For us, it is just another product from the supermarket. But in Japan, surimi is considered one of the most important food-related inventions in its history, occupies a prominent place on the menu of celebrations and even has its own museum and even a legend that dates its origin to the 3rd century. We have traveled to Odawara, the birthplace of surimi, to learn more about this product that is used as the basis for dozens of preparations in Japan, and in Spain to make crab sticks and baby eels.
They say that the warrior empress Yingu invented surimi to feed her soldiers and that she cooked it over a fire on the tip of her spear. Those who prefer a slightly more documented reference, there are writings from the year 1115 in which the consumption of this product is already discussed among the country's upper classes. Yes, the origin of what we know as crab sticks or txaka in the north is at least 1000 years old.
And no crab, by the way. Surimi emerges as a way of preserving fish. After washing it repeatedly, the non-soluble protein that remains crushed allows the creation of a white paste. If salt is added, it becomes moldable until the heat, when cooking it, fixes its shape.
The comparison with egg white is the usual example that those responsible for Krissia -one of the main brands of surimi sticks in Spain and organizer of this trip- use to explain in a very simple way the behavior of what they call "surimi matter". cousin". In the 1960s -explains Yaiza Donaire, from Krissia- they discovered how to freeze this fish protein, and thus began the process of industrialization and export to the whole world.
In 1962, surimi was used as a base to make kunikama, the Japanese name for crab sticks. The name is not accidental, because it was about imitating the legs of the royal crabs, highly appreciated, but which were becoming scarce. In fact, in Japanese supermarkets it is not uncommon to see surimi that directly mimics the shape of crab legs.
It is one of the dozens of options available in any Japanese supermarket where, in the refrigerated section, there are usually a few shelves dedicated to surimi. From sausages, to fish balls, rolls, preparations stuffed with cheese and even sweet jelly beans.
With more texture than flavor, surimi can also be the base of preparations that tend to be sweet. And, of course, since we are in Japan, there is no shortage of a repertoire in the form of dolls, faces, animals, many colors...
But what does the surimi carry? The idea that it is made from fish remains is, apparently, quite widespread. At least in Spain, because in Japan everyone is clear that this product, a regular part of their diet, is pure fish protein. What's more, it would not be possible to do it with bones or non-noble parts of the fish, they explain from Krissia, because the surimi base formulation would not work.
Loins of different white fish can be used, but Alaska pollock is one of the most common. Freshly caught, many times it is processed on the boat itself. Surimi arrives frozen in Spain from Japan and, in the case of Krissia, salt, paprika -which provides the orange color of some stripes-, oil, egg white, starch...
But let's go back to Japan. In Kobe, in addition to its famous wagyu beef, the Ikuta temple is a must stop on this route around surimi. And it is that there is a small monument that remembers the legend of Yingu and is the annual meeting point for the country's surimi products, as one of the monks in charge of watching over the place explains to us. For its preparation, fishing and good fresh water are needed to wash the fish, and this area meets both conditions.
In Odawara, near Hakone, the kamaboko museum is definitive proof that this food is not just another in Japanese food culture. This elaboration is the simplest of surimi, in the form of a semicircular ingot and placed on a wooden tablet. It is one of the must-have snacks on New Year's Day and is also traditionally eaten at Shinto weddings. The white one with a pink stripe is the most classic.
In addition to reviewing its history, visitors to this unique museum (Suzuhiro Kamaboko no Sato) can also learn how to make it in a workshop where surimi paste is worked with the help of a metal spatula, trying to shape it.
White in color -the whiter, the better quality, they explain- and with a rubbery consistency, this is one of the few places where it is still produced by hand, because in general it is a highly industrialized process.
Odawara also has its own kamaboko street, where various shops sell kamaboko. Not to tourists -who are not abundant around here either- but to the local clientele who come to buy it for themselves or to give it away in beautiful trays that include different shapes and colors.
The oldest opened its doors in 1781 and its founder is credited with creating this kamaboko ingot. The wooden tablet, by the way, is not ornamental: it is designed to absorb moisture and keep it better, even when there were no refrigerators.
In the museum different graphics explain the theory of non-soluble proteins and how they change with salt and heat. After the workshop, when washing your hands, it is clear that surimi is not soluble, because it is difficult to remove the remains that remain between the fingers. The result, as with many Japanese dishes where texture prevails over flavor, is not very successful in Western palates.
It's not just a random opinion. The tastings and tests among consumers carried out by Krissia confirm that in Spain the kamaboko has little to do. Possibly neither the chikuwa, although perhaps it could have a bit more of a run as street food. It is a surimi placed along a bamboo stick and cooked on the grill, which gives a more attractive toasted tone to the exterior and a crunchy point.
Although these two preparations are totally unknown in Spain, there is a more common surimi format: naruto. Literally spiral in Japanese, it is that small round sheet usually decorated with a pink spiral that is often included in ramen.
In Japan, the list of dishes that incorporate it is immense. Surimi is never missing from a Japanese fridge, they tell us when we ask about it. Even in the oden, something similar to a Japanese stew, this ingredient is usually added.
The omnipresence of a product that is sometimes viewed here with some mistrust is really surprising, or as a mere ingredient for a salad or sandwich. And, of course, in one of the most popular Basque pintxos: surimi sticks with eggs and mayonnaise or pink sauce. Who was going to tell the brave Empress Yingu that, so many centuries later, her invention was going to succeed in the pintxos bars of Donosti.
