Uri Nasubi

Uri Nasubi — Squash (melons) and eggplant.

September, Autumn is here now, the weather is cool. In my garden the squash is done and the eggplant is late. Fortunately, the grocery stores are stocked with both. In Fall, I like goulash and ratatouille. The Japanese prepare similar dishes.

During the trip known as Oku no Hosomichi, in the first week of September, at Kanazawa, Basho got the bad news that one of his pupils had died. Sora was unwell. This haiku, Basho notes, was written on a visit to a grass hut.

In the coolness of Autumn
let each of us peel these
— melons and eggplant

秋涼し手毎にむけや瓜茄子
aki suzushi te goto ni muke ya uri nasubi
Matsuo Basho, Autumn, 1689

aki (autumn) suzushi (cool, refreshing) te (hand, by hand) goto (each, each one; either each one of us, or each piece of fruit) ni muke (for the purpose of, goal) ya (emphasis) uri (melon, squash) nasubi (eggplant). One can find several recipes online for a Japanese meal consisting of squash and eggplant.

P.S. A Japanese proverb reads: “Don’t let your daughter-in-law eat your eggplants in Autumn,” meaning don’t let yourself get taken advantage of.

A literal translation suggests that one shouldn’t let one’s wife eat eggplant in autumn. The confusion arises because yome (嫁) can mean both ‘wife’ (bride) and ‘daughter in law.’ Either way there is some health concerns since eating eggplant may cause an acidic reaction in the stomach.

In Autumn, don’t feed your wife eggplants.
秋茄子は嫁に食わすな
akinasu wa yome ni kuwasuna

Basho did not intend his haiku as such. Rather, as part of the grieving process, let those present share in the grief by preparing a meal.

Shrimp Tonight?

Otsu, Shiga province, Summer 1690.
One wonders if death was on his mind:

やがてしぬけしきはみえず蝉の声
yagate shinu keshiki mo miezu semi no koe

Before long
the sounds of cicadas
will cease
Matsuo Basho, Otsu, Summer-Fall, 1690

At the conclusion of his nine month journey into the northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi), Matsuo Basho visited friends around Kyoto. He delayed his return to Edo, in the summer and fall of 1690, staying for almost four months at Otsu on Lake Biwa in a cottage known as Genju-an (the Unreal Cottage).

Yagate (before long) shinu (to die, pass away, cease) keshiki (scene, landscap) mo miezu (not hear or see) semi no koe (the voice of a cicada)

Then, as autumn approached he went to the fish market for dinner.

A fisherman’s shop, hmmm
Shrimp is mingled with
a camel-cricket, so what

海士の屋は小海老にまじるいとど哉

ama no ya wa koebi ni majiru itodo kana
Matsuo Basho, Sarumino, Otsu, Autumn, 1690

Shrimp is still served at Otsu’s restaurants in Shiga province. The shrimp are river and lake shrimp, so it is easy to see how a cricket can make its way into the fisherman’s catch.

Ama no ya (a fish shop) wa (possibly meaning hmmm or yes) koebi (small river shrimp, but I am not a culinary expert) ni majiru (mixed or mingled) itodo (a camel cricket — it looks like shrimp, picture a hump back cricket hiding in a basket of shrimp) kana (interrogative, well? or, what do you make of that?)

[Note. Matsuo Basho is buried in Otsu, on the ground of a Buddhist temple, Gichū-ji (義仲寺).]

Knotweed and Chili Pepper

Needs to simmer on the stove a little longer …

Otsu, Lake Biwa, Autumn 1690. Open the grass door to my hut, enjoy a simple vegetarian meal.

Open the door of my grass hut
Recognize flowering knotweed
and chili pepper

草の戸を知れや穂蓼に唐辛子
kusa no to o shire ya hotade ni togarashi
Matsuo Basho, Otsu, Autumn 1690

Basho often complained of stomach ailments. Therefore, he ate sparingly.

Notes. kusa no to (grass, of, door, i.e. door made of grass. A short hand was of saying the roof of the simple hut is made of thatched grass) o shire (know, see) ya (emphasis) hotade (flowering smartweed, or knotweed, the flower buds may be pink to red, ducks eat it. Compare the similar sounding hotate scallops, a fancier fare. Hotade has some medicinal value.) ni togarashi (red chili pepper).

Soup and Salad

On the Road Again

Its a lovely Spring day for a walk. And one can walk the coastal Tokaido Road (東海道), some 320 miles, between Tokyo (Edo) and Kyoto in about a week, stopping at one of the 53 post stations for a break. Mariko post station is almost halfway. A good place for soup and salad and plum blossoms viewing.

Plum blossoms,
Fresh greens and grated yam soup
At Mariko station

Plum like taros
at Mariko station
(you must try)
Tororo-Jiru

梅若菜丸子の宿のとろろ汁
Ume waka na Mariko no shuku no tororo jiru
Matsuo Basho, Tokaido Road, Spring 1691

The small round tender taro in the delicious Tororo-Jiru soup looked like plums to the tired Matsuo Basho. Tororo jiru soup (とろろ汁) is a specialty of the Chojiya teahouse (established 1596, still serving Tororo jiru soup) located in Mariko-juku, the 20th station on the Tokaido Road. Utagawa Hiroshige drew this clove shop in the ukiyo-e of Mariko-juku.

Recipe found on the internet:

Grate (each long slender) yam and cut the taros (root vegetables) into small round balls.
Cut the aburaage (tofu) to 1-cm width and finely chop the naganegi (scallions).
Bring the dashi stock (soup broth) to a boil, add the taros.
When the taros become tender, add the aburaage and boil for a moment.
Lower the heat and dissolve the miso (paste made from soybeans).
Place the miso soup in bowls and pour grated yam on top.
Serve the miso soup with sprinkled naganegi.
Enjoy!
(Source of recipe)

Translation Note. Ume (plum blossom) wa kana (young or fresh greens); Mariko (a station post on the Tokaido Road); no shuku (station, post town); no Tororo jiru (a sticky soup with grated mountain yam on top; jiru a homophone for shiru soup.)

Ume wa kana (梅若菜) — The first three characters are Chinese. Taken together they present several meanings. One, Basho is suggesting that the round balls of taro look like plums. Second, wakana, meaning young or fresh greens added to the soup, eaten under a plum tree in blossom. See Hiroshige’s image below. Third, wakana is the name for the thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth chapters of The Tale of Genji. Fouth, wakana can refer to a courteous young woman serving the soup.

**Chojiya teahouse** at Mariko, on the Tokaido Road, artist Utagawa Hiroshige, Minneapolis Art Institute

fuh·ged·da·boud·it

あら何ともなや昨日は過ぎて河豚汁
ara nan tomo na ya kinō wa sugite fukutojiru

oh well, nothing happened / yesterday has passed / eating pufferfish soup
Tosei (Matsuo Basho), Edo, 1678

Forget about it, Pufferfish

Written in the 5th year of Enpo, 1678, when Matsuo Basho was 34 years old. Then known as Tosei (Unripe Peach), young Matsuo was living in Edo’s Nihonbashi District, famous for the bridge of the same name, its Noh theaters, a famous fish market, and many cafes where aspiring haiku poets like Tosei sampled their wares.

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” they sometimes say in north Jersey and New York. It means the thing is not worth one’s time or energy. Forget about it.

Fugu soup (河豚汁, fukutojiru) is made with pufferfish. Pufferfish, blowfish, it is all the same, unless you get the poisonous part. The popular fugu soup is typically prepared tableside, hot-pot style, with cabbage and leeks. Best to eat in winter. Symptoms of poisoning take a little time. So, if you wake up the next morning and feel the same as you felt the day before, you’ll be happy, thinking last night’s worries were ridiculous.

Forget about it.

Fugu Soup with Pufferfish, 河豚汁, *fukutojiru*

You Be You

Being You

Your English teacher told you, your mother told you, no doubt, you’ve heard it a thousand times, a thousand ways,

“Be yourself and nobody else.”

Be yourself
everyone else
is already taken
Oscar Wilde, 19th c. Irish playwright and poet

The five month long journey into Japan’s northern interior, a trip that one day will become Oku no Hosomichi is over. Matsuo Basho will now spend his time editing his notes and haiku. A restful trip to Lake Biwa and the Ishiyama temple breaks up the monotony. Students still seek his advice.

don’t copy me,
like the second half
of a split melon!

我に似るなふたつに割れし真桑瓜
ware ni niru na futatsu ni wareshi makuwauri
Matsuo Basho, Summer, 1690

makuwa uri 真桑瓜, a sweet melon like a musk melon or cantaloupe.

Ecclesiastics says, “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” And English teachers say, “It has all been said, it is how you say it that makes the difference.”

Isn’t it ironic,
a translator saying,
“don’t copy me.”
Bashō no yōna

Eastern Colorado

Mid July, 2022. US 50

In July

Can I help to find a cantaloupe

Rocky Ford, Colorado

The local cops

Love to stop and chat at the Coffee Shop

The Coffee Shop in downtown Rocky Ford, Colorado, hot coffee, friendly chatter, cute jewelry.

There are piles of cantaloupe and watermelon and peaches on stands in Rocky Ford Calla Colorado. But it is too early in the season for these to be grown here.

Swink, Colorado

Swing, I think they need

A catchier name

Swing

Don’t blink

You missed it

La Junta, Colorado

Wow

They’ve got

A Walmart

Three towns in quick succession. Rocky Ford, Swink, and La Junta. The last is close to Bent’s Old Fort, an early settlement on the Santa Fe Trail. A way’s further to Las Animas.

Hurry, she said, let’s hurry

Why, I said,

You’ll miss this moment

Cannabis

Can’t miss it in

Las Animas

From Las Animas, it’s on to Hasty and La Mar. Beneath the ground is a giant aquifer quickly shrinking from the irrigation needed to water the crops.

Chili Peppers

To the non-foodies: shichimi togarashi is a spicy blend of seven spices that goes well with everything.

青くても/ 有べきものを /唐辛子
aoku te mo / arubeki mono o / tōgarashi

It should have stayed in
Its green attire
– A chili pepper
Matsuo Basho, September, 5th year of Genroku. 1692

Not So Spicy

Autumn 1692, Matsuo Basho is back in Edo (Tokyo), living in his third Basho-an, the cottage by a banana tree, from which he took his name. Tired of traveling, tired of guests, he lives for the most part in seclusion with a nephew and a woman named Jutei, possible his nephew’s wife. She perhaps tended the garden. She maybe cooked the dinner using the popular tōgarashi (唐辛子), red chili peppers. Basho, who lived with a stomach ailment for most of his life, would have preferred something not so spicy.

The red chili pepper did the trick.

I liked this haiku because I planted some chili peppers in my garden this spring and watched the green pepper turn red in late fall. Basho, I suspect thought the chili pepper none too spicy, and therefore, it should have kept its green attire.

Notes on Translation

The subtleties of the Japanese language often befuddle me. What should be so simple gets complex the more I try to delve into the meaning of things. For instance, ても, te mo should mean “even though”, but that doesn’t work. And tōgarashi, 唐辛子, the red chili is red because we know it ripens to that color. It is a popular ingredient in Shichimi, where a little bit goes a long way.

I have of course clothed the chili pepper in green “attire” like the Jolly Green Giant. Others have too.

Nothing But Radishes

In mid-December, when the last of the Chrysanthemums have turned brown in my garden, there is nothing but radishes. And some chard and parsley, practical and utilitarian, nothing pretty. By the winter of 1692, Matsuo Basho was home. Edo was now his home, or at least Fukagawa, the rural neighborhood just south of Edo across the Sumida River. His cottage, the Basho-an (Banana hut), which had burned down the previous winter was rebuilt. Basho was living with his nephew Toin and Jutei, possibly Toin’s wife but we cannot be sure.

Toin was ill, and would die in 1693. Toin’s illness may or may not have inspired this haiku.

菊の後大根の外更になし
kiku no ato/ daikon no hoka/ sara ni nashi

After chrysanthemums
All that’s outside are
White radishes
Matsuo Basho, Winter, 1692, 4th year of Genroku

If one prefers a Zen-like translation,

After Chrysanthemums
Beyond white radishes
— Nothing
Matsuo Basho, on radishes, 1692

Radishes, Daikon

Matsuo Basho had returned to Edo in the Winter of 1691, close to the end of his life, late 1694. Kiku, 菊, chrysanthemums loose their bloom in late November and are symbolic of long life.

Daikon, 大根, is a Japanese white radish. Avid winter gardeners know that when the last flower has faded, the hardy radish and some chard will linger on. Radishes “purify” the stomach, helping remove toxins in the body when eaten. Basho, who suffered stomach ailments through out his life would have relished or, at least tolerated, eating them.

Shi

Ni nashi, になし, nothing. I am not an expert on the Japanese language, but the sound “shi” can have multiple meanings including poem and death. Note to self. Don’t give your wife or girl friend four roses as the character for four, 四, sounds like “shi”.