Things That Come in the Mail: Green Tea Kit Kat

Not so long ago, a coworker announced that he was finally going to go for his dream trip to Japan. Happy that he was embarking on his adventure of a lifetime, I told him to try some Wasabi Kit Kats. At this point, all I really knew about the Japanese food that isn't really imported is: 1) you can buy nearly everything in a vending machine and 2) they really like their Kit Kats in Japan. Little did I know that Wasabi Kit Kats actually exist, but are only sold in Shizuoka. Apparently, they are intended as gifts - you travel to a certain area of Japan and you can buy an exotic Kit Kat for your friends at home. This is what I'm lead to believe, but I'm not 100% certain.

My coworker came back, full of stories, and with 1 Kit Kat in hand. Green Tea. He left the price tag on for authenticity. I didn't mind that it didn't come from a vending machine. The package is actually a box, and you can send it in the mail, like a postcard. While I love getting mail, this Kit Kat was already doomed to being crushed in my purse. It didn't need an extra crunch from a postal worker.

What's the green tea kit kat all about? It's white chocolate that has green tea in it. That's it. Not really exciting, not really offensive. Is it something that I will really crave? I don't think so. Is it something to write home about? Only if you write on the back of the box & stick it in the mail.

Japanese Maultaschen (Maulza)

There are many things Japan and Germany have in common. Both are leaders in the automotive industry, both are economic powerhouses of the 20th century that are floundering in the new millenium; the fastest train in the world was built by Germans and is run in Japan. And let's not mention the war. Walking through Heidelberg, one will inevitably encounter a group of Japanese tourists, following their guide who is holding an umbrella high above her head (usually it's a female) . There are signs in the shops, in Japanese, informing shoppers that cuckoo-clocks are for sale inside, and there is a tax rebate available (at least I think this is what the signs say, it's what the English translations would have me believe).

Nonetheless, there is very little Japanese food to be found here, apart from the odd sushi bar. This fact surprises me, not only because of the apparent simmilarities, but also because of the 1 shared dish. Call them gyoza, call them maultaschen, they are the same. They are both not ravioli.

I wanted to make maultaschen last night, but I was missing a few key ingredients, such as bacon. What I did have was maultaschen dough (it's pretty much an average pasta dough), ground pork, ginger, garlic, spinach, soy sauce, green onions, and rice wine vinegar. I'm making maultaschen-gyoza tonight. I'm making Maulza.

Maulza
200 g ground pork
1 Tbsp minced ginger
1 tsp minced garlic
2 green onions, chopped (include the greens!)
1 Tbsp dark, sodium-reduced soy sauce
1 tsp rice wine vinegar
1/2 tsp sesame oil
150 g spinach, blanched
1 package Maultaschen dough (or 32 wonton wrappers)

Mix all ingredients except dough in bowl. On rolled out dough, drop 16 equal-ish amounts of filling. Use extra dough or wrappers as lids on the pockets. Pinch pockets tight.
Steam pockets for 3 minutes. Pan fry pockets. Serve with asian-style dipping sauce.

To the best of my knowledge, gyoza are made with shrimp and were imported by the Chinese, who call them jiao-zi (little pockets). The jiao-zi I have made have been out of pork and usually involve some sort of chili oil and chopped cabbage. Maultaschen, on the other hand, are mild (most German food is) and is often either in a soup or pan fried, served with a salad on the side. The word Maultaschen itself means "animal mouth" and, the story says that it was popular during lent as monks could hide their meat in the pocket of dough.

I don't really care what anyone calls them, but I'm yet to have ravioli like this!