibu’s The Tale of Genji. It also appears as a perfect gift of gratitude from peasants in Akira Kurosawa’s 1954 classic film Seven Samurai.
What on earth is in an onigiri?
The stickiness of Japanese rice is the key.
The filling is called “filling.” A traditionally popular filling is pickled plum. Or maybe hot and spicy mentaiko. But in principle, you can put anything inside an onigiri, such as sausage or cheese.
It is then wrapped in nori seaweed. One large rice ball can be a meal, but many people eat more.
Some people support the traditional onigiri
Yosuke Miura runs Onigiri Asakusa Yadoroku, a restaurant founded by his grandmother in 1954. Yadoroku means “useless” and was named after his husband, Miura’s, grandfather. The restaurant claims to be the oldest onigiri shop in Tokyo.
There are only 2 tables, 8 chairs at the counter, takeaway is available but you still have to queue.
“There’s no one who doesn’t like onigiri,” Miura says with a smile from behind a wooden counter, as a display case in front of him displays a selection of onigiri, including salmon, shrimp and miso-flavored ginger. “Basically, it’s nothing special. 100% of Japanese people have tried it.”
Miura, who is also a classical flute player, plans to treat the rice balls as sheet music inherited from his grandmother and to faithfully reproduce it.
“In classical music, you play exactly what’s written on the score, and it’s the same with onigiri,” he says. “You don’t try to do anything new.”
Yadoroku is tucked away in Asakusa, a quaint Tokyo neighborhood. It opens at 11:30am and closes when it runs out of rice, usually within an hour, before reopening for dinner. The most expensive onigiri is 770 yen ($4.90) with salmon roe, while the cheapest is 319 yen ($2), which also includes miso soup. Reservations are not accepted.
Onigiri come in a variety of shapes, including round, square, animal, and star shapes, but Miura’s standard is the triangular shape. As the onigiri is made right in front of you after receiving an order, it only takes 30 seconds.
He places the hot rice into a triangular cookie cutter-like mold, rubs salt into his hands, and presses the rice into a cup, repeating the process three times to gently firm the sides. He wraps a piece of crispy nori seaweed around the rice like a handkerchief, turning one end up to keep it crisp.
The first bite is just seaweed and rice, the second bite is when the topping comes out.
“Yadoroku rice balls will remain the same until the end of the Earth,” Miura said with a smile.
Others want to experiment
Miyuki Kawaharada runs Tokyo Onigiri Taro, which has four locations across Japan. She has her sights set on Los Angeles and Paris. Her vision is to make onigiri the “global fast food.”
The name “Taro” was chosen because it’s a common Japanese equivalent of John or Michael, and onigiri has gained mass appeal because it’s easy to make, gluten-free and versatile, she says.
She also points out that other Japanese foods such as ramen and sushi are gaining popularity worldwide.
Inside the bright and modern shop, employees in khaki company T-shirts are busily preparing rice balls and onigiri in the kitchen visible behind the cash register — the shop is open for takeaway only.
Kawaharada’s onigiri are not stuffed with lots of ingredients inside, but instead have a lot of colorful toppings on top. The nori seaweed that goes on top is wrapped separately before eating.
Her goo is adventurous: rice balls with cream cheese mixed with “iburi-gakko,” a spicy Japanese pickle, go for 250 yen ($1.60) each; Spam and egg rice balls go for 300 yen ($1.90); and “Dashi Punch X3,” with several kinds of “kombu” seaweed, goes for 280 yen ($1.80).
“Onigiri is an infinite universe. It’s not bound by tradition,” says Kawarada.
customer
One day, Asami Hirano stopped by Tokyo Onigiri Taro while walking her dog and spent a long time choosing a meal.
“I’ve loved onigiri since I was a child. My mother used to make it for me,” she said.
Nicolas Fou-Thun, a Frenchman who works as an intern nearby and has visited Tokyo Onigiri Taro several times before, thinks it’s good value. “It’s simple food,” he says.
Food promoter Miki Yamada calls onigiri “omusubi” because it more clearly represents the idea of connection. Yamada says she has made it her life’s mission to bring people together since the 2011 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster devastated her family’s rice farm in Japan’s Tohoku region.
“By interacting with omusubi, I discovered a certain spirituality, a fundamental Japaneseness,” she said.
She said there’s nothing more delicious than a simple Aizu rice ball with a pinch of salt and no filling.
“It gives me energy. It’s the ultimate comfort food,” she said.
__
Yuri Kageyama is at X: https://twitter.com/yurikageyama
