putting the knit in shizknitz

A few years ago, I actually tried this Chinese food item, called 1000 year old eggs. What my feeble Japanese mind didn’t know was actually how old these eggs were. I mean, why name them “1000 year old” when in fact they are only a few months old? This may relate to the asian philosophies of making simple things more complicated, but that’s a whole separate discussion altogether.

Yesterday, I went with my dad to visit his old Japanese friend down in San Pedro. He’s known her for years - from the days he first arrived in Los Angeles and took ESL classes at the adult school. I’ve known her and her late husband as long as I have conscious memory, and think of them like aunts and uncles (although they are about my grandparents age). Her husband (who was a tall caucasian man and supposidly the last living ancester of Buffalo Bill Cody) passed away a few years ago and she has now decided to move back to Japan.

As most people know, moving is not a simple task, and moving out of the country and figuring out the logistics at age 82 is even more difficult. My parents and I have been trying to help her with mundane stuff (like selling her furniture) to help take some burden off - but really has not been as easy. She’s extremely strong willed, independent and is quite naive to the world (which is due to years of her late husband taking very good care of her) and doesn’t understand certain things (and doesn’t want to understand) that come as common sense to my parents and I.

Anyhow, yesterday my dad and I visited her, and another one of her older friends came to visit so she quickly got to the task of serving tea, and other munchies while we all chatted. Typical appetizers include: dried squied, arare and other Japanese crackers as well as yokan and random sweets. She started heating something up in the kitchen, commenting about it was her mother’s special recipe….. she brought back a plate full of small, freshly deep fried mochi. And OH! they were good! Then came the shocking revelation while I’m shoveling these little pieces of deep fried heaven into my mouth:

The Friend: Wow, these are good! Your mom’s recipe?
My Aunt: Yes, there’s mochiko and some other stuff in here, I’m not sure. But look how fine these are! (she produces a bag full of small squares) This was one of my mom’s last creations.
The Friend: Well they are certainly delicious.
My Aunt: And it kept well too, she’s the only one I know who can cut these into small pieces.
Me: (thinking) wait, auntie is 82…. I don’t ever remember her mom being alive..
The Friend: Oh, your MOM made these?
My Aunt: (Proudly) Yes! This is the last of her handywork!
The Friend: When did she pass away?
My Aunt: Oh, back in….(thinks) ‘68 I think…
Me: (choking)
The Friend: But she was sick for awhile, she wasn’t able to cook for a few years before her death.
My Aunt: Right. So these were probably made in…. 1964?
Me: That’s waaaay before I was born…. (puts down the last handful)
My Dad: Wow, these kept quite well … what kind of oil do you use?

There is a study that shows that deep frying can kill germs, right?? Forty year old deep fried mochi.
Literally.