Uniquely Japanese Foods that My Kids Love

Kabocha

Kabocha, sometimes sold as "Japanese pumpkin" in American supermarkets, is a type of squash. Compared to the more conventional sugar pumpkin and other squashes such butternut and acorn, kabocha has a denser, creamier texture - probably why my kids love it. 

In Japan, the classic preparation is by simmering with soy sauce and sake. Kabocha is also a great substitute for potatoes in croquettes. I always use kabocha instead of sugar pumpkins for things like pumpkin pie and pumpkin bread. Muji cafe serves mashed kobocha mixed with some chopped greens. This  tones down the bitterness of some greens, and my kids enjoy it a lot. 

Natto

Natto is the infamous slimy, stinky, fermented soybean dish that is a fixture in Japan but hated by nearly all non-Japanese people who come across it. Natto is not considered delicious per say, but it is definitely a refrigerator staple. It typically comes with a soy-sauce based seasoning packet and a packet of Japanese mustard. Natto is a nutritious source of protein (especially good for gut health I've heard) that involves no cooking, so it is easy to see why it is popular. You can top it with different things. Common toppings include scallions, sriracha, mayo, chili powder, mustard, and nori. 

The thing with Natto is that it smells worse than it tastes. It makes the dishwasher and garbage smell horrendous. Its slimy texture - a detraction for many but a virtue for some (mostly Japanese kids)  - is a familiar texture in Japanese cuisine and one that kids seem to be fond of here. Although I didn't grow up with natto, I've learned to like it, unlike my kids, who adore it. When dinner fails to completely satiate, we pull out the natto. And it is never eaten by only one person. Once the natto is out, both kids clamor for it. As E says, "it's a natto fest." 

Nikuman

Technically Chinese, nikuman has become a popular part of Japanese cuisine. Its basic form is a steamed yeast-leavened bun with a filling. In Japan, that filling is usually minced pork ("niku" literally means meat in Japanese) with a few variations. 

When I was a teenager, I spent summers in Shanghai with my grandfather. He lived in an old part of the city where street vendors sold freshly made baozi, the broader Chinese name for it. There are endless varieties of baozi in China but my grandfather's favorite vendor sold ones filled with Chinese mustard greens and shiitake seasoned with sesame oil. This too became my favorite. 

I haven't found anything similar in Tokyo, but nearly every supermarket and department store food hall here sells the pork-based nikuman. While it's not impossible to make at home, it requires some time and technique, so we buy it and keep it as an easy weekend lunch. 

Soba

Soba is a Japanese buckwheat noodle. Because it is made from buckwheat, it is though to be healthier than its relatives, ramen and udon. Whereas ramen and udon are more often served in fast casual settings, soba is a bit more refined, though it also exists as fast food. Soba can be served in a hot broth or it can be served cold alongside a cold dipping sauce, a popular summer option. 

My kids prefer soba over salty ramen and chewy udon. I usually do too, but I'm also considering how I will feel after the meal, and I doubt my kids think about that. It is common to serve soba with tempura. My kids like soba so much that they will abstain from eating more fried foods to save room for the buckwheat. I like it, but it is a mystery to me. 

Shishamo

Shishamo is a smelt fish (capelin) native to Hokkaido. It is a small fish about the length of long green bean and barely a finger's width wide. You grill, bake, or sauté the fish and eat it whole. The awareness of sustainable seafood is low in Japan, but the production of farmed shishamo has grown recently to lessen the burden on wildlife stock. It seems that Atlantic capelin may be more sustainable, perhaps due to lower popularity. 

My kids, who were introduced to it at an early age, also eat the entire fish. In Chicago, it was a treat because we could only buy it at the Japanese supermarket a half hour's drive away. In contrast, it is too accessible in Tokyo. Nearly every supermarket, even bodegas and convenience stores, carry shishamo. I still try to keep it a treat. 

Edamame

Until moving to Japan, I only knew frozen edamame. Then I tasted fresh edamame here, and as you might expect, it tastes a lot better. Edamame season runs through the summer. In June and July, you will see fresh edamame stalks in supermarkets. Perhaps surprisingly, edamame is a popular beer food here in Japan, and as such, it's sold at sports concessions and bars. 

As for my kids, they get a kick out of removing the beans from the pods. When edamame is on the table, it is difficult to get M to eat anything else. It is also super easy to prepare - just boil for a few minutes and sprinkle with salt. 

Tofu

Japan is tofu-nation, and Kyoto is tofu-town. Kyoto has many incredible restaurants, and some of those serve multi-course kaiseki meals specializing in tofu. In daily life here in Tokyo, tofu is not as exalted but just as versatile and ubiquitous. You can grill it, fry it, flatten it into a pouch and fill it with rice (inari sushi), or simply eat it cold with soy sauce and a squeeze of citrus. Both my kids prefer tofu over most meats, and I suspect it's because of the tender texture. Basically they prefer to chew as little as possible, and meat requires many more chews than tofu. 

When my kids were weaning, I blended tofu into ground chicken to make chicken patties. The tofu makes the patties more tender, fluffier, and easier to eat. Nowadays I keep packet of soft tofu in the refrigerator for an easy summer side dish - just cut, season with soy sauce or ponzu, and perhaps a sprinkle of bonito flakes, sesame seeds, and/or scallions. 

Attending a Japanese Daycare (Hoikuen)

While E is enrolled in an English-speaking preschool, M attends hoikuen, Japanese daycare. Hoikuen enroll children from just a few months old to five years old, though it depends on the particular daycare center. Ours accepts children aged 0-3. It would take an entire post to explain the various tiers and nuances of the Japanese hoikuen system. Basically, they can be wholly private, privately managed but authorized by the government, and publicly run by the government. 

Daycares are usually managed, authorized, or funded on the municipal government level. In Tokyo, municipalities, or Kus, are massive and function as independent cities. We live in Shibuya-Ku (Shibuya refers both to Shibuya-Ku, a municipality inside Tokyo, as well as Shibuya city, a neighborhood within Shibuya-Ku famed for its Shibuya Scramble intersection). It is the local government's budget and policies that determine the access and quality of daycares within its area. 

Despite Japan's population decline and Tokyo's particularly low birth rate, daycare spots are hard to come by in this city. This is especially true for government-funded daycare centers because the tuition is low. M's hoikuen is subsidized, and her tuition is less than half of what we were paying in Chicago. The hoikuen has a sliding scale tuition system: each family's tuition is based on their income. Some families pay more, and some pay less. I think this is a great system. 

What do I love about M's hoikuen? First, the quality of care they provide. The teachers are patient, caring, and attentive. It helps that the student to teacher ratio is low. M has two teachers for the five kids in her class. During the time she wore diapers, she never once returned home with a diaper rash. She also never  returned home with bites - a common occurrence among young toddlers. Maybe there are just no biters in her class, or maybe the teachers intervene quickly enough to prevent it from happening.  

M's day at hoikuen looks somethings like this. After everyone arrives in the morning, they go on a long walk. Sometimes they walk around the neighborhood, and sometimes they go to one of the many nearby parks. The daycare encourages all the toddlers to walk. To make this happen, the kids are divided into small groups so that the teachers can closely supervise everyone. These walks are as long as an hour when the weather is nice. After some playtime, it's lunchtime. Food is prepared on site by a cook. At the beginning of each month, we receive the lunch menu for that month. A typical meal is fish with rice, veggies on the side, miso soup, and fruits. Then it is nap time, followed by an afternoon walk and an afternoon snack, like rice cakes. Before pick up, the kids might work on crafts projects or have free play. 

Although I like M's hoikuen very much, there are some unexpected rules that I had to get used to. Here they are: 

• Sewing my daughter's name onto her blanket (as opposed to writing it or using a name sticker). I can barely sew a button onto a shirt, let alone a name. 

• Packing an extra outfit every day. This is because they change her after lunch, when her morning outfit would ostensibly get dirty. I don't think this is necessary to do everyday since she keeps two extra sets of clothes at daycare anyways. 

• No dresses, buttons, hair accessories, or hoods. Basically, nothing that can get "caught" or pulled by other kids. I thought this was excessively cautious. 

• Not allowing mittens in the winter on the basis that M would not be able to use all ten fingers to break a potential fall. Also no gloves because her classmates might get jealous of cute gloves, and then everybody would want gloves...in the winter. 

• This one was a big hurdle for us because it dealt with toilet training. It seems norms have changed in the last few decades in Japan. Or perhaps our daycare's kids are outliers. Either way, I was under the impression that Japanese kids became toilet trained significantly earlier than their American peers. It seems I was wrong. M no longer wears a diaper at home, with the exception of sleeping at night. However, the hoikuen said, due to staffing reasons, M could only go without a diaper for what amounts to an hour and a half during the day. While we explained that M rarely has accidents and is already trained, they responded that toddlers become potty trained in the three year old class. M was way too early. This confused me, because they had been encouraging M to sit on the toilet since she was a year and a half old. It also shocked me that the age they cited was three years old. 

Despite this, I think hoikuen has been an excellent experience for M. It is structured and nurturing. I know she will be happy, engaged, and well cared for when I drop her off in the mornings. And when we pick her up, she sometimes doesn't want to leave. They have also taught her skills that I don't think I would have been able to teach as effectively - group learning is amazing. Here is another post I wrote about Japanese kids and some differences in how they are raised compared to American kids. M will eventually join her sister at an English speaking primary school. However, having now experienced a Japanese Hoikuen, there is nowhere else I would rather M be at this age. 

A Japanese Childhood

It is hard to believe that we have been living in Japan for six months now and at the same time hard to fathom that we had a completely different life in Chicago a mere six months ago. My eldest daughter, E, is adaptable. My younger daughter M is too young to remember six months ago. This post is about the differences I have experienced between raising young kids in Chicago and raising them here in Tokyo. Of course, my observations are from my perspective, and there are many factors, aside from culture and geography, that influence my perspective. 

Outside the home, E and M experience very different environments. E goes to an English-language international school while M attends Japanese daycare. Since E was enrolled in an American daycare from 4 months of age, she has never been truly immersed in a Japanese community the way M now is. The contrast between them now, and the differences between them at the same ages, is apparent. 

1. Snacking 

While Japanese kids snack, it is not obvious that they do. You won't see kids walking down the street munching on snacks. In Japan, eating while walking is a big faux pas. Convenience stores typically have a small outdoor area where you can stand and eat your snack before moving on. I'm not sure about drinks. I think to some extent it must also be frowned upon, because I don't see people walking around in the morning with coffee (or water or tea) super-glued to their hands. 

Since most people get around on foot, there are not many opportunities to witness kids snacking. My observations of kids snacking comes from spending time with family and friends. And from the enormous variety of ridiculously cute snack foods found at supermarkets and convenience stores. Japanese kids may snack less than their American counterparts. The walking rule limits their opportunities, after all. However, in America, I think there is a bigger push and wider selection of "healthy snacks" targeted towards kids.

We are not a big snacking family. At home, the kids' routine is morning breakfast, lunch at noon, an afternoon snack, and dinner at 6pm. While this has not changed, I am finding it harder to keep out the less healthy snack foods. E has one classmate whose mom brings a bunch of snacks to share after school. The snacks are super popular with the kids, but are not the healthiest. Now that E knows these other snacks exist, I give it to her from time to time so it doesn't become forbidden fruit. 

Unnecessarily alluring snacks:

Make your own sushi candy.

Anpanman lollies.

Chocolate mushroom mountain and acorns.

2. Eating Manners

Eating in Japan is an activity laden with cultural idiosyncrasies. Babies and toddlers are not expected to eat as adults would, but still, a lot is expected of them. 

A meal begins when people clap their hands together and bow their heads, exclaiming, "itadakimasu!" It means to receive or accept the meal in gratitude. At the end of a meal, you would bow your head a bit, put your hands together, and say, "gochisousama deshita," which means something like, "it was a great meal," and also expresses gratitude for the meal, particularly towards the cook or the person who treated you. These two expressions is the foundation of social eating in Japan, and children are taught to say this from an early age. M has been saying this (or something that sounds like this. She claps her hands together and nods her head, so we know.) since she was one and a half years old. Her daycare has taught her to do this. 

M's daycare also taught her to properly drink from a cup, without a straw and without a top. They asked us to work with her on this at home too, for consistency's sake. It was a huge pain. Spills everywhere. Wasted milk. But she was able to do it within a week or so. 

The same thing happened with using utensils. For babies one year and older, using hands to eat is discouraged. At age two, chopstick training begins. Chopstick training commonly involves moving beans from one bowl to another to master chopstick skills. Needless to say, chopstick etiquette is an important and nuanced part of social etiquette. 

3. Strollers

We started encouraging my then two and a half year old to walk without her stroller when her sister was born. It seemed premature, and she struggled a little. Then the pandemic arrived. My physician husband became busier (he drives the car), daycare hours changed, and I became the one primarily responsible for drop-offs and pick-ups. My work from home hours helped make this easier too. With daycare about one mile away from our home, it was easier to pile both kids into a double stroller and walk. And this is how a double stroller came into our lives. 

In Japan, I see only infant babies in strollers. Rarely have I seen double strollers, since the older child would be expected to walk. It would not be unusual to see a two year old out without a stroller. M's daycare takes her class on walks twice daily, as weather permits. On a nice day, they walk as much as a mile. I would have thought this to be too demanding for a one and a half year old, but kids are amazing and can exceed expectations unexpectedly. Of course, this requires enormous patience and a big time commitment from the caretaker. It made me think that we, as parents, often minimize our expectations of our kids for our own convenience and because of our own limitations. 

4. Toilet Training

Toilet training in Japan begins early, sometimes around age one and well before age two. M's daycare has already begun potty-training. Chinese babies also potty train early, around age one. At least, this was the case when I was a baby. Even though I have lived almost my entire life in the U.S., I was shocked to learn, after becoming a parent, that many American toddlers do not potty train until age 3 and beyond. 

We trained E at age 2 because we did not want two kids in diapers. For her, it went as smoothly as I could have hoped. Even so, it took a lot of work at the beginning. In the end, it saved a lot of diapers, time, and energy. I believe it also made her more confident by granting her greater independence. 

At the time, two seemed early compared to E's peers. Now that I am living in Japan, my perspective has shifted, and I wonder if we could have, or maybe should have, trained E even earlier. Maybe two was the perfect time. Maybe we granted ourselves more time than necessary because the status quo was familiar and convenient, and the alternative meant a lot of work and change. 

5. Social Expectations

I have written about when to remove shoes in Japan. This includes gyms, the library (children's reading area), indoor play spaces, changing rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, etc.. Any obvious barrier - wooden floor to tatami mat/carpet or a raised surface - is a likely signal to take off the shoes. This is still not always apparent to me, but my kids are great knowing when to take off their shoes. 

M, who is not even two years old, automatically takes off her shoes at our entryway and puts them away in the shoe closet. I cannot take credit for this. This is something she does everyday at daycare. Her daycare teaches all this in nurturing and patient, though unyielding, way. In this way, even very young children participate in social rituals that signal their active participation and integration into the community.