Binchotan Scorched Daikon Roast with Hatcho Miso Glaze

Introduction

In the quiet of the morning, I look to the roots that have slept beneath the soil. Today, we celebrate the transition of seasons with a scorched roast that honors the earth. This dish uses the humble Daikon, simmered in kombu dashi until tender, then kissed by the intense heat of binchotan charcoal. The charring—what we call the scorched soul of the vegetable—creates a bridge between the sweetness of the radish and the deep, fermented funk of aged miso. It is a meditation on fire and patience.

Ingredients

• 1 large thick Daikon radish, peeled and cut into 3-inch rounds
• 1 piece of dried Kombu (approx 4 inches)
• 1 liter filtered water
• 3 tablespoons aged Hatcho Miso (fermented at least 2 years)
• 2 tablespoons Mirin
• 1 tablespoon Sake
• 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
• Fresh Yuzu zest for garnish
• A pinch of black sea salt
• Shiso micro-greens for plating

Instructions

1. Begin by performing katsuramuki to peel the daikon, removing the tough outer layer until you reach the translucent flesh.
2. Place the daikon rounds in a pot with the water and kombu. Simmer very gently for 40 minutes until a bamboo skewer pierces them with no resistance. Do not boil.
3. While the daikon simmers, whisk together the Hatcho miso, mirin, and sake in a small bowl until smooth. This is your glaze.
4. Prepare your grill or a heavy cast-iron pan until it is smoking hot. If using binchotan, wait until the coals are white.
5. Pat the simmered daikon dry. Place them directly onto the heat. Sear until the edges are deeply scorched and blackened in places, about 3-4 minutes per side.
6. Brush the top of each daikon round generously with the miso glaze. If using a grill, cover for 1 minute to let the miso caramelize and bubble.
7. Remove from heat and plate on an asymmetrical ceramic dish. Top with a whisper of yuzu zest, a few grains of black salt, and a single shiso leaf.

As you eat, notice the contrast between the blackened exterior and the meltingly soft heart of the radish. This is the essence of wabi-sabi: finding beauty in the scorched and the imperfect. I hope this dish brings a moment of stillness to your day.

Hiroshi