By Jay Friedman
Shigeyuki Sakuma, chef at the official residence of the consul general for Japan, about the quality of Japanese food in Seattle, and his diplomatic and definitive reply is, “We have lots of good ingredients here and many restaurants doing good Japanese food.”
But when I ask him and a host of other local Japanese chefs to define kaiseki, I get considerable hesitation and even some hemming and hawing.
Where everyone agrees is that kaiseki falls under the umbrella of Kyo-ryori, or Kyoto cuisine. Just what is this cuisine, which remains the pride of Japan’s former capital city? Sakuma says that “Kyoto has its own culture, history and atmosphere where people’s customs and lifestyle are different than elsewhere,” and where, after 1,200 years of history, “everything is just concentrated into the cuisine.” He adds that “if you live in Kyoto a long time, you naturally have a feeling and learn by being there and absorbing…there are no rules, it’s just by being.” Like Sakuma, chef Hirokazu Tawara of Sushi Kappo Tamura worked in Kyoto, but says “you don’t really think what Kyo-ryori is…you just do it.”
Both emphasize that it’s cuisine inspired by the seasons, using local ingredients. Taichi Kitamura, chef/owner of Sushi Kappo Tamura, stresses that Kyo-ryori “is very specifically local, as in “we picked this bamboo shoot at this particular time this morning at this particular bamboo forest at this particular village.’”
One of the most critical ingredients is actually water. Consider the high water content in tofu (and yuba), for example, and you can see why water quality is key in Kyo-ryori. Kyoto is the site of many natural springs, the source of fresh, sweet water. The rivers and streams in the area create fertile land that produces fine-quality fruits and vegetables.
Pristine water is important for the brewing of tea, an integral part of Kyo-ryori meals. And don’t forget dashi. The best bonito and the freshest of water will yield the best dashi, which Masa Nakashima, chef at Bellevue’s I Love Sushi, describes as “the life blood of the cuisine.”
While Kyo-ryori features refined preparation and artistic presentation (with serving dishes and other flourishes that reflect the flora and fauna of seasons), Sakuma says the food draws on the natural flavor of the ingredients—and that you should “never ruin that original flavor.” For example, he might use mirin and sugar in cooking a fresh vegetable, but he would never use so much as to make the vegetable unnaturally sweet. Or unnaturally colorful, as the original color is important.
One of the foremost masters of kaiseki cuisine, Yoshihiro Murata of the three-Michelin-starred Kikunoi in Kyoto (he also boasts two stars each for Kikunoi Roan in Kyoto and Kikunoi Akasaka in Tokyo), has been quoted as saying, “I have eaten a variety of food around the world, but I don’t know any country where people are so particular about the natural flavor of ingredients as in Japan.” In contrast to French cooking, Japanese cuisine demands that you don’t disguise those natural flavors with sauces, but instead let the foods shine for what they are.
As a result, Kyo-ryori has elegance and grace. It’s sophisticated and yet full of simplicity and subtlety. It doesn’t hurt that it’s healthy. Oh…and it’s beautiful — a point on which all the local chefs, as well as diners, find agreement.