The day after Thanksgiving, I turned my kitchen over to my sis-in-law and she churned us out a delux Japanese feast.

Her original plan was to make Bento boxes, but the box of supplies from Japan didn’t arrive in time, so she had to switch to Plan B, okonomiyaki. On the off chance you don’t know what that is (ha!), I’ll tell you. Okonomiyaki is a savory Japanese pancake.

More or less, it goes like this:

Make a crepe batter of eggs, flour, and water.
Pour some batter on a skillet.
Mound the batter-base with green onions, cabbage, and brilliant pink pickled ginger.
Spread several thin slices of pork on top.
Cook on low-medium heat for 15 minutes, flip and cook for another 15.
To serve, place the “pancake” on a plate and crisscross the top with Japanese mayonnaise and okonomi sauce.
Sprinkle with dried seaweed and fish flakes (that undulate gently, making them look alive).
Devour.

My husband took the last step very seriously. I think he ate four of these monsters.

My sister-in-law made a variation that involved adding a layer of noodles and a layer of scrambled egg.

See all the layers?

And she made octopus balls. Similar ingredients, but with chopped octopus, and all mixed together and then cooked in a ball cooker.

“Ball cooker” isn’t its real name, of course. But that’s what the thing did—it cooked balls.

There was also a root that looked like yucca but wasn’t.

Instead, it was slimy and slightly toxic—it would burn your fingers if handled too much. I think she added it to the crepe batter. Maybe?

And dried, crumbled shrimp bits. Maybe they went in the batter, too? I can’t remember.

The next day, the box from Japan arrived.

We encouraged my sister-in-law to save the contents for the next time, but there were a good number of other items for fun sampling. So we had an appetizer feast! Squid stuffed with sticky rice. Dried squid dipped in Japanese mayo (she says that rice wine and dried squid is the Japanese equivalent of wine and cheese). Sticky rice cakes. And boiled eggs in the shape of a rabbit or panda (put a hot boiled egg into a mold and then chill in ice water for ten minutes). There were shrimp-flavored puff-chip things. And bowls of Japanese “ramen noodles”—noodles with cakes of fried tofu—simply add hot water and slurp.

Next up: Bento boxes! (Or maybe shrimp in three seconds flat?)

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (12.9.13), smoking hot, a family outing, peanut butter cookies, Ree’s monkey bread, and butter cookies.

This same time, years previous: 17 needles and 4 children, holding, iced ginger shortbread, winter quinoa salad, my kids are weird, zippy me, baked corn, and play areas, scorpions, and ritual cleansings.  

*lazy eaters lingering—reading, not fighting—and with wet hair from their pre-supper showers
*on the stove, a dirty skillet from making the scrambled eggs for our silly supper
*also on stove, the leftover cheesy herb pizza made from a ball of dough that was hanging out in the fridge—in other words, leftovers from leftovers.
*fairly clean counter work space…because I had just put away the mess of fixings for the meatloaf sandwiches (we ate them for lunch and then for supper, too—go, leftovers!)
*extra cups from sampling the fresh goat’s milk—it was delicious.
*a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink and on the counter—it doesn’t look bad but it’s actually quite a pile—waiting for my son to come wash them
*my favorite cooking companion—the under-the-cabinet radio—that wasn’t, thanks to the snow storm knocking out our local NPR station.
*on the counter among the dirty dishes, a clean jar of water for in case the power goes out (it didn’t)
*to the left of the stove, a pile of stuff—a flashlight, the basket of paper napkins, a hat and gloves, a discarded lactose pill wrapper, candles, my husband’s hammer holder. You know, stuff.
*on the dining room table, more stuff—my husband was on a cleaning rampage (go, husband!)
*photobombing chair—the handmade Amish rocker that my parents gave us for our wedding
*freshly-washed votive candle holders on the windowsill, just waiting to create some cozy
*the phone, also on the sill, where I usually place it after calls since I always seem to end up at talking at the sink
*dangling on the window opener doohickey, my younger son’s anti-bullying bracelet that he bought at his cousin’s (not-really) garage sale.