by Emily Connor
There are a few questions that the Japanese seem to love asking to foreigners. Can you read kanji? Are you good at figuring out the train system? Can you use chopsticks? It's a constant test to see how well you've managed to assimilate to the land of the rising sun.
But my favorite question by far has to be ''Can you eat natto?''.
For those of you who don't know and haven't had the opportunity to try this culinary delight, natto is fermented soybeans that are insanely good for the body but insanely harsh on the five senses. The Japanese have been eating natto since the beginning of mankind, using it in many forms of cuisine, all of which I can't stand. You can eat it over rice with a raw egg, eat it wrapped up in maki-sushi, eat it right out of the package, and many other ways that I'm just uninformed about. No matter what you do to the stuff, though, it's just not palatable for me.
Don't get me wrong, though. Whenever I'm asked if I can eat sushi, tofu, konbu, wagashi-- many things, really-- I always answer 'yes'. I won't lie about not liking uni, though. Eating the skin on chicken meat also freaks me out. I'm not going to lie and say that I enjoy natto, though. A lot of foreigners (like me) who come to Japan and want to fit in with the natives probably have made such a mistake and regretted it miserably. We Westerners weren't raised on natto, and weren't genetically engineered to even be able to swallow it properly.
The first time I tried natto it was in an izakaya in Okinawa. It was a really nice and well-known place, and a Japanese friend of mine was treating us all to dinner, so when she ordered natto-maki I felt obligated to at least try a piece. I figured that the rice, nori and shoyu would mask the flavor that was rumored to be unpalatable by so many. I put the natto-maki in my mouth and chewed, chewed, and chewed and the natto just wouldn't disintegrate in my mouth, and the pungent aroma of the fermented soybeans just wafted into my nasal cavities, almost causing me to gag. Spitting the food out of my mouth would be unacceptable, so I eventually managed to swallow it down after about three minutes of downing a glass of water in attempt to force the natto down my throat. Needless to say I wasn't a fan.
But my burning desire to someday be able to deliciously consume natto didn't end there. I was convinced that it would grow on me if I ate it enough times. They say that humans aren't capable of really enjoying the full-flavor of whiskey until they're in their forties, and I thought that maybe natto would be the same way for me. If I trained my palate and tried it in enough forms, just maybe I would be able to see what all of the rave was about. My futile attempts failed me, though. To this day I am not capable of enjoying natto.
Perhaps, though, natto isn't even delicious to Japanese people. Maybe they just say it's delicious because they eat it from when they're children, and told by their parents that it's good for you and that it's important to eat. It could possibly be comparable to when I was a child and told to eat my Flinstone chewable vitamins every morning before school even though the purple one tasted like cough syrup and I hated them with a passion. On some days I would just hide it under my tongue until I got out of the door and spit it out into the bushes, but there were days when I would stomach the potent flavor because I wanted to grow up to be big and strong. Apparently it worked, because I now stand at an impressive 176 centimeters. Thanks, Fred Flinstone.
When you come to Japan, try natto in attempt to mingle with the locals. Don't expect to enjoy it, though.
There are a few questions that the Japanese seem to love asking to foreigners. Can you read kanji? Are you good at figuring out the train system? Can you use chopsticks? It's a constant test to see how well you've managed to assimilate to the land of the rising sun.
But my favorite question by far has to be ''Can you eat natto?''.
For those of you who don't know and haven't had the opportunity to try this culinary delight, natto is fermented soybeans that are insanely good for the body but insanely harsh on the five senses. The Japanese have been eating natto since the beginning of mankind, using it in many forms of cuisine, all of which I can't stand. You can eat it over rice with a raw egg, eat it wrapped up in maki-sushi, eat it right out of the package, and many other ways that I'm just uninformed about. No matter what you do to the stuff, though, it's just not palatable for me.
Don't get me wrong, though. Whenever I'm asked if I can eat sushi, tofu, konbu, wagashi-- many things, really-- I always answer 'yes'. I won't lie about not liking uni, though. Eating the skin on chicken meat also freaks me out. I'm not going to lie and say that I enjoy natto, though. A lot of foreigners (like me) who come to Japan and want to fit in with the natives probably have made such a mistake and regretted it miserably. We Westerners weren't raised on natto, and weren't genetically engineered to even be able to swallow it properly.
The first time I tried natto it was in an izakaya in Okinawa. It was a really nice and well-known place, and a Japanese friend of mine was treating us all to dinner, so when she ordered natto-maki I felt obligated to at least try a piece. I figured that the rice, nori and shoyu would mask the flavor that was rumored to be unpalatable by so many. I put the natto-maki in my mouth and chewed, chewed, and chewed and the natto just wouldn't disintegrate in my mouth, and the pungent aroma of the fermented soybeans just wafted into my nasal cavities, almost causing me to gag. Spitting the food out of my mouth would be unacceptable, so I eventually managed to swallow it down after about three minutes of downing a glass of water in attempt to force the natto down my throat. Needless to say I wasn't a fan.
But my burning desire to someday be able to deliciously consume natto didn't end there. I was convinced that it would grow on me if I ate it enough times. They say that humans aren't capable of really enjoying the full-flavor of whiskey until they're in their forties, and I thought that maybe natto would be the same way for me. If I trained my palate and tried it in enough forms, just maybe I would be able to see what all of the rave was about. My futile attempts failed me, though. To this day I am not capable of enjoying natto.
Perhaps, though, natto isn't even delicious to Japanese people. Maybe they just say it's delicious because they eat it from when they're children, and told by their parents that it's good for you and that it's important to eat. It could possibly be comparable to when I was a child and told to eat my Flinstone chewable vitamins every morning before school even though the purple one tasted like cough syrup and I hated them with a passion. On some days I would just hide it under my tongue until I got out of the door and spit it out into the bushes, but there were days when I would stomach the potent flavor because I wanted to grow up to be big and strong. Apparently it worked, because I now stand at an impressive 176 centimeters. Thanks, Fred Flinstone.
When you come to Japan, try natto in attempt to mingle with the locals. Don't expect to enjoy it, though.
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