What do you think?
Rate this book
Food in Asia and the Pacific
Branding Japanese Food: From Meibutsu to Washoku
Branding Japanese Food is the first book in English on the use of food for the purpose of place branding in Japan. At the center of the narrative is the 2013 inscription of “Washoku, traditional dietary cultures of the Japanese, notably for the celebration of New Year” on UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The authors challenge the very definition of washoku as it was presented in the UNESCO nomination, and expose the multitude of contradictions and falsehoods used in the promotion of Japanese cuisine as part of the nation-branding agenda.
Cwiertka and Yasuhara argue further that the manipulation of historical facts in the case of washoku is actually a continuation of similar practices employed for centuries in the branding of foods as iconic markers of tourist attractions. They draw parallels with gastronomic meibutsu (famous products) and edible omiyage (souvenirs), which since the early modern period have been persistently marketed through questionable connections with historical personages and events. Today, meibutsu and omiyage play a central role in the travel experience in Japan and comprise a major category in the practices of gift exchange. Few seem to mind that the stories surrounding these foods are hardly ever factual, despite the fact that the stories, rather than the food itself, constitute the primary attraction. The practice itself is derived from the intellectual exercise of evoking specific associations and sentiments by referring to imaginary landscapes, known as utamakura or meisho. At first restricted to poetry, this exercise was expanded to the visual arts, and by the early modern period familiarity with specific locations and the culinary associations they evoked had become a fixed component of public collective knowledge.
The construction of the myths of meibutsu, omiyage, and washoku as described in this book not only enriches the understanding of Japanese culinary culture, but also highlights the dangers of tweaking history for branding purposes, and the even greater danger posed by historians remaining silent in the face of this irreversible reshaping of the past into a consumable product for public enjoyment.
Cwiertka and Yasuhara argue further that the manipulation of historical facts in the case of washoku is actually a continuation of similar practices employed for centuries in the branding of foods as iconic markers of tourist attractions. They draw parallels with gastronomic meibutsu (famous products) and edible omiyage (souvenirs), which since the early modern period have been persistently marketed through questionable connections with historical personages and events. Today, meibutsu and omiyage play a central role in the travel experience in Japan and comprise a major category in the practices of gift exchange. Few seem to mind that the stories surrounding these foods are hardly ever factual, despite the fact that the stories, rather than the food itself, constitute the primary attraction. The practice itself is derived from the intellectual exercise of evoking specific associations and sentiments by referring to imaginary landscapes, known as utamakura or meisho. At first restricted to poetry, this exercise was expanded to the visual arts, and by the early modern period familiarity with specific locations and the culinary associations they evoked had become a fixed component of public collective knowledge.
The construction of the myths of meibutsu, omiyage, and washoku as described in this book not only enriches the understanding of Japanese culinary culture, but also highlights the dangers of tweaking history for branding purposes, and the even greater danger posed by historians remaining silent in the face of this irreversible reshaping of the past into a consumable product for public enjoyment.
202 pages, ebook
First published February 1, 2020
1 person is currently reading
37 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
May 23, 2022
This excellent short volume challenges the successful UNESCO ICH List nomination of ‘washoku’, while situating it in a continuum of mythmaking about food primarily for commercial purposes going back to the 17th century (specifically looking at the notions of meibutsu and omiyage).
The authors show that the word washoku as described in the UNESCO nomination and promoted since (based in notions of typical meals cooked at home using traditional and local ingredients and methods) was largely invented for this purpose and does not reflect its prior usage.
It is further argued that the content of meals often used to characterize this definition of washoku (white rice, one soup and three side dishes) was not historically a widespread meal format for non elite Japanese until post-war economic development, before which it was unrealistic for most people to consume rice three times a day. Even after this there was more variation in meals than is often implied.
Evidence is provided that kaiseki cuisine was originally intended for the UNESCO nomination, but substituted by ‘washoku’ late in the process which was seen as more likely to ensure a successful application. Indeed since being added to the ICH List, images of gorgeous elite kaiseki cuisine have dominated promotional materials related to washoku at home and abroad, as opposed to the traditional home-cooked meals the word was said to represent. In short washoku becomes a recent redefinition pointing at traditions of questionable authenticity, utilized effectively to promote national pride at home, soft power abroad, and commercial gain for Japanese food industries.
The authors show that the word washoku as described in the UNESCO nomination and promoted since (based in notions of typical meals cooked at home using traditional and local ingredients and methods) was largely invented for this purpose and does not reflect its prior usage.
It is further argued that the content of meals often used to characterize this definition of washoku (white rice, one soup and three side dishes) was not historically a widespread meal format for non elite Japanese until post-war economic development, before which it was unrealistic for most people to consume rice three times a day. Even after this there was more variation in meals than is often implied.
Evidence is provided that kaiseki cuisine was originally intended for the UNESCO nomination, but substituted by ‘washoku’ late in the process which was seen as more likely to ensure a successful application. Indeed since being added to the ICH List, images of gorgeous elite kaiseki cuisine have dominated promotional materials related to washoku at home and abroad, as opposed to the traditional home-cooked meals the word was said to represent. In short washoku becomes a recent redefinition pointing at traditions of questionable authenticity, utilized effectively to promote national pride at home, soft power abroad, and commercial gain for Japanese food industries.
March 19, 2022
After Cwiertka's impressive Modern Japanese Cuisine: Food, Power and National Identity, “Branding Japanese Food” is somewhat of a let-down. Katarzyna Cwiertka and co-author Miho Yasuhara have an ideological ax to grind, and in this book they do little else but grind their axes, chopping away at the rather innocent concept of “washoku.”
Now in my view it was an important milestone when Japanese cuisine was in 2013 added by UNESCO to their “Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.” In that listing Japanese food was described as “Washoku, traditional dietary cultures of the Japanese, notably for the celebration of New Year.” There is a longer definition which says something about “the form of the daily meals at home of the Japanese (consisting of rice, soup, side dishes and pickled vegetables), eating habits at annual events, celebrations and ceremonial occasions that strengthen the bonds between people in local communities (such as o-sechi dishes at New Year, or the joint mashing of rice cakes) and local specialties.” (read the full definition at the UNESCO website: https://ich.unesco.org/en/RL/washoku-....
I hoped that this registration and the positive news it generated would promote interest in Japanese food, and also en passant help that wonderful beverage, Japanese sake, spread further around the world (and I think it indeed did so, as it enhanced the soft power of Japanese culture). The Japanese government undoubtedly also hoped it would give the Japanese more pride in their own food culture, which is under siege from fast food and changes in society which mean people have less leisure to prepare this time-and-labor consuming cuisine.
Now we come to the present book. Rice is central to washoku, but the authors argue that for most of the Japanese population, white rice was only for a few decades in the modern period a real staple food (it was too expensive, so other grains, tubers and beans were added to brown rice). They also maintain that most meals do not consist of the holy washoku set of “one soup and three side dishes” (plus rice and pickles), as most people through history ate only one side dish or none at all. I don’t see the problem the authors have here: rice was sacred in Japanese culture, so whether it was a daily dish for everybody or not, is irrelevant: eating rice was the ideal (and the same is mutatis mutandis true for “one soup, three side dishes”).
Another problem is that the authors don’t understand that advertising and promotion is something different from academic work. They look at the promotion of local specialties (meibutsu) and souvenirs (omiyage) in Japan in the past and see a parallel with the promotion of washoku, for these specialties were often linked to historical persons or origins which were not always historically proven. Perhaps they were not – product promotion is after all different from historical research.
Then the authors are irritated by the term “washoku”. This term - complain the authors - was very little used until it was picked up by the committee preparing the UNESCO application. And although the definition of Japanese food in the application is broader, Cwiertka and Yasuhara maintain that in fact it was in the first place the elite Kaiseki “haute cuisine” which was registered. Again, so what? Kaiseki is the apex of Japanese food, and its ideology has pervaded Japanese culture. We are talking about “branding” here, not about scientific definitions. Registering “Kaiseki” would have been too narrow, and the advantage of calling Japanese food “washoku” was exactly that it was a little used and therefore open term. On top of that, it is a word easy to pronounce and remember also for non-Japanese – that is exactly what you want when you are branding something!
Finally, the authors blame their colleagues, Japanese food scholars, including the great food historian Isao Kumakura, for not standing up against these "problems." As argued above, I don't really see these concerns (or they are too small to get excited about), and I am glad that these Japanese scholars looked over the walls of their classrooms at the greater good: the effective promotion and branding of Japanese food.
See also this interesting review by professor Eric Rath: https://networks.h-net.org/node/20904...
Now in my view it was an important milestone when Japanese cuisine was in 2013 added by UNESCO to their “Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.” In that listing Japanese food was described as “Washoku, traditional dietary cultures of the Japanese, notably for the celebration of New Year.” There is a longer definition which says something about “the form of the daily meals at home of the Japanese (consisting of rice, soup, side dishes and pickled vegetables), eating habits at annual events, celebrations and ceremonial occasions that strengthen the bonds between people in local communities (such as o-sechi dishes at New Year, or the joint mashing of rice cakes) and local specialties.” (read the full definition at the UNESCO website: https://ich.unesco.org/en/RL/washoku-....
I hoped that this registration and the positive news it generated would promote interest in Japanese food, and also en passant help that wonderful beverage, Japanese sake, spread further around the world (and I think it indeed did so, as it enhanced the soft power of Japanese culture). The Japanese government undoubtedly also hoped it would give the Japanese more pride in their own food culture, which is under siege from fast food and changes in society which mean people have less leisure to prepare this time-and-labor consuming cuisine.
Now we come to the present book. Rice is central to washoku, but the authors argue that for most of the Japanese population, white rice was only for a few decades in the modern period a real staple food (it was too expensive, so other grains, tubers and beans were added to brown rice). They also maintain that most meals do not consist of the holy washoku set of “one soup and three side dishes” (plus rice and pickles), as most people through history ate only one side dish or none at all. I don’t see the problem the authors have here: rice was sacred in Japanese culture, so whether it was a daily dish for everybody or not, is irrelevant: eating rice was the ideal (and the same is mutatis mutandis true for “one soup, three side dishes”).
Another problem is that the authors don’t understand that advertising and promotion is something different from academic work. They look at the promotion of local specialties (meibutsu) and souvenirs (omiyage) in Japan in the past and see a parallel with the promotion of washoku, for these specialties were often linked to historical persons or origins which were not always historically proven. Perhaps they were not – product promotion is after all different from historical research.
Then the authors are irritated by the term “washoku”. This term - complain the authors - was very little used until it was picked up by the committee preparing the UNESCO application. And although the definition of Japanese food in the application is broader, Cwiertka and Yasuhara maintain that in fact it was in the first place the elite Kaiseki “haute cuisine” which was registered. Again, so what? Kaiseki is the apex of Japanese food, and its ideology has pervaded Japanese culture. We are talking about “branding” here, not about scientific definitions. Registering “Kaiseki” would have been too narrow, and the advantage of calling Japanese food “washoku” was exactly that it was a little used and therefore open term. On top of that, it is a word easy to pronounce and remember also for non-Japanese – that is exactly what you want when you are branding something!
Finally, the authors blame their colleagues, Japanese food scholars, including the great food historian Isao Kumakura, for not standing up against these "problems." As argued above, I don't really see these concerns (or they are too small to get excited about), and I am glad that these Japanese scholars looked over the walls of their classrooms at the greater good: the effective promotion and branding of Japanese food.
See also this interesting review by professor Eric Rath: https://networks.h-net.org/node/20904...
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews