Skillet & Sage

The regional table / Hawaii

Saimin

The noodle in this bowl fails the federal standard of identity for a noodle on two separate counts, which is a good joke and also the most useful thing to know before shopping for one.

Saimin came out of the sugar and pineapple camps, and the camps are documented by the United States government. The Report of the Commissioner of Labor Statistics on Hawaii, transmitted to Congress in 1916 and long out of copyright, is specific about the economics of eating there. Rice, it says, was "the principal item in oriental food budgets"; Japanese single men paid "about $7 per month for board, and this rate has not changed much for several years", while "a small family spends about $10 a month for provisions". It gives the wage scale without embarrassment: late in 1910 the base rate for Caucasian field hands was raised "from $22 to $24 a month, following an earlier increase from $18 to $20 a month for Orientals". It records that about half the sugar companies ran plantation stores, that workers used them because the location was convenient and credit was assured against wages, and that "outside of the larger towns most of the retail establishments except the company stores are conducted by Orientals". That is the world this dish was assembled in — Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, Portuguese and Korean workers housed in separate camps on differentiated wages, buying from company stores, cooking in sight of each other. No single community invented saimin and none of them owns it; it is what happens when several kitchens share a plantation for fifty years. The usual account of the name as a Chinese term for a thin noodle is plausible and I could not verify it from anything I opened, so I am leaving it as somebody else's claim.

The dated print record picks the dish up as an industry. A United Press International story by Ruth Youngblood, datelined Honolulu and printed in Florida's Lake City Reporter on 2 February 1972 under the headline "The noodle goes exotic in Hawaii", profiles Yoshio Yanagisako, who had founded the Island Noodle Factory in Honolulu twenty-eight years earlier — about 1944 — and been its president ever since. He reckoned he held roughly 75 per cent of the local institutional saimin market "through hotels, restaurants and saimin stands", and he wanted to sell it on the mainland: his pitch was that Italian pizza was selling in Japan and Mexican tacos across the United States, so "Why not sell saimin on the mainland?" The product he was proposing was a packet of already-cooked wheat noodles with an soup base for twenty-five cents, made up by adding about a cup and a half of water and bringing it to the boil. The same story records saimin as something children ate as a snack and saimin stands as carnival attractions, and lists its uses — as a soup course, as a main dish with beef, pork, mushrooms or shrimp mixed in, as a snack, or for breakfast. Eleven years later James Kelly, writing on changing foodways in Social Process in Hawaii in 1983, notes it being served in small restaurants including McDonald's and judges it a modified and even Westernised dish rather than a straightforwardly Asian noodle soup. By 18 June 1999 it is on an Army dining-hall menu in the Kwajalein Hourglass. Nobody cooks for this site and the quantities below were worked out for this page.

Why this version works

Noodles are cooked in water and the broth is poured over them. Fresh alkaline noodles shed a great deal of starch and some of their alkalinity into whatever they cook in, so cooking them in the broth clouds it, thickens it and shifts its taste. Boil them in plenty of unsalted water for the minute or two they need, lift them out, and if they are not going straight into bowls, rinse them briefly and drain hard. Then the hot broth goes over. Done the other way round you get a thick murky soup that is a perfectly decent dinner and is not saimin.

The toppings are a camp inventory, and they go on last and raw-cold. What is on a saimin is what the camps and the stores had: Chinese char siu, Japanese kamaboko with its pink-painted rim, green onion, and after the war whatever the commissary sold, which is how spam and a sliced boiled egg got onto the list. None of it is cooked in the soup. Slice everything in advance, arrange it on the noodles, and pour the broth in at the side of the bowl so the arrangement survives. The cold toppings dropping into hot broth is part of how the dish eats — the first mouthfuls are hot and clean, and the pork and the fish cake warm through as you go.

The broth is thin on purpose and it is a seafood broth, not a pork one. This is the thing most mainland cooks get wrong, usually by making ramen instead. A saimin broth is clear and light — dried shrimp and kombu, sometimes with dried fish, and soy only to season — and you should be able to see the pattern on the bottom of the bowl through it. It is thin because it is carrying very little: the pork, the fish cake and the onion are sitting on top, undissolved, and the broth's job is to be savoury, hot and clean rather than rich. Simmering it hard or boiling the kombu makes it bitter and cloudy. Bring it barely to a simmer, take the kombu out before it boils, and strain it.

The noodle fails the federal definition of a noodle, twice, and that is how you identify the right one. The standard of identity at 21 CFR 139.150 requires that a noodle product be made by "drying formed units of dough", that the finished product contain "not less than 87 percent of total solids", and that those solids contain "not less than 5.5 percent by weight of the solids of egg, or egg yolk". A saimin noodle is sold fresh and wet, nowhere near 87 percent solids, and contains no egg at all — its yellow colour and springy snap come from alkaline salts worked into the dough, not from yolk. Search the whole Code of Federal Regulations for ramen, for alkaline noodle, for kansui, and you get nothing: the category simply is not regulated. So do not buy dried egg noodles, which are a different object in law and in the bowl. Buy fresh, yellow, wavy, eggless wheat noodles from a chiller.

Ingredient notes

The broth: six cups of water, a hand-sized piece of kombu, a generous quarter-cup of dried shrimp, and three tablespoons of shoyu. That is the whole thing. Dried shrimp are the characteristic saimin note and are sold cheaply in bags; rinse them first. Katsuobushi can go in with or instead of the shrimp for a smokier broth. Do not use chicken stock as a base, do not add ginger or garlic, and do not reduce it — this is a broth you build and strain in half an hour, not one you simmer down.

The noodles: a pound of fresh saimin noodles, which an Asian grocer may sell under that name in Hawaii and almost certainly will not elsewhere. What you are looking for is fresh wavy wheat noodles, pale yellow, no egg in the ingredients, sold refrigerated — fresh ramen or fresh chow mein noodles are the same object. Avoid anything dried and anything labelled egg noodles, which 21 CFR 139.150 requires to be both dried and at least 5.5 percent egg solids and which behaves completely differently. If you can only get dried ramen, use it and expect a firmer, less slippery bowl.

The toppings: about half a pound of char siu, sliced thin, and a third of a pound of kamaboko. Char siu from a Chinese barbecue counter is the easy route; sliced roast pork loin is a fair substitute and is what the composition figures below assume, at 8.8 grams of fat and 26.4 grams of protein per hundred. Kamaboko is the steamed fish-paste loaf with the pink-painted edge, cut in quarter-inch half-moons; surimi records about 15 grams of protein and under a gram of fat per hundred, so it is there for texture and for the look of the thing rather than richness. Spam, fried and sliced, and a halved soft-boiled egg are both legitimate and both later.

The garnish and the table: four spring onions sliced thin, and that is the only compulsory garnish. Put chilli water or a bottle of chilli sauce, extra shoyu and Chinese mustard on the table; shichimi if you have it. Some stands serve a small plate of pickled vegetables alongside. Nori is optional and goes on at the last second or it turns to paper in the broth. Resist the urge to add corn, butter or a soft-centred marinated egg, all of which belong to ramen.

Step by step

  1. Build the broth and keep it off the boil. Put six cups of cold water, the kombu and the rinsed dried shrimp into a pan and bring it slowly towards a simmer over medium-low heat, about 15 minutes. Lift the kombu out just before the water boils — boiled kombu goes slimy and bitter. Let the shrimp simmer gently for another 10 minutes, then strain the broth through a sieve, return it to the pan and stir in the shoyu. Taste and keep it hot but not boiling.
  2. Slice all the toppings before any noodle goes in the water. Cut the char siu into thin slices, the kamaboko into quarter-inch half-moons, and the spring onions into thin rings. Warm four deep bowls with hot tap water and tip it out. From the moment the noodles go into the water the dish takes two minutes, so there is no time to be cutting pork.
  3. Boil the noodles in plenty of plain water. Bring a large pan of unsalted water to a rolling boil — unsalted because the broth is doing the seasoning and the noodles are salted already. Shake the fresh noodles loose and drop them in, stirring once to separate. Fresh saimin noodles need 1 to 2 minutes and no more; they should be springy with no raw floury core. Taste one rather than trusting a clock.
  4. Drain hard and divide between the bowls. Lift the noodles out with tongs or a spider, or drain them in a colander and shake it several times — water carried into the bowl dilutes the broth, which has no body to spare. Divide them between the four warm bowls and nest them rather than spreading them flat.
  5. Arrange the toppings on the noodles. Lay the char siu over one side of each nest and the kamaboko over the other, keeping them in a visible arrangement rather than mixing them in. Add the spam or the egg here if you are using them. The bowl should look composed before any liquid touches it.
  6. Pour the broth in at the side and finish with onion. Ladle the hot broth in down the inside wall of the bowl, about a cup and a half each, so it rises under the noodles without washing the toppings off. Scatter the spring onion over the top and take it to the table at once, with the condiments. Saimin is eaten fast; the noodles soften noticeably within five minutes.
Cloudy, thick broth means the noodles were cooked in it — there is no separating them again, so eat it and cook the noodles in water next time. Bitter or slippery broth is boiled kombu; strain it, dilute with hot water and more shoyu, and pull the kombu earlier in future. Soft, bloated noodles were boiled too long or sat in the broth while you looked for the fish cake, which is why all the slicing happens first; undercook them by fifteen seconds rather than over. If the bowl tastes of nothing, it is short of shoyu rather than short of salt, and a teaspoon straight into the bowl fixes it at the table. And if the toppings have all slid to the bottom, the broth went in over the top instead of down the side of the bowl.

Storage and make-ahead

Only the broth keeps well, and it keeps very well: strained, it holds 4 days refrigerated and 3 months frozen, and it is worth making a double batch since it is thirty minutes of mostly waiting. Char siu keeps 4 days and slices better cold. Kamaboko keeps a week unopened and three days sliced. Fresh noodles keep only as long as the packet says, usually under a week, and they freeze acceptably in their packet.

What cannot be stored is an assembled bowl. Noodles left in broth keep absorbing it and within an hour you have a thick noodle porridge, so cook only the noodles you are about to eat and keep the rest of the packet dry. This is a dish built for a counter where the broth sits hot all day and each bowl is put together in ninety seconds — the 1972 story describes exactly that trade, saimin stands at carnivals and in restaurants and hotels, and the home version works best if you copy the arrangement rather than the timing.

What to serve with it

In Hawaii saimin arrives beside things rather than alone: a stick of teriyaki beef, a plate lunch, a hamburger, barbecue sticks at a carnival. If you want the local combination, grill a couple of skewers of soy-marinated beef and lay them across the bowl. Otherwise keep the table to condiments and something pickled — takuan, cucumber in vinegar, kimchi — because the broth is deliberately mild and wants a sharp thing beside it rather than in it.

To drink, green tea, barley tea or cold water; beer if it is dinner. Nothing creamy and nothing sweet. Afterwards, shave ice in summer or a slice of fresh pineapple, and in either case nothing heavy, since the point of a bowl of saimin is that you can eat one at eleven at night and sleep afterwards.

From the recipe box / Hawaii

Saimin

Fresh wheat noodles in a thin shrimp-and-kombu broth with char siu, pink-edged fish cake and green onion — the noodle soup Hawaii's plantation camps built out of several kitchens at once, and whose noodle cannot legally be called a noodle in the United States.

Prep
15 min
Cook
30 min
Total
45 min
Serves
4
Calories
480 per serving

Ingredients

Scale

Instructions

  1. Bring the water, kombu and rinsed dried shrimp slowly towards a simmer, 15 minutes, lifting the kombu out just before it boils.
  2. Simmer the shrimp gently 10 minutes more, strain the broth, return it to the pan and stir in the shoyu; keep hot, not boiling.
  3. Slice the char siu, kamaboko and spring onions and warm four deep bowls.
  4. Boil the fresh noodles in plenty of unsalted water for 1 to 2 minutes, tasting rather than timing, then drain hard.
  5. Nest the noodles in the bowls and arrange the pork and fish cake over them.
  6. Ladle about 1½ cups of hot broth down the side of each bowl, scatter the spring onion and serve at once with condiments.

Nutrition

Fat7 g (2 g saturated)
Sodium1150 mg
Protein33 g
Servingone bowl with noodles, broth and toppings
Calories480
Cholesterol60 mg
Carbohydrates69 g (2 g sugar, 3 g fiber)

Nutrition is an estimate calculated from the listed ingredients and is provided as a courtesy, not as dietary advice.

Questions readers ask

Who invented it?

Nobody, and that is the honest answer rather than a dodge. The dish is a product of Hawaii's plantation camps, where the 1916 federal report on labour conditions describes Japanese, Chinese and other workers living in company housing on wages set by ethnicity — $18 rising to $20 a month for "Orientals" against $22 rising to $24 for Caucasian field hands — buying from plantation stores, with rice as the principal item in their food budgets. Several noodle traditions met in that setting and saimin is what came out. The earliest commercial figure I could put a name and a date to is Yoshio Yanagisako, who according to a 1972 UPI story had founded the Island Noodle Factory in Honolulu about 1944 and supplied most of the islands' restaurants and saimin stands — but supplying a dish is not inventing it, and he never claimed to have.

Can I use dried noodles?

Yes, with a caveat about what to buy. Dried instant ramen blocks work and are closer to the right thing than dried egg noodles, which the federal standard at 21 CFR 139.150 defines as dried to at least 87 percent solids and containing at least 5.5 percent egg solids — a different product that cooks and tastes differently. Throw away the flavour sachet and use the broth here. Interestingly the packet version is not a modern cheat at all: the 1972 story has Yanagisako selling precooked noodles with a soup base for twenty-five cents, to be made up by adding a cup and a half of water, which is the instant noodle as a Hawaii product before most of the mainland had met one.

Is the spam traditional?

It is traditional in Hawaii and it is not original to the dish, which is a distinction worth keeping. Saimin predates the wartime commissaries that made tinned meat ubiquitous in the islands; the pork on a saimin was char siu first. Spam joined the topping list the way the boiled egg and, in some places, a slice of American cheese did — because it was in the store, cheap and good in the bowl. Fry it until the edges crisp and lay it on the noodles rather than letting it sit in the broth, where the salt leaches out and the slices go soft. If you want the oldest version of the bowl, leave it off and double the char siu.

How is saimin different from ramen?

In the broth, the noodle and the garnish, and the broth is the big one. Saimin broth is a light clear seafood stock — dried shrimp and kombu, seasoned with shoyu — where most ramen now served is built on pork bones or chicken and is deliberately rich and often cloudy. The saimin noodle is fresh, wavy, eggless and alkaline, and comparable to a fresh ramen noodle, but it is boiled in water and the broth is poured over it rather than cooked in it. And the toppings are a plantation-camp list rather than a Japanese one: char siu, kamaboko, green onion, and later spam and a boiled egg. No corn, no butter, no marinated soft egg, no chashu simmered in its own liquor.