Seaweed Drying on the Beach

Japan's Shonan area is nice in summer, but living here I think winter is wonderful. A crisp, cold breeze and blue skies. The sunshine is strong, and the sea turns a clear emerald color. With the snow-capped Mount Fuji visible in the distance, I take a deep breath. I always tell my friends who live far away to come visit me in winter.

Wearing a down jacket, a scarf, and plenty of sunscreen, I take a walk along the beach. There are surfers and runners. Children having fun. Dogs wagging their tails as they chase the waves. Even though it's cold, the beach is lively.

In February, you can see Wakame seaweed drying everywhere. In the large drying areas set up on the beach, long, slender pieces of Wakame sway in the sea breeze.

Ah, this year's annual event has begun. I can't help but smile when I think that it's almost Wakame Cuisine: Shabu-shabu season. As soon as I put the slimy black seaweed in the boiling water of a pot, it turns a striking green. This moment moves me every year, even though I know it. The color, reminiscent of fresh greenery, makes me feel excited about the coming spring.

Dried Wakame is a familiar sight now, but when I moved to Kamakura, I was quite surprised and asked, "What is that?!" A huge laundry drying area (?) appears on the sandy beach, and there are countless flutters hanging from it. I grew up only knowing product dried-Wakame seaweed in bags and salted-Wakame seaweed. I never cared about raw Wakame was turned into these foods.

I stared at the Wakame closely, understanding, "Wow, Wakame seaweed is so long, and they boil it immediately after harvesting it and dry it on the beach".

It must be a rare sight for people visiting from overseas. I saw some people taking pictures with the Wakame in the background, and others walking up close and sniffing its scent. Even if they know it's seaweed, they may not imagine that it's food and preserved for consumption.

Dried Wakame seaweed at Sakanoshita, Kamakura. In the dazzling sunlight.

We eat Wakame seaweed all year round in Miso soup, with vinegared dishes, simmered dishes and salads, but there are many people in the world who are not accustomed to eating it. This is also the case with Nori, Hijiki and Mozuku.

Since the Sushi boom, people abroad have started eating Nori, but it was previously called Black Paper and unpopular in the United States and Europe. It has no taste, and it sticks to the inside of the mouth, making it difficult to eat. Even more so when you know that Nori is actually seaweed. The only images that come to mind are images of seaweed floating in the ocean or washed up on the beach, covered in sand, and it seems impossible to imagine it appearing on the dinner table.

In general, Wakame is called seaweed in English. Nori is also called seaweed. Hijiki and Mozuku are also types of seaweed, and they are often not distinguished by individual names as in Japan. Seaweeds are all lumped together under the same umbrella.

A few years ago, my husband's friend's Norwegian family came to visit and we showed them around Shonan Hayama's coast. It was mid-February, and they were also curious about the dried Wakame. Local people were squatting and picking something on the rocky shore as the tide went out. Aosa or Iwa-Nori? There are so many different types of seaweed that I don't even know what they are, even though we usually eat a lot of them.

A young Norwegian couple and a small girl were surprised and asked, "Do you even eat that thing that's attached to rocks?" It seems that even in Scandinavian countries where seafood is abundant, not everyone eats seaweed.

The sea breeze and the scent of the seashore vary by region. The Japanese archipelago is surrounded by the sea, and each region has its own smell of the ocean and seaweed. In the past, people gave them names and devised ways to cook them. There is Tengusa, which becomes agar, Akamoku which has recently been reevaluated as a superfood. When Ego-Nori is boiled and solidified, it becomes "Okuto" in Fukuoka and "Ego" in Sado island. Okinawa's thick and soft Mozoku and Sado's thin and slimy Mozoku are both delicious.

A story I heard from a fisherman in Kamakura a while ago. Until the Showa era, Nori seaweed was cultivated in Zaimokuza beach near here. It is said that aquaculture stakes were driven into the sea, and the slops were lined up on the beach to dry.

Why did you stop farming? When I asked, it was because the sea water temperature had risen by about 2 degrees. Apparently, seaweed is no longer well grown in Kamakura due to global warming. This means that as seawater temperatures have been rising in recent years, perhaps the Wakame may also be the same.

The Wakame Shabu-shabu that we eat in huge portions every year may be becoming a rare treat. I hope Wakame drying, Shonan tradition, will continue to adorn the beaches in early spring.

*Excerpt from the Tomoko Hoshino's latest essay