You’ll know by now that I take my recipe ideas from a number of sources, ranging from recipes I’ve read to photos I see or even, on occasion, dreams I have had.

This week, my inspiration came more mundanely from a DVD I’d rented. I’ve been a big fan of foreign and art-house cinema since my college days, and enjoy watching films from all over the world, especially those from countries I haven’t been to.

One such country is Japan – it’s long been top of my wishlist, and I’ll get there eventually, but for now I must content myself with an obsession with their art, food, language and culture. I need to time my eventual trip there with the famous Hanami, also known as Cherry Blossom Time, when a slow tide of blossoming Sakura - cherry trees – sweeps north-east across the country, painting the countryside every shade of pink imaginable. It is, apparently, almost tear-inducing in its beauty, and the Japanese rightly celebrate this announcement of spring with festivals and a general feeling of well-being.

It is during this Hanami season that this captivating film begins. Called ‘Sweet Bean’, it is a very simple tale of a lonely man running a Dorayaki stall in a quiet suburban street somewhere outside Tokyo. Dorayaki are a popular street snack in Japan, often eaten on the hoof en-route to work or school, and they comprise two soft drop scone-type pancakes made with honey, which are pressed around a filling of soft, super-sweet paste made from azuki beans, and quite unlike anything we have in the West.

In the film the man, who is working under duress and not with any great passion, is visited by an old woman, Tokue, who leaves him a small tub of her own sweet bean paste, known as anko, and asks him to try it instead of the stuff he buys from the wholesaler. Instantly he’s transfixed by it, and takes Tokue on as an assistant. She shows him, in painstaking, loving detail, how to make the paste. In a mesmerising sequence, we watch her as she soaks and cooks the beans, listening to them as they cook, and treating them with utter reverence.

It’s a charming, heartbreaking film, and I highly encourage you to search it out. What I adore about the Japanese approach to food is the respect for the ingredients and the simplicity and traditions adhered to even now in the modern age.

Sweet Bean

A Dorayaki stall will never diversify to offer dumplings or grilled chicken. If you want that, there’ll be a yakitori stall nearby for sure. And that’s all you’ll get there. I love that idea that, for the Japanese, there’s a great pride in the devotion of one’s life to such simple matters, following traditional recipes and treating them with a solemnity and respect.

Well, I hardly need say that, by the end of the film I was hastily scribbling notes whilst wiping away the happy tears – it’s an emotional film!

My usual source of all things Oriental, the ever-reliable Dong Dong mini-market, down by the Huddersfield Hotel, had azuki beans in stock, and I pretty much had everything else I needed in the cupboards, so I set to work.

Making the sweet bean paste and the pancake batter should not be rushed, so this is a nice recipe to make on a day off – it’s a good one for the kids, too, as it’s very simple, but do be careful making the paste as it gets very hot and sticky.

You’ll also waste a couple of pancakes too, as you juggle the perfect size and the temperature of the pan – the honey and sugar in the pancakes makes them eager to caramelise quickly, so you’ll need to watch the first few carefully and adjust the heat accordingly.

But it’ll all be worth it as you take that first soft bite into the pleasant, unusual taste of a distant land.

For the anko paste:

400g azuki beans

250g white caster sugar

200g liquid glucose

1 tsp Maldon salt

Water

For the pancakes:

8 large free-range eggs

280g unrefined golden caster sugar

4 tbsps runny honey

340g plain flour

2 tsp baking powder

2 tbsps mirin

1 tbsp vegetable oil

Extras:

A wide non-stick frying pan

A ladle or jug for pouring the batter

Method:

To make the paste, firstly soak the beans overnight, then rinse carefully and thoroughly in running cold water. Put the washed beans in large saucepan and cover with cold water to a few centimetres above the level of the beans. Bring to the boil, turn off the heat and cover with a lid and stand for five minutes. Strain the beans, rinse in cold water and return to the pan.

Again, add just enough water to cover the beans and turn up the heat to high. Bring the beans to the boil, then immediately turn down the heat and gently simmer, stirring occasionally, trying to disturb the beans as little as possible. If the water gets too low, add a little extra boiling water. Simmer the beans for about an hour, with as little movement as possible; they are ready when completely soft and squishy but holding their shape.

Turn up the heat a little and add the sugar, glucose and salt. Stir constantly, ideally with a silicone spatula, getting into all the corners to avoid the paste catching. It will thicken as it cooks down; when you can draw a spatula through the paste and it stays clean for a couple of seconds, the paste is ready. Tip into a suitable container, or pass through a sieve first (this makes the smooth *koshian* version) – it’s up to you. I like the chunkier version. Set aside to cool. It spreads best at room temperature and be refrigerated when not required.

To make the pancakes whisk the eggs, sugar, and honey by hand or in a mixer, until the mixture becomes light, pale and fluffy. Sift the flour and baking powder into the bowl and gently fold the mixture together. Rest the mixture for about 30 minutes in the fridge, to allow the gluten to expand, making for a lighter pancake. Whisk in the mirin and oil to give a thick, fluid batter, like double cream.

Grease and wipe a suitable non-stick pan and set over a medium heat. Pour enough batter to make a disc about 8cm in diameter. When a few large bubbles begin to pop up through the batter the pancake is ready for turning. The cooked side should be a lovely deep, even brown colour. Stack the pancakes in pairs until you have used the batter.

To serve your Dorayaki, spread a few teaspoons of anko paste across a pancake and sandwich with another, the dark ‘first-cooked’ sides outward. Enjoy with a pot of green tea.