My Idol
I met food stylist Kimiko Hiyamizu through a work interview a while ago.
The dishes she creates, her choice of tableware, and her styling –
all of it is wonderful. I was drawn into her vivid world, and now she is completely my idol.
Every time I encounter the unwavering core within her composed demeanor, it makes me want to be like her.
It was some time after I started using my new bowl that I contacted Ms. Hiyamizu again.
This is the bowl I brought in, named "clay."
Before this, I hardly owned any deep bowls, and inspired by the thought "I wish there was a shape like this," I collaborated with Sakuzan Kiln to create this small bowl.
The texture of the recycled clay left on the exterior is striking, and its form, which fits comfortably in the hand, is also wonderfully charming.
However, when I started using it myself, its uses tended to be similar: it became a regular for hot pot side dishes, soup, and donburi. Especially the large size, I often struggled with how to serve food in it, and it felt a bit too big for a household of two, so it was used less and less.
"clay" must have other expressions to show...
I thought so, but I couldn't find an answer.
It was then that Ms. Hiyamizu suddenly came to mind.
I took a chance and emailed her about my dilemma, and soon received a reply.
"Well, if you'd like, why don't we try using it at my place?"
I never expected to be invited to her home.
Then came the appointed day.
Upon arriving at Ms. Hiyamizu's house, I took a deep breath before the intercom. It was finally happening.
The Kitchen I Admired
I still vividly remember the emotion I felt when I stepped into her house.
The world I had seen so many times in magazines was right there before my eyes.
What caught my eye most was the kitchen.
Countless seasonings and cooking utensils were lined up on the shelves, yet it didn't feel cluttered at all. This is probably because each item seemed to say, "This is my place," fitting perfectly.
Shifting my gaze, I saw many bowls stacked on shelves next to the study and dining room. Each was distinctive, yet they came together like a single landscape, creating a beauty that made me pause and admire them.
After being shown around the room for a while, I set down my belongings and gently arranged the bowls in the kitchen.
Then, Ms. Hiyamizu picked one up and slowly caressed its exterior with her fingertips.
"The texture of the clay on the outside is lovely. The glaze inside is also beautiful. The black isn't too strong, so the food will surely stand out."
I was delighted that she immediately praised the aspects I had focused on. To highlight the texture of the recycled clay, we left the exterior unglazed to retain its earthy feel, and adjusted the interior color many times.
Next, she placed her finger on the rim and examined it from different angles.
"Is this finished by hand? It looks a little different and cute when viewed from above compared to the side."
This bowl is shaped into a circle and then finished one by one by craftsmen.
When viewed from above, its subtly triangular outline is charming, and it's a feature I particularly love.
Ms. Hiyamizu, as if conversing with the bowls, kept discovering their charming points one after another.
After observing the bowls for a while, she said:
"Today, I'm going to create two scenes with these. Considering the season, a hot pot is a must. The other one will be a Western dish."
Convinced that such an opportunity might never come again, I gladly accepted her offer.
Enjoying Western Dishes in Winter Colors
"Alright, let's start with the Western scene."
With that word as a signal, the kitchen sprang into action.
Four bowls were selected for the Western meal.
As the bowls were lined up, Ms. Hiyamizu began preparing the ingredients with confident movements.
I wanted to imprint every step, every plating, into my memory, but her lightness was so great that my eyes couldn't keep up.
Fricassee
The first dish was a fricassee that Ms. Hiyamizu had prepared in advance.
"For Western winter dishes, this is it, isn't it?"
Her voice, casually uttered as she warmed the pot, was incredibly reassuring.
She said that fricassee immediately came to mind when I asked her about the bowl.
A gentle aroma wafted with the steam as she added a little fresh cream at the end.
That "gentle, warming feeling" you crave on a cold day spread throughout the kitchen.
The large white bowl was chosen for serving.
This was the size I struggled with the most, but in Ms. Hiyamizu's hands, a dish effortlessly came together, naturally creating empty space.
I had thought it might be for large gatherings of family and friends, but that preconceived notion quickly crumbled.
White pottery, white food.
By harmonizing with similar colors, an elegant winter aesthetic emerges.
Finally, a sprig of bay leaf completes the dish.
Beet and Tuna Salad
A generous portion of beet and tuna salad was served in the medium-sized black glazed bowl. With strawberries and radicchio added, seasoned with vinegar and pistachios, an elegant dish was created in no time.
The deep ruby-colored ingredients gathered together, creating a truly beautiful sight. The black glaze accentuated the world of vibrant red.
"Bringing together red makes it more mature, doesn't it?"
said Ms. Hiyamizu.
Just like the white-on-white fricassee, I felt that unifying the colors heightened its presence.
Sea Bass Fritters
The third dish was sea bass fritters, made with firm, seasonal sea bass.
"For deep-fried dishes, rice bran oil is the lightest. And, sparkling water, of course."
As she spoke, she quickly mixed the batter with strong flour and sparkling water. Not overmixing, not popping the air bubbles. It was just the right balance.
The moment it was dropped into the oil, tiny bubbles fizzed and the batter gently puffed up. It was so light it didn't seem like a deep-fried dish at all, and the light reflected off the bubbles in the pot, making them sparkle.
For serving, small portions were placed in the small black and white bowls. A layer of homemade mayonnaise was spread, topped with freshly fried sea bass, and finished with pickled daikon radish and fennel.
Time to Toast
With all the dishes ready, we immediately began to eat.
It was a cloudy and slightly dim day, but the elegant dishes and tableware, rather than being overshadowed, used the dimness to create a calm and sophisticated atmosphere.
"Since we're here, let's have some wine too,"
she said, pouring me some orange wine, whose subtle shimmer as light passed through it was absolutely beautiful.
As for me, overwhelmed with excitement, my hands couldn't stop taking pictures after each dish was made.
Then Ms. Hiyamizu smiled and said, "Then I'll take some too," pulling out her smartphone, and we both enthusiastically snapped away.
Enjoying an Adult Hot Pot
"Shall we move on to the hot pot now?"
Before I knew it, an earthen pot had been prepared in the kitchen.
Kombu dashi with kaffir lime leaves and lemongrass, and a dash of sake.
It was my first time combining herbs with a hot pot, and I couldn't contain my excitement.
First, the ingredient preparation. Here, "clay" makes its debut.
Clams, chicken meatballs, watercress.
They were swiftly placed into bowls sized appropriately for each ingredient. Even leafy greens that tend to spread, like watercress, were perfectly contained by the larger bowls, and I couldn't help but be captivated, thinking, "So this is how it can be used."
The table is set.
The combination of ingredients was also fresh, raising my expectations about what kind of hot pot it would be.
"First, the clams."
I gently lowered the large clams into the broth and waited for a while, and their shells slowly began to open.
The moment they fully opened was the perfect time to eat them. I stared intently at the clams, determined not to miss that moment.
Taking a big bite of a clam that had just opened, the clear broth, infused with herbs, spread through my mouth, and the clam itself was incredibly tender. It was truly a luxurious taste.
Next up were the chicken meatballs.
Grated yam was mixed into them, and when dropped into the pot, they cooked as they gently floated to the surface.
Accompanying this was a tiny dollop of Ms. Hiyamizu's homemade "3-year-old" fermented chili.
This chili, matured with salt, has a mild spiciness and a pronounced umami flavor.
And the climax was a generous amount of watercress.
Watercress, which I had always thought of as a side vegetable, had a leading role today.
When dipped in the broth, it absorbed all the umami from the kombu, herbs, clams, and chicken meatballs, becoming so fresh and delicious that I could eat endless amounts.
When I asked for the name of this hot pot,
"Clam, Meatball, and Watercress Herb Hot Pot!"
Ms. Hiyamizu immediately replied with a smile. What a stylish name.
Before I knew it, the hot pot was empty.
Ms. Hiyamizu quietly stood up and prepared udon noodles to finish the meal.
The thin noodles, like Himi udon, slipped down the throat smoothly and paired perfectly with the elegant broth, making the last bowl impeccable.
In my mind, hot pot always meant cooking everything at once, like a yosenabe, but I was surprised to discover that savoring each ingredient in sequence could create such rich flavors.
Discussing the Future of "clay" with Ms. Hiyamizu
A relaxed moment after the meal.
While enjoying Ms. Hiyamizu's homemade roll cake, the conversation about "clay" continued.
"Chinese food would be good too. This large one would be great for dumplings.
The small white one would surely suit chawanmushi too. You could even stand spring rolls upright in it."
As Ms. Hiyamizu's ideas flowed one after another, I was reminded again that she truly is a professional.
It was the same bowl, but simply shifting one's perspective could change the landscape so dramatically. That's what I learned that day.
Ms. Hiyamizu, thank you so much for a wonderful time today.
I look forward to the day we can meet again.
