Gobo and Imo

Little words like gobo and imo always make me think of Sesame Street or some silly characters, but these are winter delights. Obachan just handed me the long muddy roots of some gobo (burdock root) from her from her friend and I'm going to add those to a thick soup made with the yama imo, the taro-like potatoes that we grow on the swampy side of the garden. Grated or mashed, these little roots make slime and are considered a treat by many, but I can't tolerate the texture. So I cut them, soak them a few minutes and then add them to a stew with all the root vegetables and little bit of pork or tofu and the starchy root slightly thickens the broth without being sticky.

The weather suddenly turned chilly so I have to continue switching our clothes and blankets for the season. The harvest moon was so gorgeous that past couple of evenings, a golden disc against the purple hills. There was quite a brisk wind yesterday - maybe it was the tail of that Pacific typhoon-it was very windy and so I hid indoors and looked at my weeds books, trying to identify the wild plants that like to take over my yard. Now that I'm learning more about them, I am less anxious to kill them all off. There are a few real enemies but some of the wild weeds are kind of pretty, as long as they don't get invasive. Big words for someone who is getting ready to cut them all down. Next chore: cut the weeds around the fields.