Culture in a bowl
by Jeffrey D. Batac
In Japan, one of the things
that struck me as odd was how short their rice grains were. As I tore open a
bag of uruchimai at a cooking session in Minami Aizu in Fukushima, I had to
take a double look at the rice before me, wondering whether or not I had the
right bag. The rice grains came in half the size of the regular dinorado, each
grain resembling a miniature clear quartz crystal. Until then, I was content
feasting on steamed rice served in dainty bowls during meals, completely
oblivious of its provenance or the manner by which it was prepared.