Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia-Pacific Region (Reissued)

James Farrer; Shoko Imai; Rossella Ceccarini; Patricia Yarrow; Mauro Neves; Krishnendu Ray

This 2010 collection of readable scholarly papers on the globalization of culinary cultures in the Asian Pacific region has been reissued by the Sophia University Institute of Comparative Culture in a convenient new one-volume format.

Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region James Farrer, editor Jun Akamine Stephanie Assmann Sidney C. H. Cheung Rossella Ceccarini Jean Duruz James Farrer Shoko Imai Michiko Kubo Vanina Leschziner Mauro Neves Krishnendu Ray Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige Hiroyuki Tani David L. Wank Patricia Yarrow Kosaku Yoshino Institute of Comparative Culture, Sophia University First published by the Sophia University Institute of Comparative Culture 2010. Reissued by the Sophia University Institute of Comparative Culture 2021. Copyright © 2010 by the authors. Sophia University Institute of Comarative Culture 7-1 Kioicho, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan 102-8554 Website: https://www.icc-sophia.com/ in memoriam Yoshino Kosaku, scholar, colleague & humanist Kosaku Yoshino (right) planning for the Sophia conference with Maoro Neves, James Farrer, Linda Grove, and Rossella Ceccarini. Photo by Takefumi Terada (Professor Emeritus, Sophia University) Table of Contents Preface to the Reissued Collection i Chapter Abstracts and Bios iii Introduction 1 Part 1: Mobile Foods 15 Chapter 1 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia : Sidney C. H. Cheung 16 Chapter 2 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia : Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige 28 Chapter 3 Problems on Sea Cucumber Conservation : Jun Akamine 46 Chapter 4 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico : Hiroyuki Tani 58 Chapter 5 “Here’s Looking at You:” Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally : Patricia Yarrow 71 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines 96 Chapter 6 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World : Krishnendu Ray Chapter 7 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways : Stephanie Assmann 114 Chapter 8 Eating the West and Beating the Rest: Culinary Occidentalism and Urban Soft Power in Asia’s Global Food Cities : James Farrer 128 Chapter 9 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization : Kosaku Yoshino 150 Chapter 10 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Restaurants in Shanxi Province : David L. Wank 167 Chapter 11 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion : Mauro Neves 185 Chapter 12 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine : Michiko Kubo 202 Part 3: Mobile Producers 97 217 Chapter 13 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field : Vanina Leschziner 218 Chapter 14 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking “Asian” as Embedded Cosmopolitanism : Jean Duruz 234 Chapter 15 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan : Rossella Ceccarini 254 Chapter 16 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization : Shoko Imai 271 Preface to the Reissued Collection It has now been over a decade since these papers were first published as an online collection, and even longer since the conference at Sophia University in February 2009 in which they were first presented. Since then, a few of the chapters were republished in other forms. Most, however, have appeared only in an open-access online collection available on the webpage of the Institute of Comparative Culture at Sophia University. For the organizers at Sophia, the decision to produce an online book was always about making the collection broadly and freely available to a global audience. This was clearly achieved, and papers in the collection have been frequently cited in the literature on food and globalization. Although I am undoubtedly biased, I would regard some of these papers as foundational in the study of food and globalization in the Asia-Pacific, particularly when we look back and realize how marginal Asia was to discussions of culinary globalization as recently as the early 2000s. Other than this preface and a repagination of the manuscript as a single volume, we are not editing or updating the chapters in any way for this reissued collection. The reason for reissuing them are technical and practical. Even in the beginning of the project we thought of this collection as a book, or more precisely, as a conference volume. Given slower download speeds at the time, we uploaded each chapter individually as a separate document. However, what we did not consider was that the internet itself is a very fragile medium. The reorganization of the university’s webpages in recent years has meant that the Institute of Comparative Culture had to move to a new web address, leaving this collection high and dry. We don’t want to endanger the survival of this collection in the future. So, in this second edition we have consolidated it into a single manuscript and will move it to a new location on the university repository. Its original conception as a book becomes clearer, and it is more easily portable from one website to another. We have also added serial page numbers to make future references to this collection easier for new readers, a flaw in our original conception. We still plan to leave the collection free online indefinitely, and we also hope that others will host this manuscript on their own webpages to make it more available in different online contexts. Looking back at the conference and the names of the scholars who participated in it, its greatest legacy may be the scholarly community and networks that were formed through the interactions and subsequent publication. Over the past decades this network has expanded and connected in a variety of ways with a broader community of food studies scholars around the world. I personally have seen these authors on multiple continents, and it is truly remarkable that I met nearly all of them for the first time at Sophia in 2009. The person who is most responsible for locating the people who became part of this diverse community together was Rossella Ceccarini who was a graduate student at Sophia University at the time. Her paper in this collection went on to become the basis for a monograph on transnational pizza culture between Japan and Italy (Ceccarini 2011). This is but one example of the scholarly legacy of this conference. At Sophia we have since launched follow-up projects, conferences, including another volume on the globalization of Asian cuisines (Farrer 2015) and a historical ethnography of the spread of Japanese restaurant cuisine around the world (Farrer et al 2019). Food studies remains a strong theme of global studies program at Sophia. i Most of the authors in this collection are still productively writing and teaching in food studies and global studies. A few have left academy; however, one, our dear colleague and brilliant scholar Yoshino Kosaku, has left us altogether, passing away in September 2018. We dedicate this new reissued collection to his memory. His contributions to globalization theory and the sociology of nationalism in East Asia continue to inspire many authors in this volume. James Farrer, Sophia University February 11, 2021 References Ceccarini, Rossella. 2011. Pizza and Pizza Chefs in Japan: A Case of Culinary Globalization. Leiden: Brill. Farrer, James, ed. 2015. The globalization of Asian cuisines: Transnational networks and culinary contact zones. New York: Palgrave. Farrer, James, Christian Hess, Mônica R. de Carvalho, Chuanfei Wang, and David Wank. 2019. “The multiple globalizations of Japanese cuisine.” Cecilia Leong-Salobir ed. Routledge Handbook of Food in Asia. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 39-57. ii Chapter Abstracts and Bios Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 1 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia Sidney C. H. Cheung Recent anthropological studies on foodways have highlighted the globalization of local foodways as well as the localization of foreign foodways in various countries, reminding us that foodways are simultaneously local and global in terms of production, manufacturing, and marketing. This paper seeks to examine the influences brought by the move of crayfish (freshwater crustacean resembling lobster) from the southern United States to Asia, especially to Lake Akan, Hokkaido in Japan and Xuyi, Jiangsu in mainland China, and investigate individual and community responses toward adaptation, consumption and conservation since the coming of crayfish in the 1920s. In this paper, I will describe how the introduction and cultivation of a new non-local food species has contributed to changes in farming methods, trading network and conservation efforts in contemporary Asia. We have seen many adventive species bring negative impacts to their new environments. A few examples are Nile perch in Australia/Tanzania, black bass in Japan, janitor fish in the Philippines, bullfrog in South Korea, and grass carp and snakehead in North America, while there are also species bringing new foodways to their new place, such as the popular tilapia in Asia and the red swamp crayfish (Procambarus clarkii) in China. Of these, tracking down the spread of the red swamp crayfish both in Japan and China provides a wonderful case study, as it has spread globally and brought various impacts to the two different countries in many ways. By making use of the two paths of the red swamp crayfish, a native species in Southern United States, I will discuss how it was widely accepted as a delicacy in China while it also became a phasing-out local food in Japan after it was introduced more than a half century ago. Cheung, Sidney C. H. is Professor and Chairperson, Department of Anthropology, The Chinese University of Hong Kong. His research interests include visual anthropology, anthropology of tourism, heritage studies, indigenous cultures, food and identity. He is the editor of On the South China Track: Perspectives on Anthropological Research and Teaching (Hong Kong: HKIAPS, CUHK, 1998); co-editor of Tourism, Anthropology and China (White Lotus, 2001), The Globalization of Chinese Food (RoutledgeCurzon, 2002) and Food and Foodways in Asia: Resource, Tradition and Cooking (Routledge, 2007). In 2010, He published two Chinese popular books called The Life of Freashwater Fish Farmers in Hong Kong and Chefs on the Road, which are expected to bring anthropological perspectives to the general public in Hong Kong and mainland China. iii Chapter 2 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige A basic reconstruction is made of the origin and diffusion of fermented fish products in East Asia by combining information on the history of human migrations, cultural borrowing and ethno-linguistics. It is assumed that (1) simple shiokara was the prototypical fermented fish product from which the others were elaborated independently; (2) fish preservation was needed only in areas of pronounced seasonality of local fish availability; (3) fish fermentation developed first among sedentary farmers; (4) prior to organized commerce, fish fermentation originated and developed only where salt was easily obtained; and (5) fish fermentation developed in a focal region(s) of continental East Asia, later diffusing to peninsular and insular regions through the migration of peoples, cultural borrowing and commerce. Kenneth Ruddle received a B.A. (Hons.) from the University of Manchester, in 1964, and a PhD from the University of California, in 1970. At present he is a Professor in the School of Policy Studies of Kwansei Gakuin University, Japan. Ruddle specializes in the human ecology of tropical regions, and has done extensive fieldwork in South America and Africa, in addition to East Asia, his main area of focus. Dr. Ruddle’s main research interest is the human ecology of tropical aquatic resources management, especially pre-existing systems and their local knowledge base. He is the author or editor of 40 books, and has also published some 150 scientific articles, contributed chapters and similar publications. He is a Fellow of the World Academy of Art and Science. Naomichi Ishige: Director-General of National Museum of Ethnology from 1997-2003, Professor Ishige Naomichi is a cultural anthropologist specialized in food culture. He has conducted extensive fieldwork in Oceania, Africa and Southeast and Northeast Asia. He received his BA in 1963, from Kyoto University, and was awarded a doctorate by Tokyo University of Agriculture in 1986. Widely published, Professor Ishige is the author or co-author of over 80 books, and more than 100 academic articles and related works. Chapter 3 Problems on Sea Cucumber Conservation Jun Akamine The global market for dried sea cucumber expanded in the late 1980s and this has created serious problems worldwide. One notorious example comes from the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador, which is known as “sea cucumber war.” Fishermen not only over-fish the endemic Isostichopus fuscus but alsoprocess the animal on the islands, which allows foreign species to scatter among the islands, negatively impacting the islands’ ecology. Thus, the Ecuador Government proposed that sea cucumber be listed in the CITES in 2003, which triggered international debates on how to conserve sea cucumber involving all kinds of stakeholders: fishermen, traders, researchers, conservationists, NGOs and fisheries agencies. This paper gives some thought to a matter how sedentary venthos species should be managed by communal efforts. I first explore the contemporary international debates on how to conserve sea cucumber with relation to conservation of sea cucumber foodways in Asia. Without understanding foodways in China and history of its development, it is difficult to design management plans. For example, among the 30 to 40 commercially traded sea cucumbers, northern China traditionally prefers only a few spiky sea cucumbers (tsu-shen) that are mainly harvested in temperate waters, including Galapagos species. Among the temperate spiky species, the iv Japanese common species, Stichopus japonicus is highly appreciated. The dried products from northern Japan are priced the most expensive in the world market because of the sharpest spikes. The price of S. japonicus in Hokkaido has been rising since 2000, which also creates several problems. To understand the problems and to find out the way to solve them, the second part of the paper will introduce a case study based on my fieldwork in Rishiri Island, Hokkaido, northernmost of Japan. Fishermen there have developed their qualitative brand through trial and error. Competing with strong market pressure and poaching, fishermen in Rishiri Island have developed communal rules that have been the results of exchange of ideas and practices with outside societies including traders. The case study will point out 1) the possibility that international intervention such as CITES may diminish these spontaneously developed self-regulated conservation efforts and 2) communal resource management may need support from the traders and management should not exclude traders. The latter is, especially, a new viewpoint for sustainable use of marine resources. Jun Akamine is Associate Professor at School of Humanities and Social Sciences, Nagoya City University and has been engaging in research on “sea cucumber foodways” more than a decade. His interest covers i) its historical development and trade dynamism in Asia, ii) its expansion to global market and production, iii) resource conservation balancing “communal” practices and global environmentalism. He started his research in the Philippines and Indonesia, and now he travels globally attending in CITES related conferences and meetings. Chapter 4 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico Hiroyuki Tani Maize has long been the main basic food in Mexico, especially among the peasants and poorer segments of urban dwellers. The Mexican Revolution, which partially was an upheaval of peasants and rural workers seeking land to exploit, and the successive governments which followed it, raised thepeasants as the key actors in the post-Revolutionary society. The ideological importance of peasants and the needs of the urban workers for cheep food prompted the Revolutionary government to establish a series of official instruments to distribute the staple with considerable subsidies. At the same time the post-revolutionary governments utilized the product as a symbol to create a form of national identity among Mexicans and to attempt to consolidate national integrity. But as the thirty years of “stabilized growth” came to an end in the 1970’s, maize became a heavy burden to the governments, which aimed to “economize” the Mexican society to gain more efficiency. This tendency eventually led to the end of agrarian reform (1992) and the signing of a free trade agreement with the U.S. and Canada (1994). In the early 21st century the instability of the world grain market changed the scene. While the maize trade within the North America has been freed totally (2008), Mexican government renewed its support to its domestic production, this time not as an ideological tool but as a purely economic good. This paper tries to make clear: (a) the origin of the ideological use of maize, (b) political and economic effects of the state-subsidized supply system, and (c) the changes in the political use of maize in recent years. Hiroyuki Tani is Professor in the Department of Hispanic Studies of Sophia University specializing in studies of the Latin American economy. His current research interests include Mexican agriculture under the trade liberalization process, focusing on fresh vegetable v exports (especially of tomatoes) and recent policy changes on maize production and distribution. He co-edited with Linda Grove Transnational Networks: Production, Marketing and Consumption (Tokyo: Sophia University Press, 2008, published in Japanese) to which various presenters of this symposium contributed. Chapter 5 “Here’s Looking at You:” Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Patricia Yarrow This study examines the relationship between local and global identities associated with Japanese saké as reconfigured in the processes of globalization. Methodology includes visual analysis of saké labels and websites as touchstones to the renewal of cultural identity. Interviews with brewers, promoters, and store owners give personalized insight into the local, regional, and international issues involved. In this paper, I will situate saké in early Japanese literature and myth, and in the emperor ordination ceremonies, in which marriages of saké and food in sacred rites symbolize the union of the new emperor with the people, land, and kami of Japan. As the Miyako/Kyoto control of Japan established a system of shrines and temples on tax-free land, the local population, property, crops were tallied and taxes collected in the form of rice, which was shipped to storehouses, and led to early banking operations. Accumulated rice converted into saké became a much more efficiently stored, traded, and shipped commodity. The modern era brought bottles, labels, and competition with imported liquors and food. Saké and Japanese food had to share the plate and cup with others. While saké production and farms decreased, increased technological control resulted in more refined products. Another form of saké consumption is through viewing the labels, which communicate information about the sources and producers of the products. The consumer symbolically travels to the place of production through looking at a label. Saké producers and sellers often support local artists, farmers, and food producers by showcasing their products. Local saké associations include several guilds. Regionally, several saké associations and centers continue to display saké and form primary associations for Japanese saké makers and business. Then, taking this outside of Japan for scrutiny of others is the challenge. Strategies include re-localizing products for consumption outside of Japan. This study suggests that saké producers make use of carefully cultivated images. They have established a dialogue between rural and urban indenities by emphasizing the elements of nature and the local dynamics of production on their labels, while situating the products in modern urban settings. The success of that dialogue is now being tested on the plates and cups of the world. Patricia Yarrow has enthusiastically lived in Japan on and off for over ten years, largely in Tokyo. She currently inhabits Ryogoku. Her areas of research careen between exploring the world of saké, including the business and the brewers, the qualities of “shitamachi” old-fashioned living, and “Engrish”, the weirdly misapplied English found in Japan on written surfaces. She teaches English and writing at Meiji Gakuin, Kanto Gakuin, and the National Defense Academy. Her master’s thesis, completed in 2005 at the University of Colorado at Boulder, was a visual analysis of the iconography of saké labels. Since the Symposium, she has gained another title: travel blogger, with her adventures in “Shizuoka Travels With Patricia”. vi Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 6 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World Krishnendu Ray Ethnic, foreign, soul, etc. are a few ways in which American journalists writing on food have tried to capture difference within the national imaginary. These categories often have divergent connotation of difference from a presumed mainstream. This paper analyzes the print record and interprets the category of the “ethnic restaurant,” in the process of narrating the story of the American engagement with gustatory difference in the making of a national cuisine. My analysis is based on data from four sources. First, national American newspapers, such as The New York Times, analyzed qualitatively and in detail from 1851 to the present. Second, descriptive quantitative analysis of The New York Times, Chicago Tribune and The Los Angeles Times to contextualize the narrow focus of the first source. Third, qualitative analysis of journals digitized in the American Periodical Series. Fourth, Zagat Surveys beginning in 1982. This paper makes an argument about taste, ethnicity and hierarchy as it relates to the gustatory imagination of American taste-makers through the twentieth century. Krishnendu Ray is the author of The Migrant’s Table: Meals and Memories in Bengali-American Households (Temple University Press, 2004). He has taught for a decade at the Culinary Institute of America. Currently, he is an assistant professor in the Department of Nutrition, Food Studies and Public Health at New York University. He is working on a book-length project tentatively titled “Taste, Toil and Ethnicity” and his most recent publication is “Nation and Cuisine: The Evidence from American Newspapers ca. 1830-2003.” Chapter 7 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways Stephanie Assmann This paper looks at two citizen movements in Japan that address the country’s low self-sufficiency rate of merely 40% and the issue of food safety. Recently, a series of food scandals that also involved imported food products has alarmed Japan, such as the incident of Chinese dumplings that were tainted with pesticides (gyôza jiken) at the beginning of 2008. Food Action Nippon defines itself as a citizen movement (kokumin undô) that provides information about domestic food products and balanced eating habits. Slow Food Japan is an NGO and part of the worldwide Slow Food Movement that originated 1986 in Italy. Slow Food Japan seeks to preserve a cultural heritage such as vegetables, fruits and cattle that are in danger of vanishing and tied to a specific region and special cultivation techniques. Taking these two citizen movements—a governmental initiative and a global movement— as examples, I argue that the quest for a return to supposedly safer domestic foods reflects a search for national and local identity expressed through the (re)discovery and promotion of local foods. Stephanie Assmann is associate professor for Comparative Culture and German Language at Akita University, Japan. She holds a PhD in Japanese Studies from the University of Hamburg, Germany. Her research interests include consumer behavior, especially with regards to vii traditional fashion and foodways in contemporary Japan. Together with Eric C. Rath (University of Kansas), she published a collection of essays entitled “Japanese Foodways. Past and Present” which was published by the University of Illinois Press in 2010. Chapter 8 Eating the West and Beating the Rest: Culinary Occidentalism and Urban Soft Power in Asia’s Global Food Cities James Farrer A new global culinary geography of high cuisine has developed centered on global cities. This essay traces this development by focusing on the interaction between transnational flows of people and resources and local cultural politics in two of Asia’s global cities, Shanghai and Tokyo. Although investments and increased wealth create the conditions for development of international restaurant scenes in cities, the advent of a cosmopolitan and lively urban food culture is not an inevitable outcome of economic globalization. Global city culinary culture is shown to be influenced both by local urban histories and by transnational cultural politics, as Asian global cities compete in terms of their attractiveness for investors, or their “urban soft power.” “Culinary soft power,” or the culinary reputation of a city, has become an important element of this “urban soft power.” To understand the similarities and considerable differences in the restaurant scenes of Shanghai and Tokyo, we must also consider historical contexts. In both Shanghai and Tokyo recently booming international restaurant scenes are shaped by decades of colonial and postcolonial encounters. Cosmopolitan foodscapes build upon colonial spatial legacies and postcolonial imaginaries. Despite the increasing diversities of urban foodways, “culinary Occidentalism” as well as “culinary nationalism” still strongly influence the meanings of consuming foreign foods in Asia’s global cities. James Farrer is Associate Professor of Sociology in the Faculty of Liberal Arts and the Director of the Institute of Comparative Culture at Sophia University. His research has involved qualitative and ethnographic studies of youth sexuality, sexual politics, intercultural marriage, nightlife, urban spaces, expatriate subcultures, and now foodways. The fieldsites have been in Shanghai, with a comparative focus on Tokyo. He is author of the book Opening Up: Youth sex culture and market reform (University of Chicago Press 2002). His research for this project focuses on the development of international cuisine in Shanghai during the reform and opening period. Chapter 9 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization Kosaku Yoshino Malaysian cuisine represents a culinary diversity originating from Malaysia’s multiethnic society: Malay, Chinese, Indian, Nyonya, Eurasian, and so on. There are many Malaysian favourites such as nasi lemak, beef rendang, bak but teh, char kway teow, curry laksa, roti canai, nasi goreng, nasi dagang, and so forth. Nonetheless, Malaysian restaurants are very limited in number in virtually all major cities of the world compared with Thai, Vietnamese and Indonesian restaurants. In Tokyo, for example, there are only five Malaysian restaurants. Why doesn’t Malaysian cuisine become global? The paper attempts to offer interpretations and explanations for this question. Its approach is sociological, inquiring into social processes that take place among social actors, in this case, producers, reproducers and consumers of cuisine. Focusing on the Japanese market, the paper analyses social characteristics of consumers of ethnic food and then looks into some issues regarding reproducers of Malaysian cuisine in the global market such as the role of small businesses and the government. viii Kosaku Yoshino is Professor of Sociology at Sophia University. His areas of specialization are nationalism and globalization in Japan and Southeast Asia. His best-known books include Cultural Nationalism in Contemporary Japan (Routledge) and Consuming Ethnicity and Nationalism: Asian Experiences (editor) (Curzon Press). He is currently writing a book on the impact of “Englishization” on various social processes and networks both within as well as outside of Asia. He has been conducting research on Malaysia for many years and has written on various aspects of its multiethnicity. Chapter 10 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Restaurants in Shanxi Province David L. Wank In the mid-1990s a local dish 地方菜 boom emerged in China’s restaurant industry. Restaurants ranging from family-style to luxury establishments started serving local dishes that are self-consciously represented as the foods eaten by the common people of a specific locale in China. Their menus feature coarse grains and wild greens while their décor evokes the culture and history of a locale. The focus of this essay is this “culinary nostalgia” in local food restaurants in Shanxi province, the heartland of Chinese civilization. Drawing on fieldwork the essay illustrates how the consumption of culinary nostalgia constructs a personhood of individuated differences—a Chinese-style multiculturalism—in the emerging national markets, while its production overlaps with the field of state power. Therefore, the culinary nostalgia of local dish restaurants embodies the disjuncture of market and state in China’s neo-liberal reform policies that have been transforming the economy since the 1990s. David Wank is Professor of Sociology, Sophia University, Tokyo. He holds a Ph.D. in Sociology from Harvard University (1993). His research on numerous topics in China combines theoretical concerns of economic and political sociology with ethnographic field methodology. For his research on local cuisine in China he revisited Shanxi Province, where he lived from 1980-82. His most recent publication (co-edited with Yoshiko Ashiwa) is Making Religion, Making the State: The Politics of Religion in Modern China (Stanford University Press, 2009). Chapter 11 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Mauro Neves This research explores in which aspects Como agua para chocolate (Alfonso Arau, 1992) can be seen as a food film, and in which aspects the film surpasses this definition. Being the first Mexican film centered on Mexican food it prompted a reinterpretation on the relation between food, family ties and gender in Mexico. It also provided discussion abroad on Mexican food, somehow creating an erroneous image of Mexican food being part of a cultural cauldron involving sensuality and machismo. There are plenty of films that could be imagined by the spectators as food films, but I would argue that a film becomes a “food film” when food becomes the dominant symbol system in the development of the narrative. It is ot a surprise that filmmakers in many genres consider using food to communicate emotions, but having a cook as the main character does not necessarily make it a food film. Why is food so important in a narrative? Essentially, because through it we can express copious emotions: love, sensualix ity, anger, rebellion, violence and so on, but also because it is part of the way that film contributes to the construction of a sexual, national or ethnic identity. As in Como agua para chocolate, showing in detail the preparation and the consumption of food can be used as a way of reassuring a cultural continuity. So, what are the ingredients to make a film into a food film? First, food has to play a star role, not merely having importance when the film’s main characters are cooking. In other words, what is important is not the main character, but the ways the camera is used to focus on the preparation and presentation of food, making food fill out the screen. Also it is important to have the kitchen as the main setting in the development of the narrative, be it in a restaurant, a home, or a shop which sells food. Finally, the film’s narrative should consistently depict characters negotiating questions of identity, power, culture, class, spirituality, or relationships through food. Considering these three aspects, there is no doubt that Como agua para chocolate can be considered as a typical example of the food film genre. Mauro Neves is a professor at the Luso-Brazilian Studies Department at Sophia University in Tokyo. He holds a M.A. in Japanese History from the Buddhist University in Kyoto. His research focuses on the media, music and literature of both Latin America and Japan, especially with regards to text analysis. Among his recent researches is one going on about the Mexican Revolution and how the Revolution has been shown by Mexican films. Chapter 12 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine Michiko Kubo Consisting of 17,000 islands Indonesia has more than 400 ethnic groups. The image of “Indonesian cuisine” is diverse, depending on where it is discussed or on what kind of food. The term “Indonesian cuisine” is not familiar to the Indonesian people and is rarely used among them. But what we call “Indonesian cuisine” does exist. What then is meant by “Indonesian cuisine,” in what situations is it discussed or where and how do people eat “Indonesian cuisine”? This research focuses on two trends in Indonesian cuisine development: (1) the emergence and diffusion of Indonesian cuisine as an instant food, and (2) new trends in the development of Indonesian cuisine at the local level. Indonesia’s economic growth and urbanization have affected women’s awareness and values, bringing significant changes in their life styles. Accordingly, women are starting to look for ways to save household labor, and the demand for easy-to-prepare instant foods is on the increase. In urban areas, new trends are emerging with café-style restaurants that are now replacing “food stands,” which used to serve local dishes solely for migrant workers. Michiko Kubo graduated from the MA course in Asian Studies at Sophia University. She worked for 10 years at a school offering classes in Southeast Asian languages, cooking and dancing. She supported the lecturers as an assistant, was involved in planning for the cooking courses, devised the recipes and took charge of food shopping. The experience at the school inspired her interest in Southeast Asian food culture, which is the subject of her MA thesis, “Masakan Indonesia as a National Cuisine.” At present, she organizes Thai and Indonesian cooking classes and has a column in serial form in an Indonesian restaurant newsletter. x Part 3: Mobile Producers Chapter 13 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field Vanina Leschziner This paper draws on ethnographic research with elite chefs in New York City and San Francisco to present an analysis of the socio-cognitive and organizational foundations of culinary creation. I examine the cognitive schema upon which chefs rely in creating dishes and seeking legitimation, and the organizational factors that constrain them in their choices. Chefs rely on particular ideas about food, their inclinations, and perceptions of customers’ expectations, to make choices about the food they will serve in their restaurants. I show that they focus on either of two principles of culinary creation: flavor or market differentiation. Flavor is the principle of excellence in cuisine, and as such is the value to strive for in making food, and thus the means to acquire legitimacy as chefs. But chefs cannot simply make flavorful food, they need to differentiate themselves from others to survive in the competitive market of high cuisine. To make flavorful food that customers will like, and distinguish themselves from others, they must find a balance between conformity to traditional styles and originality. Conformity and originality introduce contradictory pressures, and individuals must make choices out of this contradiction. I suggest that one way whereby they make choices is through their “self-concepts.” But self-concepts are not up for grabs, they are constructed throughout individuals’ careers, and are therefore associated with individuals’ positions in the field. Thus, whether chefs focus on flavor or differentiation in creating food and legitimating themselves is associated with both their self-concepts and field positions. Vanina Leschziner is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Sociology at the University of Toronto. Her primary research interests are in the sociology of culture, culture and cognition, organizations, theory, and qualitative methods. She is currently working on a book manuscript about the social logic of creation in High Cuisine that is based on ethnographic research she has conducted in High-end restaurants in New York City and San Francisco, titled Recipes for Success: Elite Chefs, Restaurants, and Culinary Styles in New York and San Francisco. This work combines a cultural, cognitive and organizational analysis of High Cuisine to explain how and why elite chefs create the food that they do. More generally, the book develops a theoretical and methodological framework for studying patterns of cultural creation. She has published this and other research in cuisine in Sociological Forum and Theory & Society. Chapter 14 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking “Asian” as Embedded Cosmopolitanism Jean Duruz This paper recalls (imperfectly, I suspect) a comment from the British television cooking series, Two Fat Ladies. “Add some chilli to the fish,” says one Fat Lady to the other, “That’s very Australian.” This begs the question: how did the taste of chilli become “very Australian”? Changes to Australian cuisine have provoked much lively debate regarding its “Asianisation,” hybridisation and current “stars” (Symons, Santich, Ripe). Rather than following these relatively well-trodden routes, however, the paper approaches issues of “new” Australian food cultures and social identities from an oblique direction. Its concern is to reflect on meanings of xi belonging through unraveling, in part, established conceptual/media/industry dichotomies of cook and chef (Gunders)—those hard distinctions between celebrity professional practice and the everyday place-making associated with migration. Drawing on Chef Cheong Liew’s signature dish, Four Dances of the Sea, and its biographical resonances, the paper examines the complex web of affective relationships that might “embed” a chef (even a celebrity whose international reputation is prized by the Adelaide Hilton) within his/her gastronomic community: childhood memories of Malaysia; extended family and friendship networks; local professional networks; food streets and markets; local producers and providores; transnational networks and global travel. Such mapping, in turn, allows a challenge to Naussbaum’s universalised liberal cosmopolitan “self” from a more nuanced take on the significance of “place” for cultural exchange, reciprocity and belonging through food. It also figures (tentatively) “new” hybrid forms of Asian-Australian culinary citizenship. Jean Duruz is a Senior Lecturer in cultural studies in the School of Communication, International Studies and Languages at the University of South Australia. She has an MA in Cultural Studies from the University of Birmingham and her PhD is from the Flinders University of South Australia. Her research reflects a continuing interest in connections of food, place, identity and cosmopolitanism, and her articles appear in international journals such as Space and Culture, Environment and Planning D: Society and Space and Gastronomica. Currently, she is developing a number of projects on street food, markets and ethnic neighbourhoods within contexts of global cities, such as Singapore, New York City and Mexico City. Chapter 15 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan Rossella Ceccarini According to the Italian restaurant guide of Japan, published in 2006 by the Italian Trade Commission, there are 3974 restaurants serving Italian cuisine, or at least dishes inspired by Italian cuisine, all over the Japanese archipelago. Pizza is among the most popular dishes. The purpose of this paper is to give an overview of the state of pizza in Japan, based on the experience and the knowledge of pizza chefs (i.e. pizzaiolo) and Italian restaurateurs in Tokyo. The emphasis on the producers’ side is based on the assumption that studies on food in Japan have paid attention to the Japanese customer, to the way foreign food has been “glocalized,” and to the way eating habits have changed since the introduction of new foods (Tobin et al. 1994, Ohnuki-Tierney 1997, Ashkenazi and Jacob 2000, Cwiertka 2006), while the role of food workers seems to have been overlooked. But prior to being eaten, food and cuisine must be crafted and prepared. Thus, this paper looks at the glocalization of a foreign culinary product from the perspective of food creators, investigating the role they play in spreading glocalization and making the culinary product desirable. The focus on the reator side highlights at least two significant issues: 1) Food is not a mere commodity but an artifact of human ingenuity, a creative product shaped through the accumulation of knowledge, skills, and experience. Food does not travel only in response to consumer demands or by the will of multinational corporations, but also thanks to food creators. 2) There is a double-flow of transnational food workers. One is the flow of Italian pizzaiolos going to Japan to ply their trade, having the cultural and human capital necessary to recreate Italian food in Japan while coping with environmental differences and restraints. The other one is the flow of young Japanese traveling to Italy to learn how to make pizza. They move xii to Italy in order to build and/or reinforce their culinary knowledge. When they come back to Japan they have acquired the necessary forms of capital (i.e. cultural, symbolic and institutionalized as in the Bourdiean perspective) to enter the Italian restaurant world of Japan. To illustrate these issues this paper presents qualitative data collected through interviews with Italian and Japanese pizzaiolos working in the Tokyo restaurant business. Rossella Ceccarini joined Sophia University’s Global Studies PhD program in 2006. Her present research focuses on the reception of Italian food in Japan. Using an ethnographic approach, she is examining the case of pizza and pizza cooks in Japan, focusing on the role the food worker plays in the glocalization of food. She is working on a book manuscript based on her dissertation research, tentatively titled, “Artisanal Pizza in Japan: A Case of Culinary Globalization”. Chapter 16 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization Shoko Imai In my paper, focusing on the case of Japanese Chef Matsuhisa Nobuyuki (Nobu), I outline the cultural and social impacts of the worldwide popularity of Japanese food in contemporary society. In analyzing the whole phenomenon of Nobu, world city theory as proposed by geographers seems effective and insightful. World cities such as New York, London, Tokyo and Los Angeles, are usually considered in terms of their authority as economic and political centers (Friedmann, 1986; Sassen, 1991; Castells, 2002). However, the notion of world cities can also be applied to cultural issues, such as food. The food industry, supported by enormous flows of money, humans, materials, and information, has established the nodes of the networks in world cities (Taylor, Walker and Beaverstock, 2002). In this space, the currents of globalization have been shaped, influencing the foodways of the rest of the world. The popularity of Japanese food is one significant example of a food culture that has developed a global influence particularly through its presence in world cities. The case of Nobuyuki Matsuhisa, a Japanese chef well-recognized for his success in the United States, gives us interesting insights when we think about the process, in which the global reputation of Japanese food emerged. His food is based on Japanese cuisine with accents of South and North American cooking. His practice has always been to look for some tastes that would be accepted and enjoyed among the local people wherever he has worked. In a sense, his cooking-style can be described as American food since his style has been transformed in America. The location of his restaurants is another significant point. He opened Matsuhisa in Los Angeles in 1987, and up until now in 2008, he has been running more than 20 restaurants around the world. He has established his own network for running restaurants at the nodes of the world cities. With the Americanized flavor of his Japanese dishes, he has influenced the spread and recognition of Japanese food around the world. The Nobu-style, based on his training as a sushi chef in Japan and developed through his personal experiences of working in various places on the American continent, can be seen as Americanized Japanese food. He has successfully established a sense of authenticity for his dishes at the nodes of world cities and contributed to the worldwide popularity of Japanese food, a trend which can be described as the globalization of Japanese culinary culture. Shoko Imai is a graduate student in Area Studies Department of Graduate School of Arts and Sciences at University of Tokyo. Currently she is working on her PhD thesis about the xiii popularity of Japanese food in the world and globalization. Introduction: Food Studies and Global Studies in the Asia Pacific James Farrer Copyright © 2021, 2010 by James Farrer All rights reserved 1 Background of this collection The papers in this online collection are the outcome of the symposium on “Globalization, food and social identities in the Pacific region” held at Sophia University on Feb. 21-22, 2009. Although the globalization of food production and consumption is a phenomenon as old as agriculture itself, the increased speed and scale of transnational flows of food products, foodways and food producers has resulted in a greater interaction among cultures and increased cross-border dependencies for supplies. It was thus significant that this conference was held in Tokyo, a center of celebrated international cuisine, and in Japan, a country with one of the world’s highest rates of dependency on food imports. The papers in this collection focus on these transnational linkages in the production of new food cultures in societies in the Asia/Pacific region, including the Americas and Asia, asking how foodways work as expressions of social identity, including ethnic, regional, class and national identities. Papers stress conceptual questions such as the social construction of cuisine in different social and cultural contexts, and also policy questions related to the commercial promotion of cuisines from developing countries and the livelihoods of food consumers and producers. This symposium was a project of a research group of the Sophia University Institute of Comparative Culture, funded by the Promotion and Mutual Aid Corporation for Private Schools of Japan Academic Research Promotion Fund and Sophia University. This research group consists of seven Sophia faculty members conducting research on food culture in field sites in China, South East Asia, and Latin America. Other participants in the symposium were invited from institutions around the world for the two day event. As discussed below, this collection also represents an Asian Pacific perspective on food globalization, partly by virtue of being produced in Asia, partly by virtue of the focus of many papers on inter-Asian cultural flows. One goal of this collection of relatively short papers was to build ties between scholars in Japan and scholars from other institutions in the Asia Pacific region, broadly conceived, 2 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and make their research available to a global audience in an attractive and easily readable format. All contributions published in this online collection were reviewed in a double blind peer-reviewed process. We decided to publish this as an online collection because we wanted to explore a variety of issues from interdisciplinary and diverse geographical standpoints that would not easily mold into an ordinary book. We also hope that with online publication, we can reach a wider readership than a paper-based collection. We also have used the online format to publish more photographic images, which are particularly helpful in research on cuisine and food as material culture. Food Studies and Global Studies Food studies and studies of globalization have become inseparable (Nuetzenadel and Trentman 2008, 1). An important context for this symposium and the online paper collection was the establishment of a Graduate School of Global Studies (GSGS) at Sophia University in 2006. Global studies is a new interdisciplinary academic field that has arisen from intensive scholarly engagements with the complex phenomena of globalization. The advent of global studies recognizes that neither traditional disciplinary training nor interdisciplinary area studies programs are adequate for studying the cross-border flows of people, ideas and commodities in contexts in which the nation is now decentered as the unit of analysis (Wank 2003; AAGS 2010). Several GSGS members have contributed to this collection of papers, with backgrounds spanning the social sciences and humanities. Notably for the program, the very first Ph.D. candidate in the English-language based program, Rossella Ceccarini, has contributed an article to this collection, which, like her dissertation, focuses on culinary globalization. Food studies have a close and growing affiliation with global studies. Over the past decade several edited volumes and review articles have been published that explicitly address food and globalization (Inglis and Gimlin 2009; Nuetzenadel and Trentmann 2008; Phillips 2006; Cwiertka and Walraven 2002; Grew 1999; Goodman and Watts 1997). Because of the materiality of the subject matter, studies of food allow us to trace the complex processes of globalization, including linkages between historical, economic, cultural and political analyses that are often isolated in narrower disciplinary studies. Food studies have long been concerned with what Arjun Appadurai (1986) calls “the social lives of things,” the complex transnational chains that bring a product through multiple hands from producers to consumers. Sidney Mintz’s (1985) study of sugar has become a classic study in global history that broke the association of food cultures with narrow place-based communities of consumption and production (Phillips 2006, 38). Food is not only a by-product of global flows of people, money, and ideas, but is one of the main motives and central concerns 3 Introduction: Food Studies and Global Studies in the Asia Pacific of actors in all processes globalization. People conquered, colonized and traded largely out of a concern for food, whether it be Southeast Asian spices, African coffee beans, Chinese tea or South American cocoa (Turner 2005; Mintz 1985; Wild 2005; Robertson 2010; Smith 2008). Food studies especially serve to highlight the historical dimensions of Source: Stock photo, Microsoft processes of globalization (Nuetzenadel and Trentman 2008, 3). Food represents perhaps the first form of globalization in the spread of cultivated crops across the Eurasian continent beginning nearly 10,000 years ago (Mitten 2004). By the time of the Roman Empire, trade routes for foodstuffs had been established stretching as far as from Rome to East Africa and India (Inglis and Gimlin 2009, Murray 2007). In Asia long-distance trade networks in foodstuffs were also being established by the 5th century CE (Wu and Cheung 2003). While some would argue that these early form of culinary exchange represent only “proto-globalization” (Grew 1999), the first indisputable wave of economic and political globalization, the early European colonization in 15th century, was largely motivated by food concerns, especially by goals of seizing control of spice trading routes (Turner 2005). Even more significant for subsequent human history, the discovery of American foods radically altered the diets of European, African and Asian people, creating the first truly global flows of foods, if not yet processed food products. The next phase of culinary globalization plantation began agriculture with colonial that resulted in the first mass-markets for tropical products such as tea, sugar, chocolate and coffee, reaching to the working classes of metropolitan countries, especially Britain (Smith 2008). Finally, since World War II we have entered a new phase of mass culinary globalization that includes not only the globalization of foodstuffs and food products, but also of cuisines, producers, menus, restaurant designs and most every other aspect of Source: Stock photo, Microsoft (Veer Images) 4 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region food production and consumption. Indeed food studies show that some form of interdisciplinary global studies is necessary to understand the changing context of everyday living in the past several hundred years. Beyond their role in constructing global histories, foods (and discussions of food) have served as key “global imaginaries” for representations of globalization in both popular and scholarly discourse (Phillips 2006, 43). Fast foods and industrial processed foods are the most common images associated with the idea of “globalization,” as is evident in such terms as “McDonaldization,” “Coca-colonization” or “Cocaglobalization”(Ritzer 1995; Foster 2008; Wagnleitner 1994), which have been used to represent cultural globalization in general, and not simply food globalization. Despite the prevalence of these images of corporate-led global culinary imperialism, most recent studies of culinary globalization question the assumptions of cultural homogenization associated with the spread of even brands such as McDonalds, which are often appropriated by consumers in different ways according to local contexts (Watson 1997). Food studies therefore also provide some of the best evidence for processes of localization, or “glocalization,” the processes of cultural appropriation, redefinition and local resistance that accompany all transnational cultural flows. Examples of pan-Pacific foods abound in the papers in this collection, ranging from Galapagos sea cucumbers eaten in China to Japanese nouveau cuisine with roots Source: Stock photo, Microsoft in Peru and served in New York. Food studies also share with global studies a concern for macro-micro linkages, especially links between the large scale political and economic structures that shape global food production and the more localized spheres of consumption (Inglis and Gimlin 2009; Watson and Caldwell 2005). Tracing the intricate, cross-border linkages involved in modern industrial food systems calls for methods spanning geographic borders and disciplinary boundaries (Wilk 2006; Pollan 2007; Clapp and Cohen 2009; McMichael 1994; Friedman 1982). As Ceccarini shows in her paper, there are now transnational linkages involved even in the production of “artisanal” products such as hand-tossed Neapolitan pizza that remain firmly associated with particular places though now made far from those places. There are thus not one but multiple “food globalizations” (Inglis and Grimlin 2009), ranging from industrial food production systems, to informal networks of artisanal producers and even the transnational politics of cuisines, such as the “slow food” movement (Watson and Caldwell 2005). 5 Introduction: Food Studies and Global Studies in the Asia Pacific The Asia Pacific The focus on the “Asia Pacific” in this collection is best understood not as a regional designation but a perspectival designation, as a counter to the Atlantic perspective that has dominated studies of food globalization, and global studies more generally. Beginning with world systems scholars such as Immanuel Wallerstein (1984), global studies has long been dominated by a five-century narrative of western expansion that begins with European colonialism and ends with American global hegemony. Similarly, the usual narrative of culinary globalization focuses on the establishment of an “Atlantic system,” beginning with the Columbian conquest, followed by European plantation agriculture, and ending in American fast food hegemony. This collection represents (a partial) move away from the Atlantic perspective and towards a Pacific perspective on global changes in culinary culture. In recent publications in global studies and foods studies this Atlantic bias has been modified with an Artisanal Sake Tasting at the Japanese Ambassador’s Residence in Washington Source: http://www.jetro.org/trends/food_event_sake.php emphasis on the history of food trading systems centered in Asia (Dai 2003; Kratoska 2008). Evidence for a new Pacific perspective on culinary globalization can be found in studies of Asian cuisines moving into areas once dominated by European culinary traditions. Several academic collaborations have been published emphasizing the development and globalization of Asian cuisines (Wu and Cheung 2002; Cheung and Tan 2007; Cwiertka and Walraven 2002). The export of Asian cuisines is not a new process, of course. Chinese cuisine has been popular in some areas of the West for decades (Wu and Cheung 2002; Moehring 2008). The current waves of Asian culinary globalization, however, are more complexly and thickly layered than those even two decades ago. As authors in this present collection point out, cross-border culinary flows now include new types of transnational actors that create a denser social and cultural environment for the production and reception of foreign cuisines, including a “local” social environment that is itself more “globalized” and mobile. As papers in this collection by Shoko Imai and Jean Duruz show, a new breed of Asian “celebrity chefs” in Australian and North American cities are far removed from the relatively nameless immigrant entrepreneurs who first brought Asian cuisines to western consumers in 6 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region ethnic enclaves. Star chefs are not the only new types of social agents active in the production of global Asian cuisines. Local and international media producers are largely responsible for the reputations of these new cultural icons. Krishnendu Ray’s paper points to the food critic as a key agent of culinary globalization, ranging from the anonymous Zagat contributor to the named New York Times food critic, both of whom might be considered more culinary cosmopolitans than culinary locals in their reactions to imported Asian food. Other actors that are not mentioned in most accounts of culinary globalization are designers and artists who design food products and restaurant venues. The designers of the Sake labels investigated by Patricia Yarrow in this collection are just as much producers of cultural globalization as the brewers and merchants of this traditional Japanese alcoholic beverage. Finally, as Kosaku Yoshino points out in his paper, Asian governments are also active in the promotion of cuisines, in order to project what I describe as “culinary soft power.” Culinary globalization is thus embedded in a thick flow of mobile contexts, actors and images that are also global in scope and transnational in organization. The result is that Asian cuisines now have a much greater prominence globally than in the past, in globalized urban environments that increasingly are disjoint from the national hinterlands. For example, restaurants in Shanghai and Tokyo described in my contribution to this collection are now likely to be designed by architectural firms based abroad, or by foreign firms with offices in these cities. Given the importance of built spaces in the production of high cuisine, designers and architects are some of the most central contributors to Shanghai’s cosmopolitan culinary culture. Above: North Korean themed café in Shanghai’s trendy Tianzifang District Below: Chartres French Restaurant in Shanghai Photos by Liu Fang 7 Introduction: Food Studies and Global Studies in the Asia Pacific An Asian Pacific perspective on globalization is also a specific claim about the new centrality of the region to global flows of both cuisine and food products. As Asia has risen in economic importance, the countries in the region have an increasingly powerful effect, not only on global tastes, but also on the global food supplies. Ted Bestor’s study of Tsukiji fish market points out the impact of Japan on the global supply chains for high-grade fish (Bestor 2004). In this collection, Sidney Cheung traces the “social life” of the North American crayfish as it travels from the rivers of Louisiana in North America, to streams of Japan to the farm of China, and then “back again,” in the form of an export commodity. Jun Akamine’s work on the sea cucumber points out how China’s role as a food exporter is increasingly overshadowed by its role as a food importer, with impacts on the ecology of fishing far from Asia, in the ecologically sensitive Galapagos islands. Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige’s paper traces the diffusion of fermented fish products through human migration in East Asia using the methods of ethno-linguistics. A Pacific perspective is thus an acknowledgement of a new global economic order in the production of food, but also points out the importance of regional systems of food globalization prior to the European system. Food and social identities Food is a central element of cultural identity in all societies (Montanari 2006). In the modern era cuisine has become an essential component of the representation of the imagined community of the nation, often involving piecing together a “national” cuisine out of disparate regional and local elements that once would scarcely have been found together (Appadurai 1988). Contrastive local and global elements of social identity are simultaneously constructed through importing and localizing foods. Images of the global and local “nourish each other” (Ohnuki-Tierney 1999, 260). Very often, the production of national cuisine has involved the indigenization of imported elements, which are reimagined as “local” ingredients, such as tomatoes in Italian cuisine, or spicy peppers in Korean cuisine (Inglis and Gimlin 2009). On the other hand, in the current wave of cultural globalization, foreign cuisines may also be adopted as national symbols without even losing their foreign connotations. It is noted with only slight irony in either country Consuming “Japanese Curry” in Tokyo’s Narita Airport Photo by James Farrer that “curry” has become perhaps the national dish in both the United Kingdom 8 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and in Japan. Similarly, Doner Kebab is as much a German national snack as Bratwurst is in post-millennial Germany. In this collection, Michiko Kubo’s paper on Indonesian cuisine points out how the process of national culinary construction can be aided by the rise of global food conglomerates that produce industrial food products aimed at national markets. Transnational corporations may thus serve to define and homogenize “national” tastes, even as they bring in foreign flavors. The production of producing national food cultures may be both abetted and frustrated by processes of cultural and economic globalization. Mauro Neves’s paper in this collection on the globally prominent Mexican film Como agua para chocolate points to the importance of food in artistic representations of national culture, in this case through the genre of “food film.” This film uses highly eroticized and fantastical portrayals of food not only to represent human passions generally, but also to celebrate an imagined Mexican sensibility. Because the film was widely watched and admired by foreign film critics and audiences, more than by audiences in Mexico, Neves’s analysis points to the complex and ambivalent relationship of foreign observers to the local constructions of cultural distinctiveness. The foreign gaze is threatening, but also defining. On the other hand, processes of economic and cultural globalization are not always supportive of national culinary myths. As Hiroyuki Tani’s paper on maize in Mexican culture shows, after being long established as a symbol of the Mexican nation, maize has increasingly become a “politically neutral plant” due to the processes of neo-liberal globalization under the North American Free Trade Agreement. Put simply, the national government found trade liberalization more persuasive than maintaining the sacred status of the nation’s most symbolically important staple. Both culinary globalization and culinary nationalism have resulted in the strong push for food localization and for the protection of what are perceived as authentic local foodways (Wilk 2006). However, despite their ideological devotion to the “local,” many of these culinary cultural movements themselves are highly globalized, as Stephanie Assmann’s paper on the “slow food” movement illustrates. One of the chief ideological grounds for promoting local food in Japan is the high rate of dependency of Japan on food imports. Culinary regionalism is not only constructed vis-à-vis foreign foods, however, but also may be constructed in contrast to national culinary imaginaries. David Wank’s paper in this collection shows how the regional cuisine of Shanxi is produced as a way of distinguishing the region within China, and promoting regional tourism and investment. However, as we have already seen with the local/global distinction, the region/nation distinction involves the simultaneous construction of both elements of the binary. Shanxi cuisine remains embedded in a Chinese national imaginary, and is aimed at customers from all over China, not only at locals. National images are as important as local images in the construction of the 9 Introduction: Food Studies and Global Studies in the Asia Pacific authentic local restaurant. Both Yoshino’s and Ceccarini’s papers in this collection also point to the importance of tourism in the construction of culinary “authenticity.” In the case of Italian and Malaysian cuisine restaurants in Tokyo, the tourism may not involve the act of leaving the country, but rather using the restaurant as a place for imaginary travels, including reliving and reimagining actual travel experiences. Place and locality are not the only elements of social identity represented through food. Food is often an expression of social distinctions within a community, especially class distinctions. Wealthy people in all societies have often been culinary cosmopolitans (Cwiertka 2002; Goody 1996), but it is important also to note how different segments of the upper class distinguish among themselves through culinary consumption (Bourdieu 1985). The foreign cuisine restaurants of Shanghai I discuss in my paper are much more likely to be frequented by the “white collar” professionals with high cultural capital, while Chinese entrepreneurs with less transnational cultural capital but plenty of economic capital are more likely to opt for the seafood restaurants serving sea cucumbers, shark fins, bird nests and other symbolic representations of wealth in a more “Chinese” context. At the same time that high cuisine is consumed as a symbol of cultural sophistication, it also enters the realm of artistic and cultural consumption. Food producers become not just workers but also creative artists. Indeed, the social distinctions and class identities produced in restaurant are not merely those of the customers, but also those of the food producers themselves. As Ceccarini’s research shows, the celebration of pizza makers through contests, prizes and personal marketing elevates the pizza to the level of a cuisine, rather than a quick snack or street food. It also elevates the pizzaioli from worker to artisan. Leschziner’s paper on the world of high cuisine chefs in North America points out that cuisine has become a field of artistic production with its own codes of creativity. Consumption of cuisine like other forms of artistic consumption relies upon an appreciation of the “originality” and “creativity” of the producer whose identity as an artist separates him (occasionally her) from other types of kitchen workers. At the extreme end, the high cuisine artist becomes a celebrity chef, such as those discussed by Imai, Duruz and myself in this collection, with his or her own cookbooks, television shows and named restaurants. Finally, food also is a focus of identity politics. One form of culinary politics consists of the promoting of “culinary soft power” by nation states, regional entities and even cities. Here food culture is seen as one form of cultural commodity that is linked to national, local or regional prestige, but also the possibilities of promoting tourism, investment and exports. Yoshino’s essay in this collection points out the ways in which Malaysia has tried to raise its national prestige by promoting 10 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Malaysian cuisine abroad. As my paper in this collection points out, Japan’s government in particular has engaged in policies to promote Japanese culinary soft power. For example, the Japan pavilion at the 2010 Shanghai International Expo celebrates Japan’s reputation for high cuisine with a pricey “six star” restaurant that refers directly to the Michelin stars awarded to the Kyoto-based chefs who are responsible for managing the exhibit restaurant (Okudera and Kotoyori 2010). Culinary politics are a peculiar window onto a pluralistic identity politics. Culinary choices and practices point to the seemingly promiscuous mixings of social identity claims that culinary globalization has made possible. Most top international chefs I interviewed in Shanghai were not at all shy about celebrating their distinctive cosmopolitan styles, but neither were they shy about their own tastes for and interests in local traditional foods. Not all chefs or customers Restaurants offering sushi and Korean BBQ in Toronto Photos by James Farrer are equally cosmopolitan in their tastes, but increasingly, the environment of global cities promotes a cosmopolitanism of food consumption at the same time that it promotes the development of specialized local cuisines. There is no contradiction in liking different foods. Culinary nationalism, culinary localism and culinary cosmopolitanism are less oppositional than simply different menu items that can change daily. If food has been essential to the production of images of local, regional and national culture, it is also central to the production of a “global imaginary” (Phillips 2006, 43). To the degree that culinary cosmopolitanism is a reflection of a general open mindedness toward new cultural experiences then we can say that the culture of culinary globalization offers positive examples for cultural pluralism through a “global imaginary” of travelling cuisines. 11 The organization of this collection (2021 reissued version) This is a peer-reviewed and edited collection of papers. Originally published in 2010 as a “web book” whose chapters could be separately downloaded, this collection has been reissued in 2021 as a single volume and the chapters paginated sequentially. Otherwise, the contents and organization are the same as the original 2010 version. The collection is be divided into three sections. The first section labelled “Mobile Foods” explores the transnational circuits of particular food products, chains of supply, ecological impacts, cultural definitions and ties to national and local identities. The second section labelled “Mobile Cuisines” focuses on the development of “cuisines” in the context of food globalization, looking at cuisines as expressions of national identity and social class, and also as the outcomes of local and transnational political strategies. The third section labelled “Mobile Producers” focuses on food producers as agents of cultural globalization and also as creators of culture. Biographies and abstracts can be found at the front of the volume. Acknowledgement As editor of this collection, I would like to acknowledge the contributions of the Secretary of the Institute of Comparative Culture Ms. Miwa Higashiura, without whose efforts this conference and the resulting collection would never have been possible. I would also like to acknowledge the contributions of the designer, Ms. Mie Shimizu, copyediting by Prof. Bruce Hird, and also the editorial assistance of Dr. N. Frances Hioki. 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The Cultural Politics of Food and Eating. London: Wiley Blackwell. Wild, A. 2005. Coffee: A Dark History. New York: Norton. Wilk, R., ed. 2006. Fast Food/Slow Food: The Cultural Economy of the Global Food System. Lanham: AltaMira Press. Wu, D.Y.H. and S.C.H. Cheung. 2002. “The Globalization of Chinese Food and Cuisine: Markers and Breakers of Cultural Barriers.” In The Globalization of Chinese Food, eds. D.Y.H. Wu and S.C.H. Cheung, 1-18. London: Routledge Curzon. 14 Part 1: Mobile Foods 15 Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 1 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia Sidney C. H. Cheung Copyright © 2010 by Sidney C. H. Cheung All rights reserved 16 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction Recent anthropological studies on foodways have brought attention to changes in the local dynamics of production, representation, identity construction, postmodern consumerism, and several other changes. In particular, they have highlighted the globalization of local foodways as well as the localization of foreign foodways in various countries, reminding us that foodways are simultaneously local and global in terms of production, manufacturing, and marketing. Much scholarly attention has been given to the social and cultural construction of foodways; yet, a truly comprehensive view of food cannot neglect the politics of food production (Nestle 2002). Nor should we overlook the global movement of ingredients that travel from region to region and even across oceans from continent to continent (see Phillips 2006). The travels of these ingredients not only reminds us of how objects and materials travel, but also of how (our) concepts of food are changing, especially eating and cooking styles among various human groups. The historical movement of sugar helps to illustrate this point, as well as meanings associated with sugar in various social contexts. Mintz (1985) has shown that the consumption of this commodity is actually a complicated social development in the modern history of cultural interaction, and has inspired detailed studies on such items as tea, tobacco, coffee, etc., all of which have brought significant contributions to the understanding of our modern economy and politics. As the global network of fish for Japanese sushi, Bestor (2004) has demonstrated even a local fish market (Tsukiji in Tokyo) has affected the social economy of the world. By focusing on food to better understand the socio-cultural practices of globalization, we have also seen recent studies on soy bean products, improvising Chinese cuisine, American fast food, etc., among Asian countries (also see Cwiertka and Walraven 2000; Du Bois, Tan and Mintz 2008; Watson 1997; Wu and Cheung 2002). In this paper, I seek to examine the influences brought about by the movement of the red swamp crayfish (Procambarus clarkii and Pacifastacus leniusculus) from North America to Asia, especially to Lake Akan, Hokkaido (Japan) and Xuyi, Jiangsu in Mainland China, and investigate individual and community responses toward adaptation, consumption and conservation since the introduction of crayfish in the 1920s. Crayfish, also known as crawfish, are freshwater crustaceans resembling marine lobster but smaller in size. Different from those previous studies on cuisines or processed products, the introduction of crayfish to areas which originally did not exist helps us to investigate the impact brought by the American crayfish in Asia. In the process, I will describe how the introduction and cultivation of a foreign species has contributed to changes in the agricultural system of these regions as well as 17 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia the trade network in mainland China and environmental conservation in Japan. We have seen how many invasive (exotic or alien) freshwater fish have had enormous negative impacts on their new environments. A few examples are the Nile perch in Australia and Tanzania, the black bass in Japan, janitor fish in the Philippines, the bullfrog in South Korea, and grass carp and snakehead in North America. However, there are some species that have brought new foodways to their new habitat, such as the popular tilapia (an African food fish) in Asia, rainbow trout in Japan and the red swamp crayfish (Procambarus clarkii) in China. Of these, tracking down the spread of the red swamp crayfish both in Japan and China provides a wonderful case study, as it has spread globally and impacted two different countries in many ways. By focusing on the two Asian journeys of the red swamp crayfish, a native species from southern United States, this proposed research examines how it was widely accepted as a delicacy and a “new” agricultural product in mainland China while conversely it became a destructive, invasive creature “excluded” from agricultural production in Hokkaido’s freshwater lakes after being introduced more than seven decades ago. Crayfish live in freshwater while lobsters live in the sea. However, crayfish resemble the appearance of marine lobsters and have been marketed as “little lobsters” particularly in mainland China because of the upscale image of lobsters there. In fact, there are more than 500 varieties of crayfish in the world and in some countries they are a popular food item. The most well known culinary style would be the spicy Cajun cuisine, which originated in Louisiana and is widely considered a working class food in the southern part of the United States. Apart from the Cajun cuisine, many Americans still consider crayfish too “dirty and muddy” for eating. However, crayfish is a popular ingredient in both Sweden and Australia. For example, I was told that Swedish people hold crayfish parties at the end of summer, while yabby and marron are commonly eaten in Australia. The marron, for that matter, is considered an expensive ingredient for upscale restaurants. In my own experience, I found some Australian yabby and marron kept alive and sold in a Hong Kong upscale supermarket. How did crayfish get to Japan in the early 20th century? Historically speaking, the introduction of food in the form of agricultural product to certain developing countries was mostly for nutritional reasons, and Japan was not exceptional in the early 20th century. Beginning in the Meiji period, the Japanese government had plans for changing Japanese diets in order to improve nutrition and health, and milk and bread were introduced as part of the change. Also, the nutritional policy that was taking place within the armed forces in the 1920s was considered the turning point of Japanese dietary change (Cwiertka 1999). On the other hand, the ecological changes brought through the Food Increase Project should 18 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region not be overlooked; rainbow trout, bullfrogs and the Uchida crayfish (Pacifastacus leniusculus) were just a few foreign water species that were introduced to Japan from North America in the pre-war period, together with the red swamp crayfish to feed the bullfrogs. Yet, the bullfrog died out mostly in the 1960s because of the excessive use of agricultural pesticides. Meanwhile, both kinds of crayfish stayed and grew rapidly all over Japan, especially in Hokkaido. One might ask why Hokkaido has more American crayfish compared to other regions. First, we need to understand that Hokkaido was renamed from Ezo-chi after the Meiji Restoration in 1868 and was designated as the largest piece of land by the Meiji government for experimentation with imported western agricultural technologies (Morris–Suzuki 1994). At that time, western technologies included the production of dairy products, salmon aquaculture, and canned product processing. These imported modern technologies enabled the steady supply of food to mainland Japan, thus justifying the idea of colonizing Hokkaido during the early Meiji period (1868-1912). It was within this context that American crayfish were introduced into several self-contained lakes in Hokkaido. Japan has its own native crayfish (Cambaroides japonicus), which is relatively small compared to those from North America. However, Japanese did not eat crayfish except in some parts of Hokkaido until two decades ago. The imported species— red swamp crayfish (P. clarkii which was introduced to Japan in 1930 as feed for the American bullfrog) and Uchida crayfish (Pacifastacus leniusculus, which was introduced to Hokkaido in 1926 as food for human consumption and also as feed for rainbow trout). These species competed with the Japanese native crayfish (C. japonicus) and won in the test of survival (Nisikawa, Motohara and Nakano 2001). Yet, recent data shows that the overgrowth of the exotic Uchida crayfish in the Lake Akan was related to a serious decrease in the amount of rainbow trout in the area (see Figure 1). More importantly, marimo (a kind of spherical algae found at the bottom of Lake Akan and a governmentrecognized natural heritage in Japan) was also damaged by crayfish (Cheung 2005). Figure 1. Uchida crayfish found in Lake Akan Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung 19 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia Figure 2. Boiled crayfish in Akan Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung Most Japanese think crayfish carry some muddy taste and is considered dirty as a freshwater creature. Yet, practically speaking, some Japanese do eat the crayfish in a simple way of cooking. I only had a chance to eat boiled crayfish in a small restaurant in Lake Akan, which is run by some local fishermen (see Figure 2). Lake Akan and Lake Toro in Kushiro area are the only two locations where fishery cooperatives gained rights to collect and catch Uchida crayfish for commercial usage, starting from 15 -16 years ago. Uchida crayfish is caught for food consumption, and sold for both canned soup processing and seafood for some local restaurants (see Figure 3). After 2004, Uchida crayfish was labeled as an “invasive” species, and the demand dropped significantly since 2004. Until 2004, five to six tons of Uchida crayfish were caught in Lake Akan by local fishermen, but during the last few years, the total amount caught from Lake Akan is three to four tons yearly. A representative of the Lake Akan Fisheries Cooperatives stated in an interview that there were two major reasons for the decline of crayfish demand in Hokkaido. First, the image of “invasiveness” gave a kind of negative influence. However, that might not be the major factor. Once Uchida crayfish was labeled as an “invasive” species, they could not be transported alive and had to be cooked or frozen before transport. Therefore, some hotels and restaurants that used to order live crayfish for cooking stopped buying from the suppliers as well as fisheries cooperatives. 20 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Figure 3. Cooking Uchida crayfish in Akan Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung Figure 4. Five cans of “lobster” soup in a gift set Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung Besides being served as a boiled dish, crayfish has been processed into canned “lobster soup” for domestic consumption. As I was told, about one ton of Uchida crayfish is needed for ten thousand cans of “lobster soup” which is sold at 500-600 yen per can in retail stores in the Lake Akan area (see Figure 4). This soup is often sold as a gift set for visitors to Akan who bring them back home as souvenirs. Aside from the situation at Lake Akan and Lake Toro, Lake Toya provides a different case showing how Uchida crayfish was treated as invasive. According to my informant, at Lake Toya crayfish cannot be sold because there is no permit. Therefore, the only way to get rid of them (to maintain the ecological balance) is to continue catching them and then throwing them away. Making crayfish into lobster in mainland China P. clarkii was brought to Jiangsu area by the Japanese in 1930, although the reason is still unclear. According to my informants, local Jiangsu people tended to believe that there was a Japanese conspiracy to use the crayfish to destroy their rice paddies, since crayfish like to eat the roots of crops, and more importantly, they dig holes which drain water away from the rice paddies. Therefore, the local people did not welcome the crayfish at all. Given that crayfish brought no benefits to the people, and that they could still survive in dirty water, it was not considered edible by most people. Even now, it is not difficult to hear that even Chinese people in Jiangsu are surprised to know that eating crayfish has become a popular dish in the mainland. Again, for some who enjoy eating crayfish in Jiangsu, they told me that they only consider buying the live green shell ones at the market for home cooking 21 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia instead of eating them in restaurants, because once cooked it is difficult to single out the “dirty” ones after they turn into red. Yet, local villagers in Xuyi told me that in the past they caught crayfish in the river as a kind of leisure-time activity and ate them in a simple cooking style—mainly boiling. As a commercial item, for a long time no one paid any attention to it. Then came the emergence of a dish called “Nanjing little lobster (longxia),” which appeared in the early 1990s, and its rapid growth in popularity was not limited to Nanjing but extended to large cities such as Shanghai, Wuhan, Beijing, and so on, during the last decade. Starting from 1992, the redclaw crayfish (Cherax quadricarinatus) from North Australia was also introduced to China (Chen and Edgerton 2001). It is important to investigate how the demand has been expanding and what the impact has been on red swamp crayfish farming in the local context. In Louisiana, crayfish aquaculture is dominated by P. clarkii (red swamp crayfish) and P. zonangulus (white river crayfish), while the species that has became popular in the Jiangsu area is the red swamp variety, which is cooked in a hot spicy way (Huner 1992). My first encounter (in 2006) with red swamp crayfish in China was at a local restaurant in Nanjing city, where the “little lobster” was cooked in Sichuan, as well, in a hot and spicy style. It was sold at relatively low price at about one RMB each at that time. When I visited Nanjing again in 2008, however, I was brought to an upscale restaurant for this dish and was surprised to find that the price was RMB 128 for a dish in which there were about 20-30 cooked crayfish prepared in a hot, spicy style. Many people in Xuyi told me that eating crayfish in restaurants was becoming too luxurious and they could no longer afford it. Interestingly, I noticed at the above Nanjing restaurant a small leaflet on our table mentioning that “Today I am a little lobster, but one day I will be an Australian lobster.” Obviously, we know this slogan is wrong because freshwater crayfish will not grow into a marine lobster. With its rising prices in the last decade, however, spicy crayfish has become a welcome dish offered by the local hosts for their guests visiting Nanjing. What had happened in Nanjing demonstrates not only the rising price of crayfish marketed as “little lobster,” but also the upscale move of crayfish from a peasant’s food of unknown origin to a luxurious gourmet food that represents new Nanjing foodways. With this surprising upward mobility, I consider this as a timely example for the investigation of land use and agricultural changes brought by China’s emerging rural enterprises. Regarding the nationwide catching of “little lobster” for food consumption, it is mentioned that only 6,700 tons were harvested in the early 1990s; subsequently it was recorded that 6.55 million tons were harvested in 1995 and increased to around 10 million tons in 1999 (Xia 2007, 3). If we only consider the production in the Jiangsu area, the amount of “little lobster” harvested in 1995 was 3 million tons, while it increased to 6 million tons in 1999 (Xia 2007, 3). In order to 22 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region understand the local production of crayfish from the farmers’ perspectives, I made two visits to Xuyi and interviewed several farmers regarding their experiences in crayfish farming and relevant ideas about the future of their business. Figure 5. Crayfish fed by corn powder in Xuyi Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung The first farmer I met in Xuyi used to be a crab farmer who explained that “Crab easily gets diseased and the feed for crab is much more expensive compared to the feed for crayfish.” I realized how cheap the feed for crayfish could be upon visiting the second farmer who used to be a lotus root farmer. He said that, apart from some corn powder, leftover parts from butchering chicken and duck was purchased to feed the Figure 6. Farming crayfish in a lotus pond Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung crayfish (see Figures 5 & 6). The reason for him to start cultivating crayfish was his discovery of the crayfish’s habits of 23 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia hiding beneath the lotus leaves in order to seek shelter from the heat (see Figure 7). However, when I interviewed another crayfish farmer (a former necktie trader from Zhejiang who moved to Xuyi to invest in crayfish cultivation), I was told that crayfish farming was not such an easy job as most local farmer thought, which was essentially that crayfish can grow anywhere. In fact, the Zhejiang Figure 7. Crayfish cultivated in Xuyi Photo by Sidney C. H. Cheung trader was not the only one to say so. Another investor from a nearby county said that the reason they needed to have a large-scale operation for good quality crayfish was that the harvest rate they could expect was far less than the estimation of many local farmers. Therefore, they made a total investment of RMB 50 million for the 2,000 mows (1 mow is equivalent to 7,274 sq. feet) farming area in Xuyi in 2007, and planned to develop tourism together with food production as a kind of ecological-friendly resort project. Another crayfish farm I visited having a similar idea in development was a joint venture between a local company and an Australian company that occupied far more space. Their business was obviously much larger than any fishpond I had ever seen in Xuyi. The total farming capacity is estimated to be 50,000 mows, 10,000 mows run by the company and 40,000 mows designated as supporting areas cultivated by other farmers for the same brand. My question here is how much of the rice paddy was turned into a crayfish pond, and how will the production of a stable food be affected in the long run. I do not have the answer at this time but am sure this is going to be an important issue for the Jiangsu area in the coming decade. Together with the establishment of the Xuyi Lobster Museum in 2005 and the outdoor stadium with an audience capacity of 50,000, which is only used for the International Lobster Festival (It started in 2001 as a local festival and was developed into an international one by inviting delegation from other countries to participate.), we can realize the positive support from the government in building up Xuyi as the City of Lobster. On the other hand, I was told by some local people that there was a serious shortage of crayfish in terms of supply, and many of the crayfish consumed during the festival were actually transported from other areas. Therefore, if Xuyi is going to be developed as the trade center for crayfish, it should consider maintaining stability of supply, fair pricing and food safety issues of the business. As far as I have heard from different farmers in Xuyi, there is no standardization of feed, or official 24 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region technical support, or quality control in crayfish cultivation. Of course, there is not even a control on crayfish that comes from outside of Xuyi, even though these imports are branded as “Xuyi Longxia.” Another farmer I interviewed in Xuyi acknowledged that negative news about the cleanliness of the crayfish could adversely affect their business. However, they felt that nothing could be done regarding the spread of negative information. Technically speaking, biologists have given the alert concerning excessive production based on a small genetic pool, and this is a kind of worry for those involved with mass production of P. clarkii in the Jiangsu area. In 2004, biologists discovered a common bacteria existing in both crayfish and Shanghai mitten crab (Wang, Gu, Ding, Ren, Chen and Hou 2005). Therefore, the information I found over the Internet about bacteria carried by crayfish and the fact that crayfish can survive in contaminated water not suitable for human consumption should not be overlooked. In the future, I would like to know how crayfish farming will be affected by these circumstances as they try to maintain economic returns from mitten crab farming, and more importantly, deal with the safety issue of crayfish consumption in China. Finally, in addition to the local consumption of crayfish in China, large amounts of frozen crayfish tails are exported “back” to the United States, causing political responses by Louisiana crayfish producers which could affect international trade policy. The exportation of frozen crayfish back to the United States and such European countries as Sweden has been an important debate in relation to foreign trade policy, protectionism, and the intervention of the state government. Through this issue we can see the meanings of foodways from a political perspectives (Thies and Porche 2007). Concluding remarks To conclude, we have seen two stories of crayfish harvesting in Japan and China and can see how the impact upon local communities is very different. The problem in Hokkaido is obviously an environmental issue, which will be a challenging matter for the government, the fishery cooperative, restaurants, and the local fishing community. Therefore, it is important for us to keep an eye on its development and investigate how various interests (farmers, investors, consumers, and the government) can work together for natural conservation and safety. As for the problem in mainland China, I would like to focus on the negative image people have about the dirtiness of crayfish with the recognition, while they also have their own ways to choose and consume the clean ones. With the socio-economic changes taking place in mainland China affected by its Open Door policy since 1978, it is important to understand how the concept of food production has changed, especially from the basic daily necessities to luxurious gourmet eating among local people, and from domestic consumption to 25 The Social Life of American Crayfish in Asia international exports. Regarding the changing foodways in Asian societies, Watson and Caldwell (2005) remind us that the major concern of food security is no more about whether we have enough food to eat, but whether our food is up to safety standards, and whether the supply is sustainable and the quality can be maintained. By combining my field research on the development of crayfish farming with an ethnographic study of a new agricultural economy resulting from state policies on rural reform, a further understanding of mainland China’s changing lifestyles both in the urban and rural areas will be expected. Acknowledgment The initial research for this paper was made possible by the CUHK Direct Grant on a research project entitled, “The Rippling Effects on Crayfish Farming in Three Cultures.” 26 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References Bestor, Theodore C. 2004. Tsukiji: The Fish Market at the Center of the World. Berkeley: The University of California Press. Chen, Xiaoxuan and Brett F. Edgerton. 2001. Freshwater Crayfish Culture in China. Aquaculture Magazine (November-December): 41-44. Cheung, Sidney C. H. 2005. Rethinking Ainu Heritage: A Case Study of an Ainu Settlement in Hokkaido, Japan. International Journal of Heritage Studies 11 (3): 197-210. Cwiertka, Katarzyna J. 1999. The Making of Modern Culinary Tradition in Japan. Unpublished doctoral dissertation submitted to Lieden University. Cwiertka, Katarzyna and Boudewijn Walraven. 2000. Asian Food: The Global and The Local. Surrey: Curzon. Du Bois, Christine M., Tan Chee-Beng and Sidney Mintz. 2008. The World of Soy. Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Huner, Jay V. 1992. Chinese Crawfish and the Louisiana Crawfish Industry. Aquaculture Magazine (March-April): 6-13. Mintz, Sidney W. 1985. Sweetness and Power: The Place of Sugar in Modern History. New York: Viking Penguin. Morris-Suzuki, Tessa. 1994. The Technological Transformation of Japan: From the Seventeenth to the Twenty-first Century. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press. Nestle, Marion. 2002. Food Politics: How the Food Industry Influences Nutrition and Health. Berkeley: University of California Press. Nisikawa, Usio, Motohara Konishi and Shigeru Nakano. 2001. Species Displacement Between an Introduced and a ‘Vulnerable’ Crayfish: The Role of Aggressive Interactions and Shelter Competition. Biological Invasions 3: 179-185. Phillips, Lynne. 2006. Food and Globalization. Annual Review of Anthropology 35: 37-57. Thies, Cameron G. and Schuyler Porche. 2007. Crawfish Tails: A Curious Tale of Foreign Trade Policy Making. Foreign Policy Analysis 3: 171-187. Wang, Wen, Wei Gu, Zhengfeng Ding, Yalai Ren, Jianxiu Chen and Yayi Hou. 2005. A Novel Spiroplasma Pathogen Causing Systemic Infection in the Crayfish Procambarus Clarkii (Crustacea: Decapod), in China. FEMS Microbiology Letters 249: 131-137. Watson, James L. ed. 1997. Golden Arches East: McDonald’s in East Asia. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Watson, James L. and Melissa L. Caldwell. eds. 2005. The Cultural Politics of Food and Eating: A Reader. Malden: Blackwell. Wu, David Y. H. and Sidney C. H. Cheung. eds. 2002. The Globalization of Chinese Food. Surrey: RoutledgeCurzon. Xia, Aijun. 2007. Xiaolongxia Yangzhi Jishu (little lobster cultivation technique). Beijing: China Agriculture University Press. 27 Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 2 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige Copyright © 2010 by Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige All rights reserved 28 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction The cuisines of East Asia are based on a combination of rice, fish and vegetables, with most animal proteins obtained from aquatic organisms, mainly fish. Throughout East Asia, much of the seasonally available fish is preserved by fermentation, and fermented foods are consumed daily. In that region, eating large quantities of rice is a cheap source of vegetable protein, amino acids and energy. Therefore, a vital individual foodstuff is either a salty side dish or a condiment that facilitates rice consumption. Fermented products are well suited for this, since they are simple to produce and cook, have a long shelf life, and impart umami1 and a salty taste to vegetable dishes (Mizutani et al. 1987; Kimizuka et al. 1992). It is no coincidence that the main regions where fermented fish products are consumed overlap with the main regions of irrigated rice cultivation. The Generic Products The term “fermented fish products” is used here to describe the products of freshwater and marine finfish, shellfish and crustaceans that are processed with salt to cause fermentation, and thereby to prevent putrefaction.2 Such a wide range of these foods is produced in East Asia that a strict classification by product type must be limited to individual countries or linguistic groups. Therefore we use a simple generic classification (Fig. 1 and Table 1) based on both the nature of the final product and the method used to prepare it. The prototypical product is probably the highly salted fish, which in Japan is known as shiokara.3 The product of combining fish and salt that preserves the shape of the original raw fish material we term shiokara. This can be comminuted to shiokara paste, which has a condiment like character. If no vegetable ingredients are added, the salt fish mixture yields fish sauce, a liquid used as a pure condiment. If cooked vegetable ingredients are added to the fish and salt mixture, it becomes narezushi. 1 Umami is a category recognized by Japanese as the taste of glutamic acid (O’Mahony and Ishii 1987). 2. Although the same phenomenon occurs with salted fish products, the state of those products described here is altered intentionally by fermentation. Thus such African fermented fish products as ndagala, salanga, guedj, djege and momome, together with others from various parts of Africa (Essuman 1992), shidal (Assam), nya sode (Bhutan), pedah (Indonesia), jadi (Sri Lanka), and kisrayaruiba (Siberia), among many others, do not fit into the category of intentionally fermented products discussed here (Ruddle and Ishige 2005). The liquamen or garam of Imperial Rome was fermented intentionally, and is of the same type as the East Asian fermented fish products (Corcoran 1963; Gamer 1987; Grimal and Monod 1952). However, there is no evidence that the fish sauces of Asia originated by diffusion from the Mediterranean Basin or vice versa. The origins of these geographically distinct groups appear to be different. 3. Since there are no succinct equivalent English terms for these products, we have used simple Japanese terms throughout. They are defined in the next two sentences. 29 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia Table 1: Types and Nomenclature of Fermented Fish Foods in East Asia Country Fermented Food Product Category Shiokara Shrimp Fish Paste Fish Sauce Shrimp Sauce Narezushi Padek tuk trey nam tom Phaak terasi ikan kecap ikan Paste Bangladesh nappi Cambodia prahok kapi China yujiang shajiang Indonesia bakasam terasi wadi udang bakasem ikan masim Japan shiokara shiotsuru Narezushi ishiri ikanago-shoyu Korea Laos jeot saewoo- myeol-chi-jeot- jeot guk pa daek Malaysia pa daek belacan Shikhe nam paa som paa budu pekasam cincalok ikan masim Myanmar Philippines ngapi- ngapi gaung seinsa bagoong bagoong ngapitaungtha ngagampyaye pazunggampyaye nga(+)ngapi patis alamang patis burong isda nam pla nam kapi pla ra alamang dinailan guinamos oyap Thailand pla ra kapi budu pla som thai pla Vietnam ca mam mam ruoc mam mem nuoc mam nam tom mam chau mam tom Fig. 1: A generic classification of fermented fish products in Asia 30 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Woman stirring fermentation jars of shiokara at Ubon Lat Dam Village, Khon Kaen Province, Northeast Thailand On Ishigaki Island, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan, shiokara is known locally as suku, and made from juvenile Rabbitfish (Siganus spp.) Copyright of all maps and tables in this article belong to Kenneth Ruddle and Naomichi Ishige. All photographs by Kenneth Ruddle. 31 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia (1) Shiokara Shiokara is consumed mostly as a side dish, and is important in the cuisines of Cambodia, Laos, North and Northeast Thailand, Lower Myanmar, the Philippines (Luzon and the Visayas), and Korea. In Japan, shiokara was formerly an important side dish, but is now just a specialized, savory product. Among the Han Chinese, shiokara is now a local and mostly forgotten food (Fig. 2a). The paste form can be dissolved in water and used as a soup stock or for dipping. The liquid in shiokara (the nam pla deak of North Thailand, for example) is always drained off during production. Shiokara products contain salt plus a range of other ingredients to enhance the taste.4 Sometimes a small quantity of boiled rice is added, making it difficult to distinguish chemically between, for example, Thai pra la and narezushi, although they are defined differently in folk taxonomy. Fig. 2a: The Geographical Distribution of shiokara 4. Flavor arises mainly from chemical action. For example, in the production of pra la, the shiokara of Thailand, rice bran or parched rice powder is added to enhance the aromatic content of the final product. In Thailand, kem bak nat is made from chopped fish flesh, fish eggs and diced pineapple. The latter adds a protein-decaying enzyme in addition to imparting a sour taste and fragrance to the product. (Jackfruit and pineapple added to fish sauce in Vietnam also have the same effect.) (Ruddle and Ishige 2005). 32 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region (2) Fish Sauce The preparation of fish sauce is the same as for making shiokara. However, particularly in commercial establishments, the intent is to prepare fish sauce and not shiokara. The manufacture of fish sauce is scattered geographically (Fig. 2b). Fig. 2b: The Geographical Distribution of Fish Sauce Homemade anchovy fish sauce (nuoc mam) at Muy Ne Ward, Phan Thiet City, Binh Thuan Province, Vietnam Concrete fermentation tanks at a modern fish sauce factory in Rayong Province, Thailand 33 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia (3) Narezushi Narezushi results when boiled carbohydrates (normally just rice) are added to the fish and salt mixture used to prepare shiokara. This category of foodstuffs now occurs only in Southeast and Northeast Asia (Fig. 2c). Fig. 2c: The Geographical Distribution of Narezushi Narezushi (pla som) in the Khon Kaen Market, Thailand Narezushi (pla som) in the Khon Kaen Market, Thailand 34 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region (4) Fermented shrimp products Uncomminuted shiokara, shiokara paste and sauce are the three main fermented shrimp products produced in East Asia (Fig. 2d). Superficially, these can be substituted for the fish products in Fig. 1. Perhaps, during the evolution of fermented fish products, the techniques of making fish shiokara were simply applied to the preparation of shrimp paste. However, it is also possible that some shrimp products did not originate as a variant of shiokara, because in some areas fermented shrimp paste is produced without salt, as is sometimes the case in Bangladesh, Myanmar, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Some shrimp pastes have a very low salt content compared with fermented fish products, which may be a result of the different compositions of fish and shrimp. Shrimp has a carapace and a higher watery content than fish. Also, the texture of the carapace remains part of the final product, as in Japan and Korea, and in the bagoong alamang of the Philippines. In cases where the product is kept for a long period, the carapace Fig. 2d: The Geographical Distribution of Shrimp Paste eventually decomposes and the product becomes a semi liquid paste (e.g., the shajiang of Shandong Province, China). Semi solid shrimp paste, such as the kind prepared in Southeast Asia, requires drying, and since the water content is removed, only a little salt is required. This reduction of the water content produces a stronger tasting kind of shrimp paste essence. Blocks of sun-dried fermented shrimp paste (terasi) ready for wrapping at a cottage industry level producer’s house in Rembang, Central Java, Indonesia 35 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia On the other hand, shrimp shiokara could have originated from the preparation of sun dried shrimp. Only two techniques, fermentation and sun drying, are used to preserve epipelagic shrimp. Sun drying is the simplest, but it does not overcome the problem of the coarse texture of the carapace and hence the need for comminuting. Comminuting sun dried shrimp without the addition of salt produces an unsalted shrimp paste. However, salting this kind of paste enhances both the taste and shelf life. Thus, despite the lack of strong supporting evidence, the origin of shrimp paste from sun dried shrimp is compelling. Women removing foreign matter from epipelagic shrimp prior to comminuting them into paste at Klong Kon Village, Samut Songkhlam Province, Thailand The Study of Fremented Fish Products Studies of East Asian fermented fish products remain few and fragmented and are confined mostly to specialized research. Moreover, most studies deal with chemical analyses. In Southeast Asia, the most comprehensive research was done in Vietnam during colonial times, and focused mainly on chemical analysis of sauce quality, 36 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region specifically for taxation purposes.5 The early work in Vietnam was summarized by Van Veen (1953, 1965). General reviews of fermented fish products have been published by the Indo-Pacific Fisheries Council (1967), the Tropical Products Institute (1982) and Steinkraus (1983a, 1983b, 1985). These reviews outline the main processing techniques and describe the basic chemical components of the principal products. In addition, scattered reports (e.g., Lee et al. 1993) contain basic chemical analyses from some other countries. Most publications on narezushi are in Japanese (e.g., Shinoda, 1952, 1957, 1961, 1966, 1978), and, prior to the work of Ishige and Ruddle (2005), these products were virtually ignored in Western-language publications. In 1982-1985 Ishige and Ruddle conducted a comprehensive field survey on the fermented fish products industry, from the catching of the raw materials to their culinary use in Bangladesh, Cambodia, China, India, Indonesia, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Myanmar, the Philippines, Taiwan, Thailand, and Vietnam (Ishige and Ruddle, 1987, 1990; Ruddle and Ishige 2005).6 The field survey was conducted using questionnaires and structured interviews of factory managers, household producers, market vendors, wholesalers, and consumers. Study of related literature covered the cultural and historical contexts in terms of the products’ origin, diffusion and history, particularly for China, Japan and Korea, with information being culled from historical cookery books, character dictionaries, general descriptions, and other documents. Where such documentary materials were not available, Ishige and Ruddle briefly examined the culture history of Southeast Asia and interpreted ethnolinguistic evidence based on the local terminology for fermented fish products. In these ways, it was possible to trace the likely origins and routes of diffusion, together with the development of fermented fish culture in Southeast Asia. To understand the common culinary applications of fermented fish products, 273 samples were obtained during field research, of which 38 typical samples were analyzed chemically. Culture History and Human Ecology (1) Human migrations in Indo-China Since the widest variety of fermented fish products and their principal dietary role occurs in continental Southeast Asia, this area should be regarded as one center of their origin. In that region, early human settlement was in those areas most suited to cultivating irrigated rice. Therefore, freshwater fish species naturally occurring in 5. See in particular Autret and Vialard Goudou (1939), Blache and Goosens (1954), Boez and Guillerm (1930a and 1930b), Chevey and Le Poulain (1940), Lafont (1950), Mesnard and Rose (1920), Nguyen and Vialard Goudou (1953), Rose (1918, 1918b, 1918c, 1918d), and Vialard Goudou (1941, 1942a, 1942b, 1942c, 1942d, 1943). 6. The Ajinomoto Company, of Tokyo, supported the study by Ishige and Ruddle. 37 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia local hydrological systems would have been fermented. These products continue to be best developed from the area west of the Annamite Mountains to Lower Burma, where the main populations are Thai-Lao, Burmese and Khmer (Ishige and Ruddle, 1987; 1990; Ruddle and Ishige 2005). The Burmese originated from an area in Chinese Central Asia and Tibet where there was no fisheries tradition, so it is unlikely that they prepared fermented fish prior to their southward migration. Further, the Thai-Lao originated in Yunnan, where the only historical reports on fermented fish products concern narezushi (Shinoda 1952; Ishige 1986). There are no Chinese historical documents indicating the preparation or use of fermented fish products among the minority ethnic groups that lived south of the Yangtze River (1952; 1986). Many of these peoples were Thai-Lao. Most likely, the Thai-Lao adopted the use of fermented fish from the earlier inhabitants after entering the Indo-Chinese peninsula, and therefore fermented fish products did not originate in China (Ishige and Ruddle, 1987, 1990; Ruddle and Ishige 2005). It is likely that fermented fish products were made in the Indo-Chinese peninsula before the in-migration of the various ethic groups. However, only philological evidence supports our suggestion that narezushi was known in the area and that the Han Chinese learned of it during the course of their extremely prolonged expansion south of the Yangtze. It appears that narezushi was prepared by the rice cultivators of Southeast Asia, and was taken from there to China. Narezushi remains common in Laos, Cambodia, and North and Northeast Thailand, i.e., in the Mekong Basin. Although the present day inhabitants of this area are Laotians and Khmers, the Mekong Basin was formerly co-extensive with the Khmer civilization (Cœdès 1962). In this respect, the hypothesis that rice cultivation originated in Yunnan and spread down the Mekong Valley into Laos, Thailand and Cambodia, with Myanmar and Vietnam as branches (Shinoda 1977), is important, because this coincides with the center of narezushi and other fermented fish production. It is probable that irrigated rice cultivation and the associated rice field fishing originated in Yunnan and diffused southwards down the Mekong Valley. However, given the marked seasonality of fish abundance along the Mekong Valley (e.g., Khumsri et al. 2009; Ruddle 1987), it can be assumed that a need arose to preserve fish for times of scarcity, which eventually gave rise to fish fermentation. The center of salt production, the ecological zonation of irrigated rice cultivation, and the seasonal behavior of fish stocks all support this hypothesis. 38 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region (2) The availability of salt Preparation of fermented fish products requires plentiful amounts of salt, which in itself would determine their origin and distribution. In the interior of continental Southeast Asia, a salt-bearing red sandstone stratum extends from Yunnan to the northern Indo-Chinese peninsula (Sinanuwong and Takaya 1974a, 1974b). Salt is collected throughout that region by farmers of irrigated rice but not by shifting cultivators, further suggesting that fish fermentation arose in this area. On the Korat Plateau of Northeast Thailand, for example, salt in the underlying sandstone dissolves during the wet season and is brought to the surface by capillary action during the dry. Salt seems also to have been collected by the earlier Khmer occupants of the region, from whom the ancestors of the present population acquired it. Northeastern Thailand is also that part of Asia where the cuisine depends most heavily on fermented fish products, and there, too, local salt is readily available. In terms of salt supply, it may therefore be surmised that the Khmer, Cham and Mon were the peoples most intimately concerned with the history of fermented fish products. (3) Seasonal ecological conditions in rice cultivation zones The relationship between seasonal hydrological conditions and inland fisheries in the different agro-ecological zones of rice cultivation is also important. Mountainous areas are inhabited mainly by shifting cultivators, who do not cultivate irrigated rice and who live where the fish fauna is sparse. Early irrigation networks developed in intermontane basins and alluvial fans within the mountains are flooded in the rainy season and suffer drought in the dry. During the dry season, fish populations are limited only to the larger watercourses and to mud fish in pools and swamps. In the wet season, however, the fish and other aquatic fauna is widely distributed throughout the flooded area. Seasonally abundant fish caught at the end of the wet season are therefore preserved by fermentation for year-round use. In contrast, upper deltas areas have large and abundant watercourses, and are widely flooded during the rainy season. Since fresh fish is available throughout the year, there is generally no need for preservation. Lower deltas are annually subject to extensive and prolonged flooding. In general, as in the Chao Phrya Basin of Thailand, rice cultivators have settled these areas relatively recently. Since fish is always abundant, preservation is not necessary in lower delta areas. Finally, in such rain fed plateau areas as the Korat Plateau of Northeastern Thailand, rice cultivation developed locally in interior drainage basins. In such locations, the regional hydrological system becomes integrated only in the wet season, which is also when the fish fauna becomes widely distributed over the area, rice fields included. In contrast, the fish catch is small and confined to limited areas during the dry season. This strong seasonal contrast in resource availability makes the preservation of the wet season catch imperative. 39 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia In Thailand, for example, fish fermentation is most highly developed in the Korat Plateau, followed by the northern intermontane basins. However, in the upper delta region, around Nakhon Sawan and Ayutthaya, fermented fish products are little used in this fish-rich region, which nowadays supplies other regions with fish for fermenting. In the lower delta and coastal zone, fermentation is a recent industry and depends on marine fish. In mountainous areas, eating fermented fish is a recent phenomenon, resulting from contact with lowland Thai markets. (4) The ethnolinguistic evidence In the absence of documentary evidence, a general history of human migration plus ethnolinguistic evidence can be used to reconstruct the probable history of the diffusion of fermented aquatic product production in continental Southeast Asia (Ishige and Sakiyama 1988).7 Just a few basic points are made here. In the Khmer and Mon languages, prahoc denotes fermented fish products in general and is sometimes used to refer specifically to shiokara and shiokara-paste. This term occurs in Myanmar, Cambodia and part of Thailand, and probably originated in the old stratum of languages of the Indo-Chinese Peninsula to denote fermented fish products. The Khmer term phaak (narezushi) was derived from prahoc. Kapi (Ngapi) originated from Burmese and was borrowed by the Thais and Cambodians. In Myanmar, ngapi is the generic term for “fermented fish,” whereas in the Cambodian and Thai languages it refers only to shrimp paste. In fact, the term pra-la and its cognates are of Lao-Thai origin, and were introduced to the people of the Mekong and Chao-Phrya valleys by Lao and Thai immigrants. The Burmese, who penetrated the region of Mon-speakers, used the term ngapi, which was later adopted by Cambodians and Thais to denote shrimp paste. Mam is a Vietnamese term used generically to denote fermented fish products, which are more specifically defined by the addition of adjectives. Mam was also borrowed by Cambodian and Thai-speakers. Although the terminology differs, the common concept of fish sauce (“fish water”) is expressed linguistically by similar devices throughout Southeast Asia, as in nam pla (lit. “water of fish”) in Thai, or nuoc mam (lit. “water of fermented fish”) in Vietnamese. The concept of liquid emerging during shiokara-making is similarly expressed as nam pladaek (lit. “water of shiokara”) in Thai. 7. Dictionaries played a vital role in this part of the research. Those consulted were Chantrupanth and Phromjakgarin (1978), Headley et al. (1977), Moussay (1971), Romah (1977), Sakamoto (1976a) and (1976b), Shorto (1962), Shintani (1981), Smith (1967) and Thongkum and Gainey (1978). 40 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Conclusions: Culture History and Conundrums As a rule, fermented fish products are added to vegetables and eaten with rice. They serve mainly as a salty and umami condiment that assists in the consumption of large quantities of rice. These products are not side dishes, and their role as an animal protein complement to rice has been exaggerated. Further, their chemical composition does not vary by fish species. Throughout Southeast Asia, fermented fish products are indispensable for economically poorer populations, who consume them daily in relatively large amounts. However, as household incomes improve, consumption decreases in favor of either delicatessen-like fermented fish products, or increasingly commercialized products such as fish sauce, which displace the coarser, traditional village items, like fish paste. Whereas previous studies have been concerned with marine fish, our research reveals that freshwater species are more important, especially in the Mekong Basin, where these products probably originated among cultivators of irrigated rice. In mainland Southeast Asia, many varieties of fermented products coincide with the geographical distribution of wet rice cultivation and fishing in rice fields and their irrigation canals. In contrast, the origin and diffusion of fermented aquatic products in Northeast Asia and the Philippines remains unknown; it is not known if Chinese fish fermentation techniques originated in China, or in Southeast Asia. Further, the route(s) of diffusion from coastal China to Korea and Japan remains unclear. And it cannot be confirmed if shiokara in the Philippines originated locally or was introduced from continental East Asia. In China prior to the Han Dynasty, fermented meat and fermented aquatic products were already in existence (Ishige and Ruddle 1987, 1990). They were fermented with salt, grain mold koji and wine.8 In later eras, soybeans and grains replaced meat and fish. Fermented vegetable crop products of this kind spread widely through Northeast Asia and supplanted those based on aquatic organisms, with the exception of Korea, where shiokara (joet-kal) remains an important side dish (Lee 1984). The simplicity of the processing techniques and uniformity of the final products is undoubtedly one explanation for their wide geographical diffusion throughout East Asia. Based on the production technique used, it cannot be said if shiokara diffused from one or several sources, or originated independently. Apart from continental 8. Koji is a fermentation starter. 41 On the Origins, Diffusion and Cultural Context of Fermented Fish Products in Southeast Asia Southeast Asia, where freshwater fish are common, shiokara is made from marine fish. In China, shiokara was made along the entire coast; however, it became a “relict” food with scattered distribution. The origin of shiokara made of freshwater fish with the addition of koji and rice wine is unknown. This variation is mentioned in ancient Chinese documents as yujiang, but it cannot be ascertained whether the product is of local origin or if it came from Southeast Asia. Further, it is not known whether it originated from shiokara made with marine fish, nor is it known if the method originated from a simple salt plus fish shiokara, a process that was gradually refined to produce yujiang. An alternative hypothesis is that, as in Southeast Asia, yujiang existed before the development of shiokara, based on freshwater species. It is possible that fermentation is not related to the use of koji in shiokara-making. In the Later Han Dynasty (25-20 AD) Shandong Province was occupied by people of Southeast Asian origin, and therefore koji could have originated in Southeast Asia. The deliberate production of fish sauce as a special product is relatively recent. Historically, a liquid natural by-product of shiokara-making was used as a condiment, as in Cambodia, Japan, Myanmar, the Philippines, and Northeast Thailand, prior to the commercial manufacture and wide distribution of fish sauce as a specific product. 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Van Veen, A.G. 1953. Fish Preservation in Southeast Asia. Advances in Food Research 4: 209–232. Van Veen, A.G. 1965. Fermented and Dried Seafood Products in Southeast Asia, In Fish as Food v.3 Processing, ed. Georg, Borgstrom, Pt. 1, 227–250. New York: Academic Press. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1941.Teneur en Bases Volatiles et en Acides Volatiles de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam). Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 19: 1061–1071. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1942a. Les Composants Mineraux de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam) II. Calcium, Magnesium et Fer. Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 19: 589–594. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1942b. Etude Chimique de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam), Recherche et Dosage de l’Indol et des Corps Indologenes. Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 20: 853–858. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1942c. Etude Chimique de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam), les Acides Amines: Dosage de la Tyrosine Totale. Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 20: 859– 876. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1942d. Etude Chimique de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam), Recherche et Caracterisation de Quelques Produits de Degradation: Acide Butyrique, Acide Lactique, Derives de l’Imidazol (Histamine) et Tyramine. Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 20: 960–963. Vialard-Goudou, A. 1943. Etude Chimique de la Saumure Indochinoise (Nuoc Mam), Recherche et Dosage de l’Acide Indol B. Acétique. Revue Médicale Française d’Extrême Orient 9 10: 879–887. 45 Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 3 Problems on Sea Cucumber Conservation Jun Akamine Copyright © 2010 by Jun Akamine All rights reserved 46 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region 1. Introduction Globalization can be defined as “the coming and going of things, capital, people, and information around the world at speeds that were unimaginable before.” It also means that local systems and ways of doing are gradually being weeded out as we adopt “global standards” in many areas. As an example, we can look at the effects that global environmentalism has had on various regions of the world since the concept became popular in the 1970s with such slogans as “Only One Earth” and “Earth the Spaceship.” After the 1972 United Nation Conference on the Human Environment in Stockholm, international environmental NGOs began to assert a need to protect endangered wildlife and ecologies around the world. These movements have crossed national borders and have forced people around the world to adapt to environmental conditions. For example, whalers in Japan are being pressured to diminish or even abandon their way of living (even if the tradition is inherited from their ancestors) if it does not fit the needs of global environmentalism. With so many environmental issues surfacing every day, environmentalists have every reason to be concerned about the future of the Earth. At the 1992 United Nation Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED or the Rio Summit), wildlife protection was a top concern, and a convention agreement on Biological Diversity (CBD) was passed. Paradoxically, however, the biodiversity of conservation also requires the conservation of diversity of the cultures that exist within those ecosystems (Nettle and Romaine 2000; Dove, Sajise, and Doolittle 2005). This idea may be amplified in the sense that wildlife resources consumable as food should be evaluated from the viewpoints of various stakeholders, such as producers, distributive traders, and consumers who have their own customs and cultures. In this paper, I would like to focus on the issue of sea cucumber foodways in Asia and discuss several sea cucumber (Isostichopus fuscus) conservation problems, as well as the conservation of its foodways. Sea cucumber foodways refer to persons employing dried forms of sea cucumbers. The process takes at least a month for drying and one week for re-constitution for cooking. Presently, the use of dried sea cucumbers in cooking is concentrated within the Chinese food diaspora. This includes China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore, as well as Korea, Japan, and Chinese populations in Southeast Asia, United States, Canada, and Australia on the periphery. The use of dried sea cucumber in China began to spread only during the late Ming and early Qing dynasties between the end of the 16th century and the beginning of the 17th century. Since then, China imported dried products from neighboring countries and regions such as Japan, Korea and Southeast Asia and South Pacific Islands (Akamine 2007). Thus, historical development of sea cucumber foodways must be understood from a cross-border perspective. 47 Problems on Sea Cucmber Conservation The sea cucumber trade between China and its neighboring regions has a considerable history involving much change throughout its history. The first main change was the globalization of its production sites. Sea cucumbers nowadays are produced and exported to almost every point of the globe. For example, according to Hong Kong Import Statistics, Hong Kong, the international distribution hub for all kinds of dried marine products, imported 5,296 tons of dried sea cucumbers from 58 countries and territories in 2007. The second change is the mounting of international pressure on sea cucumber conservation. This is another side of globalization in the sense that the so-called “global citizens” are claiming that biodiversity is the common heritage of humankind and thus needs to be conserved. Below I will explain the background of how the sea cucumber issue has gained topicality among the conservationist in the world in terms of the conflict between environmentalists and sea cucumber fishermen in Galapagos, known as the “sea cucumber war” (Stutz 1995). During the 1990s, the sea cucumber crisis led to a related slogan representing the environmentalists’ concern “If not the Galapagos, then what global ecological treasure can we protect?”(Camhi 1995). Since sea cucumbers are coastal resources, it is in theory possible for local communities to manage these resources without any intervention from outsiders. I would like to consider further the significance of promoting resource management at the local level by presenting a case study of dried sea cucumber production in Hokkaido, the northernmost part of Japan, where the highest grade of dried spiky sea cucumber fetches over 100,000 yen per kilogram at retail shops in Hong Kong, and examine how the local people have managed their resources in such a way as to maintain their fishing industry. I conducted all the interviews at Rishiri Island, Hokkaido, and the photographs Cooked Stichopus japonicus at a restaurant it Guangzhou, China. are mine unless stated otherwise. 2. Background to CITES: Sea cucumber war The Sea Cucumber War, which seemed almost imprudent, was made known across the world in an article published by the National Audubon Society, an environmental organization based in the United States (Stutz 1995). It refers to a confrontation between environmentalists and sea cucumber fishermen in the Galapagos Islands, 48 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region the place where Charles Darwin conceived his theory of evolution and became the holy ground of ecological science. The environmentalists admitted that the Galapagos sea cucumber population was small, and its conservation was not necessarily an environmental issue. Rather, they were primarily concerned about the effects of sea cucumber fishing on the “holy” marine ecosystem of the Galapagos Islands (Jenkins and Mulliken 1999). Yet this exposé of sea cucumber exploitation in Galapagos led to heightened conservation efforts all over the world. In fact, since 2002 sea cucumbers have been at the center of debates at the CITES Convention (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora) where sustainable use encounters protection of wildlife. Isostichopus fuscus, a particular variety of spiky sea cucumbers that inhabits the coastal zone between Mexico and the northern part of Peru, began to be harvested in mainland Ecuador in 1988. But by 1991, the supply had become so exhausted that the fishermen had to move a thousand kilometers away from the continent to the Galapagos Islands to fish for I. fuscus. At the same time, yearly visitors to the islands topped 40,000 while the resident population rose to 10,000, thanks to an influx of Ecuadorians drawn by the promise of jobs in tourism. Considering that the population was just over 2,000 in 1960 when there was little tourism, one can imagine the tremendous changes to the environment in just thirty years. It was a foregone conclusion that outsiders would move in and fishermen would come in droves where there was money to be made (Bremner and Perez 2002). Moreover, the fishermen went ashore and cut down the mangroves for wood to cook, then sun-dry the sea cucumber they caught, thus destroying the habitat for the most endangered of Darwin’s finches (Camhi 1995). Ships with livestock and domestic animals anchored so close to protected islands that they introduced non-native species such as rats, ants, and cockroaches, which accelerated the deterioration of the original ecosystem (Powell and Gibbs 1995). While waiting Isostichopus fuscus at Glapagos. Photograph courtesy of Steve Purcell out the drying process, which takes several weeks, the fishermen brought some provisions from home, but it was far more efficient for them to get their protein from the islands. Even giant tortoises, the symbol of Galapagos, were consumed as food (Nicholls 2006). 49 Problems on Sea Cucmber Conservation It is my understanding that the environmentalists started the war. Their theory was that biodiversity would be destroyed if sea cucumber resources dried up. Therefore, the fishermen who were randomly destroying the islands’ ecosystem were not to be allowed on land. To capture giant tortoises (a prized symbol not only of the Galapagos Islands but also of the entire environmental conservation movement) for food was simply intolerable. Taking these stipulations into account, the president of Ecuador imposed a complete ban on sea cucumber fishing in the Galapagos in August of 1992. Let us, however, look at the issue from the perspective of the fishermen. Until the early 1980s, tourism was undeveloped and there was no major capital being pumped into the industry. Fishermen made decent money as guides and ferry drivers for researchers and off-the-beaten-path travelers from developed countries. But as the eco-tourism business started to gain attention, the crude small boats of the fishermen were being replaced with fancier ones and suddenly the fishermen found themselves out of work. Furthermore, by the end of 1980s, the harvest of lobsters, for which the tourists seemed to spare no amount of money, was dramatically decreasing (Stutz 1995, MacFarland and Cifuentes 1996). It was at just this point that the demand for I. fuscus surfaced. Since I. fuscus lived in shallow waters, all the fishermen had to do was walk along the rocks or dive just a little and they had an easy day’s work. It was no wonder they jumped at this new income opportunity. What is more, I. fuscus had distinct spikes, which fetched high prices in the market, especially in northern China. While many fishermen continued to harvest despite the ban, they teamed up with politicians from the Galapagos Islands and people in the sea cucumber industry to petition the Ecuadorian government to reopen sea cucumber fisheries. Consequently, beginning in October of 1994, the government gave permission to harvest 550,000 specimens during a threemonth experimental trial to survey resources. After just two months, however, the trial was cut off when it was discovered that an estimated one million sea cucumber had been collected (Shepherd et al. 2004). Outraged, the fishermen stormed the Charles Darwin Research Station on Santa Cruz Island and threatened to slaughter the giant tortoises known as the Lonely George that were the darlings of the conservationists (Camhi 1995; Powell and Gibbs 1995; Stone 1995; Stutz 1995; Verrall 1995). It was this protest against the government and environmentalists around the world that marked the beginning of the war over sea cucumbers. The “sea cucumber war” has become more complicated since CITES came into the picture after 2002. CITES is an international agreement between Governments, 50 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and its aim is to ensure that international trade in wildlife specimens does not threaten their survival. However, it seems that CITES is currently interested more in the protection of wildlife than the original goal of sustainable use of the wildlife. This is partly because the NGOs that diffuse animal rights and animal welfare interests lobby the delegates (who are mainly from developing countries) of the CoP (Conference of the Parties) for the ban in exchange for economic support. I dare not say that sea cucumber conservation is unnecessary. Rather I like to emphasize that the sudden CITES decision may damage the economic stability of coastal fishery cultures and villages worldwide. Since its enforcement, animals such as elephants, whales, great apes, and rhinos, have been subjects of protection under CITES. In the 1970s and 1980s, the idea of establishing protected areas and a ban on wildlife use were supported by many ecologists. However, there are many examples where, if the community cannot use the wildlife, they will also pay no attention to wildlife management, which in turn will lead to poaching. Out of this conflict, the idea of sustainable use of wildlife rather than a total ban seems gradually to be gaining strength (Hutton and Dickson 2000). Dried I. fuscus at a retail shop in Chinatown, New York. 3. Sea Cucumber Fishing in Rishiri Island, Japan: The Case of the Semposhi Fisheries Cooperative Association (SFCA) The first reference to sea cucumbers in the Semposhi Fisheries Cooperative Association (SFCA)’s business report after the World War II was in 1980. The amount of sales and sales prices of dried sea cucumbers were recorded for four years through 1983. In 1984, however, sales shifted to fresh sea cucumbers, because “drying sea cucumbers took too much effort for too little money.” As one fisherman explained, “we wake up at four and head out at five. We come back between one and two in the afternoon with our catch. If we process it, we’d have no time for sleep.” 51 Problems on Sea Cucmber Conservation Although it’s not exactly clear what triggered the start of sea cucumber fishing in 1980, the opportunity was indirectly presented through local government support for the transplant and replenishment of northern hard-spined sea urchin (Strongylocentrotus nudus) populations. In the early 1970s, the Rishiri Island’s Municipal Government launched a project of transplanting nona, or northern hardspined sea urchin living in deep waters to shallower waters. As part of the project, the government provided funding for dredge-net boats to catch sea urchins living at depths of 20 to 30 feet and transfer them to shallow-water coasts. One dredge net was made in Suttsu, in southwestern coastal Hokkaido, and was brought to Rishiri Island, where it was copied by local ironworkers. However, the dredge net did not retain the sea urchins well, and in fact it broke off their spines. Consequently, with each passing year, the shells of the sea urchins also got smaller and smaller. What the nets did manage to catch were more sea cucumbers than sea urchins. While the details of this project need further investigation, it is certain that sea cucumbers opened the door to dredge net fishing in Rishiri Island. The SFCA’s annual report of 1980 reflects the first time dried sea cucumber production was conducted on a trial basis after the sea urchin transfer project ended. At the same time, veteran fishermen within the community taught sea cucumber drying methods to young members of the SFCA. The drying method was something like this: First, the workers boiled a large iron pot filled with seawater, scrap iron, and sagebrush. Only iron pots could be used because stainless pots were not able to change the color of the sea cucumbers into shining black. After thirty minutes, the water turned dark and the iron scraps and sagebrush were removed. The sea cucumbers were then gutted and placed in the pot. After adding the iron scraps again, the sea cucumbers were simmered for about forty minutes and then smoked with sagebrush for approximately two hours. If the weather was bad, the smoking time was extended up to three hours. Moreover, if it rained in Semposhi, people would drive to a sunny area to dry their sea cucumbers. However, so much sagebrush was used in the Semposhi district that the supply was depleted. Despite successful catches, the fishermen could not make ends meet with dried sea cucumber. As a consequence, they switched to selling raw sea cucumber in 1984 and continue to do so today. Dredge net fishing began full operation in 1984 when sales turned to raw sea cucumber. The town of Rishiri provided financial support, and dredge nets were made to order by seven or eight fishermen at iron factories in Otaru. Presently, dredge nets are made locally in two factories on the island. In the SFCA case, it is apparent that sea cucumber fishing was established in Rishiri Island around 1985 and that the dredge netting of sea cucumbers boomed as a by-product of the northern sea urchin transport project. 52 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Stichopus japonicus fished around Soya. 4. Resource Management at the SFCA Dredge net fishing of sea cucumbers by the SFCA began in 1984, but it was not until 1988 that a sea cucumber unit was established within the SFCA. At this time, resource management was actively practiced and catches were limited to sea cucumbers weighing at least 80 grams. Drying Stichopus japonicus at Soya, Hokkaido. In 1989, the weight limit was raised from 80 to 100 grams and sea cucumbers less than 10 centimeters in length were to be thrown back to the sea. The next year, in 1990, the bar was again raised to 130 grams. In 1999, the SFCA implemented a selfregulatory 50-ton limit to its total catch in the interest of conserving resources. This generally acceptable number was based on market conditions and the calculation that each boat would be allowed 0.5 tons. Since 1984, the SFCA has engaged in the fresh sea cucumber trade, but it was long expected that the sea cucumbers would be shipped to mainland Hokkaido to be processed and dried for export. This is partly because there is almost no demand for fresh sea cucumber in Japan during the summer. (Domestic demand for fresh sea cucumber is limited only in winter around the new year.) In fact, the size and weight restrictions implemented by the SFCA were influenced by the fact that the sea cucumbers would ultimately be dried. If the sea cucumbers were too small, 53 Problems on Sea Cucmber Conservation buyers would bargain for cheaper prices. Although it could be sold as a fresh product because of its tender texture, small sea cucumbers were difficult to process and they fetched only low prices at market. These conditions led the SFCA to return not only small sea cucumbers, but also “anything damaged” to the sea. Beginning in 2002, each boat collected these small or damaged sea cucumbers and lined them up each day for return to the summer fishing grounds in the spring and alternatively to the spring fishing grounds in the summer. When the sea cucumber unit in SFCA first imposed the 80-gram weight limit in 1988, the aim was to conserve resources and also make a greater profit. But ever since the fishermen started trading fresh sea cucumbers, one of the major marine products processing plants in Hokkaido has submitted several complaints. At one point, they requested the SFCA to make shipments using barrels that were labeled with the name of the boat that made the catch. Although the SFCA made an effort to retain moisture and shipped at a ten percent premium, or ire-me, the buyers still complained about poor quality and demanded a higher premium. If the SFCA agreed, they knew that they would eventually face the same demands again. Therefore, instead of raising the premium, they negotiated with the buyers to resolve their complaints. For example, both sides have now agreed that water should not be put in barrels and that sea cucumbers should be divided up at sea and then checked again on land for size. One member of the sea cucumber unit boasted about nurturing the high quality Semposhi brand, explaining, “It’s not a matter of gains or losses. If you cheat, it comes back to you.” Undersized Stichopus japonicus sorted out for release back into the sea. Resource management by the sea cucumber unit was not limited just to size restrictions. In 2001, six members of the sea cucumber unit and the SFCA’s sales representative went to observe the sea cucumber business in Aomori Prefecture. However, the sea cucumber fishing waters in Aomori were unfortunately too shallow to be compared to Semposhi, where dredge nets were dragged at depths of 60 to 70 meters. Moreover, Aomori was focused on fresh food products and not on dried products, so they kept small, soft sea cucumbers and tossed the large ones back to sea. Still, the Semposhi fishermen were impressed that the town of Yokohama had standardized fishing equipment and regularly checked for violations. As a result of this visit, the Semposhi sea cucumber unit was also inspired to re-examine the 54 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region spawning period of sea cucumbers. Presently in Hokkaido, sea cucumber fishing is banned in the Soya Sea Area, where Rishiri is located, from May 1st to June 15th during what is believed to be the spawning period. However, some fishermen raised the possibility that in their area sea cucumbers were actually reproducing in July and August, leading to further investigation. These fishermen are currently still appealing to the Hokkaido Provincial Government to change the regulations related to fishing season dates. In response, informational meetings were held in two towns in 2005, but the Hokkaido government has been slow to act on the appeals. Fishermen who attended both meetings said, “the content was the same as the data from Sarufutsu, facing the Sea of Okhotsk,” and “the Sarufutsu [data] are exactly the same as the results from Semposhi [and that] anyone who fishes for sea cucumbers could tell you that.” The SFCA argued that they have been proactive about conserving resources. For example, when they learned that starfish were predators to sea cucumbers, they stopped throwing back the starfish that came up in their dredge nets. Previously, fishing boats had been unrestricted. But in 1999, the number of boats was limited to only ten, and at the same time the 50-ton limit on a total catch was implemented. Until that year, there were twelve boats operating, but one fisherman passed away and another retired. Presently, there are eleven dredge net fishing boats in SFCA. The eleventh boat was added in 2005 when the SFCA recommended a novice fisherman in his early 50s to the sea cucumber unit when the man demanded that he needed money to support his three children. The sea cucumber unit felt an obligation to support a fellow cooperative member, not to mention that the price of sea cucumbers was on the rise. During my fieldwork, one of the members of the SFCA lost a family member. Since three sea cucumber fishermen in the same area had to attend the funeral and were unable to fish even though conditions were calm and favourable, the entire sea cucumber unit took the day off. They explained, “We have this organization to work together; the 50-ton limit is in place so that everyone uses resources equally. Otherwise, everyone would just operate on their own.” 5. Conclusion The case study of SFCA illustrates how sea cucumber fishing and self-regulation in local community works. Although Rishiri Island is only one of many places in Japan where sea cucumbers can be harvested, it is known for its exceptional high quality even within the high quality market of Hokkaido. Its success can be attributed to the pride of local fishermen who have striven to meet the insistent demands of buyers, yet maintain a sustainable industry. 55 Problems on Sea Cucmber Conservation While the debate has been divided and further investigation of the issue is needed, another example of local self-management can be seen in the cooperative attitude between the SFCA and the sea cucumber unit regarding the issue of admitting new fishermen. It is an issue that is specific to sea cucumber dredge net fishing, as spoon-net fishing by small surfboats is open to all; for example, catch landings of sea cucumber by spoon-net fishing within the SFCA were 4 metric tons and 2.5 metric tons in 2006 and 2007 respectively. Fishing in Rishiri Island has tended to concentrate on coastal resources such as kelp and sea urchin; both have developed strong communal identities that have also been applied to sea cucumbers. Self-management by local communities via an adaptive, trial and error system, continues. It been made possible because the people of this area believe all coastal space belongs to the community, and they are thus conscious of the need to ward their own waters. It is difficult to compare the Japanese case with the Galapagos case, since they seem to share nothing in common. However, there is one thing to be sure: the Galapagos case is an unfortunate example of open-access fishing where no one takes spontaneous care of the resources. The Ecuador Government and environmentalists have been trying to exclude fishermen from the Galapagos waters but have not yet been successful. Though it may be a radical change of perspective, the Ecuador Government could follow the Hokkaido example and provide for its people a nationwide social welfare system that can secure livelihoods. Providing fishermen with certain authority and responsibility to manage their own resources would be a key, as the Japanese Fisheries law practices have proven. CITES should be called upon only if every effort at conservation is made and there is still a fear of exhausting resources. Rather than depending on sometimesarbitrary rules imposed by governments and organizations, local fishermen should tap into the power and knowledge that is inherent in their communities. 56 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References Akamine, Jun. 2007. Namako and Iriko: Historical overview on holothuria (sea cucumber) exploitation, management and trade in Japan. In Food and foodways in Asia: Resource, tradition and cooking, ed. Sidney Cheung and Tan Chee-Beng, 23-36. London: Routledge. Bremner, Jason and Jaime Perez. 2002. A case study of human migration and the sea cucumber crises in the Galapagos Islands. Ambio 31(4): 306-310. Camhi, Merry. 1995. Industrial fisheries threaten ecological integrity of the Galapagos Islands. Conservation Biology 9 (4): 715-719. Dove, Michael, Percy E. Sajise, and Amity A. Doolittle, eds. 2005. Conserving nature in culture: Case studies from Southeast Asia. Monograph 54. New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Southeast Asia Studies. Hutton, Jon and Barnabis Dickson, eds. 2000. Endangered species, threatened convention: The past, present and future of Cites, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora. London: Earthscan Publications, Ltd. Jenkins, M. and T. A. Mulliken. 1999. Evolution of exploitation in the Galapagos Islands, Ecuador’s sea cucumber trade. TRAFFIC International Bulletin 17 (3). (http://www.traffic.org/bulletin/archive/ january99/galapagos/index. html) MacFarland, Craig and Miguel Cifuentes. 1996. “Case study: Ecuador.” In Human population, biodiversity and protected areas: Science and policy issues, ed. Victoria Dompka, 135-188. Washington, DC: American Association for the Advancement of Science. Nettle, Daniel and Suzanne Romaine. 2000. Vanishing voices: the Extinction of the world’s languages. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Nicholls, Henry. 2006. Lonesome George: the Life and loves of a conservation icon. New York: Macmillan. Powell, Jeffrey R. and James P. Gibbs. 1995. A report from Galápagos. TREE 10 (9): 351-354. Shepherd, S.A., P. Martinez, M.V. Toral-Granda and G.J. Edgar. 2004. The Galapagos sea cucumber fishery: Management improves as stock decline. Environment Conservation 31(2): 102-110. Stone, Richard. 1995. Fishermen threaten Galápagos. Science 267 (5198): 611-612. Stutz, Bruce. 1995. The sea cucumber war. Audubon (May-June 1995): 16-18. Verrall, Maggie. 1995. Darwin’s islands under threat. Nature 373 (6514): 465. 57 Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 4 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico Hiroyuki Tani Copyright © 2010 by Hiroyuki Tani All rights reserved 58 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction Maize has long been the main basic food in Mexico, especially among the peasants and poorer segments of urban dwellers. The Mexican Revolution1, which was partially an uprising of peasants and rural workers seeking their land to farm, and successive governments which followed affirmed the campesinos (peasants) as one of the key actors in the country’s post-revolutionary society. Given the ideological importance of peasants and the needs of the urban workers for access to cheap food, post-revolutionary governments established a series of official institutions to distribute the staple at a considerably subsidized rate.2 On the other hand, the post-revolutionary governments utilized the product as a symbol of national identity among Mexicans and as an attempt to consolidate national integrity. But as the thirty years of “stabilized growth” came to an end in the 1970s, subsidizing maize became a heavy burden to the government, which aimed to “economize” Mexican society for the sake of more efficiency. This policy extended to the end of agrarian reform (1992) and to the free trade agreement (NAFTA) with the U.S. and Canada (1994).3 In recent years, instability in the world grain market changed the scene. While the maize trade within the North American continent had been totally liberalized when the transitional period was over in 2008, the Mexican government, now under a relatively conservative and entrepreneur-minded National Action Party (PAN), renewed its support for its domestic production, this time not as an ideological tool but as one of purely economic policy. This paper tries to make clear the economic and social effects this change in government policy has had on the Mexican people. In doing so the paper considers (a) the political and economic effects of the state-subsidized supply system, (b) the origin of the ideological use of maize, and (c) the processes of change in the political use of maize in recent years. 1. On the Mexican Revolution, see such basic historical works as: Womack (1969); Womack (1986); Meyer, Jean (1986); Knight (1990); Ulloa (2000); Meyer, Lorenzo (2000a); Meyer, Lorenzo (2000b) among others. 2. On the agrarian and agricultural policies under the post-revolutionary regime, see Reyes Osorio et al. (1974). 3 .There have been a number of excellent works on the new political tendencies carried out in 1990s. See, for example, Janvry, Gordillo and Sadoulet (1997); Cornelius and Myhre (1998) on the end of agrarian reform; Cameron and Tomlin (2000) on the process of NAFTA negotiations including that of agricultural trade. 59 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico 1. Food Policy in the Post-revolutionary Mexico4 First, we can point out the “guaranteed price (precio de garantía)” policy as the most important food policy in post-revolutionary (and pre-1982) Mexico. Under this policy, the federal government purchased the 12 principal grains from the producers at officially fixed prices as the buyer of last resort. The guaranteed price of maize was introduced in 1953 and existed for 46 years until it was finally abolished in 1999. This policy had different objectives and effects according to the ideological position of each administration (Solís Rosales 1990, 924). At first, the main objective was to support the peasants’ income to stimulate production and secure sufficient food supplies. This objective was also accomplished by preventing brokers from exploiting the peasants. On the other hand, when the federal government realized it needed to mitigate social tensions derived from inflation, especially in urban areas, the guaranteed price was set unchanged in nominal terms to keep the food price low in real terms for consumers. To apply the guaranteed price effectively, the federal government established an independent entity, the National Basic Food Company (Compañía Nacional de Subsistencias Populares: CONASUPO). This company purchased 23.1% of the national maize production sold in 1979 (Fox 1993, 89) and monopolized all external trade of the basic grains. It also possessed a huge distributive and retail network of basic consumer goods, and its primary goal was “to appear to further social justice in the area of food procurement and distribution and thereby to legitimate the postrevolutionary state” (Fox 1993, 34). In addition to this political support through official price controls, the federal government supplied irrigation systems, subsidized seeds and fertilizers, official loans at lower interest rates and several other incentives on behalf of the agricultural sector. But these policies basically favored large-scale land owners, who mainly produced commercial products in northern areas of the country.5 The peasants in southern Mexico who cultivated their small, rain-fed plots for self-sufficiency and who were basically an indigenous population, were practically alienated from these policies for modernizing agriculture. 4. Ochoa (2000) deals with this topic in broader economic and social contexts. 5. Northern and northwestern parts of Mexico were sparsely populated until the end of 19th century when mainly U.S. owned enterprises occupied and developed the lands to sell them to the investors. Endowed with vast and fertile lands and easy access to U.S. markets through railroads constructed (also) by U.S. capital, various kinds of commercial crops like cotton and tomatoes were produced in this area. Since the climate is arid, efficient agricultural production was impossible, and this fact prompted the post-revolutionary governments to provide massive irrigation facilities in the area. See Hewitt de Alcántara (1976). 60 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region This tendency changed in 1980 when the federal government, which at that time was experiencing a bonanza derived from higher oil prices, launched a new integrated rural development program called the Mexican Food System (Sistema Alimentario Mexicano: SAM). Since Mexico had been importing several millions of tons of basic grains yearly since the 1970s, the government decided to stimulate traditional agriculture to gain basic food production growth and achieve self-sufficiency in basic grains. The program also focused on the nutritional improvement of rural dwellers, counting on a variety of campaigns.6 2. Background of the Food Policies: Ideological Use of Maize in the Post-revolutionary Regime What was the background of these food policies? It has its beginnings with the Mexican Revolution, which was masterminded by Francisco I. Madero in 1910 and who expelled the dictator, Porfirio Díaz, in the following year. This revolution was not a monolithic one in that it had, rather, a multifaceted character. One of its essential objectives was the realization of a democratic political system, as expressed in the Madero’s slogan, “Effective Suffrage and No Re-election.” But in reality, it was not merely an anti-dictatorship movement but a nationalist revolution against foreign economic powers claiming that all land, water, and underground natural resources were the “Mexican Nation’s property,” as stipulated in Article 27 of the Constitution of 1917.7 But along with these aspects, the Mexican Revolution was well symbolized by peasant upheavals, as represented by several notable murals by Mexican artists in the Figure 1 Photo by Hiroyuki Tani early revolutionary period (Figure 1). 6. For more details on SAM, see Luiselli (1982). 7. Full text of the original constitution and all the amendments implemented since then can be downloaded from the web page, “Leyes federales de México,” provided by Mexican Chamber of Deputies. 61 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico The campesino rebellion, headed by Emiliano Zapata with its “Land and Liberty” banner, led to major agrarian reform also stipulated in Article 27 of the constitution. Agrarian reform not only appealed to the rural society as a fruit of the revolution, but also aroused nationalistic sentiments of the Mexican people in general, because it expropriated not a few latifundios (large estates) owned by foreign (mostly American) companies and landholders. It should also be added that at the moment the Revolution erupted, more than 70 percent of the Mexican population dwelled in rural areas (INEGI 1994, 42), a fact that gave considerable legitimacy to agrarian reform as a national project. Under the post-revolutionary regime, Mexican nationalism was based on an ideology which stated that “Mexicans are mestizo people.” Instead of the 19th-century form of liberalism, in which Europeanization of the country had been the objective, the post-revolutionary regime stipulated the mestizo people as the “national race” (Lomnitz, 2001, 52). Figure 2 Photo by Hiroyuki Tani A historical monument constructed in the Plaza of the Three Cultures (Plaza de las Tres Culturas),8 located in Tlatelolco, the northern part of Mexico City, eloquently tells the essence of this ideology (Figure 2). It says: On 13th August, 1521, heroically defended by Cuauhtémoc Tlatelolco fell into the hands of Hernán Cortés. It was neither triumph nor defeat. It was the painful birth of the mestizo people, that is today’s Mexico. In this manner, the contemporary Mexicans (mestizos) were conceived to form a “cosmic race,”9 a people full of potential, with the same inherited merits of all conventional races in the world (Europeans, Native Americans, Africans and Asians) and incarnated those merits into a body. It is important to note that the mestizos were supposed to have European (or 8. This plaza is dedicated practically to the mestizo race. The “three cultures” refer to indigenous, Spanish, and mestizo, represented by pre-Columbian ruins, a colonial catholic church, and apartment houses for public laborers constructed under the post-revolutionary regime, respectively. 9. “Cosmic race (raza cósmica)” is a concept presented by a Mexican educator and statesman José Vasconcelos in his book with the same title published in 1925. For details see Vasconcelos (1958). 62 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Spanish) fathers and indigenous mothers (Lomnitz, 2001, 53), as was, for the most part, the case. It might be natural that the image of the kitchen and of the daily meal should be strongly influenced by an indigenous culture. This implicit cultural interpretation put maize at the center as the means by which the post-revolutionary regime could consolidate the Mexican identity within its population. National integrity was also related to the fact that maize had long been the most important and basic food for the majority of Mexicans, as the catalogue of the Inaugural Exposition of National Museum of Popular Cultures10 makes clear: “Maize represents almost half of the total volume of foods consumed in Mexico every year and supplies the Mexican people almost half of the required calories. This share is much bigger for the population with lower income, especially the peasants” (Museo Nacional de Culturas Populares 1982, 7). As we have seen, the importance of maize as a basic food justified governmental support of maize production and distribution, as described in the first section of this paper. It is interesting to point out that maize was also an important part of the social and ideological infrastructure in the building of a “Mexican Nation.” But for these political uses of maize, a budgetary endorsement was indispensable. Fortunately the federal government could carry out these supports thanks to Mexico’s long-sustained economic growth from the 1950s to the 1970s, a period that was formally recognized as “Stabilized growth,” and in journalistic terms was called the “Mexican miracle.” But when this long-lived economic expansion came to an end, food policy, as well, began to change and in turn the concept of maize in Mexico’s political and social contexts would also begin to change. 3. Food Policy Reforms under the Neo-liberal Governments 1982 Debt crisis and the neo-liberal reforms in the agricultural sector In 1982 Mexico stopped its external debt repayment for a number of reasons, but this is not the focus of the paper. Here, it only needs to be pointed out that a period of austerity had become the rule in economic policies, and so-called “neo-liberal reforms” were being pursued vigorously. In this process, agricultural and food policies also faced great changes. Article 27 of the constitution, which had inaugurated agrarian reform, was amended in 1992, after which the land redistribution policy was formally abolished. The justification of this policy change was based on the need to secure the property rights of landholders, 10. The museum was opened in 1982 at Coyoacán, the southern part of Mexico City. It is important to point out that its first exposition was dedicated to maize under the title, “El maíz: fundamento de la cultura popular mexicana (Maize: foundation of Mexican popular culture).” 63 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico who felt threatened by the possibility that the government might expropriate their lands. Under such circumstances, landholders would never invest needed capital in their land. Once the land titles were declared irrevocable, agricultural investment would be stimulated and productivity in the rural sector would rise. It was also believed that problem of inefficiency was due to a lack of international competition in the agricultural sector (and the Mexican economy in general). Therefore the country began a radical trade liberalization process in July, 1985 and entered GATT in 1986. In 1990, Mexico initiated negotiations to sign a free trade agreement with the U.S. and Canada, which would be realized four years later as the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). It is true that this treaty was intended to lift all of the barriers to free movement of goods and services between both sides of the borders. But also true was that the three member countries would be permitted to hold as exceptions, certain “sensitive” products under their own protection. Within this framework, Mexico was allowed to set a particularly long grace period for holding off the free imports of U.S. maize. In the meantime, the country kept a prohibitive tariff barrier against maize imports from the U.S., which covered a 14-year period, until it was totally freed on January 1, 2008. The quota for duty-free maize, however, was set and would be increased cumulatively during this grace period. While the maize trade was to be liberalized, domestic maize distribution was privatized, and the guaranteed price policy mentioned earlier was lifted for the 10 products, with the exception of maize and beans (frijoles) in 1989. The official price for maize was raised in 1990 probably to mitigate the sentiments among Mexicans who were against the signing of the NAFTA agreement. This policy temporally stimulated maize production, especially within the modern agricultural sector in the northern part of Mexico. But finally, in 1999, the guaranteed price policy for maize was abolished and the National Basic Food Company was closed. Henceforth, the distribution of maize, both domestically and internationally, was to be run totally by private businesses.11 New trends in policies to support maize production and distribution The first of the new policies, entitled “Procampo,” was introduced in 1993 and was a direct income support program for grain growers. This program provides 1,160 pesos annually (about 85 U.S. dollars at the current exchange rate) per hectare directly to each producer. Since it was originally planned to be in effect until 2007,12 which corresponded to the end of the grace period for maize imports, it can be surmised that 11. On this point, see Appendini (2001). 12. The program was later extended and is still in effect as of 2009. 64 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region this program was intended to be a complementary policy to NAFTA. The government urged the grain growers who received the subsidy to (a) raise productivity to the point that they could compete with foreign (i.e., the U.S.) grain producers, (b) prepare to switch to the production of crops which would give Mexico a comparative advantage, such as vegetables and/or fruits, or (c) prepare to leave the agricultural sector (Tani, 1995). This policy coincided with the recent world-wide tendency, whereby subsidies for the agricultural sector should be provided directly as part of the beneficiaries’ income without distorting relative prices of the products. Besides this general policy towards the production of grains, there are a few more policies of a specific nature, but before getting into that, we should point out that maize is not a single commodity, but a commodity of several varieties that should be discerned.13 The most important varieties in the context of this paper are “white maize” and “yellow maize.” White maize is the variety that the Mexican people have traditionally consumed as the basic element of their diet, for example, in the form of tortillas. Yellow maize is mainly for animal feed and industrial use, and more than 90% of maize production in the U.S. is this type. It might be important to point out that trade statistics in Mexico and the U.S. began to distinguish these two types of maize only after NAFTA had come into effect in 1994. That is to say, that the discussion the Mexicans had on whether maize importation should be liberalized or not while negotiating toward NAFTA was too simplistic. The support policies for white maize have become limited to those concerning the distribution process. One element is the policy for transportation support, which is carried out by the agricultural ministry, and the other is for the modernization of the production of tortillerías, or small-scale tortilla workshops at the street corners, carried out by the Ministry of Economy. These supports are in place because while the domestic supply of white maize is sufficient at the national level, there can often be shortages locally, a problem that is partly due to the country’s inland transportation and distribution system. As for the second policy, it must be pointed out that tortilla prices are politically and socially very sensitive because the price of white maize can fluctuate according to market forces. Consequently, tortilla shop owners can frequently suffer because of pressures between distributors and the final consumer. One important way to overcome this problem is for the shop owners to modernize their equipment to raise productivity and thereby absorb the cost.14 13. On various varieties of maize, see Baker (1978, 75-77), where “white maize” is classified as “flour corn.” The “yellow maize,” as called here, consists mainly of the variety called “dent corn” in the same book, though this fact is not made explicitly clear. 14. This policy could also correspond to the big rise in tortilla prices in 2006-2007. 65 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico Support for yellow maize contract farming15 The policy for yellow maize is more complex. Practically speaking, this is an import substitution policy, not precipitated by nationalism but this time by purely economic factors. As mentioned above, a duty-free quota was stipulated for the 14-years grace period of NAFTA. The quota was initially set at 2.5 million tons for the first year (1994) and would be increased cumulatively at the rate of 3% per year. This means that the U.S. could export 2,813,772 tons of maize without paying any tariff to Mexico in 1998 (USDA). In reality, however, Mexico has been importing U.S. maize free of duties at a quantity far beyond this limit. This is because the sectors using yellow maize as their raw materials need cheap inputs to be able to compete with their U.S. counterparts. For this purpose, the federal government set up an additional duty-free quota for those industrialists on condition that 25% of their inputs would be purchased from domestic producers. To secure the domestic supply, the Federal Income Law, which provided the tariff exemption, also stipulated that the Ministry of Agriculture mediate contracts between buyers and producers of yellow maize. In this “Agriculture by Contract (Agricultura por contrato)” program, a “target income” is set for the producer, which functions practically as a “guaranteed price” for the producer. The producer and the buyer sign the contract before the producer sows the seeds. The seeds satisfying the needs of the buyers are, along with the proper technology package, supplied by the ministry. The contracted price of the maize is called “indifferent price.” This is set as the sum of an international price at the Chicago Board of Trade and the “Standard Basis at Consumer Zone,” which is comprised of the exchange rate and transportation and customs costs. We can say that this represents a “shadow price” of the maize, because it is equal to the price the buyer would pay if the maize were imported from the U.S. If the “indifferent price” is below the “target income” level, the federal government compensates the producer for the difference. Also essential to note is why this import substitution process is carried out. The main aim of the NAFTA was to specialize in those products, processes and industries by which Mexico had (or could have had) a comparative advantage. In this context, maize production had to be abandoned though it might be needed during the quite 15. The description of this program is based on the Federal Income Law (Ley de Ingresos de la Federación), which can be accessed in the web page “Leyes federales de México” mentioned above. The regulatory rules of the Ministry of Agriculture downloadable from its web page. 66 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region long transitional period. But now, many elements—which were not considered when the NAFTA negotiations were in progress—have appeared. In those days, it was implicitly understood that the maize was for human consumption, but in fact it has been revealed to be more important in terms of industrial input. One reason was that as the Mexican economy started to recover and as average income grew, people began to consume more meat, which ultimately required the production of more yellow maize (instead of white maize for tortillas). This tendency is not only confined to Mexico. As the world’s oil prices soared, thus stimulating the production of bio-ethanol in the U.S., the price of maize also increased. This consequential instability of world commodity prices will likely lead to difficulties in importing U.S. maize,16 in which case Mexico will have to bid for U.S. maize at higher prices. This will in turn negatively impact the Mexican people, who consume maize directly as a food product, as well as Mexican industries that need cheap U.S. maize as the basic ingredients for other products. But if countries other than Mexico bid it at the prices even higher, this will prohibit Mexico from importing the maize. We can now conclude that the import substitution process observed in recent years is completely different from those of the pre-1982 era and has been induced by purely economic reasons. Concluding Remarks: Maize as a “Politically Neutral” Plant As we have seen, maize, once proclaimed a national symbol, has undergone a great change in its political meanings. It had originally been an important political resource for the Mexican post-revolutionary governments in gaining its people’s confidence and for establishing credibility for the regime’s legitimacy. It was necessary for the government to support maize production, distribution and consumption because Mexico was the cradle of maize, and the Mexicans themselves were conceived to be “made from maize.” But these supports could not be continued after the external debt crisis had broken out in 1982, which was followed by the “lost decade.” Under these new circumstances, the Mexican government could no longer afford the costly policies. Even the decision makers were no longer eager to continue the supports, because, for them maize was little more than an item of trade. Now maize has turned out to be a “politically neutral” plant.17 There is an interesting cultural representation of maize in the recently remodeled National Anthropology Museum in Mexico City. Figure 3 shows a panel in the room dedicated to the dawn of civilization in the region that is now Mexico. 16. On bio-ethanol and maize production in Mexico, see also Aguilar Gómez (2008). 17. It is also important to point out that there have been several movements against this new economic conception of maize among researchers and (especially left-wing) politicians. See Esteva and Marielle (2003). 67 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico Referring to the origins of maize, it says, “Maize is not the oldest domesticated plant, nor is Mexico the only center of its domestication in America.” In short, maize is no longer the source of Mexico’s “national pride.” This statement is surely scientifically prudent and correct. But it is politically significant that maize is now represented in these terms in an official space such as a national museum. Aside from the fact that maize imports from the U.S. have greatly increased, this change in the way the Mexican government conceives maize might be one of the single largest effects of NAFTA on this grain, which was once consecrated as Mexico’s national symbol. Figure 3 Photo by Hiroyuki Tani 68 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References References in European languages Aguilar Gómez, Javier de J. 2008. México: maíz para tortillas y maíz para etanol. Comercio Exterior 58, 12: 867-875. Appendini, Kirsten. 2001. De la milpa a los tortibonos: La restructuración de la política alimentaria en México. 2ª ed. México: El Colegio de México. Baker, Herbert G. 1978. Plants and Civilization, 3rd ed. Belmont: Wadsworth. Cameron, Maxwell A., and Brian W. Tomlin. 2000. The Making of NAFTA: How the Deal Was Done. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press. Cornelius, Wayne A., and David Myhre, eds. 1998. The Transformation of Rural Mexico: Reforming the Ejido Sector. La Jolla: Center for U.S.-Mexican Studies, University of California, San Diego. Esteva, Gustavo and Catherine Marielle, eds. 2003. Sin maíz no hay país. México: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes; Museo Nacional de Culturas Populares. Fox, Jonathan. 1993. The Politics of Food in Mexico: State Power and Social Mobilization. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press. Hewitt de Alcántara, Cynthia. 1976. Modernizing Mexican Agriculture: Socioeconomic Implications of Technological Change 1940-1970. Geneva: United Nations Research Institute for Social Development. Instituto Nacional de Estadística, Geografía e Informática (INEGI). 1994. Estadísticas Históricas de México, Tomo I. Aguascalientes: INEGI. Janvry, Alain de, Gustavo Gordillo, and Elisabeth Sadoulet. 1997. Mexico’s Second Agrarian Reform: Household and Community Responses. La Jolla: Center for U.S.-Mexican Studies, University of California, San Diego. Juárez López, José Luis. 2008. Nacionalismo culinario: La cocina mexicana en el siglo XX. México: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes. Knight, Alan. 1990. Mexico, c. 1930-46. In Leslie Bethel ed. Cambridge History of Latin America, Vol. 7. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lomnitz, Claudio. 2001. Deep Mexico, Silent Mexico: An Anthropology of Nationalism. Minneapolis and London: University of Minnesota Press. Luiselli, Cassio. 1982. The Sistema Alimentario Mexicano (SAM): Elements of a Program of Accelerated Production of Basic Foodstuffs in Mexico. La Jolla: Center for U.S.-Mexican Studies, University of California, San Diego. Meyer, Jean. 1986. Mexico: Revolution and Reconstruction in the 1920s. In Leslie Bethel ed. Cambridge History of Latin America, Vol. 5. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Meyer, Lorenzo. 2000a. La institucionalización del nuevo régimen. In Historia general de México, Versión 2000. México: Centro de Estudios Históricos, El Colegio de México. _________. 2000b. De la estabilidad al cambio. In Historia general de México, Versión 2000. México: Centro de Estudios Históricos, El Colegio de México. Museo Nacional de Culturas Populares. 1982. El maíz. México: Museo Nacional de Culturas Populares. Ochoa, Enrique C. 2000. Feeding Mexico: The Political Uses of Food since 1910. Wilmington: Scholarly Resources. Reyes Osorio, Sergio et al. 1974. Estructura agraria y desarrollo agrícola en México. México: Fondo de Cultura Económica. Solís Rosales, Ricardo. 1990. Precios de garantía y política agraria: Un análisis de largo plazo. Comercio Exterior 40, 10: 923-937. Ulloa, Berta. 2000. La lucha armada (1911-1920). In Historia general de México, Versión 2000. México: Centro de Estudios Históricos, El Colegio de México. 69 From National Symbol to Economic Goods: A Brief History of Maize Consumption in Post-revolutionary Mexico Vasconcelos, José. 1958. La raza cósmica. In Obras completas, Tomo II. México: Libreros Mexicanos Unidos. Womack, John, Jr. 1969. Zapata and Mexican Revolution. New York: Vintage Books. _________. 1986. The Mexican Revolution, 1910-1920. In Leslie Bethel ed. Cambridge History of Latin America, Vol. 5. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. References in Japanese 1995. 「サリーナス政権の農業政策」『ラテンアメリカ・レポート』Vol.12, No.2, 31-40頁 (Agricultural Policies of Salinas Administration. Latin America Report, 12, 2: 31-40）. 谷洋之(Tani, Hiroyuki). _________ . 2008. 「NAFTAを逆手に取る：メキシコ・ハリスコ州におけるトウモロコシ・トマト生産の事例から」谷洋之／リンダ・グローブ（編）『トランスナショナル・ネットワークの生成と変容：生産・流通・消費』上智大学出版（Turning ‘NAFTA-perils’ into Business: Case Studies of Maize and Tomato Productions in Jalisco State, Mexico. In Transnational Networks: Production, Marketing and Consumption, eds. Hiroyuki Tani and Linda Grove, Tokyo: Sophia University Press）. Internet Sources Mexican Ministry of Agriculture (Secretaría de Agricultura, Ganadería, Desarrollo Rural, Pesca y Alimentación). http://www.sagarpa.gob.mx/ Mexican Federal Laws (Leyes federales de México, Cámara de Diputados). http://www.diputados.gob. mx/LeyesBiblio/index.htm United States Department of Agriculture. http://www.fas.usda.gov/ 70 Part 1: Mobile Foods Chapter 5 “Here’s Looking at You:” Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Patricia Yarrow Copyright © 2010 by Patricia Yarrow All rights reserved 71 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction The objective of this paper is to explore issues and trends in the globalization of Japanese saké, primarily artisan premium saké. I examine Japan’s saké breweries as they exist as local and regional entities, neatly enclosed by Japan’s mountains and shores, and also in terms of the portability of Japanese identity markers in the world market. Important issues include language barriers and cultural coding that hinder communication between brewers and foreign consumers. While the globalization of Japanese saké is influenced by declining market share within Japan, saké has found an unexpected ally: the positive reception on foreign shores due to a confluence of saké enthusiasts and recent trends in international cuisine. The dramatic decline of saké within Japan seems unlikely to reverse; but this fall from dominance is somewhat offset by risk-taking brewers and visionary saké enthusiasts outside Japan. Their strategies may be enough to sustain the remaining artisan saké brewers to emerge as stronger, more interconnected and promising producers on a global scale. Methodology The developing saké market outside of Japan has not been explored in a comprehensive way. This paper presents my initial foray into forming an overall picture of the globalization of Japanese saké. I undertook an extensive survey of saké websites in Japanese and English, for marketing strategies and export information. The books about saké in English provided further information about the industry and about saké labels. Due to time and resource constraints, a more thorough exploration of the academic theories and arguments has to wait for the follow-up paper to this research. Issues of identity projection and perception, and the trend for the local products to sell more effectively abroad deserve greater attention and articulation. In the following, I refer to the makers of saké (kurabito) as “brewers” to indicate all persons concerned with the saké making enterprise. The physical locations for making saké (shuzô) I refer to as a “brewery.” I have aligned my narrative beginning with the local breweries. Shared characteristics, activities, and interests connect the local breweries to a wider regionality and to the consumers who are re-imagining saké beyond regional and national boundaries. I used the labels found on the bottles to illustrate my point. Unless noted, the labels and illustrations are from my own archives. 72 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally The sale brewery (shuzô) on the label. Kusubi Shuzô, Niigata Prefecture History of Saké Nearly 7,000 years ago in China, saké was food. Far from the clear, flowing liquid of today, saké resembled slightly alcoholic oatmeal. However, the basic ingredients remain the same today: local water, rice and mold to ferment the rice into an alcoholic mash that is pressed into drinkable saké and edible lees. Today, various breweries still use local water and particular strains of rice. Saké remains inextricably bound to food, from accompanying a simple repast to an exquisite cuisine. This connection to everyday living and ceremony entwines saké with nearly every element of Japanese identity, starting with the earliest mythologies. Artists of every form, authors, weavers, potters, and painters, depicted elements of saké. Artistic labels on the bottles make constant reference to these connections and reinforce the tradition in the Japanese public conscience. Re-imaging Heian moods—a visual reference to Genji Monogatari and over a thousand years of gracious saké drinking. Yamachu Honke Shuzô, Aichi Prefecture Saké breweries were rife throughout Japan until 1698, when the Kamakura Shogunate forbade home brewing and made it a highly regulated and extremely profitable revenue source for the government. Taxes, in fact, were paid in the form of rice collected in warehouses. Large amounts were then converted into saké, which had the advantage of not spoiling easily or attracting pests. Moreover, it was easy to store and ship to markets. 73 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Until the mid-20th century, brewers made saké by hand in wooden casks using techniques developed over the centuries. Today, the brewing of saké is a combination of technical science and art, whereby stainless steel tanks and standardized mold (koji starter mold) eliminate much of the guesswork in the brewing process and allow for computer-controlled brewing of vast amounts of saké. This control also allows smaller saké operations to create saké of greater delicacy and artistry. Quality artisan saké is leading the saké boom and also finding new food pairings beyond usual Japanese delicacies in cross-cultural cuisine. Monetary theme: gold literally pouring into giant coffers. Mercantile pursuits supported by Ebisu and Daikokuten, the mythological spirits (kamisama) in charge of prosperity. “Masu Masu Fuku Fuku” (Many Measures of Money), Fukui Prefecture The following table briefly follows the development of saké from earliest times to the present and includes literary references, the business itself, brewery innovations, and the events that have contributed to the globalization of saké. Table 1. Saké history and globalization highlights Date Era Event 4800 B.C. Pre-history Saké-making tools found in Yangtze River Valley, China 300 B.C. Jomon Rice cultivation begins in Japan 689 Yamato Imperial Palace established brewing department 712 Nara Kojiki-Izumo myth of dragons defeated by barrels of saké 720 Nara Nihonshiki-Amanotamu “saké” made from rice 967 Heian Engi-Shiki records courtly saké making 1252 Kamakura 1574 Momoyama Rice polishing process begins 1598 Momoyama Saké brands established with casket cooperage technology 1826 Edo Daimon Shuzô established in Katano, Osaka Shogunate prohibits unlicensed saké selling Kamakura breweries closed 74 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally 1885 Meiji Saké first exported to Hawaii 1904 Meiji National Research Institute of Brewing established in Tokyo 1908 Meiji 1909 Meiji Glass bottles first produced at Gekkeikan 1931 Showa First full-fledged bottling plant begins at Gekkeikan 1954 Showa Brewery saké master toji Takao Nihei invents stainless steel fermentation tanks and lactic acid starters at Honolulu Japanese Saké Brewery. 1961 Showa Year-round production at Gekkeikan begins 1986 Showa Koukusai Saké Kai (International Saké Association) established in Honolulu, Hawaii 1988 Showa John Gauntner and Philip Harper independently arrive in Japan 1989 Showa 1990 Heisei 1st “Joy of Saké” tasting event in Hawaii 1992 Heisei Hakushika opens brewery in Golden, Colorado 2000 Heisei Hakushika Brewery in Golden, Colorado, closes 2001 Heisei First “Joy of Saké” event in Honolulu 2003 Heisei Beau Timken opens “True Saké” store in San Francisco, California 2005 Heisei Hakutsuru Saké of America opens brewery in Los Angeles, California 2008 Heisei Japan Saké Brewers Association: 450 breweries export from Japan 2009 Heisei Daimon Saké Brewery begins a one-week series of “saké apprenticeships” for worldwide saké enthusiasts Honolulu Japanese Saké Brewery Company established in Hawaii Honolulu Saké and Ice opens brewery in Hawaii Gekkeikan USA opens brewery in Folsom, California Honolulu Saké and Ice closes in Hawaii Sources: Gauntner, Harper, Kikusui, Koda, Kondo, Nakama-Mitsunaga, Nelson, and Timken. Main Issues The points of contention for the production of saké fall into local, regional, and global scales. While these issues are not simply confined to these three areas, I have placed them where they seem to hold greatest significance. 75 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Local issues 1. The Japanese public’s perception of sake The perception that saké is “an old man’s drink” remains from the post-World War II times of food shortages when desperate brewers added ethyl alcohol to common saké. As a consequence, younger Japanese tend to think of saké as the drink of their “unfashionable” fathers. As Harper said in a Los Angeles Times article by Glionna: Saké ads here don’t have any young people. They have older kimono-clad women offering to pour you saké. My hope is that as saké takes off overseas, it will have a boomerang effect. (Glionna 2009) Ironically, as Japanese begin to notice the interest in saké among foreigners, their own interest in this national beverage may revive. 2. Aging saké masters and staff In Japan, saké breweries continue to close down, as there is no one to replace the aged workers, or the toji, the skilled man or occasionally woman who guides the entire brewing process and determines the ultimate result. The average master brewer is aged 64 (Glionna 2009). The breweries need younger workers as toji and staff. Regional issues 3. Loss of market share in Japan In Japan, saké once accounted for 50% of the rice production and completely dominated the market for alcoholic beverage. Today, this is neither true nor is it likely that such times will return. According to Allison, “To be Japanese is to eat Japanese food” (2000). Is it not also to drink saké? Since the 1970’s, saké relinquished its market command. It has lost favor among the Japanese in general, who are imbibing Japanese shochu liquor or other “western” drinks, now made as much in Japan as in Germany, France, Australia, or Chile. Yet, when presented outside of Japan, global viewers regard saké as quintessentially Japanese. Ironically, “Japanese are drinking only a third of the saké they were 30 years ago” (Osheltree 2009), while sales outside of Japan are experiencing a “saké boom.” 76 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Table 2. Saké breweries registered in Japan Year Era Breweries 1698 Edo 27,000 1926 Taisho 10,000 1936 Showa 8,000 1942 Showa 3,000 1970 Showa 3,870 1987 Showa 3,500 2007 Heisei 1,875 Source: Gauntner, Harper, Kikusui, Koda, Kondo, Nakama-Mitsunaga, Nelson, and Timken The number of individual saké breweries shown in Table 2 makes clear the dramatic decline in saké production. Today only twenty or so breweries produce large amounts in computer-controlled, year-round factories (Gauntner), while the rest are relatively small operations. The downward spiral continues—how can this tendency be stopped? Globalization issues While many breweries have vanished, those remaining are at a three-way crossroads in the sense that they (1) can remain as they are while depending upon local sales, (2) seek larger markets within Japan, or (3) enter into the export market. 4. Exporting saké There are organizations in place to facilitate this third choice, but it is still a high-risk venture. Those breweries that venture into exporting must contend with international business practices and foreign perceptions. 5. Inappropriate import classifications Restrictions on saké imports from Japan are far from uniform. For instance, in the U.S., restrictions vary state-by-state, and in Canada each province governs the taxes and classifications of imported alcohols. Moreover, saké in the 14-16% alcohol content range is often classified together with distilled drinks in the 40-80% range (Matsuoka 2009). 77 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region 6. Labels with language barriers Japanese characters and syllabaries (kanji and kana) dominate Japanese bottle labels, websites, and other forms of publicity. The question thus arises; to what extent should printed information be localized to the language of the country? An illustrative story may make the point: Two people, a Hollander and a Japanese, interested in buying an alcoholic beverage walked into a local liquor shop (sakaya). The Hollander ambled to the Japanese saké area and the Japanese man strolls through the French wines. They each looked around and shrugged their shoulders with a slightly perturbed air of resignation. The westerner said, “I don’t give a hoot about labels because I can’t read them anyway,” and the Japanese man said, “Well, I can’t read the labels on French wine. High price equals high quality, I hope. That’s how I choose” (Personal informants, January 2009). Both gentlemen have the same problem. They cannot read the labels, so they make their choice based on other factors than the product information presented on the label. The labels on Japanese saké have generally followed the same format: Japanese characters on Japanese paper. For those who are not Japanese and have no knowledge of kanji characters, then, all saké bottles look the same (Sato 2009, 16-17). Within Japan, the Japan Saké Brewers Association has standardized label size and content. Hence the labels tend to hold steadfastly to their Japanese message, and label creators have not yet established a consensus for the role of English on their designs. Also, in Japan, the back label often features a short passage relating the saké to some aspect of the main label, providing a charming background story. However, translations into English for export are notably rare. 7. Perception of saké outside Japan An essential question is how to present Japanese saké to a world of non-Japanese speaking strangers. Large breweries’ export products usually contain ethyl alcohol and other additives, which are not legally required to be declared on the label itself. Consequently, in the global market, saké has not been able (until recently) to earn a reputation as a refined artisan drink. In addition to the language barriers, the cultural references on the labels can be unintelligible or misleading to non-Japanese readers. If written Japanese baffles the viewer, might he or she be able to decipher the cultural referents? For instance, how is the viewer to know that the gold label represents a new year’s release with 78 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally tiny gold flakes in the saké for longevity, or a red bag is a new year’s icon of good luck and perhaps cash. Such images and artistry that might appeal to the Japanese consumer could have a completely different reception with the foreign consumer. The uniqueness of saké making process and the cultural richness of the saké brewery may not be understood. How much of the cultural conversation is translatable, or transferable abroad? Bags of good fortune: The gold label is a new year’s release with tiny gold flakes in the saké for longevity. The red bag is a new year’s icon of good luck and perhaps cash. Left: Tanzan (Red Mountain) Shuzô, Kameoka, Kyoto Prefecture Right: Kinoshita Shuzô, Kyoto Local Saké, Local Food The geography of Japan generates defined places; that is, localities are often physically constrained by rugged mountains and open seas. The islands of Japan stretch from the north to the south through significant changes in temperature zones, resulting in an endless variety of local cuisine and saké made from local waters. Fresh fish from coastal areas served as sashimi differs from the way fish is served in inland areas where landlocked people preserved fish in miso or wrapped it in bamboo leaves. Saké labels reinforce images of place. Oogon-i (Well of Gold) Shuzô, Kanagawa Prefecture Japan is a land rich in water, and it is this fundamental ingredient that determines the flavor of saké. Amanoto’s label (top left, next page) makes this clear in English as the artist’s brush spells out the primordial relationship between land 79 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and water. The green kappa (a frog-like folktale figure) in Yonetsuru’s label (top right, next page) is a Japanese mythical creature of the rivers and streams closely associated with saké. Advertising by Kizakura brewery has richly portrayed the kappa family over many decades. The kappa folktale represents the inherent relationship between water and the brewing of saké. Each Japanese saké brewery draws water from a local source, and the characteristics of the water defines the saké produced; other than that, a brewery may bring in other elements from outside the locale, including production staff and master brewer. Left: “Land of Water,”Amanoto (Door of Heaven) Shuzô, Akita Prefecture Right: Yonetsuru (Rice Crane) Shuzô, Yamagata Prefecture Saké breweries are rooted firmly in their locality. A brewery fits into its physical space and societal setting, anchoring in the neighborhood emotionally as well as financially. One may identify the elements of locality—its texture, time, and ambience—in the large fermenting barrels still in use from the past, the cedar ball (sugidama) hanging over the front door, and the rich odor of fermenting rice. Traditional tasks of the saké brewers. Many breweries distinguish themselves by retaining various traditional steps of the manual process. Hakuro (Oak Dew) Brewing Co., Niigata Prefecture The task of creating saké from rice, water, and koji spores is a laborious and intensely personal process, especially for smaller brewers. The process entails faceto-face contact with customers, suppliers, and distributors who sustain the brewery enterprise. The internet, however, provides an additional layer of personal contact and prompts a re-imaging of the faces of customers and products. Moreover, posting a website has a certain equalizing effect in that all breweries appear the same size when viewed through this medium. Even a small brewery may have an elaborate web site in Japanese and English, while a larger brewery may simply post a few basic pages in Japanese only. Japanese and English web sites commonly feature enticing 80 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally photographs of saké alongside recommended food pairings, photos of the brewers and staff, maps to the brewery, and contact information about the stores that stock their products. Regional Saké and Shared Identity within Japan Regionality means a geographical area that combines the shared features of local actors and processes into a definable spatial territory. Katzenstein defines regionality in terms of “institutionalized practices and regionalization (a process that engages actors), as projections of specific national models.” (Katzenstein 2006, 1) How does this play out among saké makers in Japan? Saké breweries are scattered throughout Japan from Hokkaido to Kyushu, and institutionalized practices provide regulating standards. The Japanese Sake Brewers Association (established in 1975) and the National Research Institute of Brewing (established in 1904 by the Treasury) are the premier regulating agencies. Also, there are regional brewers unions throughout Japan, such as the Tottori Prefecture Brewer’s Union. Sake tasting competitions abound, including a biennial event that has been sponsored by the government since 1911. Regional identifications of saké are thus put forth as models despite innumerable contradictions. Saké labels featuring saké rice, which is taller with heavier heads of grain than table rice. Eikou (Glory) Shuzô, Ehime prefecture, Shikoku Regionality in Japan exists between the area where an individual conducts his or her daily life and the nation of Japan. These regions may predate modern prefectural designations. The toji system reinforces regionality by giving place names to various schools training master brewers. Traditionally, farmers from northern Japan avoided unemployment over the winter months by traveling to breweries in other parts of Japan to make saké. An Iwate schooled master brewer may work anywhere in Japan but will always be identified with the place he was trained. 81 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Mt. Fuji through the saké barrel: saké label highlighting the connection of a local barrel-cooper-making a large barrel for saké-making within a larger context including Mt. Fuji in the background. Chogan (Long Dragon) Shuzô, Nara Prefecture Saké’s character is dependent upon local water. Saké from the five saké-brewing districts of Nada (in Kobe city), for instance, is regarded as “dryer, sturdy, evenkeeled,” while the softer waters of Fushimi in southern Kyoto produce saké that is “softer, slightly sweet, mildly fragrant, and elegant.” People describe Niigata water as “pristine and clean” and Akita is “tight, compact, and balanced” (Gauntner 2000). In short, water is the fundamental determiner of saké. Breweries take water, often straight from the wells, springs and rivers on site, or from winter snows. On the other hand, while local rice may have certain characteristics, saké rice is no longer local due to nationwide trucking delivery. Brewers can order standardized koji molds used to shape the flavor profiles of the saké from Tokyo institutions. According to Katzenstein, regionalities are far from static, but are porous to national, international, and global processes (Katzenstein 2007, 32-33). Web sites and tourist agencies strategically use this porosity to promote saké. The general literature reinforces the constructs of regionality. In a recent article that featured Akita’s breweries in Japan Airline’s Skyward magazine (found aboard all of their planes in Japan and worldwide), Hitoshi Oi, head of the Tenju Saké Rice Committee and executive managing director of Tenju Shuzô Co., said, “We want people to know that saké is diverse, and each brand has a regional color to it” (JAL Skyward 2009). In Japan, since the 1970s, domestic tourism has proven especially favorable for areas that retain some degree of old architecture or historical ecology. These areas offer an approachable, aesthetic, and nostalgic experience to the visitors from urban areas. Closely associated with the local saké maker is the local miso and shoyu maker, as well as other home and food industries, such as sembei crackers, and produce from local farmers. This tight-knit society includes the producers of preserved fish, fruits, and vegetables. It is within this historical proximity—re-imaged into a collectable experience for tourists—where the breweries and shops can sustain themselves. 82 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Nostalgic memories of rural Japan: A winter saké trope of a traditional thatched roof home in the countryside. This is the trope for winter saké. Miwa Shuzô, Gifu Prefecture Again, web sites are crucial for attracting visitors to remote locations in Japan. TV and magazine promotions also advance this interest. Part of their appeal is the handmade, artisan-oriented quality of life, whether it means to produce bread, saké, crafts, or a variety of other foods. The website shown below is an example of re-imaging a context and making it an attractive, approachable experience. The Chiyonosono saké web site map shows the area in its “traditional” context. Elements include the local saké maker, rice miller, onsen, restaurant, potter, and art gallery. (Source: Chiyonosono web site) Japanese web sites often situate the brewery within a broader context, offering a form of virtual tourism around the area. While the sites are predominately in Japanese, anyone can view them and get a feeling of the projected image of the area and brewery. Most sites include contact information about where to buy their saké or how to order online. Also, they include the history of the locality, information about the brewery, the family, and toji in charge of the final product. Viewing these web 83 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region sites, however, some may think that a web site erases the sense of place, substituting an imagined construction viewable by anyone in the world with a computer. Globalization of Saké Why is saké going global now? Though consumption is on the rise overseas, with exports hitting a record high of 11,334 kiloliters in 2007, domestic popularity has been on a steep decline. According to finance ministry figures, Japanese are drinking only a third of the saké they were 30 years ago. (Ocheltree 2009) In Japan, media strongly promotes saké, along with associated food, restaurants, events, and educational sites. Overseas, saké remained underrepresented for years, but thanks to individuals devoted to showing the way to an international audience, this situation is changing. Premium saké is a healthy form of drinking because it is free of additives and “junk” alcohol. Combined with delicious food, it is part of an enjoyable social experience. Moreover, media and event makers have made the public more aware of how to appreciate premium saké. Fine restaurants and bars worldwide are featuring saké as part of their standard menu—in San Francisco, New York City, London, and many other urban centers. Individuals acting and interacting Saké entered the global market not only because Japanese breweries needed to expand their markets, but also because individuals outside Japan had created a receptive audience in their home countries. By opening the doors to the new audience, these visionary men and women have catalyzed the rediscovery of saké internationally. They publish in books, magazines, newspapers, and online. If they are chefs or food critics, they promote premium saké brands in new combinations with food. As publicists and writers, they bring the stories of the saké makers, breweries, and localities to worldwide audiences. Some culinary innovators are now conjuring up combinations of saké and food that would be unthinkable in Japan. Saké enthusiasts are inviting smaller, premium saké makers to the events outside Japan, which draw hundreds or thousands of imbibers. Larger Japanese brewers are benefiting from the renewed market and are releasing premium brands (usually only available in Japan) for export. Smaller Japanese breweries are breaking new ground by hiring women as master brewers or 84 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally placing them in management positions, whereas in the past they used to work only in the final stages of labeling or in the office as support staff. Some breweries hire local people to work during the winter saké making process, while others seek contact with, or travel to countries outside Japan. “Many of the current presidents and owners of Japanese breweries have lived and been educated overseas, and they have a vastly different outlook on the world than their parents had.” (Timken 2006, 21) Daimon Yasutaka in Katano, Osaka, is a case in point. Daimon spent several years traveling in India and Europe, and he continues to travel to the U.S. promoting saké. His “Daimon Shuzô” is a small, family-run brewery. Daimon himself, as owner and saké master (toji), began the first “Mukune International Saké Brewing Program” (MISBP). In February 2009, he launched a two-year series of one-week saké internships, inviting foreigners to live and work in the brewery for a week making saké alongside the Japanese staff. This innovative strategy is sure to spread the popularity of saké when the participants return to their countries and share their experiences on the internet, through social networks, and on the MISBP blog site. Many individual backers of saké outside Japan have come together to create this program. In the U.S., saké usually shares the shelves with other alcoholic beverages, but currently three saké-only retail stores are devoted solely to selling premium sake. They have been advertising through saké tasting events and web site promotions, and they are now attracting interest from upscale restaurants. Beau Timken established True Sake in 2003 in San Francisco as the first saké-only store. Johnnie and Taiko Stroud established Saké Nomi in Seattle in 2007. The latest is store is Sakaya in New York City established by Rick and Hiroko Smith (also in 2007). Exporters and Distributors Entrepreneurs such as Masataka Shiroki in Canada (Matsuoka 2009) and Beau Timken in the U.S., among others, have been renegotiating a number of outdated importing classifications and tax categories. Distributors such as Vine Connections have developed saké connections with brewers in Japan and maintain an informative website. As for the exporters, exporting associations are doing their best to negotiate the briar patch of international, national, state, and local regulations. Kizakura brewery in Fushimi provides an example of the current status of sake export. They produce saké tailored to different markets in South and East Asia, Europe, and the U.S. Other strategies for expanding the market include supporting local artists and food production to accompany saké, and staging events at the brewery. 85 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Kizakura export distribution (Source: Kizakura website) Labels Re-imaged for the Non-Japanese Gaze Labels provide visual and textual means of conversation between brewers, artists, and consumers, presenting saké as unique products from defined places. These places are recast upon the palm-sized canvases of the bottles’ labels that may include historical figures, events, local scenery, regional animals, literature, folktales, the seasons, and various festivals. Even family members find their way onto that very small easel. Takara Sake, a major brewer in Kyoto, established The Honolulu Sake Brewery & Ice Co. in 1908. At first glance, their label, circa 1950, appears to be the Hawaiian trademark style. Honolulu Sake Brewery: transposed elements of Japanese identity. Takara Musume label from the Honolulu Saké Brewery Co., Ltd. With a closer look, however, it is noticed that aside from the bold red kanji for Takara Musume and hanko (seal) images, there is an underlying Japanese iconography, transposed into Hawaiian iconography: Mt. Fuji becomes Waikiki Diamond Head, and cherry blossoms are replaced by gardenias. The geisha icon becomes a cheerful hula dancer, and the bronzed, slanting rays of the tropical sun replace the red and white stripes of the hinomaru (Yarrow 2005, 67). 86 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Takara Brewery continues to refine the image of saké with a new line of mixed saké drinks. The advertisement below appears modern and sophisticated with its martini glass and the English word play. They call this line of sake “Hana,” a Japanese word for “flower.” SakeOne, an American-owned and operated brewery in Oregon, is reaching out to Americans with the celebrated Shinto torii gate design underscored with the “oriental” style lettering for “organic.” Left: “Hana” advertisement (source: Takara web site) Right: “Momokawa” (source: SakeOne web site) Takara’s line of fruit flavored, premium saké (infused with raspberry, plum, Fuji apple, and lychee) is devoid of obvious Japanese identifiers and valorizes a western sensitivity. On the other hand, Momokawa’s American run SakéOne brewery uses English boldly while acknowledging the Japanese roots of their saké in terms of the “oriental” script for “organic” and the generally recognizable Japanese Shinto torii gate icon. Two labels shown below are other examples of cross-cultural design. “Tozai”—a combination of the Japanese words for east (to) and west (zai)—is a name for premium saké produced by two breweries. Both labels feature artwork by Kyoto based American artist Daniel Kelly. The “Wells of Wisdom” on the left features a painting resembling water rippling on the surface of a Japanese ceramic well. “Living Jewel” on the right refers to the description of Japanese carp (koi) with their sparkling scales and vivid coloring. Both labels give information in English and Japanese with a modern, bright layout. Tozai (East West) labels for export Left: Daimon Shuzô Right: Kizakura Shuzô Gekkeikan, another dominant saké brewer, distributes their popular “One Cup Ozeki” with the same basic label in Japan and abroad. The backside of the label, viewable through the clear glass cup, features an old woodprint of landscape with a message in English, “A Cup of Happiness.” Gekkeikan brewery produces saké in vast amounts and distributes worldwide through production centers in Asia and California. 87 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region One Cup Ozaki is often the first saké encountered by the public outside of Japan. It is a well established global product, and highlighting its message in English may be one reason for its continued success worldwide. “One Cup Ozeki” labels in Japan, Malaysia, and the U.S.A. Left: One Cup purchased in Tokyo Middle: Malaysian One Cup Ozeki (source: Bin web site) Right: American One Cup Ozeki (source: Gekkeikan USA web site) While the front label rightly takes the center stage of a saké bottle, in Japan, the back label performs the additional role of storytelling. Along with the usual technical information, one often finds a bit of lore about the place and the people producing the saké. Reading the story is part of the pleasure of shopping for saké in Japan. In the U.S., however, mandatory government warnings about alcohol dominate the back label. Vine Connections, a leading importer of saké, is trying to include helpful information in English, but there is little room left for the charming vignettes of place. Back label from Vine Connections (left), and an example of a more inviting back label in Japan (right). This one shows the old-style wood flats used in making saké by hand. Left: Vine Connections (source: Lehrman) Right: TouKyo Jouzou (Wisteria Residence) Distillery. Oita Prefecture Saké and Cuisine: a Perfect Pair In Japan, saké is served to harmonize with Japanese cuisine, from a humble plate of steamed edamame beans to the haute cuisine of kaiseki ryori. Unfettered by these associations, adventurous gourmands in other countries are trying unorthodox combinations and finding a receptive audience. Iijima points out the results: Compared to the brand-oriented Japanese market, American consumers choose saké based on their own tastes. This means 88 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally that breweries not so popular in Japan have a chance to succeed in the U.S. market, if they can produce “ginjo” saké that matches American tastes. (Iijima 2008) The key to winning the approval of the consumer is the amino acid combination. Xavier Chapelou explains to Drinks Network: Foods pair well if their amino acids are harmonious. The amino acids in saké pair well with Parmesan cheese, tomatoes, meat extracts, dried shiitake mushrooms and dashi [which] are all rich in amino acids and umami. This is why saké goes so well with so many different foods, not just Japanese. (Booth 2007) This cheerful label presents fish with saké as a pleasing combination. Left: Nozaki Shuzô, Tokyo Right: Suisen (Drunken Hermit) Shuzô, Iwate The Japanese keyword for the amino acids, umami, is a word difficult to explain in English. The British Saké Association clarifies the term as follows: Umami is the latest buzzword in the world of gastronomy and, apart from the fact that the word, and the concept, comes from Japan, it has a lot in common with food. Umami is often referred to as the fifth taste, alongside sweet sour salty and bitter, but also translated as deliciousness or savouriness. (Booth 2007) As innovative chefs and food experts explore umami, a receptive audience of saké should grow, and so will the demand for premium saké. The success of Japanese brewers should continue, as enterprising artisans launch craft breweries in the U.S, Canada, and Norway, among others. The “saké boom” The saké “boom” has been long in coming, and is in progress in urban centers in America, Europe, and Southeast Asia. Japanese and English web sites feature food and saké pairings, recipes, and information about the Japanese breweries. Still, outside Japan, education and experience is needed to situate saké within other culinary preferences. 89 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Now a new movement, lead by adventurous bartenders who create saké cocktails, has pushed the boundaries of saké in a whimsical way. Equally daring chefs are breaking down the myth that saké must be served only with Japanese food. Pairing saké with Western cuisine represents the future of the beverage outside of Japan. (Timken 2006) In Japan, the shochu boom of the past ten years has overshadowed the sales of saké. However, the tables may be turning as the Japanese media continues to feature saké, usually with cuisine combinations and recommended eateries. New saké creations and modern restaurant cuisine combinations are enticing younger audiences. Outside Japan, saké remained a second cousin to wine, or perhaps sherry, but unexpected opportunities have arisen as, unfettered by Japanese tradition, new and creative pairings are making their mark in the glasses and tables of upscale restaurants and drinking establishments all over the world. Describing saké is akin to a special vocabulary for wine in English. However, English translations for foods viewed on Japanese web sites can be perplexing, as illustrated by this description of “Salad made with pickled salmon’s head”: The head contains cartilage, resembling clear ice, extending from the beak to around the eyes. The Japanese name for this cartilage is hizu (literally ice head). The head of a salted salmon can be thinly sliced and pickled to provide a good crunchy accompaniment to saké, something to get the teeth into.” (Kikusui 2000) On a more palatable note, “Saké generally goes well with most things that are fermented,” Shuji Abe of Furusato Japanese Restaurant says, “Thus, miso and shoyubased dishes have been traditional pairings.” Yet Abe recently discovered how well saké and certain blue cheeses meld, prompting him to add a sampling of Gorgonzola, Roquefort, and German blue cheeses to his menu. The pairing may seem far-fetched, but Abe says, “It’s the way premium saké is being enjoyed these days” (NakamaMitsunaga 2001). Saké and Japanese Culture In Shinto rituals, saké provides the bridge between mortals and the kamisama, spirits of the land and sea. From stately Daijousai imperial ceremonies to everyday life including weddings, groundbreakings, house building, ship launching, and raucous festivals, people pour saké to consecrate the moment. 90 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Family life on a label, including toys for the first grandchild (hatsumago) Tohoku Meijo, Yamagata Prefecture The New Year is celebrated with specially wrapped, large bottles of saké presented to every shinto shrine, and large wrapped casks of saké donated by the brewers and other sponsors form neat stacks by the entrances to shrines and temples throughout Japan. This custom represents an unspoken conversation dedicated to the renewal of ties between the secular world and the kamisama through the intermediary of saké. The design motifs of saké labels spring from the brewing process itself, associations in mythology and literature, poetry, nature, the changing of the seasons, and the rice and water comprising Japan’s native brew. Distinctive seasons in Japan include spring, associated with cherry blossoms, autumn and the turning colors of Japanese maple leaves, and late winter, marked by the earliest blooms of the plum, often with snow still in evidence. The associations are deeply rooted as part of the annual cycle of life in Japan. Seasonal motifs for seasonal brews: spring cherry petal, autumn falling Japanese maple leaves, and late winter plum blossoms. Left: Esshu Sakurabiyori, Asahi Shuzô, Niigata Prefecture Center: Umenoyado (Plum Inn) Shuzô, Nara Prefecture Right: Ume Ichirin (Plum Flower) Shuzô, Chiba Prefecture “Saké is part of the Japanese soul” said Edwin O. Reischauer, a former United States Ambassador to Japan and Japan scholar (Kleiman 1989). How much of that soul will be left behind? How much can travel abroad? Over the past two decades, the opportunity for individuals from outside Japan to visit a Japanese brewery or even experience the making of saké is expanding. Today, even the smallest brewery with a web site can be viewed by anyone around the globe. Viewed, yes, but can it be understood by largely English speaking internet audience? While the number of saké breweries continues to decline, a 2007 Japan External Trade Organization’s survey 91 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region reveals that more than half of Japan’s breweries have not been willing to put up a web page even in Japanese (JETRO 2007). This fact indicates that the idea of “going global” is not necessarily attractive to all brewers, nor should it have to be the only way to stay viable—though in reality the lack of a web site in these competitive times seems more likely to be a way toward oblivion. English web sites or Japanese web sites with English-language links remain scarce even for the larger breweries that export their products. French, Korean, or Chinese web pages are statistically nominal. Conclusion Local Issues 1. The Japanese public perception of saké is often negative. This perception remains, but is slowly changing as breweries and sellers reinvent their presentations to younger audience. The growing interest from outsiders may persuade many Japanese to re-evaluate their native brew in a more positive light. 2. Aging saké masters and staff Strategies to cope with this problem include inviting local people to come and work in the brewery as a weekend experience, or to take part in cultivating the rice fields in exchange for saké produced later from the rice they grew. As job prospects become more difficult with Japan’s faltering economy, more people may be attracted to the communal aspects of working in a brewery. Younger people face fewer restrictions in joining the traditional industries of their choice as the Japanese business environment continues to be less than promising. Regional Issues 3. Loss of market share in Japan Sustaining the number of brewers and the size of production remains an open question. Change has come to many brewers, and new ideas include promotions, opening the brewery to tours, and joining forces with other breweries. In fact, groups of brewers are supporting each other to attract interest and promote themselves. The promotion of saké as part of a regional identity and as an attractive site to visit is an important step, and the internet may help them to overcome the isolation that is an inherent part of many breweries located far from major cities. In the end, the market outside of Japan may become a force to sustain many Japanese brewers. Globalization Issues 4. Exporting According to the Japan Saké Brewers Association, some 450 brewers are exporting from Japan, and at least 44 states in the U.S. now allow direct import 92 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally of saké (Gauntner). Changes in shipping method and education for proper care and shop display can prevent spoiled saké from being sold. In the past this was not so, and may have accounted for unpleasant first encounters with the product. In the current worldwide financial bedlam, the market for saké may be influenced by fluctuations in the yen to other world currencies. In the long run though, exporting may prove crucial for the survival of many of the breweries. As Hannah Tokumine said, “Those that embrace selling to export are confirming their longevity.” (British Sake Association 2009) 5. Inappropriate import classifications Saké sellers and restaurants are succeeding in rationalizing outdated restrictions, especially in the U.S. and Canada. 6. Labels with language barriers Part of the delight of saké is in the labels. Just as every year brewers produce new saké, so too do they present new labels. With regard to the labels for exports, a good balance between English and Japanese language seems desirable. Even minimal English labeling will aid the viewer outside Japan to make an informed selection. The back label could be better used to convey specific information about the brewer, the locality it came from, or other Japanese cultural referents. 7. Change in the negative perception of saké outside Japan A positive aspect of the saké boom outside Japan is the reinvention of an exotic beverage known more for the next-morning hangover than as an approachable drink memorable for an excellent evening with friends. It may even spark a renewed interest back in Japan. 8. Unknown Japanese cultural references Over time, the process of making saké will be better known, and the labels will become less baffling. Saké is finding its place alongside cuisine in restaurants, bars, and tables throughout the world. Through the labels, viewers outside Japan receive encoded cultural messages, but so too are the Japanese as they learn of the interest of outsiders. Saké provides an excellent and intriguing example of the globalization of cultural meaning and objects. In conclusion, for nearly a thousand years in Japan, men and women, friends and comrades, warriors, diplomats, and scholars have sat facing each other, cup in hand, enjoying saké together. As the globalization of saké and Japanese cuisine continues, the joy of sharing premium saké will serve as a bridge between people everywhere. Each small glass of saké reinvigorates a local brewery and re-imagines the rich culture and social identities of Japan in a new global context. 93 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References Ashkenazi, Michael and Jeanne Jacob. Food Culture in Japan. Food Culture around the World Series ed. Ken Albala. Westport: Greenwood Press, 2000. Allison, Anne. 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Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, fourth series, volume 22, 2009 Supplement. Daimon, Yasutaka. “Mukune International Sake Brewing Program.” http://www.mukune.com/ internship (accessed April 22, 2009). Gangopadhyay, Partha, and Manas Chatterji, eds. Economic Globalization in Asia. Hampshire: Ashgate, England, 2005. Gauntner, John. Saké Companion: A Connoisseur’s Guide. Philadelphia: Running Press, 2000. Glionna, John M. “A Foreigner Hopes to Revive Japan’s Flagging Spirits.” Los Angeles Times. http:// www.latimes.com/la-fg-japan-sake3-2009feb03,0,913913,full.story (accessed February 3, 2009). Harper, Philip. The Book of Saké: A Connoisseur’s Guide. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2006. Harper, Philip. The Insider’s Guide to Saké. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1998. Iijima, Minami. “Japanese Premium Saké Takes Root in U.S.” Japan Times. 6 Oct. 2008. http:// classified.japantimes.com/supp/sake/nn20081001a2.html (accessed December 1, 2009). 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Kōda, Hiroyuki. “Shudō, the Way of Saké.” Kikusui Saké (2000). http://www.kikusui-sake.com/home/ en_way_1.html (accessed January 26, 2009). Kondo, Hiroshi. Saké: A Drinker’s Guide. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1984. Lehrman, Ed. “Vine Connections.” http://www.vineconnections.com (accessed February 2009). Matsuoka, Hiroyuki. “An Interview with Masataka Hiroki, an Artisan Saké Maker in Vancouver, Canada.” JETRO website. http://www.jetro.org/trends/food_sake.php (accessed April 2009). 94 “Here’s Looking at You”: Re-imaging Saké Locally and Globally Mukune Shuzô. “Mukune.come.” http://www.mukune.com (accessed January 2009). Nakama-Mitsunaga, Eleanor. “Saké Celebration.” Star Bulletin 19 (Sep. 2001). http://archives. starbulletin.com/2001/09/19/features/story1.html (accessed February 6, 2009). Nelson, John K. A Year in the Life of a Shinto Shrine. Seattle: University Washington Press, 1996. Ocheltree, Jessica. “Philip Harper: The first non-Japanese master sake brewer is optimistic about the future of nihonshu.” Metropolis. http://metropolis.co.jp/tokyo/783/sake.asp (accessed April 2009). Sato, Miwako. “A New Design for Tengumai.” KEI, Kateigaho International Edition (Winter 2009): 16-17. Timken, Beau, and Sara Deseran. Saké: A Modern Guide. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2006. Wan, Henry Y., Jr. Globalization and Economic Development in East Asia: Lecture Notes of Professor Henry Y. Wan Jr. Ed. Koji Shimomura. The Research Institute for Economics and Business Administration. Kobe: Kobe University, 2007. Wigen, Kären. The Making of a Japanese Periphery, 1750-1920. Berkeley: University California Press, 1995. Yabuki, Isao. The Special Foods of Tokyo. Tokyo: Foreign Affairs Association of Japan, 1949. Yano, Tsuneta, and Kyoichi Shirasaké. NIPPON: A Chartered Survey of Japan 1936. Tokyo: Kokuseisha, 1936. Yarrow, Patricia. “Images of Japanese Saké: Snakes in the Glass.” Thesis, University of Colorado, Boulder, 2005. Yellin, Robert Lee. Ode to Japanese Pottery: Saké Cups and Flasks. Tokyo: Coherence Inc., 2004. 95 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines 96 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 6 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World Krishnendu Ray Copyright © 2010 by Krishnendu Ray All rights reserved 97 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region This essay is the result of my attempt to engage with, elaborate, and specify Sidney Mintz’s claim that Americans do not have a national cuisine (Mintz 1996). One of the reasons he cites is that Americans do not talk about “American cuisine.” I have addressed that claim with detailed empirical evidence in “Nation and Cuisine: The Evidence from American Newspapers ca. 1830–2003” (Ray 2008). In it I show that in fact some Americans have embraced the notion of American cuisine, lately and unevenly to be sure, but they have done so with gusto since the early 1970s. Another reason Mintz gives for the absence of an American cuisine is the various waves of migration that have created numerous ethnic and sub-national culinary cultures. In this paper, I wish to draw attention to the second dimension of that discussion: what the print record reveals about the American conversation over gustatory differences as imagined through the category of ethnicity. American taste-makers, that is, influential journalists and restaurant-reviewers, have framed American culinary cultures in two distinct ways: first, as high-status foreign foods, which were initially limited to Continental and French cuisines but eventually included Italian and Japanese cookery towards the end of the twentieth century; second, as low status and risky food of the immigrant poor, which they have classified as “ethnic fare.” The first category is understood primarily in aesthetic terms of taste and masculine notions of skill, while the latter is understood primarily in terms of necessity arising from a history of undifferentiated toil. My arguments here are based on data from four sources. First, national American newspapers, such as The New York Times, analyzed qualitatively and in detail from 1851 to the present. Second, descriptive quantitative analysis of The New York Times, Chicago Tribune and The Los Angeles Times to contextualize the narrow focus of the first source. Third, qualitative analysis of journals digitized in the American Periodical Series. Fourth, Zagat Surveys beginning in 1982.1 Based on empirical material from the above, this paper makes an argument about taste, ethnicity and hierarchy as it relates to the gustatory imagination of American taste-makers through the twentieth century. Contingent Categories I use the term “restaurant,” as conceived by the French in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (Spang 2000). In Paris, according to Rebecca Spang, restaurants had first appeared in the 1760s as “restorative palaces” and it was only by the late 1790s that the word was “set loose from its moorings in the culture of 1. This is part of a larger project that draws on data from the National Restaurant Association, occupational and birthplace data since the 1850 Census of the United States, and interviews with restaurateurs. 98 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World medicalized sensibility. “Restaurant” had now become the fashionable word used for any Paris eatery” (2000, 173). For a while the terminology was somewhat fluid, ranging between restaurants, inns with table d’hôte, and cook shops, and it wasn’t until the nineteenth century that the term, restaurant, was generally recognized and understood to mean separate tables, individualized table settings, printed menus, silverware, and attentive service. Spang suggests that the specificity of the restaurant is marked by the peculiarity of the term itself. For decades into the nineteenth century, Anglophone authors and publishers continued to italicize the word restaurant and restaurateur, marking them and their referents not only as foreign, but as untranslatably so, evidence that something had happened in France that had occurred nowhere else on the planet (2000,175). The argument is that people have eaten out for a long time and continue to do so in innumerable ways, such as in cook-shops and at food vending carts, but that they have eaten in restaurants only since the French Revolution. French restaurants have provided the template for fine-dining restaurants in the West, and I am provisionally using the word restaurant in this historical sense.2 I must also begin with a working definition of an ethnic restaurant. This would be a restaurant that serves “other peoples’ food,” as defined in its changing historical incarnations from the perspective of self-described mainstream tastes. I will begin by assuming that an ethnic restaurant is one that carries a diacritical ethnic marker– German, Polish, Irish, Jewish, Eastern European, Indian, Filipino, etc. Ethnicity of course is the record of a popular, practical, and changing American conception of groups of people—our own kind and others. In fact, the terms “restaurant” and “ethnicity” have for a long time pulled in different directions, the former towards qualities of distinction and the latter towards cheap ubiquity. Let the rest of my story slowly reveal the problem of defining ethnic food within that logic of practice. Hybrid Cuisines. This restaurant is owned by a Pakistani and the cooking is done by a Mexican and a Pakistani. Photo by Krishnendu Ray 2. I am ignoring for now the problematic nature of that contention at the least for the cities of China under the Southern Sung 1127-1376 AD as suggested by Joanna Waley-Cohen (2006) among others. 99 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region “Our Wide Taste in Food”: Inventing the Ethnic Restaurant in The New York Times Between 1851 and 2003 the words “ethnic” and “restaurant” were found in food articles in the New York Times (henceforth NYT) on 1,585 instances.3 The first article to use both terms separately was published on October 8, 1959 in the NYT under the title, “Use of Native Spices Adds Interest to Unusual Cuisine of Balinese” (written by the Times’ first serious restaurant critic, Craig Claiborne). On the other hand, the phrase “ethnic restaurant” can be identified 323 times with Claiborne again leading that category on July 15, 1964 with a NYT article entitled “Variety of French Food Sampled on West Coast.” There were 586 hits for “ethnic food,” with a lead article by James J. Nagle entitled “Tastes Widening for Kosher Food” on November 6, 1960 in the NYT. Thus the phrases “ethnic food” and “ethnic restaurant” were becoming popular terms in the NYT from the 1960s onwards, and neither of these foods was considered by the authors to be representative of mainstream taste. There are no references to either of these phrases in the American Periodicals Series, a comprehensive collection of periodicals published in the United States from 1741 to 1850 (and quite substantial thereafter until the first decades of the twentieth century). “Ethnic” does appear individually in the periodical series in the March 1805 issue of General Assembly’s Missionary Magazine, except to distinguish non-Christians from Christians. That is consistent with the fact that “ethnicity”’ is derived from the Greek noun ethnos, meaning nation or people and is used to refer to people in general or “other” people in particular (Sollors 1996). On October 8, 1959, Craig Claiborne wrote in the NYT, “Because New York is a city of sophistication and with tremendously different ethnic groups, the public here has extraordinary opportunities to dine on the ‘exotic’ fare of a hundred regions,” marking a new attitude towards gustatory difference, of valuable proliferation. He continues, “One of the most fascinating of the many Far Eastern restaurants here is A Bit of Bali….Since the management obviously has respect for authenticity, dining there can be a rewarding adventure,” he concludes, anxious that the thing barely grasped would elude his reach. This is a quintessential concern of our own times— the search for difference, yet the fear that contact will contaminate the exotic. Of course there has been exotic food long before the 1960s but American tastemakers did not call it ethnic. On August 6, 1871 the NYT noted, “…the fact is patent 3. I end at 2003 because when I conducted the research for this piece in the NYT archives, articles as opposed to advertisements were clearly identifiable in the historical database up to that year. I wanted to restrict my research to articles so as to measure discursive valence (hence for the moment ignoring commercial speech). 100 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World that restaurants and boarding-houses are fast multiplying, and threaten at no distant day to usurp the place of the family dinner table as well as the family mansion.” Here difference is framed within a discourse of apprehension. Anxieties about intrusion into the “domestic” with its multiple connotations of family, home, hearth and nation were typical concerns in almost all commentaries on “restaurants” at this time. Most were referred to as “German, French, and Italian Dining-Saloons,” into the late 1920s. In those constructions, restaurants clearly belonged to the demimonde. Yet, there was a hint of urban excitement accompanied by ethnic disgust. One can see evidence of this in an 1852 piece about Philadelphia subtitled an “Era of Saloonism,” which ends with the following: Scores of waiters, like dumb mutes, stand ready to receive your orders, and to convey them to that concealed and invisible sanctuary whence issues so many multitudinous preparations, whose fantastic names tickle the ear, and whose superlative qualities please and exhilarate the palate…. You are persuaded that, lost in the mazes of the city, you have entered, by accident, into some secret avenue, which has conducted you into an elysian state of existence – some Mahomedian paradise, adorned with marble and gold; perfumed with frankincense and myrrh; and lighted by the brilliant eyes of beautiful houris (October 27, 1852, p. 2). In fact, this mid-nineteenth-century urban excitement for the exotic, recedes by the 1880s, precisely when immigration takes off, but then in the 1920s, we meet people like Helen Bullitt Lowry, who feels compelled to rehabilitate the “old world” foods of Greeks, Jews and Italians in New York. According to Donna Gabaccia this is also the moment when American food was both nationalized as an outcome of technological developments in transportation and refrigeration, yet ghettoized in ethnic enclaves due to mass migration and disdain towards cultural minorities (1998). Until the 1920s, exotic food, if referred to at all, was a subject of disgust in such titles as “Found in Garbage-Boxes stuff that is utilized for food by some people” (July 15, 1883, NYT) and bizarre reportage as, “An Octopus Eaten by Chinamen” (Dec. 6, 1880, NYT). This sense of repugnance clearly marked the outer boundary of a selfconscious taste community, and it was only through the cultural transformations brought about by the Civil Rights Movement that such attitudes would appear to be crude and impolite. By contrast, society restaurants such as Delmonico’s were welcomed with open arms. In fact, Delmonico’s new up-town location was warmly embraced by this NYT article, which appeared on April 7, 1862: 101 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region When the best families were clustered around the Bowlinggreen, and gentlemen dandies who promenaded on the Battery were expected to wear white kid gloves, the name DELMONICO first became known to the lovers of good living in the City… The establishment (which was formerly the mansion of Mr. MOSES II. GRINNELL) has been fitted up with faultless taste, and is without any exception, the handsomest place of this kind in the City [capital in original] (1862: 5). Every new Delmonico’s location is received with rapture and unfailingly contains some patrician reference, such as “formerly the mansion of Mr. Moses,” and any society ball held in one of these venerated restaurants is announced in the dailies with much fanfare. In fact, the earliest references to restaurants are to be found either in the classified sections announcing various events (primarily balls), or ironically in reports primarily concerned with crime. And thus it happened that even a posh restaurant like Delmonico’s could be highlighted in the NYT on account of a robbery committed on a September day in 1852: …officer Lynch, of the First Ward Police, arrested an employee of Delmonico’s Hotel, in Broadway, named Theodore Stuckhart, upon suspicion of robbery. At a late hour, on the previous night, the room of a West India gentleman, named Henry Pinnock, was opened and three leather portmanteaus broken into, with iron instruments; from one of the portmanteaus was abstracted nearly $500 in gold coin, and some valuable articles of wearing apparel (NYT, Sep 4, 1852, p. 1). Delmonico’s is referenced before this incident, on February 3, 1852, but only in the announcement section for a Saturday night meeting by the Swiss Benevolent Society to elect its officers. It would take some time for Delmonico’s to lose its ethnic affiliation and become a high society hotspot. In general, German restaurants—considered different enough at this time to be ethnic—were unfavorably compared to Delmonico’s, Sutherland, and Cable. Yet, on January 19, 1873, the NYT published a long and relatively even-handed piece entitled “German Restaurants.” According to the unnamed author, German restaurants could be distinguished by their cheapness and abundance—a consistent ethnic marker—and were said to serve “the odd things that foreigners love,” along with such popular American items as roasts, pumpkin pies and dumplings. For the Frenchman there was “lentil soup, in which masses of Bologna sausage are floating, while the Irishman is vigorously to [sic] work on something like fish-balls smothered in red cabbage,” all of which was served with an “enormous supply of coarse German bread.” One could also order “weiner snitzel—a tremendous name which, however, when brought, is only veal cutlet with the bone removed.” Another says “He feels delicate, and will have 102 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World calf’s tongue with raisins. This delectable dish, when it makes its appearance, is not very inviting in appearance.” For all this, the author notes, the “…price marked on the carte is fifteen cents. Further investigation into the mysteries of German cuisine shows beef a la mode served with macaroni a very peculiar but highly satisfactory way of eating it,” all served by waiters who are “clearly German” (Ibid). It obviously took some amount of practical knowledge of posture, gesture, and accent that the writer presumed to share with his readers, to be able to tell a German obviously from an Irishman or an Englishman. By the interwar years we begin to hear difference dealt on a slightly different register. In a 1935 an article entitled “Our Wide Taste in Food,” Helen Morgan wrote, “Strange dishes have been taken from one home to another, until, as a consequence, an American family of 1935 might reasonably concoct a meal like this: fruit cocktail, sauerkraut, spaghetti, mutton or lamb or meat balls, corn on the cob, garlic salad and apple pie.” She assured us at the end that “Undoubtedly any one subject to [such] nightmares would not survive, yet such a hodge-podge is not impossible” (October 13, 1935, Section Magazine p.17). From our vantage point, the menu seems perfectly normal but Morgan balances her enthusiasm for the exotic by referencing the “strangeness” of the collation. Nevertheless, the ethnic as exotic and as someone with slightly disgusting eating habits continues as a minor theme, but only as a minor theme, after cultural democratization brought about by the Civil Rights Movement. We can smell traces of that premise as late as May 16, 1999, when Richard Weir wrote in the NYT, “Not for the Faint of Palate. Guinea Pig, Cow’s Spleen, All Part of City’s Diet.” Measuring Discursive Valence of Cuisines: Counting Cats in Zanzibar? Having used the NYT (and a few other periodicals) interpretively to develop some sense of ethnic eateries in the self-understanding of its reporters, I wanted to get a feel for the historical patterning, a bird’s eye view if you will, of the talk on eateries that were marked with the diacritical touch of difference in major American newspapers with a national reach. So I set myself the task of classifying the talk on restaurants in the American print media as it relates to difference over the last 150 years. Why 150 years? Because that is about the outer temporal limit of any archived newspaper in the USA. Figure 1 shows how French and German restaurants dominated the conversation on ethno-nationally marked cuisine at the time of the Civil War, but both receded dramatically near the end of the nineteenth century, gradually to be overshadowed by stories about Chinese and Italian restaurants. Chinese restaurants rose in public consciousness from a low of 10% of all articles concerning restaurants in the NYT 103 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region between 1861-1880, to a high of 35% between 1941-1960, then declined to about 20% by 2000 when, interestingly, Chinese immigration reached new heights. The renewal of Chinese immigration in the 1960s might have diluted its prestige. The volume of talk on Chinese restaurants may have also suffered due to cultural liberalization during the 1960s that created many more challengers to the category of legitimate differences. Italian restaurants also climbed in terms of American discourse until 1900 but then fell in the first two decades of the twentieth century (when Italian immigration peaked), again to slowly rise until the 1960s. This was followed by a rapid rise, precisely when Italian immigration fell off. French restaurants receded from a high point of 33.33% of all news articles between 1861-1880, to a low of 17.62% between 1921-1940. Then it climbed up to about 24% by 1980 only to decline, once again, to about 16% by 2000. Since emigration from France (or Canada) to the US played a relatively minor role throughout this period there were other reasons for the pattern, as I discuss below.4 Over the last 150 years, media discussion on German and Continental restaurants have declined precipitously. By contrast, Japanese and Mexican restaurants are becoming much more visible, the former even more so. Cuisine categories that increase in prominence after the 1960s are generally quite remarkable, given that the ratio for most cuisines tend to decline with the increase in the number of named cuisines, which is related to omnivorous tastes (Johnston and Baumann 2007). (It should also be noted parenthetically, that the categories in this figure include “ethnic,” “national,” or “foreign” cuisines, which are not so many different things as parts of diverse classification systems, each with its notable diacritical mark of difference). 4. It is important to clarify that these numbers are counts of media conversations, not places, as such. So it is possible to have much talk about a few places (e.g., Delmonico’s) and little conversation about many eateries (mostly cook-shops). In this article I count numerous ways in which ethnic eateries show up in the discussion about food, but these numbers are not a count of the number of ethnic eateries per se; instead they measure their discursive valence. Over the duration that I am interested in, which is the last 150 years, we do not have counts for the number of eateries. Total numbers of eating and drinking establishments have been counted since 1929 but such establishments are not classified by ethnic or national markers. Telephone directories are useful for that purpose by about the 1950s, depending on the ubiquity of telephones (as studied by Wilbur Zelinsky 1985). Before telephone directories we have guide books, which are much more idiosyncratic by nature. 104 40.00% Chinese 35.00% Chinese Percentage of articles with “restaurant” French 30.00% Chinese French 25.00% German Chinese Italian French French French Italian 20.00% Chinese Chinese 15.00% American Italian American 10.00% Italian Chinese 0.00% 105 1861-1880 French Italian German American German American Japanese Continental Japanese Mexican American Japanese German 5.00% Italian French Italian Japanese Mexican Continental 1881-1900 Mexican Continental 1901-1920 Continental Mexican 1921-1940 Years Japanese German Japanese Mexican American German Mexican Continental Continental 1941-1960 1961-1980 Japanese Mexican American Continental German 1981-2000 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World Figure 1: NYT coverage of ethnic restaurants 1861-2000 Figure 2: Coverage of restaurants in NYTimes, LATimes, Chicago Tribune Filipino Irish Soul Korean Continental German Thai Spanish Ethnicities Indian Mexican American Japanese French Chinese Italian 0.00% 5.00% 10.00% 15.00% 106 Percentage of articles with restaurant NYT 1851-2003 LATimes 1881-2003 Chicago Tribune 1849-2003 20.00% 25.00% Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Greek A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World I wanted to see if there was any difference between the coverage of such diacritically marked restaurants in the NYT and other national newspapers. The result is presented in Figure 2. It turns out that there is little difference, with the exception of the number of news articles on Mexican and German restaurants. Figure 2 also shows that most articles about restaurants in major American newspapers pertain to Italian restaurants, which is a remarkable development that I have commented on elsewhere (Ray 2007). If we add another measure—the much shorter duration of Zagat-rated evaluation of New York City restaurants—to the data from national newspapers, we find the following pattern in figure 3. It is important to note that the Zagat data-set does not begin until 1982 (informal ratings began in 1979 but were not published) and the earliest publicly available survey goes back only to 1986 in the Library of Congress. Zagat LLC is unwilling to share its archived material. More importantly for my purpose, Zagat coverage is much shorter than the 150-year NYT or Chicago Tribune data-set. Despite that weakness, the Zagat New York City data shows that Italian restaurants have done consistently well and stayed above 25% in terms of all Zagatrated restaurants between 1986 and 2006 (the trend persists in updated 2009 data).5 In contrast, French and Continental restaurants have declined precipitously in terms of percentage of all restaurants, the former to just under 15% of all Zagat-rated restaurants and the latter to just over 1%. Chinese restaurants have also declined, but less so, from a high of 8% of all Zagat-rated New York City restaurants in 1986 to a low of 4% by 2006. On the other hand, American and Japanese restaurants have improved their position to about 20%, in the case of the former, and 7% in the case of the latter. Most importantly for our purposes, it appears that (a) an American restaurant cuisine was born, at least discursively, within the last two decades of the twentieth century, and (b) as a foreign cuisine, Japanese cuisine is beginning to replace French cuisine in the estimation of American taste makers, if we follow the trend lines. 5. Again, since I am concerned primarily with the conversation about restaurants it really does not greatly matter whether my claims about Zagat-surveyed restaurants are universally representative. Zagat surveys are relevant for my analysis only because they are pertinent to the restaurant and a cohort of taste-makers in NYC. 107 Figure 3: Trend Lines for Major Cuisines: Percent of Zagat-rated NYC Restaurants 1986-2006 30.00% Italian Italian Italian 25.00% Italian French American American French American American Chinese French 15.00% Continental French French Italian American Japanese 10.00% Continental Chinese 5.00% Chinese Japanese Japanese Continental Japanese Chinese Japanese Chinese Continental Continental 108 0.00% 1986 2000 1990 Years 2006 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Percent Change 20.00% A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World I place Japanese and French cuisine in the “foreign” rather than “ethnic” food category for a simple reason: demographics. In the U.S. 2000 Census, only 3% of the American population claimed French ancestry, and only 52,907 people in New York City did so, yet 14% of the Zagat-rated restaurants in NYC (out of all restaurants surveyed by Zagat with clear diacritical markers) are French. Similarly, only 22,636 people living in NYC, out of over 8 million people, claimed Japanese ancestry, yet 7% of the Zagat-rated New York City restaurants are Japanese (again, those restaurants with clear ethno-national markers). At the bottom of the social hierarchy of taste we see, for instance, that Mexican and Soul Food restaurants account for only about one percent, respectively, of all Zagat-listed eateries in New York City in 2006, and this is at a time when African-Americans—who are symbolically associated with Soul Food—constitute almost 2 million of New York City’s residents. Americans of Mexican descent account for another 186,872 (who are distinct from 2 million other Latinos in New York City). The data hints of a certain hierarchy of judgment among American taste-makers. Hierarchy of Taste? Concerns about hierarchy have dominated the discussion of taste in sociology after Pierre Bourdieu (1984; also see Lamont & Fourier 1992). In Distinction (1984) Bourdieu critiques considerations of aesthetic taste in Western philosophy as nothing more transcendental than durable class dispositions, which he polarizes between the tastes of necessity—heavy, sweet, rich, un-self-conscious comestibles—and tastes of luxury, which is the realm of choice and restraint, and involves the preference for smaller, bitter, lighter, subtler, flavors and portions. Parts of Bourdieu’s theory of distinction could be criticized for tying class too closely to certain foods eternally, when things such as polenta could begin as the heavy food of the poor, but over time climb up the class hierarchy, and whole cuisines could fall down the ladder, such as Continental or Chinese among American gastronomes. But Bourdieu’s more powerful argument is the one about relative position-taking in the field of gastronomy. Bourdieu’s field theory can account for such changes as polenta climbing up in the hierarchy and iceberg lettuce falling in estimation, or the French bourgeoisie’s love of Bordeaux and the American bourgeoisie’s love of Chardonnay. But the problem remains about how we are to measure and depict hierarchical relationships. Average prices in a certain class of restaurants may be one provisional measure of hierarchy. Since sales data is not available from every restaurant, we have to rely on the prices listed in the Zagat survey which identifies the price of a dinner for one, with a glass of wine, tax, and tips for every restaurant. Using that metric one can say a few things about hierarchy in the social landscape of New York City restaurants. Check averages in Zagat-rated New York City restaurants listed below (Table 1) gives one view of the hierarchy of 109 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Table 1: Hierarchy of Taste. Check Averages of NYC Zagat-rated Restaurants 2006 taste between various ethno-national categories in the field of American gastronomy. Ethnicity/ Nationality claimed A Number of people in NYC claiming an ancestry in 2000 Census Rank in terms of decreasing check average Average price of meal in current 2006 dollars Total number of restaurants in printed Zagat 2006 Very Expensive Restaurant as % of all restaurants within that group (over $66) Expensive Restaurant as % of all restaurants within that group ($41-65) Moderately Expensive Restaurant as % of all restaurants within that group ($26-40) Inexpensive Restaurant as % of all restaurants within that group (up to $25) E F G H I B C D Continental n.a. 1 51.07 15 27 33 40 0 French 52,907 2 47.81 202 12 47 37 4 Japanese 22,636 3 46.72 101 12 35 44 9 American n.a. 4 42.83 270 9 44 34 13 Italian 692,739 5 42.27 389 3 49 41 7 Greek 80,145 6 38.71 32 3 31 56 9 Spanish 8,233 7 37.73 30 0 20 77 3 Indian 170,899 8 33.85 43 0 14 60 26 Mexican 186,872 9 32.88 39 0 21 49 31 Korean 86,473 10 31.43 17 0 18 53 29 Vietnamese 11,334 11 29.08 26 0 15 46 39 Thai 4,169 12 28.63 45 0 9 51 40 Chinese 361,531 13 28.47 63 2 17 32 49 Southern n.a. 14 28.44 24 0 12 38 50 Average 8,008,278 28.14 2,003 n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a. Soul 1,962,154 = Af.-Am 15 24.50 11 0 0 26 64 TexMex n.a. 16 22.00 4 0 0 50 50 Note 1: The above categories of Very Expensive, Expensive, etc. are determined by Zagat metrics of typical expenses for a meal, with one drink, and tips. Note 2: About one-third of Continental restaurants are also listed under other cuisines, mostly French. Note 3: Seven out of 11 Soul Food restaurants are also listed under the category, Southern. Note 4: The “Spanish” population in column 1 is distinct from Latino. Note that the top three cuisines are, for the lack of a better word, “foreign” foods. “Foreign” though a connotative term, is applied here because the number of people whose ancestries (according to the U.S. 2000 Census) actually relate to the top cuisines is quite small. Among the top seven ethno-national cuisine identifiers, only persons of Italian lineage have significant demographic weight in NYC as of 2000. Also note that from column F to column I there is a pattern in terms of the distribution of the “Very Expensive” to the “Inexpensive” restaurants as they relate to ethnonationality. The higher ranking cuisines—Continental, French and Japanese—are the only ones that reach double-digit figures in terms of percentage distribution of Very Expensive restaurants. American and Italian follow closely with almost half the restaurants in the Expensive category. The middle cluster (Greek to Thai restaurants, with rankings from 6 to 12), are grouped in the “Moderately Expensive” category, while most of the restaurants in the bottom section (from Chinese to TexMex, with ranking from 13 to 16), cluster in the “Inexpensive” category. 110 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World One important difference between Chinese restaurants and the others in this category is that there are a substantial number of “Expensive” Chinese restaurants, while this is not the case for the other restaurants in this category, including, Soul and TexMex. Furthermore, Mexican restaurants at ranking 9 (Column C) do much better than TexMex at number 16, affirming what I mentioned before about the prestige of foreign foods in the American imagination. This data would seem to suggest that proximity to poor ethnic groups undermines the prestige of a cuisine. Yet that is not the only way the variable between the self and the other gets weighted. “American” cuisine has also done very well among the taste-makers, at least since the 1970s, so there has been an upward adjustment in terms of American gastronomic selfconception largely in national terms. So we can see that American gastronomic nationalism has finally been born after a long gestation period and much self-doubt (contra Mintz 1996). My preliminary hypothesis is that American taste-makers have a threefold classification system by which they venerate a few foreign cuisines, Continental, French and Japanese (in that order—now adding Spanish and Greek), or they “slum it” by patronizing Soul, Mexican, Dominican food. Falling somewhere between the two poles are Chinese, Indian, Korean, Thai, and Vietnamese foods—all Asian, by the way, which hints at a larger dynamic of cultural capital, that is, a global politicaleconomy of signs, which I believe is unrelated to food per se. In such constructions ethnic foods never reach the epicurean heights of foreign foods, but some ethnic foods do better than others. Based on the preliminary data cited above, a related hypothesis is that the prestige of a particular ethnic cuisine is not analogous to the total number of New Sensory Urbanism. A backdrop of the Chrysler Building for Pongal, a Kosher vegetarian Indian Restaurant Photo by Krishnendu Ray people of a particular heritage; in fact the two may be inversely related. 111 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region American cuisine, on the other hand, evokes an association between culinary culture and nation that the French have had a monopoly on for so long. This national identification goes hand in hand with a complex love and loathing for ethnic interlocutors. Proximity, especially within a class hierarchy, can be a cultural liability much greater than foreignness. The intimate “other” is always disdained, while the distant “other” can be safely eulogized. These two polarities of identification— nation and ethnicity—mark a complex American relationship between the self and the other tamed within that national self. 112 A Taste for Ethnic Difference: American Gustatory Imagination in a Globalizing World References Bourdieu, Pierre. 1984. Distinction. A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Gabaccia, Donna R. 1998. We Are What We Eat. Ethnic Food and the Making of Americans. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Johnston. Josèe and Shyon Baumann. 2007. Democracy versus Distinction: A Study of Omnivorousness in Gourmet Food Writing. American Journal of Sociology 113, 1: 165-204. Lamont, Michelle, and Marcel Fournier, eds. 1992. Cultivating Differences: Symbolic Boundaries and the Making of Inequality. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mintz, Sidney. 1996. Tasting Food, Tasting Freedom. Boston: Beacon Press. Sollors, Werner. 1996. Foreword: Theories of Ethnicity. In Theories of Ethnicity. A Classical Reader, edited by Werner Sollors, x-xliv. New York: NYU Press. Spang, Rebecca L. 2000. The Invention of the Restaurant. Paris and Modern Gastronomic Culture. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Ray, Krishnendu. 2007. Ethnic Succession and the New American Restaurant Cuisine. In The Restaurants Book, edited by David Berris and David Sutton, 97-114. Oxford: Berg. ______. 2008. Nation and Cuisine. The Evidence from American Newspapers, ca. 1830-2003. Food & Foodways 16, 4: 259-297. Waley-Cohen, Joanna. 2006. Cooking, Consumption, and Society in Eighteenth-Century China. Paper presented at the NYU Feast and Famine Workshop, October 20, in New York, USA. Zagat New York City Restaurants. Volumes from 1982 to 2009. NY: Zagat Survey. Zelinsky, Wilbur. 1985. The Roving Palate: North America’s Ethnic Restaurant Cuisines. Geoforum 16: 51-72. 113 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 7 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways Stephanie Assmann Copyright © 2010 by Stephanie Assmann All rights reserved 114 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region “Eat Japanese”—Food Security, Food Safety and Food-related Health Problems—Intertwined Issues in Contemporary Japan The Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (hereafter: MAFF) released a short video clip in 2009.1 The four minute animated video subtitled in English addresses alarming concerns with regards to Japan’s high dependency on food imports, the rise of lifestyle-related illnesses (seikatsu shûkan-byô) such as obesity, diabetes, and high blood pressure, and finally the loss of a distinct Japanese food culture consisting of fish, rice, soy, and vegetables. A solution to all these pressing problems is quickly presented: “Eat Japanese”—a return to Japanese food would make weight problems vanish, Japanese food culture would be revived, and Japan would regain a higher self-sufficiency rate. The video clip blames current health problems of Japanese citizens on the globalization of food practices, in particular on the rise in popularity of Western foods, especially meat consumption and fatty foods. Food Action Nippon and the Slow Food Movement—A Self-proclaimed Government Movement and a Popular Movement As the above video illustrates, three pertinent issues, the question of food security, the increase of lifestyle-related health problems among the Japanese population, as well as the issue of food safety currently pose serious challenges to the Japanese government. In this paper, I will provide a brief background of the above issues and introduce two movements that aim to counterbalance the globalization of food practices by requesting a return to domestic and local food products. The first movement I will address is the governmental campaign, Food Action Nippon, which was established by MAFF in October 2008 with the goal of initiating a “citizen movement” (kokumin undô) among the Japanese population. The second movement is the “Slow Food Movement,” which originated in Italy in 1986 and has developed into a global movement operating worldwide. The Slow Food Movement has been active in Japan since 1998 and is represented throughout the entire country. Before investigating how both movements address the current challenges of food security, food safety and lifestyle-related illnesses, I will first examine the use of the term “movement” and establish a theoretical framework that defines both movements. It is important to note that Food Action Nippon and the Slow Food Movement have ostensibly similar objectives in proclaiming a return to local food heritage and in providing information about local foodways to the Japanese population, but they differ with regards to their origins, structure, agents and purposes. According to 1. Source: http://www.maff.go.jp/e/grv2422/, accessed on 22 April 2009. 115 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways Sidney Tarrow’s definition, a social movement is described as “collective challenges, based on common purposes and social solidarities in sustained interaction with elites, opponents and authorities” (Tarrow 1998, 4). In their reader on social movements, Goodwin and Jasper offer a similar definition: “A social movement is a collective, organized, sustained, and non-institutional challenge to authorities, powerholders, or cultural beliefs and practices” (Goodwin and Jasper 2003, 3). Do these definitions apply to Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan? The Slow Food Movement emerged in the 1980s in Italy as a popular movement from left-wing activists in opposition to a scandal about methanol-tainted wine (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 48-49). A major turning point in the formation of the Slow Food Movement was the opposition to the opening of a McDonald’s restaurant on the Piazza di Spagna in Rome (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 69). Despite opposition to the McDonald’s fast food chain, the Slow Food Movement has defined itself not as a movement against Fast Food per se but rather as a broader movement against globalization and the homogenization of foods and tastes (Shimamura 2004, 17). The movement has matured from an activists group—which opposes a lifestyle that embraces the globalization of food in the forms of fast food, ready-made meals, and more recently, genetically modified food—into a transnational network that is active worldwide.2 Given the transformation of the Slow Food Movement, I argue in this essay that the definition of the term “movement” needs to be redefined as applied to both the Slow Food Movement and Food Action Nippon. More specifically, I argue that the Slow Food Movement can be more accurately defined as a transnational advocacy network according to Keck’s and Sikkink’s definition of “transnational advocacy networks” that “include[s] those relevant actors working internationally on an issue, who are bound together by shared values, a common discourse, and dense exchanges of information and services” (Keck and Sikkink 1998, 2). Transnational advocacy networks “involve actors from nongovernmental, governmental and intergovernmental organizations, and are increasingly present in such issue areas as human rights, women’s rights, and the environment” (Keck and Sikkink 1998; Tarrow 1998, 188). According to Sidney Tarrow’s elaborations on transnational contention, the role of transnational advocacy networks is for the establishment of domestic movements so that local activists can experience a sense of shared values and participation in wider transnational networks (Tarrow 1998, 192). This holds true for the Slow Food Movement in Japan, which maintains a close relationship to the mother organization in Italy in terms of its well organized grassroots movement in Japan. 2. Slow Food currently has over 100,000 members in 132 countries around the world. In 2005, Slow Food had 38,000 members in Italy, the country of its origin. The United States followed with almost 15,000 members, third was Germany with approximately 7,500 members, followed by Switzerland with 3,800 members (Petrini and Padovani 2005: 132). Slow Food Japan has approximately 2,000 members. 116 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region In contrast, Food Action Nippon has not been formed as a collective and sustained entity within the Japanese population in opposition to an authority. Rather, Food Action Nippon can be best described as a state campaign or a government campaign established by MAFF with the objective of initiating a “citizen movement” within the Japanese population. Due to these differences the two movements—a state campaign under the pretext of a self-proclaimed movement and a popular movement more accurately defined as a transnational advocacy network—have different perceptions of tackling current problems such as food security, safety, and food-related health concerns. Food Education and Food Self-sufficiency: Two Objectives of the Japanese Government The governmental campaign, Food Action Nippon, is not the only initiative launched by the Japanese government with the objective of changing the eating habits of the population. Overall, the Japanese government has decided to take a more active role in counterbalancing the globalization of food in educating its citizens about appropriate and healthy food choices. In its efforts to reshape the dietary habits of the Japanese population, the government is addressing two issues in particular. The first concerns the unbalanced diets of so many Japanese who skip breakfast,3 yet consume too many fatty foods and ready-made meals available at convenience stores, and have developed overweight and skinniness, which has become a problem for young Japanese women in particular.4 In order to address such food-related health problems, MAFF released the “Basic Law on Food Education” (shokuiku kihonhô) in 2005, which aims to provide information about healthy food choices and the preparation of food to the Japanese public, including parents and educators. The law also stipulates that farmers, fishermen and food-related businesses take on greater responsibility in providing information about food and nutrition to the Japanese public. The following excerpt taken from the official English website of the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (MAFF) documents the many challenges Japan 3. The Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare (MHLW) provides information about men and women who skip breakfast (chôshoku kesshoku) in a yearly survey on health and nutrition of the Japanese population. According to the results of this survey, skipping breakfast has especially become an issue for men and women in their 20s and particularly for men in their 30s. 24.9% of all women in the age group from 20-29 skip breakfast, whereas 28.6% of all men in their 20s and 30.2% of all men in the age group from 30–39 do not eat breakfast. (Heisei 19nen Kokumin kenkô eiyô chôsa kekka no gaiyô [Overview of the results of the survey on health and nutrition in the Japanese population for the year 2007], http:// www.mhlw.go.jp/houdou/2008/12/dl/h1225-5k.pdf, accessed on September 17, 2009). 4. There seems to be a tendency for more men to be overweight and for younger women to be underweight. According to data collected by the MHLW, 21.7 % of women in their 20s are considered to be underweight (Body Mass Index BMI < 18.5) whereas 33.7% of men in their 40s are considered to be overweight (Body Mass Index BMI ≧25) (Heisei 19nen Kokumin kenkô eiyô chôsa kekka no gaiyô, http:// www.mhlw.go.jp/houdou/2008/04/dl/h0430-2g.pdf, accessed on September 16, 2009) 117 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways is currently facing in terms of food security and food safety: Behind the law, there’re a variety of food and nutrition issues such as a lack of proper concern for food; an increase in irregular and nutritionally unbalanced meals; a rise in obesity and lifestylerelated diseases; an excessive desire for being slim especially among young females; outbreak of a series of incidents related to food safety; over-dependency on food from abroad; and, loss of traditional food culture in a globalization movement. Some might criticize that eating is such a personal thing that government shouldn’t regulate by a law. However, Japanese situation over food has already reached to a crisis point, and that a law had to be enacted in order to address these issues. (MAFF 2009c) The second issue is MAFF’s attempt to raise Japan’s food self-sufficiency rate by proclaiming a return to domestic food products which is one of the underlying reasons for initiating the campaign Food Action Nippon. MAFF seeks to provide an incentive for Japanese people to buy local food products and to develop a greater consciousness for a distinct Japanese food culture as part of Japanese national identity and to counterbalance the high dependency on food imports by returning to domestic food products. As the above quotation of the video “Eat Japanese” illustrates, a change in eating habits is clearly associated with a return to an indigenous food fare. The overtones of Food Action Nippon are quite nationalistic. The name Food Action Nippon as opposed to Food Action Nihon reflects a high consciousness of national identity. The ambitious aim of Food Action Nippon is to raise Japan’s food self-sufficiency rate from the current 40% to 45% by the year 2015. This goal is to be achieved through three different approaches. First, Food Action Nippon, also known under the name “Oishii Campaign” [Tasty Campaign] has formed ties with approximately 150 promotion partners in the private industry and non-governmental organizations. Among these partners are department stores and convenience-store enterprises such as Lawson and Seven Eleven. Slow Food Japan is also one of Food Action Nippon’s promotion partners. The aim of this co-operation with food companies and non-governmental organizations is to create regional networks with producers and to expand the distribution of their products. The motto of Food Action Nippon is ‘the visible producer’ (kao ga mieru seisansha), a producer whose products are visible, reliable and of high quality—in short, a producer that consumers can trust and relate to. Second, Food Action Nippon has been expanding its campaigns through printed media, on TV, and also through the Internet.5 Third, in addition to the presence of the organization in various media, Food Action Nippon organizes sales of regional agricultural products (chihô kokusan) with a current emphasis on the KantôRegion. It is important to note that Food Action Nippon does not sell its own products 5. For example see http://shokuryo.jp/index.html 118 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region but seeks to strengthen ties between producers and consumers in order to expand distribution networks. These promotion and sales efforts currently remain limited to domestic food products, including regional agricultural products. Despite the government’s efforts to make domestic food products more attractive, the possibility of becoming independent of imported foods may prove to be wishful thinking. Japan currently has a low calorie-based food self-sufficiency rate of 40% and remains highly dependent upon the import of foreign food products. The United States and China are Japan’s major food suppliers, followed by Australia. According to statistics compiled by the Japan External Trade Organization (JETRO) based on data of the Ministry of Finance (MOF) for the first half of the year 2006, Japan imported 22.9% of its food from the United States of America and 16.8% from China, followed by 8.1% from Australia (JETRO 2008). The dependency on food imports is reflected in Japan’s low self-sufficiency rate, which showed a gradual decline from 78% in 1961 to 50% in 1987 and reached a record low of 37% in 1993 (MAFF 2009b). As of 2003, Japan had the lowest self-sufficiency rate among the major industrialized countries according to self-sufficiency rates data compiled by MAFF. For example, the U.S. had a self-sufficiency rate of 128% while Australia’s self-sufficiency rate was at 237%. Data for the self-sufficiency rates of other industrialized countries were as follows: Canada 145%, France 122%, Germany 84%, Italy 62%, the Netherlands 58%, Spain 89%, Sweden 84%, Switzerland 49%, and Great Britain 70% (MAFF 2009b). One reason for the decline of food self-sufficiency can be seen in the decline of farm households since the beginning of Japan’s high economic growth. During this period, the number of farm households decreased from 5.4 million households in 1970 to 3.3 million households in 1998 (Rath 2007, 486). Correspondingly, the number of farmers declined from 37.7 million farmers in 1950 to 14.8 million farmers in 1998 (Mulgan 2000, 3). In short, farming has become a much less attractive vocation than in times past. Another reason for Japan’s low food self-sufficiency rate is the diversification of food-consumption practices, in particular a gradual shift from rice consumption—Japan’s major staple food—to an increased consumption of wheat and meat products. According to MAFF, the share of rice in the daily diet has decreased from 48.3% in 1960 to 30.1% in 1980. In the year 2004, the share of rice amounted to only 23.4% of the daily diet of a Japanese person. At the same time, the consumption of cooking oil and fat rose from 4.6% in 1960 to 14.2% in 2004 (MAFF 2009b; Suematsu 2008: 44-46). These shifts in nutrition can be traced back to the U.S. Food Aid Program that introduced milk and wheat products into the Japanese diet as a major component of school lunches (kyûshoku) for children. The shift from a rice-based diet to a diet centered on bread and milk marked a major shift in the eating habits of an entire generation (Cwiertka 2006; Schmidtpott 1998). A second major shift in eating habits occurred at the beginning of the 1970s when fast food chains, such as 119 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways McDonald’s, became increasingly popular in a very short period of time. A Legal Framework and Enhanced Visibility of Food Production to Ensure Food Safety A further issue of concern to the Japanese government is the matter of food safety. In recent years, Japan has been plagued by a number of food scandals. In the winter of 2008, Japan was shaken by a food poisoning scandal over frozen dumplings (gyôza) imported from a Chinese company (Ministry of Labor 2008; Yoshida 2008). This case is just one example in a long series of recent food scandals that involved a number of both foreign and Japanese food companies. In January 2007, the Japanese confectioner Fujiya had to halt its production after admitting the repeated use of expired ingredients and the mislabeling of “consume by” dates for its products. In the same year, an investigation of the prefectural government revealed that the confectioner Akafuku, based in Mie Prefecture, had falsified production dates of its popular bean-jam sweets (Japan Times Online, March 2, 2007 and October 21, 2007). Despite the fact that these food scandals only partially involved Japanese food companies, Japanese consumers tend to equate food safety (shokuhin anzen) with the consumption of domestic products (kokusan). The scandal involving Chinese dumplings confirmed the fears of many Japanese consumers that imported Chinese food products contained pesticides. A telephone survey conducted by Kyodo News on February 9 and 10, 2008 revealed that 76% of the respondents intended not to use Chinese products after this incident (Japan Times Online, February 11, 2008). In this regard two reasons for the supposedly greater safety of domestic products are noteworthy. The first reason is the existence of food-related laws that assure food safety in Japan, such as the Basic Law of Food Safety (shokuhin anzen kijun-hô), which ensures investigations of food products. This comprehensive legal framework suggests trustworthiness. Second, as mentioned earlier, the Japanese government seeks to invoke trust in domestic food products by making food processing and the origin of food products more transparent and visible. A producer in your immediate vicinity who you personally know invokes trust. In order to establish trust, Food Action Nippon aims to convince Japanese citizens of the safety of domestic products by establishing personal ties between domestic food producers and food consumers. The use of the term “citizen movement” aims to establish a feeling of solidarity among the Japanese population, whereas a more direct order to change eating habits from the government might provoke rejection amongst the Japanese. Rather than enforce a change of eating habits in a direct way, the government set up Food Action Nippon in order to establish personal ties with Japanese consumers through promotion partners that serve as a link between the government and the population. 120 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region In a similar effort to make food production chains more transparent, MAFF has introduced a food traceablity system which mandates beef traceability since 2003 and recommends the implementation of a traceability system for other food products as well (Hall 2008). Slow Food—Advocating the Local on a Global Basis I have shown that the Japanese government uses a variety of approaches towards changing the population’s eating habits by conducting a food education campaign, a campaign to raise the food self-sufficiency, and through introducing a food traceability system. One example of a popular movement advocating a return to local food products is the non-governmental organization (NGO) Slow Food movement, which I defined earlier as a transnational advocacy network that maintains close ties to the Italian mother organization. Albeit the objective of providing information about local foodways is similar in the case of both movements, Food Action Nippon and Slow Food differ in terms of their perceptions of food self-sufficiency. Whereas Food Action Nippon is especially concerned with enhancing the level of national food security and reducing the population’s lifestyle-related health problems, Slow Food aims to enhance the quality of lifestyles by highlighting food as a way to experience conviviality and pleasure. Members of the Slow Food movement advocate an overall slower pace of life and to this end they aim to preserve regional cuisines that are in danger of vanishing. The preservation of local heritages illustrates the historical dimension as well as a consciousness of the need to protect a country’s indigenous foods. In other words, Slow Food invites people to connect with their local food heritage and re-think their conventional eating habits and living patterns while emphasizing the pleasures of (sharing) food. The symbol of Slow Food is a snail, which represents slowness and prudence. Slow Food originated in the small town called Bra in Piedmont, Italy in 1986 and is strongly centered on the principles of founder Carlo Petrini (Petrini 2001; Petrini and Padovani 2005). The organization is rapidly growing and has a multifaceted structure. There are currently more than 83,000 members in over 100 countries worldwide (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 131-132). As of 2005, Slow Food had 38,000 members in Italy. The United States followed with almost 15,000 members, and third was Germany with approximately 7,500 members, followed by Switzerland with 3,800 members (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 132). Members are organized in local “convivia” where they coordinate a variety of food-related activities, such as wine and food tastings, food fairs and public lectures in order to provide information about local foods (including cultivation techniques and special ways of preparation). Participants in the convivia also conduct “taste education” in high schools, for example, the planting of a school 121 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways garden. One of the main tasks of the convivia is to establish close ties between food producers, co-producers and distributors of foods. Members of the convivia also give advice to food producers on how to improve the marketing and distribution of their products with the aim of increasing the consciousness of consumers for regional products in their immediate vicinity. Slow Food has established the “Ark of Taste” project to protect endangered regional foods that are at risk of dying out. To be included on the list of endangered products, Slow Food requires that the product in question needs to have an excellent taste and a long history. Moreover, the product needs to be of environmental, economic, and historic relevance in the region of its cultivation. Also, the product should be cultivated on a small scale and must be at risk of dying out. Slow Food has additionally set up three criteria that prohibit products from being listed in the Ark of Taste: (1) the product cannot be genetically modified, (2) the product shall not have a commercial brand name or trade mark, (3) after being enlisted as endangered, the product must be clearly marked with the snail, the logo of Slow Food.6 Moreover, the organization conducts the Terra Madre event, which can be described as a global meeting of food producers, such as farmers and cooks. So far, two events have been held, the second one in October 2006 (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 163-174). In 2004, the organization has also entered the educational sector by establishing the University of Gastronomic Sciences where students can obtain a two year education in gastronomy, food culture and farming methods (Petrini and Padovani 2005, 147-162). Slow Food Japan—The Local Expression of a Transnational Advocacy Network Despite the transnational character of the Slow Food Movement, it is in fact “local” food products that Slow Food aims to safeguard. In Japan, Slow Food expresses its local organizational status through 44 convivia with locations ranging from Hokkaido, in the north of Japan, to Japan’s most southern province, Okinawa. Slow Food Japan maintains close ties with the mother organization, which in turn acts as an advisor on structure and administration. Slow Food Japan was launched in 1998 and currently has approximately 2,000 members.7 Slow Food Japan is actively enhancing local knowledge about food in several ways. First, Slow Food Japan seeks to protect regional cuisines and regional agricultural products. As mentioned, the organization’s “Ark of Taste” (aji no hakobune) is intended to safeguard various endangered regional foods. As of February 2008, there are currently 22 products in Japan that are listed in the Ark of Taste as products that are on the verge of 6. The Ark of Taste (Aji no hakobune [aruka]), Unpublished news release, Slow Food Japan, February 20, 2007. 7. These data are taken from the following website: http://www.slowfoodjapan.net/new.html, accessed on March 5, 2007. 122 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region vanishing. A few of these products are named below. Haretsu corn, (Hachiretsu tômorokoshi), Hokkaido Long grilled goby, (Nagatsura no yaki haze), Miyagi Prefecture Amarume Green Onion, (Amarume negi), Miyagi Prefecture Dried persimmons, (Dôjô hachiya kaki), Gifu Prefecture Masakari pumpkin, (Masakari kabocha), Hokkaido8 Second, Slow Food Japan conducts a number of Slow Food festivals and food fairs in order to give local producers a chance to introduce their food products to a wider audience through sample tastings. Similar to the governmental initiative Food Action Nippon, Slow Food aims to provide education about food products such as soybeans, tofu and miso and the various ways of preparation through lectures, videos, sample tastings, games and simple cooking as part of these events. An additional similarity between Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan is that food fairs are conducted by both organizations on a regular basis. Food Action Nippon has conducted the food fair “Feel Good Japan” while Slow Food holds a fair every year in Yokohama under a different theme such as rice (2007) and miso (2008). Similar food fairs are also held on a regional basis such as the Slow Food Festival in the rural town Kesennuma in the northern part of Miyagi prefecture in February 2007 (Yomiuri Shimbun, February 15, 2007). These fairs are open to the public and attract visitors who are eager to try a number of different local foods. Though the goals and objectives of the governmental campaign Food Action Nippon and the popular movement Slow Food are similar, they differ in terms of structure, purposes and perception of the globalization of food. Both organizations aim to provide information to the public about nutritional habits and seek to counterbalance the globalization of food practices that have, in their view, led to alarming concerns regarding food security, food safety and more recently health issues. Both organizations implore its members and member countries to return to domestic and regional food products and to reconsider unhealthy eating habits. Yet whereas Food Action Nippon as a state campaign is more concerned with the alarming consequences of low food self-sufficiency and the rise of food and lifestyle-related health problems among the Japanese population, Slow Food seeks to safeguard an indigenous food fare linked to local heritage. 8. Source: http://www.slowfoodjapan.net/ark/item_index.html. Accessed on September 16, 2009. 123 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways Raising the Self-sufficiency Rate through Association with National Identity The significance of the activities of both Food Action Nippon and the Slow Food Movement lies in the fact that current problems concerning food security, food safety and lifestyle-related health problems are used to invoke a revived sense of national identity expressed through food. Further significance lies in the fact that the Japanese government has not only issued legislation, but seeks to intervene in the eating habits of Japanese citizens. Such campaigns as the shokuiku initiative and the Food Action Nippon initiative are of very recent nature and demonstrate the willingness of the Japanese government to take a more active role in shaping the personal habits of its people in order to avoid long-term health problems of the population and to ensure greater independence from foreign food imports. This active role of the Japanese government is becoming increasingly intertwined with the efforts of such non-governmental organizations as Slow Food, which fully supports Food Action Nippon. I have argued in this essay that the term “movement,” as applied to Food Action Nippon and the Slow Food Movement, needs to be redefined. Food Action Nippon is a state campaign that seeks to initiate a movement through the cooperation with foodpromotion partners in the effort to change the population’s eating habits, the Slow Food Movement can be more accurately defined as a transnational advocacy network that operates globally but paradoxically emphasizes a return to local food fare. Further research is needed to address the redefinition and the reinterpretation of these movements and their mutual efforts to act as a counterforce to globalization. In the future, it will be of importance to observe whether the Japanese government will maintain its active role in trying to influence the eating habits of the Japanese population, and if that is the case, whether there will be increased cooperation between the government and non-governmental organizations in their attempts to ensure food safety and food security. A “Buy Local” campaign is certainly not the key solution to raising Japan’s selfsufficiency rate. The current objective of raising Japan’s self-sufficiency rate by only 5% by 2015 makes it obvious that the Japanese government only expects minor changes to occur over a longer time period. A major upswing of the self-sufficiency rate would require other measures such as more efficient use of mass production systems. The “Buy Local” campaign seeks to increase the consciousness of Japanese consumers for domestic food products and regional agricultural products available in the immediate vicinity through associations with national identity. The disadvantage of such measures as “Eat Japanese” is the fact that the growth of diversification 124 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region within Japanese society could be reduced, and new protectionist measures could evolve. Appendix The following images show five of the altogether 22 products that are listed as endangered food products on the Ark of Taste of Slow Food Japan. Except for the persimmon fruits (Dôjô hachiya kaki), the following four images were taken from the websitie of Slow Food Japan, http://www.slowfoodjapan.net/ark/item_index.html, last accessed on September 22, 2009. The source of the image of the persimmon fruits (Dôjô hachiya kaki) is the following: http://www.fruit-ishii.co.jp/fruit/hatiyakaki/ hatiya.htm, last accessed on September 22, 2009 Amarume Green Onion (Amarume negi) Haretsu Corn (Hachiretsu tômorokoshi), Hokkaido 125 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways Masakari Pumpkin (Masakari kabocha), Hokkaido Dried and Grilled Goby (Nagatsura no yaki haze), Miyagi Prefecture Persimmon Fruits (Dôjô hachiya kaki), Gifu Prefecture, 126 Food Action Nippon and Slow Food Japan: The Role of Two Citizen Movements in the Rediscovery of Local Foodways References Cwiertka, Katarzyna. 2006. Modern Japanese Cuisine. Food, Power and National Identity. London: Reaktion Books. Goodwin, Jeff, and James M. Jasper, eds. 2003. The Social Movements Reader. Cases and Concepts. Oxford: Blackwell. Hall, Derek. 2008. “Food with a Visible Face: Food Traceability in Japan and Private Governance of the Food System.” Paper presented at the Institute of Social Science, University of Tokyo. 3 December 2008 in Tokyo, Japan. Hidaka, Atsuko, ed. 2008. Shokuhin no karakuri 10. “Kokusan” “anshin” no tabemono ha kore da. Bessatsu Takarajima Series. Tokyo: Takarajima-sha. Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (MAFF). 2009a. http://www.maff.go.jp/e/grv2422/ accessed on 22 April 2009. Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries (MAFF). 2009b. Shuyô senshinkoku no shokuryô-ritsu (1960-2003). http://www.maff.go.jp/j/zyukyu/zikyu_ritu/013.html. Accessed on February 10, 2009. Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (MAFF). 2009c. What is Shokuiku (Food Education)? http://www.maff.go.jp/e/topics/pdf/shokuiku.pdf. Accessed on February 12, 2009. Japan External Trade Organization (JETRO). 2008. http://www.jetro.go.jp/jpn/stats/trade/ pdf/20052006_import_2.pdf. Accessed on February 12, 2008. Japan Times. 2008. Avoid Hysteria over Food. February 11, 2008. Japan Times. 2008. 76% plan to avoid Chinese food. ‘Gyoza’ contamination takes toll on products’ popularity. February 11, 2008. Japan Times. 2008. Late Response to Food Poisoning. February 3, 2008. Japan Times. 2007. Fujiya restarts sweets production after sour month. March 2, 2007. Japan Times. 2007. Akafuku hit by fresh food safety allegations. October 21, 2007. Keck, Margaret E., and Kathryn Sikkink. 1998. Activists Beyond Borders: Transnational Advocacy Networks in International Politics. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press. Petrini, Carlo and Gigi Padovani. 2005. Carlo Petrini in Converation with Gigi Padovani. Slow Food Revolution. A New Culture for Eating and Living. New York: Rizzoli. Rath, Eric C. 2007. Rural Japan and Agriculture. In A Companion to Japanese History, ed. William M. Tsutsui, 477-92. Malden: Blackwell Publishing. Schmidtpott, Katja. 1998. Fast Food, Convenience-Produkte und sozialer Wandel in Japan. Marburg: Förderverein Marburger Japan-Reihe. Shimamura, Natsu. 2000. Surô fûdona jinsei! Itaria no shokutaku kara hajimaru [Slow Food Life. Starting from the Italian Dinner Table]. Tokyo: Shinchosha. Shokuhin anzen kijun-hô. 2009. http://law.e-gov.go.jp/htmldata/H15/H15HO048.html. Accessed on April 17, 2009. Slow Food Japan. 2007. http://www.slowfoodjapan.net/new.html . Accessed on March 5, 2007. Suematsu, Hiroyuki 2008. Shokuryô jikyu-ritsu no ‘naze.’ Dôshite hikui to ikenai no ka? Tokyo: Fusosha Shinsho. Tarrow, Sidney. 1998. Power in Movement. Social Movements and Contentious Politics, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Yoshida, Reiji. 2008. 10 sick after eating tainted ‘gyoza’ from China. Japan Times, January 31. 127 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 8 Eating the West and Beating the Rest: Culinary Occidentalism and Urban Soft Power in Asia’s Global Food Cities James Farrer Copyright © 2010 by James Farrer All rights reserved 128 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Global culinary cities and the transnational geography of haute cuisine The prestigious Michelin Red Guide for 2009 awarded Tokyo’s restaurants with a total 227 stars, compared with 59 awarded in the guide to New York and 40 in the guide to Hong Kong. Journalists rushed to proclaim Tokyo the “focus of the culinary world” (Joe 2008) or “the undisputed world leader in fine dining” (Lewis 2007). As such comments show, cities compete to be top food cities, but what actually goes into to making a city a good “food city,” or at the very top end, a “culinary global city”? In an interview, Zheng Tao the CEO of Shanghai’s leading online restaurant guide, Dianping.com, argues that Shanghai is destined for culinary leadership: I believe that Shanghai restaurants are some of the top in the world and that in 5 to 10 years Shanghai will have the best managed restaurant industry in the whole world. Shanghainese people love to dine out and they are very demanding. It’s survival of the fittest. (Mo 2008) Although Zheng focuses on business competition in making for a culinary global city, sources I interviewed emphasized the quality of suppliers, attitudes of financiers, training of chefs, and the cultural knowledge of consumers. Below I emphasize the role of city governments and their policies of cultural self-promotion. From a wider perspective, I want to suggest a different type of question, which is why are we now discussing global culinary culture in terms of competition among cities, and what are cultural politics at stake in this discussion? This research is based on interviews with key actors, magazine articles, secondary sources, and observations from years of living in both Shanghai and Tokyo. I aim not at a detailed historical account of the international food scenes in each city, but a general comparative overview that explores aspects of globalizing culinary geography that are often less obvious or salient in studies focusing on European and American cities, including questions of the cultural politics of foreign foodways in a postcolonial setting. This paper is an exploration of the global culinary geography from a multi-scalar point of view (Sassen 2007), looking at the The Australian owned Commune Café in the Tianzifang District of Shanghai Photo by Liu Fang geography of western restaurant cuisines 129 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities in one dominant culinary city—Tokyo—and in one rising “global food city”—Shanghai. As Sassen points out, globalization produces a collapse of spatial scales, with global geographies simultaneously imbedded in local urban geographies. I emphasize that these global-local geographies also have to be contextualized in global-local histories that produce uneven landscapes of cultural globalization in urban space. First I want to provide some basic comparative information about the culinary field in both cities, focusing on the question of internationalization. Both Tokyo and Shanghai lay claim to a status as national culinary capitals, though only Tokyo is regularly acclaimed as a “culinary global city.” By quantitative measures, Shanghai and Tokyo are both impressive in terms of the number of restaurants. Japanese government statistics for 2004 count 97,236 eating and drinking establishments in Tokyo, of which 33,772 are considered restaurants, including 5,752 “western restaurants,” or 17% of all restaurants1 (Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications 2004). Shanghai government statistics for 2004 show 30,800 catering businesses (SASS 2005). According to a US Department of Agriculture report, roughly half of Shanghai’s catering establishments could be classified as “main meal restaurants,” including “over one thousand” western restaurants (USDA 2004).2 Although different ways of gathering statistics and differing average sizes of restaurants make these numbers hard to compare, both official statistics and informal sources indicate Tokyo has a substantial quantitative edge in the total number of restaurants and in the proportion of western and other foreign restaurants. Qualitative differences are more difficult to measure. While part of the perceived gap between the two cities is an outcome of Tokyo’s longer history of economic globalization and greater per capita incomes, many observers of the culinary cultures of Shanghai and Tokyo point to differences in the cultures of production and consumption. Based on my interviews with chefs and restaurant owners in Tokyo and Shanghai, these differences include: (1) an image in Tokyo of the cooking profession as a craft, in comparison with China where it is still seen as simple labor; (2) the prevalence in Tokyo of the chef-owner-operated boutique restaurant serving highquality foods to small numbers of customers in comparison to large-scale chain restaurants prevalent in Shanghai; (3) the prevalence in Tokyo of customers with cosmopolitan gourmet tastes, particularly middle-class women, in comparison with 1. The category of “restaurants” does not include eateries, such as small food stands, Japanese noodle shops, sushi shops, fast food hamburger shops, or cafes. In addition, there are roughly 40,000 bars, nightclubs and drinking spots that usually have food menus. 2. The report cites Shanghai government statistics, but I have so far been unable to locate official government statistics that break down restaurants by categories. According to one study of the 500 most popular restaurants on the most popular online restaurant review site, 5.7% were “western restaurants,” roughly equal to the number of popular Sichuan restaurants. 大众点评网发布2007年上海、杭州餐饮行业分析报告 http://tech.sina.com.cn/roll/2008-04-07/1907625280.shtml 130 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region the prevalence in Shanghai of men on business expense accounts; (4) the common practice of eating western and other foreign foods at home in Japan in contrast with the rarity of foreign food consumption among Chinese; (5) the general resistance of some Chinese customers to foreign food ways. In particular, I was surprised that Chinese chefs in even prestigious western restaurants often ate very little nonChinese food in their spare time, and none of them actually grew up eating western foods. In contrast, many more Japanese chefs have grown up eating western foods, and many have spent years studying in the West. Although too complex to deal with in this essay, almost all of these differences are related to the greater transnational flows in both the producer and consumer components of the culinary field in Tokyo, in comparison to Shanghai. In general, the advent of new global food cities indicates an increase in transnational culinary flows and perhaps the advent of a single global culinary field, but this discussion also seems to indicate a new emergent organization of highend restaurant cultures, one increasingly disconnected from nations and regions and more focused on a handful of global cities. This global field of haute cuisine is still “French” in many respects but increasingly eclectic in its flavors and geographically dispersed. The produce may be local – and indeed an attentiveness to local products is evident nearly everywhere (see Assmann in this publication)—but customers, chefs and recipes are not tied to localities. Restaurant entrepreneurs, star chefs and skilled restaurant workers now circulate among global cities (Ferguson and Zukin 1993; also see Ceccarini in this publication). We also may be seeing a growing disjuncture between national and urban culinary cultures. The best example of this delinking may be London, with its celebrated global cuisine, and England, with its reputation, deserved or not, as a culinary backwater. Also, when we look at the contents of high-end international restaurant cuisine, we seem to be moving from a system defined through national cuisines (with French invariably at the top) to a global cuisine no longer centered Mollica di Pane, an Italian bakery in the Tianzifang district of Shanghai Photo by James Farrer in the West, no longer exclusively French, and increasingly dominated by star chefs whose reputations are based both on creativity, including a blending of national styles (Leschziner 2007), and an international resume, especially a history of working for established chefs in various countries (Ferguson and Zukin 1993). Although the insistence on an established pedigree means that the transition from a Paris-based dominance of French cuisine is not complete, the advent of non-French star chefs based in cities such as London and New York and Tokyo heralds the advent of a new order of global food, though still based on French kitchen organization and techniques. In 131 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities this system, travelling between global cities is the new pathway to career success, or even stardom. In sum, the flows of culinary talents, culinary knowledge, and even customers for high end restaurants, seems to be increasingly transnational rather than limited to national spaces, very unevenly distributed, and most densely channeled through a few global culinary cities. Culinary Occidentalism and postcolonial foodscapes in Asian global cities Shanghai’s Bund in the 1940s Source: http://www. earnshaw.com/shanghai-ed-india/tales/tbuil01.htm Globalized urban restaurant cultures should not be taken as evidence of a “flat culinary world” of homogenized foodways, nor of an “end of food history” in which culinary nationalisms and antagonisms no longer matter. On the contrary, the hierarchies of culinary global cities are evidence of an increasingly stratified global culture, with forms of cultural capital, not unlike economic capital, functioning as a global currency that is very unequally distributed. Moreover, global food culture also retains an Occidental bias in rankings and organization, with the Michelin guide as a most obvious example. For much of the non-western world food globalization is tied to a history of colonial domination and resistance, with more recent American-led food 132 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region globalization decried as “McDonaldization” (Ritzer 2004) and “Coca-Globalization” (Foster 2008). As high cuisine goes global, there is no escaping that global cuisine is still postcolonial cuisine for much of the world, i.e., the foods of former colonial masters or subjects. We must thus take into account both postcolonial foodscapes— local geographies of food shaped by a history of colonization and being colonized (sometimes both)—and culinary Occidentalism—the cultural politics of westernized foodways, either as a means of appropriating western cultural authority, or as a means of rejecting it. Both culinary postcoloniality and culinary Occidentalism are evident in the development of a globalized food scene in Asian global cities in ways that would not be observed in New York or London, for example. The past century and a half of culinary developments in Tokyo and Shanghai represent parallel and contrasting cases in culinary Occidentalism and culinary postcoloniality. Modern Japanese cuisine was a product of deliberate culinary Occidentalism during the Meiji Period, in which the Meiji Emperor was dressed in western garb and fed western foods (Cwiertka 2007). As in China, the newly adopted western practice of eating beef was a potent symbol of nationalist “self strengthening,” simultaneously modernist and barbaric in the eyes of Buddhists in both Japan and China. Beyond meat eating, many elements of modern Japanese cuisine are an outcome of militarization of Japanese society and the spread of military canteen foods such as Anglo-Indian curry rice and yakisoba (Chinese-style fried wheat noodles) (Cwiertka 2007). Postcolonial contributions to Japanese cuisine also include yakiniku (grilled meats) from Korea. Urban food cultures also were impacted by more local developments, such as foreign hotels in Yokohama and Tsukiji in Tokyo (Cwiertka 2007). The culinary geography of postwar Tokyo was radically influenced by the American occupation. Former Japanese military areas such as Roppongi and Harajuku were occupied by U.S. forces and emerged as centers of American style and fashion during this period, simultaneously mapping anti-American and proAmerican sentiments onto the same urban spaces (Yoshimi 2007). This remapped geography of Occidentalized western Tokyo included one of Tokyo’s first Italian restaurants, opened by an Italian American former GI at the central crossing in Roppongi (see Ceccarini in this publication), an area still known for fashionable foreign cuisine. For most of the period following World War II, Tokyo’s food scenes were heavily influenced by American models, including the advent of American fast food giant, McDonalds Monument to the first cow in Japan to be slaughtered for human consumption in Shimoda Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ File: Butchers_monument_shimoda_2007-02-24.jpg in 1971 (Ohnuki-Tierney 1997). With the rise of Japan as the world’s second largest economy in the 1980s, however, western food became much more European, reflecting both greater 133 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities affordability of luxury products but also a subtle strategy for transcending post-war Americanization by Europeanizing tastes. By the end of the twentieth century Tokyo was becoming widely known as a cosmopolitan food city, while Japanese foodways have themselves gained the status of high cuisine (Bestor 2005; also see Imai in this publication). Department stores featured luxury European food items along with Japanese traditional goods (Creighton 1992). Department stores featured joint ventures with European patissiers and chocolatiers that represented an increasingly salient culinary star system, even for take-home items such as chocolates. Superstar foreign chefs were also invited into joint venture restaurants by Japanese F&B conglomerates. Another distinctive aspect of Japanese culinary Occidentalism can be seen in the particular hierarchies of foreign cuisine in Japan, in which European cuisines still have greater prestige than cuisines labeled as “ethnic” (esunikku), a term than in Japan usually refers to South and Southeast Asian cuisines. Unlike the association of U.S. ethnic foods with immigrant communities (see Ray in this publication), the meanings of ethnic food in Japan is largely associated with tourism (see Yoshino in this publication) and “imagined nostalgia” for a past simpler lifestyle that still than can be found in neighboring Asian countries (Iwabuchi 2002). Japanese tend to seek in ethnic foods the exotic “night market” feeling of tourism rather than the complex tastes and refined environments of high cuisine (usually Japanese, Western, or Chinese). We thus find in contemporary Tokyo, complex and varied geographies of culinary Occidentalism and culinary Orientalism inscribed with the legacies of Japan’s past as both colonizer (in Asia) and colonized (by the U.S.). Shanghai also opened up to western culinary culture under the impact of colonization, and in the case of Shanghai more intrusively and abruptly than in Tokyo. Westerners claimed concessions in East China after the Opium Wars in 1840-42 and brought with them western foodways. At first the Chinese were not particularly impressed with western tastes, but they were impressed with western power, and culinary Occidentalism developed in China, as in Japan, as a way of appropriating western power through the consumption of western foods. Culinary Occidentalism was especially important to Shanghai residents’ claims of cultural stature for their rising city. As Mark Swisloki writes, “the association of Shanghai with Western food culture cemented Shanghai’s status as the vanguard of China’s engagement with foreign culture” (Swislocki 2008, 125). We thus already see in the nineteenth century that claims of urban culinary prestige may rest on ties to distant and exotic places. Shanghai’s numerous western restaurants in the late nineteenth century, known as fancaiguan, were often run by Cantonese entrepreneurs who capitalized on early associations with the West. Fuzhou Road in the International Concession became a culinary contact zone in which properly consuming foreign food was a sign of modernity. In particular, western food was a form of gendered consumption associated with trend-setting courtesans and nightlife. The focus was on 134 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region the “glittering décor,” “ornate,” “elegance and cleanliness” of western restaurants rather than the exotic and perhaps unpleasant tastes (Swislocki 2008, 133). Like dance halls, amusement parks, and department stores, western food, also became an important feature of Shanghai’s Jazz-Age consumer culture, including western restaurants that were run by émigrés as well as by Chinese (Chen 2006). By the 1930s, eating at least occasionally in western restaurants or cafes had become a regular feature of Shanghai life, even for the middle classes. Western restaurants influenced the styles of service and presentation at expensive Chinese restaurants, and some items of western cooking even penetrated into everyday household cuisine, including items such as “Russian soup” (Li 1994). Shanghai’s culinary Occidentalism was part of a much larger century-long confrontation with Western modernity characterized by radical reversals and unresolved tensions. Chen Xiaomei describes a two-sided rhetoric of Occidentalism in late twentieth century Chinese culture that also can be used to explain the cultural ambivalence surrounding Western food in contemporary China. Under Mao, an “official Occidentalism” was contrived that treated western culture as a negative expression of everything bad and oppressive about Western capitalism. In opposition to this trend, with the collapse of Maoist extreme, a new “anti-official Occidentalism” emerged which identified Western ways with modernization and openness (Chen 2002). The development of Chinese food culture since 1949 shows elements of both official (anti-western) and anti-official (pro-western) Occidentalism. After 1949 Shanghai’s international food culture was suppressed under socialist goals of food austerity, massification, and indigenization (Swislocki 2008). In contrast, after 1978 consuming western food once again became a way of affirming a cosmopolitan modern identity. This new trend of positive culinary Occidentalism developed in a vastly altered urban geography in which foreign-owned restaurants were completely absent and foreign foods were rare. Therefore, like the reemergence of ballroom dancing in the 1980s (see Farrer 2002), western food first reemerged in the 1980s as hand-me-downs from the Jazz Age, with remodeled “famous name” restaurants such as De Da and Hong Fang Zi (Red House, formerly Chez Louie) serving dishes vaguely recognizable as the generic western cuisine of a bygone area— steaks, soups, salads, cakes, soufflés and coffees. As in Japan, it was American fast food that was first embraced as a way of consuming contemporaneous western modernity. KFC opened up its first branch in Shanghai in 1988, though McDonalds did not arrive until 1994. Fast food chains became a space in which Chinese explored western modernity in the American vernacular of hamburger, pizza, fried chicken and clean bathrooms (Yan 2000, Lozada 2007, Watson 1997, Hsu 2005). Western-style fast foods especially appealed to children (Yan 2000, Lozada 2007), while employees learned work disciplines and styles of service that 135 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities seemingly integrated them into a modern market economy and allowed an imagined space for “self development” (Hsu 2005). As they have evolved over two decades, western fast food operations in China are also localizing their menus, management concepts, and the social uses of space, perhaps becoming—as in Hong Kong—an unremarkable feature of quotidian urban life, so localized that many consumers no longer recognize them as imports (Watson 1997, Liu 2008). Shanghai Starbucks mug as a symbol of fast food globalization and localization in Shanghai. Photo by James Farrer Despite the development of the fast food scene, Shanghai’s booming restaurant business in the 1990s was largely limited to regional Chinese cuisines. In the late 1980s modern western cuisine became available in a handful of newly opened foreign-managed hotel chains, and it was in these kitchens that a new generation of local Chinese chefs received their first training in western cooking techniques. Still, few Shanghainese ate at these hotel restaurants, and they did not constitute a cosmopolitan fine dining scene for the city. By most accounts Shanghai’s new public culture of fine dining can be traced back to the 1998 launching of the French restaurant, “M on the Bund,” the first attempt at international quality western cuisine to open outside a hotel. Australian owner Michelle Garnaut, who had already been running a successful French restaurant in Hong Kong, took the risk of opening a pricey French bistro in an old 1920s commercial building on Shanghai’s historic but moribund waterfront boulevard, known as the Bund. With spectacular views of the skyscrapers of the financial center rising on the opposite shore of the Huangpu River, “M” was a stunning success. A boom in fine dining began only after 2003, when a shopping, entertainment, and gallery complex named “Bund 3” opened next door to “M” in another 1920s office building that was completely rebuilt within the shell of the historic structure. The view of Pudong’s skyscrapers from Shanghai’s M on the Bund, the first independent high cuisine restaurant in Shanghai. Photo by Liu Fang Bund 3 involved an investment of over 80 million U.S. dollars and featured globally established restaurateurs, most notably the first Asian venture by star chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten, whose Michelin three star restaurant and several other highly regarded ventures in New York City, London and Paris have made him a star in the business of haute cuisine. One floor above “Jean Georges,” Australian chef David Laris opened his namesake restaurant in a space 136 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region of glistening white marble floors and counters. Both “Laris” and “Jean Georges” served cuisine that can be described as contemporary French haute cuisine, with a few largely symbolic nods to local Chinese traditions. One floor below, we find the “Whampoa Club,” where Hong Kong chef Jereme Leung produces elaborately researched “New Shanghai Cuisine” in an attempt to both resurrect the cuisine and tastes of Shanghai’s 1930s glory days as well as establish a style of modern presentation and service that matches the standard of the western stars who occupy the other floors of the building. Not the least of his innovations is his self-promotion as a “star chef,” including the sale of English and Chinese versions of his cookbooks, a nearly heretical idea in the secretive world of Chinese cooking. The commercial success of these high-priced ventures was widely taken as a sign that Shanghai was ready for international haute cuisine. New western restaurants have opened at many price levels, including mid-priced independent restaurants serving various national cuisines from around the world. Moreover, there has been a rush to construct Chinese restaurants whose service and innovativeness would justify similarly high prices. In this process, Western haute cuisine seemed to be transforming Chinese high cuisine rather than the other way around, a pattern reminiscent of the early twentieth century (Li 1994). Dessert at “Laris” in Shanghai’s exclusive Bund 3 Complex. Photo by Liu Fang The global restaurant scene that emerged in developments such as Bund 3 points to a highly salient geography of culinary Occidentalism and culinary postcoloniality in Shanghai. First, these restaurants are located in iconic sites in Shanghai’s old foreign concessions, including Shanghai’s waterfront boulevard known as the Bund, and the prestigious development known as Xintiandi. City planners and well-connected 137 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities overseas Chinese entrepreneurs have developed these sites to showcase the city as a global center, consciously reusing spaces with important symbolic value as centers of Shanghai’s previous life as a “global city” (Wasserstrom 2003), an example of what Suttles describes as the “cummulative texture of urban culture” (Suttles 1984). Shanghai’s re-imaging of itself as a global city has played enormously on postcolonial nostalgia, including architectural nostalgia (Ren 2008). Shanghainese identify quite positively with this Occidentalist urban culture, known as “hapai” (Yang 1992), represented in physical traces of the colonial era, including such spaces as the Bund. Many of Shanghai’s luxurious restaurants use remodeled private mansions from the 1920s and 1930s that consciously evoke a postcolonial nostalgia in both internal décor and exteriors. Shanghai’s “Jean Georges” in Shanghai’s exclusive Bund 3 Complex. Photo by James Farrer Shanghai’s culinary Occidentalism thus reveals a more conscious association with postcoloniality than in Tokyo, which perhaps explains, as well, the much stronger countervailing strains of culinary nationalism in Shanghai. In times of political tensions, foreign foodways often come under attack. During anti-American riots in 1999, McDonalds and KFC were the targets of protests. Similarly, Japanese restaurants were attacked in the 2005 anti-Japanese protests in Shanghai (Farrer 2005). At a more systemic level, foreign food chains are arguably subject to much stricter monitoring by the Chinese media than smaller Chinese competitors (Liu 2008). Culinary politics manifests itself in quotidian discourses as well. Although, a fashionable postcolonial nostalgia imbues the consumption of western foods with meanings of cosmopolitan style and exoticism, many Chinese consumers of western restaurants still revere the tastes of Chinese food as superior to all others. As in the nineteenth century, western restaurants are primarily discussed in terms of their environmental qualities, such as décor, atmosphere and service, rather than tastes. In other words, as a counter-weight to postcolonial nostalgia and positive culinary Occidentalism, a negative Occidentalism, or culinary nationalism, persists in Chinese responses to western culinary culture. Regardless of the basis of these claims, it 138 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region seems likely that food nationalism retards the spread of a cosmopolitan gourmet culture based on taste. In contrast, Japanese foodways seem more deeply penetrated by foreign tastes. The imagination of “Asian cuisine” as exotic and ethnic incorporates elements of postcoloniality, or nostalgia for Japan’s own past (Iwabuchi 2002), and for young Japanese customers in particular, consuming cheap spicy Nighttime view of Pudong skyscrapers from Shanghai’s “Jean Georges” in Shanghai’s exclusive Bund 3 Complex. Photo by James Farrer Asian foods represents the connections between food, fantasy and tourism that are increasingly common in all areas of the world (see Yoshino in this publication). There is an unreflective and casual mixing of Japanese, western and Asian foods in popular restaurant chains such as izakaya pubs and “family restaurants.” One reason given for these trends is the postwar hybridization of the Japanese diet in Japanese school lunches (Cwiertke 2008). Certainly, trends of Japanese culinary nationalism are evident in some movements to eat more locally produced foods (see Assmann in this publication), and in recent public scandals over food imports, especially from China. However, these trends do not seem to extend to a rejection of a foreign tastes, per se, so much as a sense of vulnerability centered on basic food products. There are also some similarities in the culinary Occidentalism in Tokyo and Shanghai. Perhaps the best example is the continued feminization of western food consumption. Since the nineteenth century, consuming western foods has been associated with the lifestyles of “modern girls” in Tokyo and Shanghai. Whether the courtesans of nineteenth century Shanghai (Swislocki 2008), the café waitresses of 1920s Tokyo (Tipton 2002), or the teenage girls who frequent McDonalds today (Yan 2000), foreign restaurants and cafes are a space of escape from foodways associated with patriarchal family structures. In both cities, high-end western restaurants still are associated with romance, fashion and feminine style, while traditional Postcolonial pleasures at Shanghai’s M on the Bund 10th Anniversary Party, an event attended by many of the long-term expatriates in the city. Photos by James Farrer 139 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities local foods are associated with family events and masculine drinking cultures. Consuming Western food is thus one of the strategies Japanese women have found to express their imagined longing (akogare) for an independent Western lifestyle (Kelsky 2001), a gendered form or culinary Occidentalism also found among young Shanghai women. While this discussion has shown A local television reporter interviewing a guest at the M on the Bund 10th Anniversary party. Photo by James Farrer the continued postcolonial mappings of urban foodscapes and foodways, culinary Occidentalism alone does not explain the new cultural forces pushing for the globalization of urban food cultures in twentyfirst century Asian cities. As described in the introduction of this essay, it seems we are entering a new age of interconnected global food cultures, but this is also an age in which urban foodways are tied to new forms of cultural politics associated with competition among cities and regions, rather than simply among nation states. Serving the global city: culinary soft power and urban soft power Behind the reporting on the Michelin guide is an undisguised discourse of competition among cities as cultural and culinary capitals. In particularly, cultural competition among Asian cities seems to have intensified. Beyond civic pride, there is a competition among cities to attract a “creative class” of designers, engineers and entrepreneurs that is perceived as both essential to economic development and also increasingly mobile across boundaries (Florida 2002). Most notably in Asia, Singapore has invested in riverside dining and nightlife zones, such as Boat Quay and Clarke Quay, in order to project a new image as a cool and creative metropolis, with a “buzz” that appeals to foreign talent (Goh 2007). Creating attractive urban nightlife and dining zones is increasingly perceived as an important element of what can be called urban soft power— which could be defined as the reputational pull of the city, The author admiring the Lychee dandelion on a stick by experimental chef Paul Pairet at Shanghai’s Jade on 36. Photo by Liu Fang including its image as an attractive place to live and do business. The term derives from the “soft power” concept developed by Joseph Nye (2004) to discuss the reputational and ideological 140 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region power of nation states, a discourse that seems to be increasing broadly in East Asia. Chinese and Korean academics and planners have employed the idea of “urban soft power”(城市软实力 chengshiruanshili /어반 소프트파워 o-ban soputu pa-wuo) to describe the complex set of cultural and human resources that make some cities more attractive places to live and invest than others. Shanghai’s mayor has been quoted as saying, “Shanghai’s future development depends on developing soft power, the central element of which is developing the service industries” (Zhang, Xie and Li 2007). There has even been a national survey comparing the “urban soft power” of various Chinese cities (Oriental Outlook 2008). Discussions of urban soft power suggest that the reputations of global cities are tied to the development of cultural and service industries, with reputations for good living and cultural “buzz.” Urban representations are increasingly developed in online media with a transnational reach, while focusing on the elements of life that are the least mobile and most unique, such as built spaces and local communities. As a companion term to urban soft power we can add the term culinary soft power, which can be defined as the acknowledged attractiveness and appeal of food culture that adheres to a nation, region or locality. The term “culinary soft power” has been used, for example to describe, the growing popularity of Japanese cuisine globally (Japan Society 2008). Clearly, France would have dominated the global “culinary soft power” rankings of nations for the past two centuries, with no close competitors. Asian governments seem to have become particularly conscious of national culinary soft power. With a eye on the global popularity of Japanese and Thai cuisine, the governments of Malaysia and Korea both have projects aimed at promoting the status of national cuisines abroad (Abu Bakar 2008; Yoshino in this publication). Korea, in particular has set an ambitious national goal of becoming one of the top five most popular global Culinary Suburbia in Shanghai, Slice Café near Dulwich Academy, operated by David Laris Photo by Liu Fang cuisines (Ro 2009). Partly in response to Korean government efforts to promote 141 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities national soft power, Japanese government working groups have included culinary culture in proposals to promote the “Japan brand” abroad (Intellectual Property Strategic Headquarters 2009). Trade groups and economic agencies also have attached the “soft power” discourse to the promotion of Japanese food exports (JETRO 2006; Shoku-bunka Suishin Kenkyu Kondan-kai 2005). The most infamous example of government involvement in promoting Japanese culinary culture abroad was the proposal by an agricultural minister to set up a system for certifying the authenticity of Japanese restaurants abroad (McNeil 2006). This proposal failed due to opposition both in Japan and overseas, but it points out the tensions inherent in exporting “national” cuisine while also attempting to monitor and control culinary authenticity and identity. Culinary soft power also is an important component of urban soft power, but cities seem to develop culinary reputations in ways that are quite distinct from the reputations of national cuisines. Indeed, urban culinary soft power seems to be based on nearly opposite principles to national culinary reputations. Whereas nations seek to Photo by Liu Fang develop reputations by exporting their cuisine, cities develop reputations for attracting the best chefs, vendors and clients from around the world. It is not necessary for a great chef to be from New York, to enhance the reputation of New York as culinary city. Indeed, it may be more significant that “Nobu” is a global chef first, and a New York chef secondly, and it is certainly not important that his food is “American” (see Imai in this publication). Tokyo tries to enhance its reputation as a global food capital by hosting events such as the “Tokyo Taste–World Summit of Gastronomy” in February 9-11, 2009—bringing in famous chefs from overseas. In any case, there are clearly both “push” and “pull” elements to culinary soft power, with national reputations benefiting more from culinary “push” (exporting national cuisine) and city reputations benefiting more from culinary “pull” (attracting foreign culinary talent). There are numerous other factors that establish the international culinary reputation, or culinary soft power, of a city. These include the activities of the state in promoting nightlife districts, the role of the food media, the tastes and types of consumers, and the accumulation of human and cultural capital among restaurant personnel. It is thus not inevitable that a financial capital will immediately become a culinary capital, although it is almost certain that many of these actors— entrepreneurs, urban promoters, media outlets, and customers—will aspire to make 142 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region it one. Clearly Tokyo is already a global culinary city, and arguably Shanghai is becoming one. In concluding this essay, I would like to outline some of the features of this new organization of global food culture as seen in these two cities, focusing on the transnational networks of both producers and consumers. At this intersection of transnational and local urban shape the foodscapes of Asian global cities. Global cuisine is increasingly defined by a highly mobile and entrepreneurial group of “star chefs.” As the example of Shanghai’s Bund 3 development illustrates, star chefs have become part of a package of retail development aimed at marketing a complete “lifestyle” to the transnational elites, including in the case of Bund 3, an art gallery as well as restaurants and an Armani clothing store. The presence of a star chef in a development such as Bund 3 simultaneously marks the space as prestigious locally and ties it to similar developments in a very small number of top-tier global cities. Like haute couture outlets, such as Armani, Louis Vuitton or Gucci, star chefs are lured to buildings in order to signal the value and status of the property to other potential tenants. If anything, in the networked hierarchy of global cities, the presence of a restaurant by a globally famous chef such as Joel Robuchon, Nobu Matsuhisa, Jean-Georges Vongerichten, or Gordon Ramsay is a greater mark of distinction than a Versace, or Gucci shop, which can be found now in many smaller cities. The artisanal quality of haute cuisine implies a uniqueness that cannot be easily transported or mimicked, while the name of a star chef paradoxically ensures a quality and reliability at the level of the original restaurants in Paris or New York. Locally branded producers of western food do play a significant role in Tokyo, including old names such as French cuisine chef Kiyomi Mikuni, but in Shanghai’s much younger international dining scene transnational ties remain essential, especially for head chefs. In contrast to Tokyo, there are no local Chinese celebrity chefs of western restaurants in Shanghai, and the kitchens of even mid-range western restaurants are almost all led by expatriate head chefs, despite the much greater costs associated with hiring a foreigner. The reasons for this reliance on expatriates include the low prestige of the cooking profession in China, the lack of exposure of Chinese chefs to western cuisine, and the association by customers (both Chinese and foreign) of western chefs with authenticity and skill (see Fung 2007). Even the chefs at the top Chinese restaurants are often expatriate Chinese from Hong Kong or Singapore. Jereme Leung, the acclaimed Chinese chef in the Bund 3 complex, hails from Hong Kong and made his reputation in Singapore. He pointed out the difficulties faced in raising the professional level of chefs in Shanghai, where work in kitchens is often associated with unskilled labor conducted by migrants from other regions of China. In contrast, informants generally agreed that the social status of chefs and restaurant workers in Tokyo is higher and international training and experience much more common, making it much easier to recruit quality western chefs in Japan. The 143 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities traditions of apprenticeship and craftsmanship in restaurant work are often cited as reasons for the high standards of Tokyo restaurants. For example, star Italian chef Enrico Delfinger, who heads the Armani-branded restaurant project in Tokyo said he can actually work in his native language of Italian in his Tokyo restaurant: Most of the Japanese people that work here speak Italian. They have been in Italy. They have been in Italy for a long time, one or two years, one of them even three years. So they learn, they speak Italian, they have been working in some of the top Italian restaurants. It is easy for us. It is easy because the language that we speak in the kitchen, even here in Armani is Italian. Even in the floor staff I want somebody that speaks Italian (2008 interview). Joel Robuchon restaurant is one of three of Joel Robuchon’s Tokyo restaurants that won stars in the Michelin Guide’s first Tokyo edition. Source: http://www.robuchon.jp/ebisu/robuchon.html In contrast, many of the head chefs I interviewed in Shanghai frequently described obstacles training their staff in the arts of western cooking. One American chef made the following comparison: Imagine taking a bunch of boys from Appalachia and teaching them Chinese cooking. That is more or less you would have to do with these guys. Most have never eaten western food in their lives (2006 interview). In other words, the restaurant culture of global cities requires a flow of transnational talents, not only at the star-chef level, but also in terms of other professional kitchen staff (see Ceccarini in this publication). Customers are also part of these transnational flows. Shanghai’s haute cuisine restaurants are heavily dependent on international business clients. With an evening meal costing from US$50 to US$200 per person, these restaurants exclude most Shanghainese on local salaries. In most Bund 3 restaurants, for examples, at least half the customers are non-Chinese foreigners, including short-term business travelers or Shanghai based corporate expatriates. The rest are ethnic Chinese, including “overseas Chinese” from Hong Kong or Southeast Asia, Chinese “returnees” with 144 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Chef Enrico Derflingher and his Japanese staff in his namesake restaurant Oficina di Enrico in Harajuku Tokyo. Source: http://www.officinadienrico.jp/ Photo by James Farrer foreign passports and wealthy local Shanghainese. As many managers pointed out, these categories are increasingly difficult to distinguish, since many Shanghainese customers have now spent considerable time abroad as students or business travelers. Moreover, some foreigners have now lived in the city for over a decade, making them a part of the local clientele. Despite these complexities, however, Shanghai’s haute cuisine restaurants remain focused on the market of the well-heeled and mobile members of the transnational capitalist class rather than on localizing the customer base. Staff must speak English, and in some cases, foreign waiters are hired for this reason. Few concessions are made for “local” tastes. Both western menus and the overseas sourcing of expensive specialty ingredients reflect an emphasis on authenticity rather than localization, which is common in the fast food industry. Tokyo also has restaurants that appeal primarily to foreign visitors and expatriates, but in contrast with Shanghai, Japanese make up the majority of customers in most Tokyo haute cuisine restaurants. Thus the cosmopolitan Japanese gourmet customer is counted as another reason for the high quality of Tokyo restaurants. With a background of complex demographic and cultural flows, Asian cities are increasingly adopting a cultural political approach to cuisine. Unlike national cultural politics that seems intent on exporting cultural products and practices, cities engage in a cultural politics of cosmopolitan elitism of which global haute cuisine forms a key 145 Eating the West and beating the rest: culinary Occidentalism and urban soft power in Asia’s global food cities component. Such competitive cosmopolitanism is clearly not the only determinant of global food cultures but does explain why cities such as Shanghai are eager to have foreign food establishments at key symbolic locations such as the Bund (although not at locations sacred to the image of the nation state, such as the Forbidden City in Beijing). Conclusion: competitive cosmopolitanism In a region in which cultural flows are still conceived largely in terms of ethnic and national competition, urban cultural politics takes the ambiguous form of a competitive cosmopolitanism, in which cultural internationalism is simultaneously a product of, and in tension with, cultural nationalism. These pragmatic politics of urban cosmopolitanism are shaped by decades of colonial and postcolonial encounters. In developing global cities, contemporary urban foodscapes build upon colonial legacies and play upon postcolonial imaginaries. Despite the increasing diversities of urban foodways, culinary Occidentalism as well as culinary nationalism still strongly influence the meanings of consuming foreign foods in Asia’s global cities. This essay sketches changes in the culinary geography of global cities, by focusing on the interaction between transnational flows of people and resources and local cultural politics in two of Asia’s global cities. Although investments and increased wealth create the conditions for development of international restaurant scenes in cities, the advent of a cosmopolitan and lively urban food culture is not an inevitable outcome of economic globalization. “Culinary soft power,” or the culinary reputation of a city, has become an important element of “urban soft power,” or the overall attractiveness of a city. Local governments court investors and mobile professionals by promoting nightlife and restaurant districts. 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Tokyo: Iwanami Shinsho. Zhang Zhili, Xie Kewei, and Li Jie. 2007. “Han Zheng zhichu: Shanghai weilai fazhan yao zhuzhong tisheng chengshiruanshili (Mayor Han Zheng points out, Shanghai’s future development dependents on increasing urban soft power).” Xinhua Net. January 30. http://news.xinhuanet. com/local//2007-01/30/content_5671816.htm (accessed June 24, 2009). 149 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 9 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization Kosaku Yoshino Copyright © 2010 by Kosaku Yoshino All rights reserved 150 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction Food has often been cited as offering a good vantage point for observing globalization, as it highlights close connections among peoples, cultures and places. Indeed, culinary globalization is a subject that is gaining increasing popularity in anthropology, sociology and cultural studies. One of the areas that have so far received much attention is the global spread of American fast food (e.g., Ritzer 1993; Watson 1997). Another fairly popular area is the globalization of particular national cuisines, as represented in publications by Bester’s “How sushi went global” (2000) and Wu and Cheung’s The Globalization of Chinese Food (2002). Confining ourselves to Asian examples, Japanese and Chinese cuisines are obviously successful cases of culinary globalization. While more studies should be conducted of other successful Asian cases, such as Thai and Indonesian cuisines, the aim of this essay is to look into a “failed” or rather “forgotten” case of culinary globalization. By doing so, I hope to shed more light on one potential area of food globalization that until now has received little attention: Malaysian cuisine.1 Malaysian cuisine represents a significant range of culinary diversity originating from Malaysia’s multiethnicity. There are many Malaysian favourites such as nasi lemak, beef rendang, bak kut teh, char kway teow, curry laksa, roti canai, nasi goreng, nasi dagang, and more. Despite the variety of dishes available, Malaysian restaurants are limited in number in virtually all major cities of the world compared with Thai, Vietnamese and Indonesian restaurants. In Tokyo, for example, there are only six Malaysian restaurants (as of December 2008). Thus the question arises, given the wide range of palatable meals, why doesn’t Malaysian cuisine fare well on the global market? This essay attempts to examine the question and offers some tentative interpretations of its relative lack of impact on the global market. The approach adopted in this essay is sociological and makes inquiries into certain social processes that take place between these two social actors: reproducers and consumers of ethnic cuisine.2 Considering the Japanese market as a particular example, this study attempts to examine the social characteristics of consumers of ethnic food and then looks into certain issues regarding reproducers of Malaysian cuisine, such as the roles of small businesses and the state. Methodologically, I conducted a number of open-ended interviews with owners and managers of Malaysian restaurants in Tokyo as well as some exploratory interviews with designers 1. This is an unfinished paper. The project is still on-going. I have not been able to complete the empirical research by the time of submission of my paper for the on-line publication of conference proceedings. 2. Many studies of food culture tend to limit themselves to interpretations of the representation of the food. 151 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization of ethnic restaurants in both Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur between 2007 and 2009. During this period, I also obtained information from many restaurant customers in the form of casual chats, which proved to be a very useful method since they provided opportunities to understand the reasons and motivations for visiting ethnic restaurants in the contexts of their lifestyles, family relations, friends, and so on. Additionally, I had numerous unstructured interviews with Malay, Chinese, Indian and other residents of Malaysia about their own interpretations of the place of Malaysian cuisine in the national and global culinary markets in 2007-9. It should be made clear at the outset that this is an exploratory study, not a finished paper either in theoretical or methodological terms and should be considered as such. Some empirical generalizations are made on the basis of my own studies and observations, but more rigorous research should be conducted before any confirmed statements can be made. Malaysia’s Multiethnicity and Its Cuisines Before inquiring into the relative lack of globalization of Malaysian cuisine, let us first take a brief look at Malaysia’s population composition. As of 1991, the three main categories of this country—Malays, Chinese and Indians—account for the vast majority of the population, at 50.7%, 27.5% and 7.8% respectively, and the Nasi lemak remaining part of the population consists of these indigenous groups: Orang Asli, Dayaks, Kadazan and others (Department of Statistics 1991, 40). The basis for this so-called MCIO (Malays, Chinese, Indians and Others) classification can be traced back to the British colonial period, when large numbers of people migrated from China, the Indian subcontinent, Ceylon and elsewhere. During the colonial period, Satay the three main groups were sharply divided into economic sectors, with Malays in the countryside cultivating rice, the Chinese (mostly in the cities) engaged in commerce, industry, and tin-mining, and Indians on the rubber plantations. These groups gave rise to what Furnivall called a “plural society” (Furnival 1939 [1969]). Of course, MCIO was not such a simple construct, since the Malay, Chinese and Indian peoples were themselves formed from diverse groups and categories (Yoshino 2002). Beef rendang The Malays as a group are conceptually broad and epitomize a “hybrid ethnicity.” Also, the Chinese consist of a large number of sub-groups (Cantonese, Hokkiens, Hakkas, Teochews, etc.) based on place of origin and dialect. Indians, as well, are divided into groups depending on religion (Hindu, Christian, Muslim, Sikh, etc.) or Bak kut teh （肉骨茶） Photo source: MalaysianFood.net (http:// www.malaysianfood. net/index.htm) place of origin (Indian Tamils, Malayalis, Telugus, Sikhs, including Punjabis, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankan Tamils, and other Sri Lankans). These groups were formed into monolithic categories of Malays, Chinese, and Indians at the time of a census of Malayan Federated States taken in 1911. The population census and the various 152 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region administrative institutions that were established during the colonial period served to insitutionalize and fix in place the Malay, Chinese and Indian categories (Yoshino 2002).3 The multiethnic nature of Malaysia’s population is reflected in its cuisine. So next, let us take a further look into Malaysia’s main ethnic groups and briefly discuss the types of cuisine associated with each ethnicity. It should be noted that the description that follows is not a comprehensive one. Malay cuisine Malays in Malaysia are the descendants of proto-Malays mixed with Indian, Thai, Arab and Chinese forebears. Malay culture, and therefore Malay cuisine, were formed under the strong influences of such ethnic groups as Indians, Thais, Javanese, Sumatran, and others. Regional differences were also significant. For example, in Char kway teow the north, intermarriages with Thais were common, and accordingly the northern states of Kedah, Perlis, Kelanan, and Trengganu display distinct Thai influences in their cuisine. Indonesian influences were pervasive in the central state of Negeri Sembilan, which was settled largely by the Minangkabau from West Sumatra and thus reflects its history and cuisine. Rendang (richly spiced meat curry dish) is a Malaysian chicken curry typical example. In the early 20th century, there was a large influx of Sumatran migrants to Kuala Lumpur and other parts of the Malayan heartland, an event that made nasi padang a very popular Malaysian dish, which is now served at many Malay restaurants and stalls. Nasi padang is a meal of rice served with meat, fish, poultry, and vegetables, originating from the West Sumatran district of Padang. The Malay cuisine in the southernmost state of Johor reflects the influence of the Javanese who Roti canai settled there over the past two centuries. Despite the regional differences, however, Malay cuisine can be characterized by its use of a variety of spices and herbs. One distinguishing ingredient used in many Malay dishes is belacan (shrimp paste). One of the most popular Malay dishes is nasi lemak. This is a meal of rice cooked in coconut milk served with sambal ikan bilis (chilli anchovies), cucumber slices, hard Curry laksa boiled egg and roasted peanuts and is traditionally packaged in a fresh banana leaf Photo sources: MalaysianFood.net (http:// www.malaysianfood. net/index.htm) except Curry laksa, which was taken from Rasa Malaysia (http://www. rasamalaysia.com/labels/ Hawker%20Food. html) (MalaysianFood.net; Hutton and Tettoni 2005). 3. This essay focuses only on Peninsular Malaysia. Sabah and Sarawak are not included in this discussion. 153 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization Malaysian Chinese cuisine Sea-faring Chinese merchants and traders have long had a presence in the South China Sea and a link to the Malay Peninsula. Some of these early comers eventually intermarried with local Malays and integrated with the local communities. But it was later in history during the British colonial era of the 19th century that the Chinese came in masses to the Malay Peninsula, attracted by the tin mining industry in that area. Most of the Chinese were labourers from the southern provinces of China, while others became small business merchants or worked as artisans. The Chinese brought with them their cultures, languages and skills as well as their cuisine with its various provincial styles. The basic ingredients for these dishes included noodles, tofu, and soy sauce. Since these times, the Hokkien (Fujian) and Cantonese have been the dominant Chinese ethnic groups in Malaysia. Hokkien food is probably the best known in Malaysia, but there are also other Chinese cuisines such as Cantonese, Hainanese, Teochew, and Hakka. Bak kut teh (pork rib soup) is a very popular Hokkien herbal soup dish. Char kway teow is also popularly believed to be a Hokkien dish. Malaysian Chinese cuisine has added a variety of favourite Malaysian spices such as cinnamon bark and star anise which has served to indigenize and re-flavour the traditional Chinese dishes (MalaysianFood.net; Hutton and Tettoni 2005). As a result, many “Chinese” dishes in Malaysia have gone native, for example, the many different kinds of curries and other items using local ingredients like daun kesum (polygonaceae), bunga kantan (torch ginger flower), galangal, daun kadoh (wild pepper leaf vine), lemon grass, cencalok (fermented shrimp or krill), and buah petai (twisted cluster bean). Malaysian Indian cuisine As with the Chinese, the Malay Peninsula had a long history of commerce with merchants from India. The flow of trade waxed and waned over the centuries, but the commerce always brought Indian influences in its wake. However, it was not until the 19th century, after the British took control of the Malay Peninsula, that traders and labourers from India came in large numbers. As a consequence, Indian food became “Malaysianized,” as in the case of Chinese food, and distinctive versions of Indian food, not normally found in India, were invented. In today’s Malaysia, not only will one find many Indian restaurants serving “authentic” northern and southern Indian cuisine, but also Indian-Muslim stalls and eateries that form an interesting cross-section of Malaysia’s culinary landscape. Locals refer to the latter as “Mamak” or nasi kandar stalls or restaurants, which serve Indian-Muslim food—a culinary fusion of Indian and Malay cooking styles.4 Its curries and ingredients are Indian but the dishes are very 4. “Mamak” is an almost derogatory term for Indian Muslim. Nasi kandar refers to cuisine usually sold by Indian Muslims. 154 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Malaysian in terms of its combination of ingredients and the way it is served. Roti canai, for example, would be considered a popular and typically Malaysian Indian breakfast, served with, lentil or dhall curry (MalaysianFood.net; Hutton and Tettoni 2005). Nyonya cuisine The early Chinese settlers (mentioned above) who became localized are called Straits Chinese or “Peranakan.” The males are called “Baba,” and females are called “Nyonya.” The language of the Peranakans, is Baba Malay (Bahasa Melayu Baba), a dialect of the Malay language (Bahasa Melayu), which contains many Hokkien words. Acculturation with Malay culture and society naturally followed, and a strong hybrid culture has resulted in producing a unique cuisine. This would be known as Nyonya cuisine, resulting from a marriage of Chinese, Thai, Indonesian and Malay cuisines. Although Nyonya food contains traditional Chinese ingredients and Malay spices and herbs, an eclectic selection of preparation and cooking methods, ingredients, herbs and seasonings makes the taste and aroma different from either Chinese or Malay food. One can easily recognise Nyonya food by its cooking style, which is, I dare say, is the epitome of fusion cuisine. As in Malay cooking, belacan is a key ingredient in Nyonya cuisine. Whereas Nyonya food in northern Malaysia (namely, Penang) has a Thai influence, Nyonya food in the south (Malacca and Singapore) has characteristics influenced by Indonesians. Laksa (a noodle dish served in a tamarind based fish soup blended with shallots, chillis, belacan and otaku dang or shrimp paste) is probably one of the most famous Nyonya dishes among Malaysians. Nyonya cuisine is also known for its kuih (local cakes) (MalaysianFood.net; Hutton and Tettoni 2005). Images of Malaysian Cuisine Let us now consider why Malaysian cuisine, despite its distinctive heritages, has not won much respect among the international restaurant crowd. Before inquiring into market mechanisms, however, it may be instructive first to see how Malaysians and non-Malaysians (in this case, the Japanese) themselves react to the question as to why Malaysian cuisine has not gone global.5 Lack of distinctive identity (as perceived by outsiders) The first reaction by the Japanese on any discussion of Malaysian cuisine would likely be that they cannot think of any specific dish. While one can think of tom yam 5. Interviews were conducted with 30 Japanese and 30 Malaysians in August and September of 2007 and 2008. Since the study was exploratory, random sampling was not used. 155 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization as a representative Thai dish, or raw spring rolls and phô as typically Vietnamese, and nasi goreng as something Indonesian (though it is in fact also Malaysian), it is simply not possible for any ordinary Japanese person to identify a specific Malaysian dish. This of course probably has something to do with the relatively small number of Japanese who have been exposed to Malaysian food. Japanese visitors to Malaysia are still fewer than those who travel to Thailand, Indonesia and Vietnam, as Table 1 shows. (The difference between Malaysia and Vietnam is rather marginal, however). Table 1: Tourist Arrivals in ASEAN from Japan, 2007 Destination No. of tourists 4,154 Brunei Cambodia 161,973 Indonesia 517,356 Laos 29,770 Malaysia 367,567 Myanmar 15,623 Philippines 395,012 Singapore 594,511 Thailand 1,277,638 Vietnam 411,557 Total 3,775,161 Source: ASEAN Promotion Centre on Trade, Investment and Tourism 2007, 100. Civilizations encapsulated in a nation-state These figures alone do not wholly explain the relative lack of distinctive identity of Malaysian cuisine as perceived by non-Malaysians. A more fundamental reason would likely be that when perceived by non-Malaysians, Malaysian-Chinese and Malaysian-Indian dishes appear—and indeed are—very similar to Chinese and Indian dishes in China and India. As one commentator remarked, Malaysian dishes are “only variations of Indian and Chinese cuisines,” and the Malaysians themselves tend to say that the distinctiveness of the Malaysian cuisine derives from its plural and multiethnic society. The Malaysian Tourist Authority’s slogan, “Malaysia truly Asia,” is well phrased: it effectively reveals the country’s multi-layered identities and social relationships and networks involving all Malaysians. If we limit ourselves to formal categories, there is 156 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region first, the intra-national dimension of ethnic categories comprised of Malays, ethnic Chinese, Indians and “others,” second, the dimension of Malaysia’s national identity, and third, the dimension of transnational interconnections between Malaysia’s domestic ethnicities and the broader categories of the world’s people—often called “civilisations.” Malaysian Chinese identity connects with the broader Chinese world or the Chinese civilisation, Malaysian Indians identity with the Indian civilisation, and in religious terms, Malay identify with the broader Muslim world, and so on. Needless to say, these relationships are constructed categories. Nevertheless, it is a social fact that these formal categories effectively prescribe the boundaries of people’s daily lives and world-views. It is for this reason that, when Malaysian residents overseas want to feel a touch of home, they are quite content to eat dinner in a Chinese or Indian restaurant. Malay restaurant food cannot easily be found abroad. Malaysian cuisine is so hybrid that most Malaysians (that I have spoken with) are quite at ease with anything Asian: Thai, Indonesian, Indian, and so on. Malay cuisine as home cuisine In response to the question as to why Malay cuisine has not diffused globally, many Malaysians I interviewed remark that Malay cuisine is basically home-cooking and that Malays have not come up with any particular ways of presenting it to consumers as “ethnic cuisine” in a commercial setting. Malay food is considered best when served in Malay homes, they say. This, of course, does not really explain the relative failure of Malaysian cuisine to go international but may be regarded as a cultural interpretation on the part of the Malaysians themselves. Asian Ethnic Restaurants in Tokyo: Consumers of Ethnic Tourist Culture Let us now look into some aspects and processes of the globalization of ethnic cuisine using Tokyo as an example. It is not easy to obtain accurate data on the number and variety of ethnic restaurants in any big city, but it is possible to get some idea about Tokyo’s ethnic restaurants by using the “Tokyo Restaurant Search” search engine, which lists 79 different kinds of ethnic restaurants in Tokyo and the neighbouring prefectures. As far as Malaysian restaurants are concerned, I find this search engine accurate and up-to-date, though I do not know about other types of restaurants. As of 23 June 2009, I found 7 Malaysian restaurants as compared to 296 Thai restaurants, 105 Vietnamese restaurants and 33 Indonesian restaurants (Tokyo Restaurant Search). So it is obvious that the presence of Malaysian restaurants 157 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization and cuisine in Tokyo is still so slight that if one were to ask a typical Tokyoite to recommend a Malaysian restaurant, he or she would simply respond with a look of surprised incomprehension. In our attempt to explain the relative neglect of Malaysian cuisine in the global market, we might place the question in a more general and comparative light. A general question might be: who are the consumers of Asian ethnic food in Japan? One important social category would be Japanese tourists of Southeast Asia who want to re-experience this culture back home. Visitors to this region can partake in a number of cultural experiences in one tourist package, normally consisting of an exotic and tropical atmosphere, appreciation of ethnic food, relaxation in spas often accompanied by an “oil” massage, shopping for zakka (sundries), and so on. Usually Thailand, Indonesia (Bali) and Vietnam are destinations for this kind of tourist package. Thai cuisine is obviously a successful case of culinary globalization, thus making it a good candidate for a comparative study. But our purpose would be better served if we considered Indonesian cuisine in view of the fact that Malaysian and Indonesian cuisines are very similar to each other. Yet it is Indonesian, more than Malaysian cuisine that is so well known globally. Indonesian restaurants and the “Bali factor” Bali has played a central role in developing this kind of tourist culture. The development of Bali as “the world’s last paradise” involved the development of a refined culture (including cuisine) and manner of presentation to its Western tourists (e.g., Yamashita 1999). Bali has become a symbol of this kind of tourism. Accordingly when the image of an exotic Southeast Asian atmosphere comes to mind, Bali is foremost in peoples’ thoughts. This may be referred to as the “Bali factor” in the ethnic restaurant industry, which normally implies the use of “orientalistic” Balinese-style décor in interior and exterior design, the skill of presenting food for foreign customers (including the notion of starters, the main course, desserts), and so on. Interior and exterior designers I interviewed in Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur affirmed my point, saying that the Balinese style is actively favoured not just in ethnic restaurants but in what may be called the therapeutic industry, including spas, massage parlours, and even hair dressers. Thus designers play a significant role in furthering the globalizing of ethnic restaurants. This in turn calls our attention to the role of cultural intermediaries in the ethnic restaurant industry.6 Many Indonesian restaurants in Tokyo actively pursue the use of Balinese décor, of which Café Ubud in Osaki Gate City would be the epitome. (Ubud is one of the 6. For the concept of “cultural intermediaries,” see Yoshino (1999, ch.1). 158 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region most popular tourist destinations in Bali) This restaurant was invited by Osaki Gate City to create a space that would add value to the whole shopping complex. This was a good choice because, according to a tourist promotional website, Ubud is a kind of place that “draws people…who are actively involved in art, nature, anthropology, music, dance, architecture, environmentalism, ‘alternative modalities,’ and more” (Bali and Indonesia on the net). This restaurant uses furniture imported from Bali, and its interior décor creates the kind of relaxing and “healing” atmosphere so characteristic of Balinese resorts. Another Indonesian restaurant, Sura Baya, has a number of branches in and near Tokyo including Aqua City, in Odaiba, and Lalaport Toyosu. It is interesting that, although this restaurant serves mainly Javanese foods, it uses Balinese interior design to enhance its appeal and familiarity and (according to the restaurant manager) feels more comfortable to Japanese customers.7 It is important to note that women are typical consumers of the therapeutic tourist culture and ethnic cuisine in Japan, so it follows that ethnic restaurants should be made appealing to women. To achieve this, Balinese-style décor is commonly used. Ethnic restaurants are often featured in women’s magazines, and in fact many of my female respondents at ethnic restaurants mentioned that such magazines are important sources of useful information about Thai, Vietnamese and other ethnic restaurants. On the other hand, my male respondents said that if they had eaten at such ethnic restaurants it was because their girlfriends or wives wanted to go there. The preceding discussion suggests that Indonesian restaurants play a major role in the global consumer market, thanks in part to the aesthetic and cultural values they provide with their food. As such, they fit quite comfortably into global urban landscapes. By contrast, we cannot find any similar approaches or strategies for Malaysian restaurants, as will be discussed later. Malaysia has simply not yet established itself as a popular destination for such therapeutic tourism, and it should be apparent by now that this is a major reason why Malaysian restaurants are still a very minor entity in the Japanese restaurant industry. Interestingly, as part of the Malaysian government’s campaign to promote tourism for the past several years, many Malaysian hotels, resorts, and restaurant operators themselves have started making use of Balinese interior and exterior design to create an exotic, Southeast Asian atmosphere in Malaysia. 7. These observations are based on discussions with my students who have interviewed the managers of these restaurants. The findings are reported in Yoshino Zemi (Seminar) (2008, 31-42). 159 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization Reproducers of Malaysian Cuisine in Tokyo As has been argued, the use of therapeutic tourist culture as a means of appealing to consumers is one contributory factor behind the success of globalization of Indonesian restaurants, and the lack of a similar strategy makes for an evident contrast on the case of Malaysian cuisine. But, to explain further why Malaysian cuisine has not really entered the global market, we should also take into account the lack of “social bearers” of culinary globalization. Let us next take a brief look at each Malaysian restaurant in Tokyo from this perspective. In the recent past some restaurants came into, but then went out of, business, so as of December 2008 there are six Malaysian restaurants in Tokyo. (The seven restaurants listed by the “Tokyo Restaurant Search” include one in Kanagawa, which we exclude from our discussion [See Table 2]). Table 2: Malaysian Restaurants in Tokyo (as of December 2008) Name Location Years of operation Malaychan Ikebukuro 18 years Malaysia Malay Soshigaya-Okura 9 years Malay Fuko Bishoku（馬来風光美食） Ogikubo 8 years Mahathi Shin-Okubo Closed in 2009 Rasa Malaysia Ginza 5 years Jom Makan Ginza 1 year Malaysian cuisine reproduced by Japanese As we can see from this short list, Malaychan in Ikebukoro, which is run by a Japanese woman, is the oldest Malaysian restaurant in Tokyo. The way she started the restaurant is quite indicative of how a Japanese person might become an agent in diffusing ethnic food. Earlier in her life she was active in supporting overseas students, the majority of whom were Malaysians. While she was creating opportunities for students to cook commercially and earn some money, she herself became increasingly involved in the cooking. Eventually she went to Malaysia and fell in love with its mix of cultures and food. Upon returning to Japan, she started her own restaurant, thinking about the Malay students who had no halal restaurant to go to in Tokyo. With much effort she obtained a halal licence and even succeeded in signing a contract to supply halal food to ANA for its in-flight meals, and among the students who frequented her restaurant was the CEO and chef for Jom Makan (to be discussed later). While Malaychan is the pioneer in the Malaysian restaurant business 160 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region in Tokyo, Malaysia Malay in Shoshigaya-Okura is also run by an elderly Japanese couple who had visited Malaysia numerous times and wanted to share their culinary experiences with the Japanese. Their restaurant is more of a salon rather than a strictly commercially run restaurant, where people who love Southeast Asia can get together for the enjoyment of conversation and food. Malaysian Chinese and small business: their Malaysian restaurants Two restaurants in Tokyo are run by Malaysian-Chinese women married to Japanese. Malay Fuko Bishoku, in Ogikubo, is somewhat typical of how a Malaysian Chinese person might start a Malaysian restaurant overseas. Ten years ago the owner, from Ipoh, met a Japanese businessman in Kuala Lumpur and got married. She had always wanted to own a kedai makan (eating shop) like her mother, who used to sell food at a stall in Ipoh, and cook using her mother’s recipes. When she came to Tokyo with her Japanese husband, she made this dream come true by renting a small space in the basement of a building. The size and shape of the space is meant for a bar, and like many Tokyo bars is a somewhat “dingy” place where she is both cook and “mama-san” and chats with customers over the counter while cooking. The small place is always full of regulars as well as new customers, the Source: ZoooM!GourmetTokyo, http://www.zooom.jp/zooom/detail. do?id=90000734 (accessed 23 June 2009) majority of whom have lived in Malaysia and miss its food. At the other location, Mahathir in Shin-Okubo, the cook is a woman also from Ipoh, and her elderly Japanese husband helps by serving the customers. However, this restaurant closed its business in early 2009. These restaurants are typical cases of family enterprise. There is another restaurant by the name of Rasa Malaysia in Ginza, run by a group of Malaysian Chinese family members; however, I have not been able to gather information about this restaurant at the time of writing this essay. These small-business restaurants do not actively seek out “exotic” images of Malaysia in promoting their business. Malay Fuko Bishoku serves a fairly “genuine” Malaysian cuisine, but the restaurant’s interior has few traces of “Malaysianness.” Like many small-business Chinese restaurants in Japan, their main concern is to serve food commercially, though of course some representative images may be displayed. 161 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization For example, Mahathir displays a number of objects that are symbolic or reminiscent of Malaysia such as an orang-utan doll, a picture of former Prime Minister Mahathir, a tourist map of Malaysia, and an indoor semi-tropical plant, but because they are displayed in such a haphazard manner they hardly produce the kind of aesthetic effect that Balinese style does. The preceding discussion has focused on the role of Malaysian Chinese migrants in setting up Malaysian restaurants (though the number of such cases is very limited in Tokyo). In the process of explaining the lack of global diffusion of Malaysian food, it is not difficult to understand the lack of interest on the part of Malaysian Chinese and Indians to export their cuisine, as their cuisine would simply be considered a variant of Chinese and Indian cuisine. But this does not apply to Malays themselves, whose culinary culture is more distinctive. However, the Malay social and political culture has much to do with the reason why Malaysian cuisine has not received a global reception. As will be discussed below, Malay middle classes have had a strong tendency to work as civil servants and furthermore, have a stronger propensity to stay in Malaysia and not work overseas as migrants (in contrast to Malaysian Chinese). The role of the state and the new Malay middle class The role of migrants and immigrants is often given much weight in literature on ethnic restaurants (e.g., Collins 1995). By contrast, the role of the state is relatively unexplored. It may be argued that the state can also play a non-negligible role, as the Thai case shows. Thai cuisine is a prime example of a successfully globalized ethnic cuisine, and the role of the Thai government deserves attention. The “Thai Select” certification program of Thailand’s Department of Export Promotion, is designed “to recognize and endorse the quality of Thai restaurants…to increase the recognition of quality Thai restaurants,” and “to encourage Thai restaurateurs to raise their quality standard so that they are at an international level.” This certification program is considered to have facilitated the globalisation of Thai cuisine (Thai Select).8 The Malaysian Government is endeavouring to follow suit. Its Ministry of Entrepreneur and Co-operative Development recently initiated the “Malaysia Kitchen Programme.” Its website explains the program as follows: The Malaysia Kitchen Programme is a national initiative by the Economic Planning Unit of the Government of Malaysia, aimed to add value to the tourism and agriculture sector by looking at opportunities to expand the food processing industry of the country. The programme is also to promote Malaysia to the rest 8. See Yoshino Zemi (2008, 3-18). 162 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region of the world through its delicious cuisine via a comprehensive and complete business value chain. The Ministry of Entrepreneur and Cooperative Development is entrusted to implement the programme by developing Malaysian restaurants and retail outlets overseas, product development, franchise development and branding Malaysia overseas as well as develop culinary skills and related training. The implementation involves close cooperation between the Government and the private sector where the Government plays the facilitator role and the private sector (entrepreneurs) drives the initiative of opening Malaysian restaurants overseas (Malaysia International Franchise Sdn Bhd). The “Malaysia Kitchen programme” is part of the Government’s 9th Malaysia Plan. The first restaurant to have been materialized under this program was Jom Makan in Ginza, opened in May 2008. The second one is in London. It is too early to make any judgemental comments about this project, but it may be argued that this is symbolic of a number of interesting developments regarding Malays or, more precisely, the Malay new middle class, of which the Jom Makan project is very much representative. As mentioned earlier, Malaysian society and its economy have been characterized by an ethnic division of labour. Traditionally, the majority of Malays were based in kampung (villages) and engaged in agriculture. In modern Malaysia, a considerably larger percentage of middle class Malays are being employed in the government sector, both federal and local, than are other ethnic groups. In this sense, the Malaysian state is largely a Malay ethnic realm. Whereas the Malay middle class (from the time of its independence in 1957 until fairly recently) consisted of civil servants and teachers, the new middle class that has developed since the 1980s consists of professionals, technical people, managers, salesmen, and other office workers employed in private enterprise. This is a class of Malays formed as a result of the New Economic Policy9 and of export-oriented industrialisation (Abdul Rahman Embong 2002). The Malays engaged in the “Jom Makan” project share attributes of both the old and new middle class. They are highly educated, trilingual, and cosmopolitan professionals with Master’s degrees from Japan’s national universities and are, as well, married to Japanese. The restaurant’s CEO has the experience of working in the Malaysian government ministry as well as the private sector, and travels back and 9. The New Economic Policy (NEP) is an affirmative action policy instituted in 1971. It was intended to eliminate poverty, remove the identification of ethnicity with occupations, and foster Malay entrepreneurship. It was also aimed at correcting the income inequality between Bumiputera (Malays and other indigenous groups) and non-bumi (mainly Chinese and Indians) and increasing the proportion of “bumi” capital ownership from 2% in 1970 to 30% in 1990. 163 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization forth between Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur. The manner in which they conduct business is very different from Malaysian Chinese enterprises in that as a semi-governmental corporation, the restaurant is supported by the Malaysian state. We may even say that they are agents of Malaysian economic nationalism.10 Nonetheless, it is much too early to make any generalizations about whether this state-led culinary globalization will succeed. We need to watch for further developments, especially with regard to the tensions between market forces and government support. Summary and Conclusion In this essay I have deliberately chosen a forgotten case of culinary globalization. The value of examining a number of negative factors in this case or considering certain absent factors that might have enhanced globalization, enables us to highlight the mechanisms and processes that contribute to success in the positive cases— in this instance, the globalization of certain national cuisines. This paper may be summarized as having indicated three points of theoretical importance: First, that the globalization of a particular national cuisine should be understood in the larger context of global consumer culture, of which one of the most important components is tourism. Second, that in order to explain how a particular national cuisine becomes globally diffused, it is important to adopt a sociological approach as a means of identifying those actors who “reproduce” the cuisine for “culinary tourists.” (In the context of Malaysian cuisine in the Japanese market, these reproducers would be Japanese individuals attracted by Malaysian culinary culture, Malaysian Chinese migrants to Japan, and the Malaysian state with its nationalistic agenda.) This leads to our third point—that is, it is important for sociology and anthropology to pay more serious attention to the role of the state in diffusing a nation’s popular culture in the global market. There is now some literature on the role the state might play in promoting audio-visual popular culture (Consider, for example, Japan’s manga, anime, and J-pop promotions; however, few, if any, have addressed this question with reference to a culinary culture (e.g., McGuigan 2004; Iwabuchi 2008). The state 10. Here is an episode to illustrate my points about business practices and economic nationalism. Nasi lemak was served at Malaysia Kitchen in Daikanyama, a precursor to Jom Makan before the latter was opened in May 2008. Cucumber slices and small roasted peanuts, which normally accompany coconut rice, hard boiled egg and dried anchovies in nasi lemak, were not served then. I commented on the lack of the necessary ingredients to the Malay CEO there, who said that due to the lack of a good economic partnership agreement between Malaysia and Japan, they could not import Malaysian peanuts (which are smaller than the Japanese ones). However, Indonesian restaurants could import cheap peanuts because of the EPA between Indonesia and Japan. He attributed this to the relative lack of globalization of Malaysian cuisine. Overhearing this conversation, a Malaysian Chinese person present there said, “Who cares where peanuts come from? Malaysian Chinese would buy peanuts from just about anywhere, including Indonesia or China.” A Japanese customer also commented: “Why don’t they try to use thin Japanese cucumbers? It’s just a matter of cutting them diagonally so that they look like larger Malaysian cucumber slices.” It should be noted for the sake of fairness that the Malaysia Kitchen project is not just to promote Malaysian cuisine but also more broadly the agricultural sector in Malaysia. 164 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and its culinary culture is thus a far neglected area of interest and deserves serious sociological study. Acknowledgment I would like to thank Patric Pillai, Koo Yie Lie, Lim Kim Hui and Khoo Boo Teik for their helpful comments and criticisms. 165 Malaysian Cuisine: A Case of Neglected Culinary Globalization References Abdul Rahman Embong. 2002. State-led Modernization and the New Middle Class in Malaysia. Basingstoke, Palgrave. ASEAN Promotion Centre on Trade, Investment and Tourism. 2007. http://www.asean.or.jp/general/ statistics/statistics08/chapter5/5-3.pdf (accessed 2 December 2008). Besor, Theodore C. 2000. “How Sushi Went Global.” Foreign Policy, December, 2000: 54-63. Bali and Indonesia on the Net. “What’s Ubud?” http://www.indo.com/active/ubud.huml (accessed 23 June 2009). Collins, Jock, et al. 1995. A Shop Full of Dreams: Ethnic Small Business in Australia. Sydney: Pluto Press, Australia. Department of Statistics. 1991. Population and Housing Census of Malaysia, vol. 1 (General Report of the Population Census). Furnivall, JS. 1967. 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Tokyo Restaurant Search. http://e-food.jp/rest/ (accessed 23 June 2009). Watson, James L., ed. 1997. Golden Arches East: McDonald’s in East Asia. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Wu, David Y.H. and Sidney C.H. Cheung, eds. 2002. The Globalization of Chinese Food. Richmond: Curzon. Yamashita, Shinji. 1999. Bali: Kanko-jinruigaku no Ressun (Bali: Lessons concerning an anthropology of tourism). Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press. Yoshino, Kosaku, ed. 1999. Consuming Ethnicity and Nationalism: Asian Experiences. London: Curzon Press/Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Yoshino, Kosaku. 2002. “Esunisizumu to maruchi-esunisiti: Mareshia ni okeru aidentiti no 2-tsu no hokosei”(Ethnicism and multiethnicity: two directions of identity in Malaysia). In Koza Shakaigaku, vol. 16: Kokusai Shakai (International Society), 85-119. Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press. Yoshino Zemi (Seminar), Department of Sociology, Sophia University. 2008. Tokyo Ajia Shokukiko: Esunikku Resutoran no Shakaigaku (Culinary Tour of Tokyo: A Sociology of Ethnic Restaurants). Tokyo: Yoshino Zemi. 166 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 10 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Restaurants in Shanxi Province David L. Wank Copyright © 2010 by David L. Wank All rights reserved 167 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region In winter 2008 I visited a new high-end restaurant in north China’s Shanxi province that specializes in the province’s cuisine. Upon entering I was startled at the sight of a large mural of yellow sorghum stalks hanging on the opposite wall. Chinese consider sorghum to be the coarsest of grains 粗糧 and a reflection of North China’s poverty. This can be seen in Zhang Yimou’s classic films Red Sorghum and Ju Dou, which use sorghum as a symbol of economic backwardness and stultifying traditions. When I taught English in Shanxi province in the early 1980s teachers and students invariably mentioned sorghum noodles when regaling me with tales of the hardships of life in Shanxi. No one, they assured me, would eat these pink rubbery noodles streaked with plant fibers if other foods were available. The above restaurant, however, was part of a local dish 地方菜 boom that has been sweeping China since the mid-1990s. These local dish restaurants serve foods that are represented as the cuisine of a specific locale eaten by common people. In Shanxi the menus feature dishes made from the coarse grains and non-leafy vegetables produced in the province’s semi-arid climate and poor loess soil. Restaurant décors display Shanxi’s glorious historical past, including its role as the ancient state of Jin 晉 (770 BC-478 BC), a banking center in the Qing 清 Dynasty (1644-1910), and a Communist base area during the War of Liberation (1945-1949). Local dish restaurants evoke what Mark Swislocki terms cultural nostalgia defined as “the purposive evocation of another time and place through food” (2009:1). He argues that food and its representation have long enabled people to understand social change and their position in it. He traces these shifting understandings in Shanghai. In the late Imperial and Republican eras (late nineteenth century-1949) a culinary nostalgia of foods from ancestral regions enabled the diverse groups pouring into the Shanghai from all over China to comprehend shifting social statuses. In the Maoist era (1950s-1970s) state patronage produced a culinary nostalgia that valorized food as handicraft to imagine China as a proletarian class nation. The current local dish boom valorizes the conspicuous consumption and gangster violence of 1930s Shanghai as a reflection of the unbridled capitalism that has been transforming the city since the 1990s. This essay examines the culinary nostalgia of local dish restaurants in Shanxi, a place far from Shanghai and the wealthy coastal regions. How does the production and consumption of coarse foods amidst symbols of the province’s imperial and socialist past enable diners to understand the current situation? As a starting point I note that the local dish boom is a national trend and that many of the diners in the restaurants that I visited in Shanxi are tourists, conventioneers, and other nonlocals. The answer that I develop, therefore, emphasizes the positioning of subjects in the context of the national economy. This positioning reflects the disjuncture in 168 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province the economy of market and state that has emerged in China through the neo-liberal policies that were introduced from 1979. This essay is based on preliminary field research conducted in local dish restaurants around Shanxi province’s capital city of Taiyuan 太原. The first section shall give an overview of Shanxi cuisine. The second section examines how several restaurants represent culinary nostalgia (Hubbert 2007, Yano 2007). The third section considers the effects of culinary nostalgia on the consumers in imagining a Chinese nation (Anderson 2006). The fourth section examines the production of culinary nostalgia through capital conversions that overlap the field of state power (Bourdieu 1987). 1. Shanxi Cuisine It is common to conceive Chinese food in terms of regional cuisines 菜系. Usual classifications are the Four Great Cuisines 四大菜系 (see Picture 1), or the Eight Great Cuisines 八大菜系, the latter consisting of Shandong, Sichuan, Guangdong, Fujian, Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Hunan, and Anhui cuisines. The inclusion of Beijing and Shanghai cuisines constitutes the Ten Great Cuisines. These so-called great cuisines are often referred to by their classical provincial or regional names, such as Yue 粤菜 for Guangdong cuisine, Xiang 湘菜 for Hunan cuisine, and Min 閩菜 for Fujian cuisine. A dozen or so other regional cuisines, such as Hainan 海南, Hakka 客家, Chaozhou 潮州, and Shanxi, are considered minor cuisines 小菜系. The identification of cuisines reflects a status order: the map in Picture 1 illustrates that major cuisines are concentrated along the wealthy coast. Lying west of Beijing and just below Mongolia, Shanxi province is surrounded by mountains with a central plain irrigated by the Fen River 汾河 that flows into the Yellow River at the province’s southern boundary. Its arid and chilly climate supports agriculture of such coarse grains as sorghum, buckwheat, millet, and oats, and such non-leafy vegetables as squashes, tubers, and legumes. Many Shanxi dishes have a sour taste imparted by the province’s distinct sorghum vinegar. Shanxi is also famous for its noodles, with each locale having Picture 1: Cuisine map of China. Shanxi province is west of the Mandarin region. Source: Hillman Quality Publications distinct noodles and each town along the central valley having a distinct flatbread 169 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region 餅. The province’s best-known dish is knife cut noodles 刀睄麵 that are now marketed all over China and increasingly in Japan and elsewhere.1 Shanxi’s cuisine is further distinguished by northern, central, and southern versions, a key distinction being use of fish in the south. The cuisine of central Shanxi, called Jinzhong 晉中, is described by the head of the Jinzhong City Cooking Association 晉中市烹飪協會 Zhao Hongkui: We now have more than 300 kinds of Jinzhong wheaten food, including noodles, porridge, mush, thick soup, cakes, flour balls, noodles made from bean and potato, round flat cakes, dumplings and steamed stuffed buns, and so on. In addition “cut and shaved” noodles, “cat ears”, and “buoyuer” are well-known at home and abroad. There are more than 30 cooking methods, such as rolling, pushing, drawing, picking, baking, peeling, pressing, molding, twisting and smoothing, and so on. Generally speaking, the features of Jinzhong wheaten food are delicate methods involving harmonious combination of vegetables and noodles, a mass of color and sweet fragrances. Thanks to the features above, you can be served different wheaten food everyday in a month. (Zhao 2007: 64) Shanxi local dishes have long been available in market stalls, government-run cafeterias 食堂, and the small private restaurants that sprouted from the early 1980s. These establishments have served local dishes because of the ready availability of local culinary ingredients and skills rather than from a self-conscious marketing of “local.” There are also several venerable upscale establishments serving Shanxi cuisine, as for example, the Jinyang Restaurant 晋阳飯莊 that opened in Beijing in 1959 and the Yingze Guesthouse 迎澤賓館 founded in Taiyuan in 1977. These restaurants are staterun establishments for entertaining officials and visiting dignitaries. When I dined at both establishments in the early 1980s, their dishes were heavy on meat and oil, reflecting traditional conceptions of luxurious dining in China. Their presentations of local food were far removed from the presentation of the new local dish restaurants that emphasize “healthy” foods eaten by the “common people.”2 The new restaurants that have emerged in the local dish boom since the mid- 1. Shanxi chauvinists maintain that noodles all over China and even overseas originated in Shanxi. The Taiyuan city government has proclaimed the city as noodle capital of the world and sponsors a Shanxi International Noodle Cultural Festival. 2. When I dined at the Jinyang Restaurant and Yingze Guesthouse in the early 1980s the featured dish was twice-cooked pork 濄油肉. In the new local dish restaurants twice-cooked pork is just one of many dishes on the menu. The Yingze Guesthouse and the Jinyang Restaurant have adapted and now serve less oily versions of this and other Shanxi delicacies. When I dined at the Jinyang Restaurant in 2007 its signature dish had become Fragrant Roast Duck 香酥鴉 , a dish similar to Beijing Duck but less oily because the duck is steamed before being briefly fried in oil. 170 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province 1990s are distinguished by strategically converting the “local” into a commodity. The key is not whether something is actually local in the sense of readily available and inexpensive but rather its representation as “local.” In fact, reliance on local ingredients in preparing local dishes is not very profitable and the new local dish restaurants add non-local ingredients to increase the price of dishes. The menus of the new local dish restaurants contain many fusion dishes, as well as dishes from other regional cuisines. Also, the new local dish restaurants feature dishes made from coarse grains and starvation foods, which is unprecedented in high-end restaurants in China. These new restaurants that have emerged in the local dish boom are innovating to appeal to the growing legions of consumers in China. 2. Representing Cultural Nostalgia in Local Dish Restaurants This section examines how several local dish restaurants evoke cultural nostalgia through the manipulation of symbols of locale and history (Hubbert 2007, Yano 2007). It is based on visits to three restaurants in the greater Taiyuan area in March 2008.3 Each visit consisted of a tour of the restaurant and interviews with the manager, followed by a meal with the manager. The manager arranged the tour and meal at each restaurant and so my experiences reflected the intended consumer experience. Taiyuan residents who accompanied me arranged the visits. All conversations and interviews were in Mandarin Chinese. The three restaurants ranged from family dining to top-end luxury dining. 2-A. Jinzhong Family Restaurant Nostalgia 晉中人家: Central Shanxi Cuisine and Merchant Jinzhong Family restaurant is located in the Taiyuan exurb of Jinzhong city. The city is the seat of an administrative region in central Shanxi called Jinzhong 晉中 comprising 11 counties. During the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) the region was the base of extremely wealthy merchant families that conducted national and international trade and served as bankers to the imperial court.4 The restaurant, which opened a year before my visit, specializes in Jinzhong dishes. According to manager-owner Song, “the business concept is to serve the kind of food that people liked from when they were very young. This makes people feel as if they are eating 3. I visited six restaurants in total. I would like to thank my research assistants, Wang Liyuan, Liu Kai, and Zhang Xiaofen. 4. For several centuries Jinzhong was the center of a long distance trade of teas and silks between China and Europe through overland routes going through Russia. Capital accumulated from this international trade was loaned within China and the region’s family-owned banks became nationally prominent. The rise of trade along China’s coast with Europe in the nineteenth century killed the overland trade with central Asia and Europe and led to the demise of the Shanxi merchant-bankers. 171 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region at home.” He scouted each of the region’s 11 counties to hire cooks specializing in their locales’ dishes.5 The restaurant features famous specialties from the counties, such as Pingyao beef 平遙牛肉 and Shouyang dried tofu 寿阳豆腐乾. Some dishes are prepared on-site while others are shipped from specialty makers in the counties. Patrons include local residents, traveling businesspeople, and tourists. The restaurant occupies the bottom Picture 2: Entrance of Jinzhong Family. Flanking signs list local specialties. Photo by David Wank two floors of a five-story salamandercolored building. The restaurant’s name rests in large red characters above a red tiled roof that overhangs the entrance. On either side are large boards painted with blue-grey colored bricks and red lanterns evocative of Shanxi merchant mansions and signs containing the names of famous Jinzhong dishes from each of the 11 counties. The first floor is a large open space for family-style dining. Its concrete floor, creamcolored walls, and dark wood ceiling create an atmosphere that combines the coziness of a home dining room and the informality of a government-run cafeteria. Just inside the entrance is a gas-burning heater (I visited in late winter). Large dining spaces are marked off by low fences surrounding yellow linoleum-topped round tables and red cloth chairs. Lighting comes from large picture windows facing the street and hanging stainless steel dome lamps. Red lanterns and pictures of Shanxi scenes on the wall give a sense of locality. A large cut-away section of the far wall reveals the cooks at work in the stainless steel kitchen. The kitchen is separated from the dining room by a green marble counter containing wine jugs, pickle vats, hotpots, and dishes of Jinzhong specialties. This layout, characteristic of small establishments that lack space to separate cooking and dining, was a feature of all the local dish restaurants that I visited. It lowers the barrier between customer and cook to impart a lively, performative aspect to food preparation. The second floor is for private gatherings and small banquets. The main hallway is modeled on the courtyards of Qiaojia Mansion 橋家大院, a restored merchant house located in Jinzhong that has been the setting for Zhang Yimou’s film Raise the Red Lantern and countless other films and television Picture 3: Shanxi merchant mansion theme in Jinzhong Family. Photo by David Wank dramas. It is lined with red lanterns and brick arches and 5. The cooks are paid RMB 3,500 per month. 172 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province windows covered with dark woodcarvings. Off the main hall are half a dozen private dining rooms that resemble Shanxi cave dwellings with their arched ceilings and whitewashed walls. The rooms are uncluttered, each containing only two objects hanging on the walls: a picture of a Shanxi scene, such as the walled city of Pingyao, and a poster describing the health benefits of a Shanxi dish, such as black tofu 黑豆腐. Of all the restaurants that I visited, Jinzhong Family’s local dishes are the most faithful to dishes actually eaten by Shanxi natives. However, the restaurant is the least profitable. Manager Song told me that he cannot set prices too far above actual cost because the menu items are also sold in local stores and many customers know their value. 2-B. Reconstructed Xigou 今修西沟: Village Cuisine and Socialist Nostalgia Xigou is the name of a village in the province’s mountainous northwest. The villagers’ success in first few years after Liberation to cultivate the poor land led to their national fame as model workers, prompting a visit by Mao Zedong in 1955. The restaurant squats on a busy Taiyuan intersection in a grey building that resembles a socialist-era factory. According to Manager Zhang the restaurant continues Xigou Village’s tradition of model worker culture 勞動模范文化: one side of a red and gold couplet framing the entrance proudly proclaims, “A Chinese village reflects model labor culture” (the other side proclaims, “Healthy food is a flower of Jin city”). Picture 4: Reconstructed Xigou is on a busy intersection in Taiyuan. Photo by David Wank 173 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Inside the entrance is the Xigou Culture Area 西沟文化區, a two-room museum of the village’s socialist-era history. It is fronted by a statue of Mao Zedong and a plaque of the characters he wrote to commemorate his visit to Xigou Village, “Run a peoples’ commune industriously and thriftily, construct the mountain regions.” The first room is a rural courtyard lined with the doors of Shanxi cave dwellings. Straight ahead is a bronze colored painting of the first Xigou Mutual Aid Team members. To the left, above a rustic well, are six large photographs of Xigou’s model workers alongside photographs of Mao Zedong, Jiang Zemin, Hu Jintao, and other Chinese leaders. The second room replicates the inside of a cave dwelling with a traditional platform bed and a spinning wheel. The walls are lined with photographs of Xigou villagers experiencing “happiness in productive labor,” and scholars and officials from China and abroad visiting Xigou. The menu features Xigou dishes, and also includes Cantonese and SichuanHunan dishes. Manager Zhang explained that the Cantonese and Sichuan-Hunan dishes are included in the menu as they are standard banquet fare in China. They are served alongside Xigou dishes at banquets. Also, these non-local dishes can command a higher price than the local dishes, thereby overcoming the problem of profitability faced by restaurants that only feature local dishes (as in the Picture 5: The Xigou culture area contains a replica of a cave dwelling in Xigou village. Photo by David Wank case of Jinzhong Family). Reconstructed Xigou also serves some Japanese style food, such as norimaki strawberries and bananas with rice.6 Local Xigou dishes have two names on the menu: one being the popular vernacular name and the other a culture name 文化名 created by the restaurant. For example, Xigou stir-fried millet 西沟炒小米 is the vernacular name for a dish that the restaurant calls by the Chinese proverb, “The foolish old man who moved the mountain” 愚公移山. Manager Zhang explained the culture name as follows: “The stir-fried millet on a serving plate resembles a small mountain. Each person takes a spoonful and it is gone.” Another example is clay-baked chicken 泥巴鷄, which goes by the culture name “Chicken feathers go to heaven” 鷄毛上天. According to Manager Zhang, “This is 6. This could also reflect the memories of Japan in Shanxi’s recent history. Japanese advisors and administrative practices played a large role in the government of Yan Xishan 閻錫山, the warlord who ruled Shanxi from the 1920s until the 1949 and is now seen as an enlightened modernizer. 174 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province a proverb of Chairman Mao that means small people can do great things,” an allusion to the extraordinary efforts of Xigou villagers to cultivate their harsh terrain. Customers order dishes in a vast room on the first floor that has the feel of both a government cafeteria and a rural market. All dishes on the menu are displayed on gold-colored tiers arrayed around the floor. The tiers are arranged by category and include “seafood-flavored dishes,” “Sichuan dishes,” “seasonal wild greens,” “classic Xigou dishes,” “daily specialties,” and “Jin flavors.” At the center of the room is a large tank stocked with fish. Ordering dishes replicates the feel of strolling through a market; customers are accompanied by Picture 6: Ordering food in reconstructed Xigou is a stroll through a market. Photo by David Wank a waitress pushing a cart who carries a small register to record the order. If customers tire they can relax in chairs along the floor-to-ceiling windows on the room’s street-side. Running along two walls of the vast room are open kitchens with counters that hold dishes waiting to be served. The cooks are organized into 18 production lines 生產線, a term from socialist-style work organization. Each line has a head cook, second cook, and an assistant who arranges the food on serving plates. Each production line prepares no more than 10 dishes in order to become highly proficient at making them. There are six production lines for Shanxi cuisine, two for Cantonese cuisine, and two for Sichuan-Hunan cuisine, while other production lines specialize in barbecue, noodles, and sweets. The second floor is the red-carpeted Wedding Hall that can seat 450 diners at tables draped with gold colored tablecloths. The third floor contains spacious and elegant private dining rooms. Each room is entered by a small bridge arching over a stream, a scene that evokes the saying, “small bridge, flowing water, family” 小橋流水人家 that expresses tranquility and longing for the homeland. Each room is named by a nostalgic homeland 鄉 theme of Shanxi as in Vinegar Homeland 醋鄉, Wine Homeland 酒鄉, Coal Homeland 煤鄉, and Noodle Homeland 麵鄉. Each room has theme-appropriate décor and art: for example, the Wine Homeland room features calligraphy by the first president of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences Guo Moro 郭沫若 entitled “Visit to Xinghuacun,” to commemorate his tour of the village that produces Shanxi’s signature Fen liquor 汾酒. The fourth floor is laid out to resemble a large village courtyard. At the top of the fourth floor landing is a Large Pagoda Tree 洪洞大槐树, a symbol of nostalgia for the 175 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region homeland.7 To the right is a statue of Li Shunda, Xigou village’s first leader, topped by the slogan “Uplift the family through labor.” Straight ahead is a rustic stonewall with the character for family 家 flanked by the traditional one hundred common family names 老百姓 written in old-style characters. Beyond the wall’s entrance is a rural family courtyard with dining tables alongside a pond and large strange rock 怪石. Natural light streaming from a skylight bathes the entire scene. Running around the courtyard perimeter is a frosted glass wall with etchings of 106 Shanxi scenic and historical sites, beginning with Niangziguan 娘子關 in the east and ending with Ciyun Temple 慈雲寺 in the north. A stroll around the courtyard symbolizes a tour of Shanxi province. The glass is punctuated by heavy wooden doors, creating the impression of conjugal family residences leading off from the central courtyard of a stem family compound. Each door sports a protruding metal lion head and opens into a luxurious private dining room. These rooms are named for a city or county in Shanxi followed by the character for family 家, as, for example, “Taigu Family” 太谷家. The dining rooms have traditional landscape paintings of the Hukou Waterfall (on the Yellow River) and Wutai Mountain (a sacred Buddhist site), and other Shanxi scenes. 2-C. Jinyun Mansion 晋韵楼: Jin Cuisine and Imperial Nostalgia The theme of this vast establishment, which takes Shanxi province’s ancient appellation of Jin 晉 in its name, reflects China’s imperial history. Its façade, stretching an entire city block, is the characteristic grey of Shanxi merchant mansions. According to Manager Qu the restaurant was awarded a five-diamond designation and voted one of the 10 best restaurants in China in 2007. Hanging above the entranceway are half a dozen plaques of awards to the restaurant. Picture 7: The gray walls and red lanterns of Jinyun Mansion’s exterior evoke a Shanxi merchant mansion. Photo by David Wank The cuisine emphasizes dishes from all over Shanxi province. The use of the ancient name of the character Jin 晉 to refer to the cuisine—Jin cuisine 晉菜—embellishes the status of local Shanxi dishes. The menu has many fusion dishes that mix local and non-local ingredients. Innovation is fostered in the restaurant’s Research and Development Group that sends cooks to 7. This tree was the site were people gathered for forced migrations in the Ming Dynasty that relocated many rural Shanxi households to other provinces. 176 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province other restaurants and farmers markets to discover new dishes. During a monthly Recommendation Day the managers try the invented dishes of restaurant employees. An approved dish is put on the menu and the wage of its inventor increased. An example of a fusion dish is the addition of mackerel from south China to the venerable Shanxi dish of squash and millet porridge 金瓜黃米粥. Another Picture 8: Fusion dishes at Jinyun Mansion. Fish has been added to the pumpkin millet soup in the foreground. Photo by David Wank example is wild vegetable ball 野菜丸子, which consists of wild greens (weeds) and dough shaped into small balls and deep-fried. The restaurant supplies stories for these local dishes that place them in an historical context. In one such story the Dowager Empress ate the wild vegetable balls as she fled Beijing during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900. To impart this cuisine knowledge to diners, the waiters and waitresses take regular courses on Shanxi history. Each floor represents a distinct theme from imperial and Shanxi history. Upon entering the restaurant one crosses over a small bridge arching over a stream flanked by a Large Pagoda Tree. To the left is a small store selling Shanxi food products. On the right is a large display of Shanxi dishes and grains, including dozens of Shanxi noodles, pickled vegetables, and cakes, and a display of a traditional grain mills and scales. Beyond this display is a large dining hall covering the rest of the first floor. Its grey brick walls and wooden ceiling beams evoke a rustic courtyard. Numerous woodcarvings and paintings with scenes from Shanxi and Chinese history hang from the walls. The other four floors consist entirely of private dining rooms. The theme of the second floor is Jinzhong merchant culture. The dining rooms are arrayed along a vast hallway lined with the red lanterns of a merchant mansion courtyard. Each room is named after a Shanxi merchant mansion and contains appropriate décor. On the walls of the Changjia Mansion 常家大院 dining room, for example, hangs a couplet about Changjia, stock certificates, and woodcarvings from Changjia, and pictures of Changjia merchants. The third-floor cultural theme is the fourteenth century chronicle Romance of the Three Kingdoms 三國演義.8 The main hallway contains an elaborately 8. Romance of the Three Kingdoms chronicles the events in the turbulent years near the end of the Han Dynasty and the Three Kingdoms era, starting in 169 A.D. and ending with reunification in 280 A.D. 177 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region carved enactment of the famous pear garden scene where the general Guan Yu 關羽, a Shanxi native, becomes sworn blood brothers with two other generals. Plates of Shanxi dried dates rest at their sides. The dining rooms are each named after a character from the story and have relevant décor. For example, in the room named for general Meng De 猛得 scrolls of his famous poems as well as those of Mao Zedong who respected him hang on the Picture 9: Noodle display at Jinyun Mansion. Glass jars under display contain different grains grown in Shanxi. Photo by David Wank walls. The fourth-floor theme highlights famous Shanxi personages and the dining halls contain many symbols of poets, prime ministers, and emperors. For example, one room is devoted to Wu Zetian 武則天, China’s first woman emperor and a Shanxi native, who ruled during the Tang Dynasty. The fifth floor emphasizes China’s emperor culture. The dining rooms are luxurious apartments with bedroom, study, and living rooms furnished in heavy teak furniture. The use of some of these rooms is restricted to state officials of provincial and national ranks. Displays and performances abound. Seated in hallways and on stair landings cooks paint historical figurines made from dough and musicians play classical Chinese music. Some floors have large windows onto the kitchens for customers to view the chefs at work. Rare historical artifacts are exhibited with explanations in Chinese and English. One notable artifact is the Nine Lions Mirror made in the Ming Dynasty and abandoned in Shanxi by the Dowager Empress in her flight during the Boxer Rebellion. The restaurant décor also features its own elaborate representations of Shanxi, such as a large steel outline of Shanxi province stuck into a pedestal of Shanxi coal and covered in chains to symbolize the unity of Shanxi people, and a large mural with scenes from the traditional Shanxi merchant superimposed over banking a economy yellow Waterfall. Picture 10: Photograph of officials making noodles at Jinyun Mansion. Photo by David Wank 178 Hukou Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province Photographs of visiting cultural and political dignitaries who have dined at Jinyun Mansion grace the walls. They show beaming state officials with restaurant service personnel or watching displays of noodle-making. The high rank of the national officials is remarkable: they include trade minister Bo Xi 薄熙, vice chair of the People’s Consultative Conference and chair of the China Enterprise Directors Association Chen Jinhua 陳錦華, vice chair of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress Li Tieying 李铁映, and vice chair and secretary general of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress Sheng Huaren 盛华仁 . 3. Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism How does the production and consumption of culinary nostalgia of Shanxi local dish restaurants reflect wrenching economic changes? The market economy in China was stimulated by economic reforms policies inspired by neo-liberal ideas of individual responsibility and choice, and a free market with minimal state presence. First instituted in late 1979, these reforms deepened considerably after 1992 through such institutions as stock markets and the corporatization of state enterprises (Kwong 2006). While this has created national consumer markets (Davis 2000, Lu 2008) it has also intensified the need for personal ties to state officials and agencies by entrepreneurs (Huang 2008, Wank 1999). This disjuncture between the market and state fields is seen in the local dish restaurants: the consumption of culinary nostalgia is positioned in the field of the market while its production overlaps with the field of state power. 3-A. Consuming Culinary Nostalgia as Imagined Nation in the Market Economy Swislocki has argued that culinary nostalgia is a means for people to imagine themselves and their region in broader processes of social change: to this I would add that it also enables people to imagine the nation. To understand this, it is key to recognize that many consumers of Shanxi local dishes are not from Shanxi. They number many tourists, conventioneers, and traveling businesspersons, especially in the larger establishments such as Jinyun Mansion and Reconstructed Xigou that are on national tour itineraries. A trend, not discussed in this essay, is that local dish restaurants also operate extra-locally. For example, a chain of Shanxi local dish restaurants called Shanxi Country Residence 晉鄉居 operates in Tianjin and other cities outside of Shanxi province. The branches of its menus features Shanxi dishes, while its grey walls and arched ceilings are instantly recognizable Shanxi architecture. This patronage of new local dish restaurants by non-local consumers is occurring in regard to other local cuisines as well. For example, Yuxiang Folks 渝乡人家 is a 179 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region restaurant chain in Beijing that serves food from Chongqing, Sichuan province. Founded in 1999, its cuisine and décor evoke the “local” and “coarse” foods of rural and common Sichuan people: there are huge earthen vats of pickles, hanging bunches of dried peppers and garlic, and waitresses in rustic clothes. To understand the experience of non-local consumers in a local dish restaurant I draw on the insights of Benedict Anderson Picture 11: Branch of Jin Country Residence, a Shanxi local dish restaurant chain in the northern port city of Tianjin. Source: www.xunv.cn (2006). He explains nationalism as an imagined community that is produced by shared recognition of key symbols that produce boundaries of inclusion and exclusion. This recognition, in turn reflects common experiences of population movement and their subsequent reification in such symbols as map, tomb of the unknown soldier, census, and museum. In a similar fashion, trips to local food restaurants constitute a figurative trip around China. Just as a walk around Reconstructed Xigou’s courtyard is a walk around Shanxi province so visits to local food restaurants are a stroll around China. Just as the 106 scenes are contained with the boundaries of Shanxi province, so are the local dish restaurants of multiple locales perceived as inside China. By traveling around China, literally as a tourist or figuratively as a diner, a person can experience multiple culinary nostalgias as the local cultures and histories of a larger entity that is recognized as China. The possibility for a national imaginary depends on a homogeneous symbolic medium that can be instantly understood by far-flung persons. For Anderson, this was achieved by print capitalism, which lead to the standardization of language. For local dish restaurants, this precondition is the symbolic repertoire of homeland and rural tranquility that are instantly recognizable as “Chinese” and that evoke certain emotions. These symbols, such as the Large Pagoda Trees, arched footbridges, and characters for family 家 and homeland 嚮, abound in the local dish restaurants. Such props as large vats of pickles and liquor and open-air kitchens are recognizable symbols of common salt-of-the earth people. Other popular symbolic repertoires of wealth, fertility, and good fortune such as peaches, peonies, phoenixes, and the number 8,9 adorn the wallpaper, woodcarvings, and paintings.10 All of the local dish restaurants weave this standard repertoire of symbols into their representation of the “unique” culture of a specific locale. 9. The significance of Jinyun Mansion’s practice of imposing an eight percent surcharge on private dining rooms and a minimum bill of RMB8,888 in its top-of-the-line Tang Pavilion would be immediately recognizable to diners. Likewise, the practices of another restaurant that I visited including the letter “V” and the number 8 in all of its private dining rooms, as in V218, V228, V238 would be immediately understandable. “V” stands for VIP, “2” is the floor number, “8” is a symbol of wealth, while the middle number is the actual room number. 10. Many of these symbols resonate so widely and have such a long history that they should be considered symbols of a civilization rather than the more recent nation. 180 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province Dining at local dish restaurants enables patrons to imagine themselves simultaneously as in a place with a distinct history and culture, and also part of China. This has some obvious parallels with the ethnic food boom in the United States where the association of different foods with different ethnic groups constitutes an imaginary “multicultural” nation. Indeed many of the same traits that Americans ascribe to ethnicity, such as accent, dress, occupation, and stereotyped behavior, is attributed to locality in China. The legitimation of a conception of personhood that recognizes individuated differences is a crucial ideological component of market economy that needs to legitimate differential distributions of wealth and while also standardizing consumer behavior in national markets. The creation of perceptions of unique individuation through a common model is constitutive of modern state and market orders. John Meyer (1986) has argued that the modern concept of personhood through the concept of “individual” assumes a standard definition of an individual possessing specified categorical qualities. Standardized individuation is, Meyer suggests, both a product of and functional for state bureaucratic administration of large populations and for efficiencies of scale in market economies. The culinary nostalgia produced by local dish restaurants positions individuals as consumers who express their individual tastes and choices in the formation of national consumer behavior. 3-B. Producing Culinary Nostalgia as Capital Conversions of State Power The production of local dish culinary nostalgia overlaps with the field of state power. First, are the capital conversions of the symbols of state power into economic capital (Bourdieu 1987). The larger and more prosperous the restaurant, the greater the profusion of these symbols in representations of culinary nostalgia. Symbols of political power are noticeably lacking in Jinzhong Family. It emphasizes the healthy and local aspects of local dishes and evokes a culinary nostalgia of the Shanxi merchant-bankers. In Reconstructed Xigou there are references to political leaders of the Communist Party but they are circumscribed in two ways. First, symbols of state power are confined to a few locations in the restaurant, such as the Xigou Culture Area. Secondly, the display of state officials foregrounds the local place. For example, pictures of Mao and other leaders document their visits to Xigou village. In Jinyun Mansion, the largest and most prosperous of the restaurants, the representation of state power pervades the restaurant to the point of overwhelming the theme of local dish. Statues and paintings of famous generals and statements are found in many rooms; photos of officials who have dined at the restaurants adorn the hallways; and some dining rooms are restricted to officials above a certain rank. This concern with state power reaches an apex in the Jinyun Mansion’s annex 181 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region that features dishes from the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse 釣魚臺國賓館.11 Located in Beijing, the guesthouse is where China’s national leaders entertain foreign national leaders. It has no connection with Shanxi: here the theme of state power completely displaces the theme of locality. Second, the operation of the restaurants as businesses is embedded in the conversions of political capital and social capital, respectively defined as advantages that derive from office holding in the government or Communist Party and from personal ties to office holders, into economic capital. In understanding how the restaurants are able to have choice urban locations on state-owned land, and handle the myriad licensing requirements and other demands of various state agencies, the social and political capitals of the owners and managers are important. Manager Song of Jinzhong Family, a former cadre in the Jinzhong City government, has the lowest ranking connections and his restaurant is the smallest and least profitable. In the case of Jinyun Mansion and Reconstructed Xigou, their connections reach to the central state. The director of the board of Reconstructed Xigou, Shen Jilan 申紀籃, is a legendary “revolutionary woman” and the longest serving member of the National People’s Congress since her appointment in the 1950s.12 Manager Qu of Jinyun Mansion served for 20 years in the People’s Liberation Army and then worked in the Shanxi Provincial Government Reception Committee in Beijing in charge of entertaining visiting Shanxi dignitaries and arranging Shanxi-style entertainment for other officials. His social and political capitals have also undoubtedly expanded the restaurants’ customer base: Jinyun Mansion is a venue for the Shanxi provincial government to entertain visiting dignitaries. Thirdly, the restaurants strive to produce the symbolic capital of serving the public good and compliance with state policies. Manager Zhang sees the restaurant as a window 窗口, bridge 橋梁, and school 學校 for rural Xigou village. On the one hand, the restaurant employs youth from Xigou Village: the youth migrate to Taiyuan where they are trained in the service industry and exposed to the outside world. On the other hand, the restaurant teaches non-villagers about the village’s glorious socialist past. She avers, “Reconstructed Xigou has become a site of socialist education” and is proud that the restaurant is a village government run enterprise. In the case of Jinyun Mansion, Manager Qu emphasizes its prominent role in the local labor market. The restaurant employs almost 1,000 personnel, including 700 waiters and 11. The annex is located in a separate building across the street from the main building of Jinyun Mansion. It is supervised by a former chef from the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse. The dining hall consists of a large round table laid with Italian silverware and dishes in an opulent room decorated in Chinese patterns. 12. Shen Jilan is famous for founding a pioneering cooperative in 1951 where men and women received equal pay for equal work. In 1952 she became a National Model Worker. 182 Culinary Nostalgia and Chinese Neo-Liberalism: Local Dish Resturants in Shanxi Province waitresses, and 200 cooks, as well as managers, guards, and janitorial staff. He remarked that the restaurant’s history and culture classes raise the “human quality” 素質 of the employees. His use of this term reflects a concern of the political and intellectual elites to upgrade the quality of Chinese people through education (Kipnis 2006). 4. Conclusion Local dish culinary nostalgia enables persons to imagine a China composed of multiple differences. This Chinese-style multiculturalism has replaced the Maoera imaginary of a homogenous proletarian class nation (struggling to purge itself of class enemies). It is also fitting that this new imaginary is being produced in business establishments rather than the state-led mass campaigns that produced the proletarian class imaginary. Yet the culinary nostalgia of the local dish boom overlaps with the field of state power. Many symbols of locality valorize state power and the restaurants operate through social and political capital with the state. The culinary nostalgia of local dishes in Shanxi reflects the disjunctive implementation of the neoliberal economic policies that have created highly competitive consumer markets alongside entrepreneurship embedded in ties to state power. 183 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References Anderson, Benedict. 2006. Imagined Communities (London: Verso). Bourdieu, Pierre. 1987. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press). Davis, Deborah S. 2000. The Consumer Revolution in Urban China (Berkeley: University of California Press). Huang Yasheng. 2008. Capitalism with Chinese Characteristics: Entrepreneurship and the State (New York: Cambridge University Press). Hubbert, Jennifer. 2007. “Serving the Past on a Platter: Cultural Revolution Restaurants in Contemporary China,” The Restaurants Book: Ethnographies of Where We Eat, edited by David Beriss and David Sutton, pp. 79-96 (Oxford: Berg). Kipnis, Andrew. 2006. “Suzhi: A Keyword Approach,” The China Quarterly (June): 295-313. Kwang, Peter. 2006. “The Chinese Face of Neoliberalism,” Counterpunch (October 7/8). http://www. counterpunch.org Lu, Pierre Xiao. 2008. Elite China: Luxury Consumer Behavior in China. (Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley and Sons). Meyer. John W. 1986. “Myths of Socialization and Personality,” Reconstructing Individualism, edited by Thomas C. Heller et al, pp. 212-225 (Stanford: Stanford University Press). Swislocki, Mark. 2009. Culinary Nostalgia: Regional Food Culture and the Urban Experience in Shanghai (Stanford: Stanford University Press). Yano, Christine. 2007. “Side Dish Kitchens: Japanese American Delicatessens and the Culture of Nostalgia”, The Restaurants Book: Ethnographies of Where We Eat, edited by David Beriss and David Sutton, pp. 47-63 (Oxford: Berg). Wank, David L. 1999. Commodifying Communism: Business, Trust, and Politics in a Chinese City (New York: Cambridge University Press). Zhao, Hongkui. 2007. “The Unique Charms of the Culture of Traditional Foods in Jinzhong,” Rethinking Locales in Globalization: China’s Shanxi Province in Comparative Perspective, edited by David L. Wank, Linda Grove, and James Farrer, pp. 63-64 (Tokyo: Sophia AGLOS). 184 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 11 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Mauro Neves Copyright © 2010 by Mauro Neves All rights reserved 185 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region I. Introduction This research explores the ways the film, Como agua para chocolate (Like Water for Chocolate, Alfonso Arau, 1992) can be seen as a food film, as defined by Anne L. Bower (2004, 1-13), and in which aspects the film even surpasses this definition. My approach is based on certain premises concerning the relationship between food, film, culture, and Mexico. The food culture itself takes primary importance as a device, on film, to reflect or to introduce familiar aspects of a culture, this being the central idea to such works as Keller’s (2006), Bower’s (2004), and Zimmerman and Weiss’ (2005). It is the near nonexistence of works on the relation between Mexican food and Mexican film that prompted me to ask why there is so little interest in this kind of research. Photo by Mauro Neves 186 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Related to the premise is the fact that almost no film in the Mexican industry, with the exception of Como agua para chocolate, has food as the main topic. It would be possible to imagine two other Mexican films belonging to the food film genre: Cilantro y perejil (Recipes to Stay Together, Rafael Montero, 1995), and Corazón de melón (Melon’s Heart, Luis Vélez, 2003), but neither of them have reached a broad audience, nor have they inspired much criticism or discussion. Additionally, Cilantro y perejil focuses more on one couple’s problems and how they try to solve them than on the subject of the food itself. Corazón de melón is merely a superficial love story that centers on a fat, unhappy girl and a Mexican chef. Commentaries on Como agua para chocolate tend to analyze the film through other points of view, mostly gender (Spina 1998, 210-26) or sexuality (Shaw 2003). There is also a tendency among Mexican film critics to ignore the importance of this film, as evidenced by its lack of mention in such an important publication on Mexican film history as Mexican National Cinema (Noble 2005), and by the negative image of the film I Photo by Mauro Neves got in interviews with Mexican film researchers of the film. It should be pointed out that even when Mexican critics did assign some importance to this film it is because of its negative representation of the Mexican Revolution. However, I believe that this film represents a positive turning point in Mexican cinema. The first reason for this viewpoint is that even though the film was produced during a period when the Mexican film industry was undergoing both an economic and creative crisis, it became a huge success with the public. Another reason is that the film successfully experimented with mixing the themes of the Mexican Revolution, magical realism and popular cinema. But most of all, being the first Mexican film centered on Mexican food it prompted a reinterpretation of the relationship between food, family ties, and gender in Mexico. It also provided discussions abroad of Mexican food, somehow creating an erroneous image of Mexican food being part of a cultural cauldron involving sensuality and machismo. 187 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region It is not very common in Latin America to have food-centered films, as is the case in some parts of Asia (especially China1 and Korea2), or Europe (France, in particular3), but Como agua para chocolate provided exactly that local space needed for the exploration of such a regional theme. However, instead of researching regional films centered on food, I will concentrate on an analysis of this film as a food-centered film. I will also consider other foodrelated aspects as presented, for instance, by Barnard (2004, 75-85) in his effort to find the meaning of modernity and its connection with food in the Malay films of the 1950s and 1960s, or Abrams (2004, 87-100) when relating food and race, in this case among the Jews, through film. II. Defining a food film The literature on food film as a genre is still essentially restricted to three major works: Keller (2006), Bower (2004) and Zimmerman and Weiss (2005). Because of this restriction, food films as a genre are still regarded as a complete novelty, even in the area of film studies. There are, however, a number of films that could be perceived by the spectator as food films, but one could argue that a film becomes a food film only when food remains the dominant symbolic element as the narrative unfolds. To clarify this category, Zimmerman and Weiss provide a long and very informative list of films that could be defined as food films (2005). It is not surprising that filmmakers in many genres consider using food to communicate emotions, but having a cook as the main character does not necessarily make it a food film, even though most of the films defined as food films have a chef as the main character, as is the case with La grande bouffe (The Big Feast, Marco Ferreri, 1973), Babettes gaestebud (Babette’s Feast, Gabriel Axel, 1987) or No Reservations (Scott Hicks, 2007). When considering films connected or centered on food, it usually comes to mind that such films are related to some aspect of ethnicity, that is, food is a part of what defines a national culture as a whole. This may be the reason why it is easier to find food films, for instance, in China, India, France or Japan, than in more ethnically mixed cultures like the U.S., Canada, Brazil or Australia. 1. For example (among others): Sik san (The God of Cookery, Stephen Chow and Lik-Chi Lee, 1996), Jin yu man tang (The Chinese Feast, Tsui Hark, 1995), and Moh waan chue fong (The Magic Kitchen, ChiNgai Lee, 2004). 2. For example (among others): 301/302 (Cheol-su Park, 1997). In the case of Korea it is also important mentioning that there are plenty of TV dramas and series also centered on food and its preparation. 3. For example (among others): La grande bouffe (The Big Feast, Marco Ferreri, 1973), Delicatessen (Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro, 1991). 188 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion “Food has been part of film since films began, yet only recently have we given extended attention to the many and sometimes startling ways that food functions in movies” (Bower 2004, 3). But why should food be so important in a narrative? I would suggest that it is essentially because through this medium we can express copious emotions: love, sensuality, anger, rebellion, violence and so on, yet also through food, the film contributes to the construction of a sexual, national or ethnic identity. As Como agua para chocolate demonstrates, showing in detail the preparation and the consumption of food can serve the function of reassuring a cultural continuity. It can also show, as in the example of Nina’s Heavenly Delights (Pratibha Parmar, 2006), how food not only reveals the cultural elements of a community (in this case, and Indian community in Scotland) but also the way food and sexuality can combine to express sensuality and to break prejudices. On the other extreme, cannibalism or food disorder, for example, it is possible to depict disruptions, and even political or religious opinions, an aspect we can see in such film characters as Elena and Rosaura and their lack of enjoyment when eating. A good example of a film that shows, through cannibalism, a way of criticizing dictatorship is Delicatessen (Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro, 1991). As noted earlier, food has been used as a device in films since the beginning of cinema, but food film as a genre is still in the emulative stage. So, what are the ingredients that make a film into a food film? First, food has to play a star role, not simply when the main characters are cooking or not, as is the case with Como agua para chocolate. What is important is not the main character, but the ways in which the camera is used to make the preparation and presentation of food that dominate the screen. The food and the process of preparing the various dishes are important not only in leading the spectator through the narrative, but also in creating a desire to taste the food as it appears on the screen. This is the main distinction between food film as a genre and other genres: the effort to inspire the other senses—smell and taste—in connection with the food itself. This is the sensation the spectator experiences in watching the preparation of the quail in rose petal sauce in Como agua para chocolate. The preparation of food might also take the spectator to Japan in a search for noodles like in Tampopo (Dandelion, Juzo Itami, 1985) or Udon (Katsuyuki Motohiro, 2006) It is also essential that the kitchen be the main setting as the narrative develops, whether in a restaurant, a home, or a shop where food is sold. The kitchen is the place where the narrative advances and where conflicts take place. If the dining table takes importance as the location for conflicts, it is not difficult to accept even 189 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region a film so complex as Da hong deng long gao gao gua (Raise the Red Lantern, Zhang Yimou, 1991) as a food film. The last, but probably the most important ingredient in making a food film is to assure that the narrative line consistently depicts characters negotiating such questions as identity, power, culture, class, spirituality, or personal relationships through food. Considering these three elements, there is no doubt that Como agua para chocolate can be considered as an ideal representative of the food film genre. In the next section, I will carry out a comprehensive visual and textual analysis of the film, and through this analysis, it should become clear why, and in which aspects, Como agua para chocolate uses food to communicate other ingredients. III. Narrative, food and emotions The film starts with a close-up of an onion being sliced while the narrator, who happens to be the grandniece of the principal character, starts to tell the story of how the women in her family are connected to food. Opening the first scene with the slicing of an onion is practically a declaration that it is going to be a food film. The narrator then makes a connection with Tita’s life: her emotions, represented by her crying, and the food, represented by the act of slicing an onion. Throughout the film, we can feel how the choice of a particular dish helps to define not only each female character, but also the Mexican national identity as a whole. These elements are further analyzed by López-Rodrigues (2004, 61-73). The novel upon which the film is based (Esquivel 1989) is divided into twelve sections corresponding to 12 recipes,4 as in a cookbook—in this case, one for each month of the year. In the film, the plot is structured around location and time. While abandoning the novel’s organization according to recipes, the film maintains the importance of the food via the narrative, accompanied by beautiful food closeups that have more screen time than most of the actors. Hence it is clear to the audience that food is the central character. We are first taken to Rio Grande, North of Mexico, on September, 1895, and learn through the narrator that Tita, the main character, would cry while still in her mother’s womb. Then, one day when Tita’s mother, Elena, was slicing onions, she gave birth to Tita in the kitchen, in the middle of a torrent of teardrops. Then Nacha, 4. All the recipes can be tasted at the restaurant which carries the same name as the novel and film located in Oaxaca. There, I had the opportunity to taste some of the dishes during my research for this paper in March, 2008. 190 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion their native Mexican cook, collected the now-dried tears, which were stalked as 20kg of salt to be used for cooking. This scene takes us to a world of magical realism through the drama of crying and birth, where even the dried teardrops become salt to be used in the cooking of food. We are also introduced to the way food goes through a process of “Mexicanization,” first through the direct influence of Nacha and then by Tita herself. The author explains the process this way: One does see, in contrast, as evidence of Mexico’s cultural mixture, that the characters have renounced the indigenous frugality of eating only to satisfy hunger in favor of the Spanish gusto and abundance that turns any meal into a social event to be shared with friends and relatives. (López-Rodrigues 2004, 63) We are then introduced to the rest of the family: the father and two other daughters, when gossip turns to the unfaithful origin of one of the daughters, Gertrudis, who becomes the reason for the sudden death of Tita’s father just some days after she was born. This incident leads to Elena’s breast milk drying, and Tita being taken under the direct protection of Nacha, who feeds her. Elena then proclaims that Tita will never be allowed to marry, because she must care for her till her death, as is the family tradition. Thus Nacha becomes both protector, and cooking teacher of Tita from her childhood. Most of Tita’s childhood is spent in the kitchen, where she is preparing, serving or eating food. But since these early days, there is an attraction between Tita and Pedro, a boy from the neighborhood. We are then taken to 1910, the year the Mexican Revolution began, and also the year when, at a house party given by Elena, Pedro proposes to Tita in the dispensary. Here again, emotions—love, as the case may be—are connected to food. But while accepting the proposal, Tita says that she cannot marry. Tita pleads with her mother to allow the marriage, but this ends in an unresolved argument. Some days later, on Tita’s birthday, Pedro and his father, Pascual, come to ask for Tita’s hand in marriage. Elena not only refuses, but makes arrangements for Rosaura, the eldest daughter, to marry Pedro instead. Chencha, the younger native Mexican servant, overhears this and in surprise and anger reveals the news to the three sisters, who are waiting in the kitchen, which, once again, is the main focus of the narrative. Nacha overhears from outside the house (when Pedro and Pascual are returning home) that Pedro has only agreed to marry Rosaura to be close to Tita. Consequently, Tita refuses to eat and starts to knit and cry. Refusing to eat is connected to unhappiness, and knitting is an attempt to conceal the unhappiness under the guise of a productive activity. 191 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region We could interpret this connection between unhappiness, refusing food, and knitting as a way of showing that food and libido are connected, while knitting is a work that can contribute to overcoming the libido. This sense is also expressed by the narrator, who relates that from this day on Tita always feels cold at night. No wonder Tita knits the same bedcover every night as a way of forgetting Pedro, a scene that repeats itself until the day she is taken away from the ranch by John. Elena forbids Tita to cry over the marriage of Pedro and Rosaura, and determines, as well, that Tita is going to be responsible for preparing of all the food for the wedding reception. There is an interlude between Tita and Pedro, again in the kitchen, but Tita refuses to listen to Pedro’s excuses for marrying her sister. The main dish, chosen by Elena, to be served in the wedding banquet is capons, a metaphor suggesting a wedding without sexual happiness, because the wedding between Rosaura and Pedro ends in the destruction of Pedro and Tita’s dream of a life together. While preparing the wedding cake (a cake prepared with 170 eggs) Tita cries inside the batter, while Nacha tries to console her. During the wedding ceremony, Pedro once again attempts to explain to Tita why he is marrying Rosaura, but Elena threatens to destroy Tita if she ever gets close to him again. When the guests eat the wedding cake, they start first to cry, then to vomit, becoming intoxicated by the cake. Here again sadness is connected to refusing food, vomiting, and intoxication, another way, in an extreme sense, of connecting food and pleasure. Elena runs first to her room and to the memories of her mulatto lover, Gertrudis’ father, but, then, goes after Tita accusing her of trying to destroy Rosaura’s happiness by intoxicating the wedding guests. It is subsequently revealed that Nacha has died, apparently due to Tita’s unhappiness. It is again in the dispensary where Nacha is found dead, this time bringing unhappiness, as before, into the realm of food. Now married, Pedro refuses Rosaura’s advances for a while, but finally they have sexual intercourse after about three months. Rosaura, after having sex for the first time—again the film connecting food and libido—decides to cook for the first time, but her cooking is awful and causes the members of the family to have bouts of diarrhea. The message here is that food must be prepared with love, not lust. Henceforth, the relationship between Pedro and Rosaura is one of sex, not love, and the food she prepares is hardly a symbol of happiness—a food that can barely be consumed. Pedro gives roses to Tita in front of all the family thanking her for cooking for the family, but Elena demands that Tita throw the roses away. Instead, inspired by a 192 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion visit of the ghost of Nacha, Tita prepares quail in rose petal sauce.5 The preparation of this dish is revealed in detail, underscoring the climax of the film as a food film. It represents all the potential love and passion that Tita nurtures for Pedro. When eaten, the dish produces a sensual heat in all the members of the family, especially in Gertrudis in whom—according to the narration—sexual intercourse between Pedro and Tita through the pleasure of eating is consummated. In a sense, the cooking inverts the traditional sexual order, making Pedro—the man—the passive recipient rather than the active transmitter of passion. In another interpretation of the film, Pedro is similarly seen as somewhat effeminate compared to the traditional way of portraying men in Mexican cinema (de la Mora 2006). Here again the only member of the family not to feel anything positive from the food is Rosaura, who is the symbol of unhappiness in the family. But the heat in Gertrudis is so intense that she goes to take a shower, only to put the shower room in flames. Then Juan, a revolutionary whom she has met before, and reacting to the scent of the roses issuing from Gertrudis body, comes for her and carries her away. Subsequently there is gossip that Gertrudis is working in a bordello somewhere between the U.S. boarder and Mexico. The news prompts Elena to declare that Gertrudis is no longer her daughter and she burns all the memories related to her. In the meantime, Tita nearly discovers the truth: that Gertrudis is the illegitimate daughter of Elena and her mulatto lover. But she does not become fully aware of this truth until late in the narrative, hence contact with her sister continues. When Rosaura gives birth to her son, Tita, in the absence of a doctor, is the first one to help her. Eventually, Pedro is able to summon John, an American doctor who lives in the area, and when he sees Tita he immediately falls in love. But she tells him she is not allowed to marry—a revelation he finds amazing and absurd. This could be seen as a way of criticizing a tradition brought from the Iberian Peninsula to Mexico that had not quite penetrated Texas, where John comes from. While preparing food for the celebration of birth (mole poblano or mole de guajolote), a Mexican combination of chili, chocolate, pumpkin seeds, peanuts and tomato with Spanish ingredients such as raisins, almonds and sesame seeds, and tortilla), Pedro admires Tita’s breasts.6 It is a lovely, sensual scene, again happening in the kitchen, connecting food, libido, tradition and motherhood. It is a moment so powerful that Tita, even if still 5. This is the most popular dish offered at the restaurant in Oacaxa, according to the owner—interview conducted in March, 2008. 6. For details on these dishes as well as other Mexican national dishes, I would suggest consulting LongSolís and Vargas (2005). 193 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region a virgin, is able to produce breast milk. The Mexican traditional food prepared during this scene not only portrays of the way Mexican food came into existence—through the mixing of traditional native Mexican ingredients with Spanish ingredients—but also shows the sense of libido food can generate. López-Rodriguez (2004) notes that mole was, at one time, forbidden to women during the colonial period because of its supposed aphrodisiac quality. Here the narrative relies on the aphrodisiac quality of the dish to allow Tita the opportunity to get close to Pedro under the guise of breast feeding his son, Roberto. This idyllic scene is interrupted by Chencha, who comes with news about the Mexican Revolution and the cruelty of Pancho Villa. In this manner, that is, through the Revolution, spectators and film characters are abruptly returned from fantasy to reality. This is a common device used in Mexican films in which the narrative concentrates on the Mexican Revolution (Tuñón 1995). Meanwhile, Rosaura is sick and without breast milk (again a reflex of her unhappiness), while Tita feeds her nephew by herself, but always without Elena knowing that she is able to do it. Despite the hazards caused by the Revolution, Elena decides to send Rosaura, Pedro and their son to San Antonio. But before their departure, there is another scene that dramatizes the difference between Tita and Elena. We see Elena slicing watermelons with much violence, to which Chencha comments that while Tita produces food, Elena is good only at destroying it. In this way, the narrative suggests how Tita, though her happiness is not consummated, has found contentment, whereas Elena has not. Where Tita uses ingredients and kitchen utensils to create love, a positive emotion, Elena’s hands only destroy the food and turn the kitchen utensils in weapons. During the night before leaving, Pedro and Tita almost consummate their love through sexual intercourse, but they are interrupted by Elena. Later a group of revolutionaries appear at the ranch trying to sack it, but Elena succeeds in keeping them away. In a way, this scene again demonstrates Elena’s ability to destroy any possible change in the narrative. Another defining moment is the scene where Tita is bathing Elena—Tita, forever helpful and caring, while her mother, shows endless mistreatment and complaints. Then, from the rear of the kitchen, Chencha arrives with the news that Roberto has died of starvation. Elena insists that Tita and Chencha stop crying, but, for the first time, Tita disobeys her mother and accuses her of killing Roberto by having him sent away. 194 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Here again starvation—the absence of food—is connected to unhappiness and death. But this is also the point where the narrative shows how food can also be the source of Tita’s rebellion. For the first time in her life, she stands up against her mother and then locks herself in the pigeon house, remaining there for several days. Deducing that she has become crazy, Elena calls for John, the doctor. John takes Tita away from the ranch—the first time in her life to leave—and she starts to live in his home in Eagle Pass. Free for the first time from her mother’s control, Tita has no idea of what to do with her hands nor does she have any desire to eat—a condition emphasizing the connection between unhappiness and mental confusion. But in another scene, John explains to Tita the principle of combustion, and gradually there develops a connection between emotions, food-preparation, chemistry, religion, and the discovery of divine paradise itself. It is amazing how tenderly John introduces Tita to the production of matches, much as one would follow a cooking recipe. But even more significant is the show of respect he has for women, especially indigenous ones. He kept it ever since receiving the information about their divine properties from his own native Mexican grandmother. Subsequently Chencha visits Tita and brings her back to normality through the intervention of a Mexican chicken broth. Again, food works like a medicine, and after consuming the broth Tita relates to Chencha that she is not going back to the ranch. John then proposes marriage to Tita and she accepts. In the meantime, however, the ranch is ransacked by bandits, ending in Chencha’s rape and Elena’s death. This event brings Tita back to the ranch and alters the course of her life. During Elena’s funeral, Tita and Pedro meet again, and as a consequence of Elena’s death, Rosaura gives birth prematurely to a daughter, Esperanza. John declares that Rosaura is too sick to care for the child, so Tita takes responsibility. Esperanza is kept in the kitchen with Tita and always cries if she is taken away, especially if she is in the company of Rosaura. Here again, the kitchen becomes the center of the narrative and the ultimate representative of happiness. Moreover, Esperanza embodies the essence of modern Mexico, since she contains within herself the tradition and love for cooking through the influences of two surrogate mothers, Nacha, the indigenous one, and Tita, the white one. John’s son, Alex, expresses his wish to marry Esperanza in the future, but Rosaura says this is not possible because she will have to take care of her according to family tradition. Tita, angry with this declaration of Esperanza’s future, prepares some food that will further affect Rosaura’s health, beginning with certain digestive problems. Here the narrative connects anger and the loss of health through food. 195 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region I would disagree with López-Rodriguez’ interpretation of Rosaura’s digestive problems as the personification of Mexico’s traditionally patriarchial society not being able to digest the Revolution (2004, 67). I see it more as a way of showing that unhappiness and the absence of sexual pleasure leads to the refusal of food as a means of not being able to produce it in the first place, as we see in Rosaura’s inability to cook. In the case of Rosaura, the absence of emotions (aside from jealousy and unhappiness) makes it impossible for her to digest or produce her food with any degree of pleasure. Moreover, while the Revolution may have modified the Mexico’s traditions, it has not actually changed the country’s patriarchal system. Thus it would seem strange to interpret Rosaura’s digestive problems as a metaphor of the patriarchal system fighting against the Revolution, when in fact the system was fighting to survive through it. John asks for Pedro and Rosaura’s consent to marry Tita, and they accept. But inwardly Pedro is burning with jealousy. He then comes unexpectedly to Tita’s room and for the first time they have sexual intercourse, an act that causes fire and tempest emanating from the ghost of Elena. Feeling miserable due to her digestive problems, Rosaura asks Tita for some advice on how to get Pedro back. Tita not only suggests that she take mint leaves for bad breath, but decides to prepare a special diet to help her control her flatulence. Again food is seen as cure for someone’s unhappiness and sickness. In fact, Tita’s anger towards Rosaura has abated, since she believes she is carrying Pedro’s child. However, while preparing rosca de Reyes (ring-shaped nuts and dried fruits cake), Tita is persecuted by the ghost of Elena, who puts a curse on her and the child she is supposed to be carrying. During a party where the cake is served, the ghost of Elena appears again and Tita faints, but she is saved by the unexpected entrance of Juan and Gertrudis, who have arrived with their group of revolutionaries, and they transform the party into a dancing one. This scene depicts the Mexican Revolution as a way of breaking the traditions of the Mexican aristocracy, which is represented here by the ghost of Elena. From this point on Mexican society is to be a more open one, the dance, serving as the metaphor for this major change. In the kitchen, Gertrudis tells Tita that the only thing she misses in her life as a revolutionary is the comfort of home food. Here the narrative connects two opposed emotions: reality and brutality, as represented by the Revolution, and tranquility and happiness, as represented by food. Tita tells Gertrudis she is pregnant, and Gertrudis sees this as a sign that Tita and Pedro can finally be happy with each other. This dialogue might be interpreted as the way Mexican society viewed women before the Revolution and the way they were viewed after. 196 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Tita then lets Pedro know she is pregnant and Pedro proposes that she go away with him, but she refuses because of her responsibility to Esperanza. Gertrudis asks one of the revolutionaries in the group to cook for her, but he can not succeed. Once again, this brings to the narrative the traditional connection between women, kitchen and food. But since the Revolution has resulted in a more open society and has elevated the position of Mexican women, the male revolutionary ultimately succeeds in preparing the meal, which is approved by Tita. Another interpretation is offered by de la Mora (2006). He suggests that this scene is a criticism of machismo, where the male is finally placed in a position of weakness, while the female succeeds easily and without restriction. Intoxicated, Pedro starts serenading Tita, and at this moment the ghost of Elena appears once more to Tita, but Tita shows no fear and casts the apparition away by telling her mother she already has found out about the truth of Gertrudis’ origin. According to the narrator the ghost of Elena leaves forever, but not before punishing Pedro by catching him in a fire that almost kills him. With the complete disappearance of Elena’s ghost, Tita discovers that her pregnancy was only the product of her imagination. She nurses Pedro’s scars caused by the fire, and the ghost of Nacha appears to help, Tita assuming her love to Pedro in front of Rosaura for the first time, when he calls for her instead of Rosaura to take care of him. The appearance of the ghost of Nacha for the second time in the narrative tells us that despite her demise her indigenous traditions will continue to survive through Tita. Tita tells John that she cannot marry him because she has had a sexual relationship with Pedro and is no longer a virgin. John says that he doesn’t care and still loves her. To him, what is really important is her happiness. The film then shifts to 1934, and we are shown in minute detail the preparation for chiles en nogada, another very traditional Mexican food, created to celebrate Agustín de Iturbide’s signing of the Treaty of Córdoba in 1821. In this treaty Spain recognized Mexico’s independence, marking as well the colors of Mexico’s national flag. The flag’s colors are represented by a combination of green of the peppers with creamy white sauce and red pomegranate seeds. Hence the narrative chooses to highlight through this wedding ceremony, Mexico’s new status as an independent nation. We hear from some of the guests that Rosaura died several years ago because of indigestion. More specifically, she died of what had symbolized her presence throughout the narrative: the impossibility of consuming food in a healthy way. 197 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region After eating, all the guests are filled with happiness and sensuality. Pedro proposes marriage to Tita while they dance, and she accepts. After all the guests have left, Pedro and Tita, alone in the ranch for the first time, share unbridled sexual intercourse, but Pedro dies during the orgasm. Tita, remembering John’s words on combustion, and guided by the ghost of Nacha for the last time, creates a fire and leaves together with Pedro to Paradise. According to the narrator, we are told that the only thing that survived the fire, which completely consumed the ranch, was Tita’s diary, where she kept her recipes. Finally, with Tita’s and Esperanza’s ghosts on the narrator’s back, the family’s story and its connection with food comes to an end. IV. Final remarks The narrative of Como agua para chocolate takes the spectators to a unique set of metaphors for libido, food, national identity and feminine emotions, constituting one of the rare examples of food film in the Latin American region. As mentioned, the careful way in which the camera always focuses on food makes it clear that the film was intended to have food as its central character. The food conveys to the spectator three important aspects of the narrative: the essence of Mexican cuisine, the creation of a Mexican identity through history and food, and the evolution of women in Mexican society. Above all, Esquivel and Arau try to show Mexican food ultimately as a mixture of native Mexican, Creole and Spanish ingredients thus reflecting the essence of Mexican identity and society. Despite the coexistence of these ingredients during occasional moments of major conflict, the final result—Mexican food—represents a combination of the best of each genre, resulting in a new and superior taste to that which existed before. Como agua para chocolate has attracted considerable critical attention both positive and negative since its release, and it was hugely successful abroad, especially in North America. That it surpassed its “Mexicanness” to become a broad gastronomical statement of how cooking of all origins can be universally related to creativity, sensuality, emotions, and gender makes the film all the more amazing. In short, food as a central device propelled its success at home and internationally. What makes the food film genre unique and important is exactly this aspect. Ethnically structured devices, such as food, stimulate our other human senses— not just sight and sound. Moreover, the food film genre is able to produce for the spectator a much broader sense of identification than other film genres. 198 Como agua para chocolate as a Food Film: Food, Family Ties and Emotion Because other film genres usually carry character-focused narratives, the viewer is restricted to seeing himself/herself in the character. This can put the viewer in a vulnerable situation, causing him to boo or cheer instead of identifying or becoming intimate with the characters. But on the other hand—and surprisingly so—many of us can easily identify with a narrative mediated through food, even if the topic line focuses on a completely different ethnic background. Even if we don’t identify with the ethnic or regional roots presented in such films as Fried Green Tomatoes (Jon Avnet, 1991), Como agua para chocolate, Tortilla Soup (María Ripoll, 2001), Chocolat (Lasse Hallström, 2000) or Yin shi nan nu (Eat Drink Man Woman, Ang Lee, 1994), viewers can still identify with the kind of family, group, or couple solidarity that comes through the sharing of food. As in any other film genre, there is a pattern intended to attract viewers. In the case of the food film these patterns are, as mentioned, food playing the star role, the importance of the kitchen as the venue, and the resolving of conflicts through the intervention of food. But as with any other film, food films can be mixed with other genres, resulting in variations that would lead to different expectations from different viewers. It is also importantly true that, as with other film genres, the food film is in a constant state of evolution, but being quite new as a genre, its topic matter is far from being exhausted in contrast to such genres, as the western film. Thus, depending upon approach, a film can fall into the food film category or simply be a film that makes effective use of food as a form of symbolism, that is, the semiotic use of food as a very powerful and multivalent element. For example, there would be no doubt among scholars or viewers that in viewing a film like Como agua para chocolate, or Yin shi nan nu (a film where food preparation dominates the narrative in such a way as to interpret Chinese traditional culture) as food films. A revealing (and controversial) contrast would be such films as Pulp Fiction (Epstein, 2004, 195-208), Dracula (Davis 2004, 281-96) or Alfred Hicthcock’s Notorious (Greven 2004, 297-310) as food films. Topics concerning ethnicity and sexuality are particularly adaptable to the food film genre (as with Como agua para chocolate), since food is directly related, and indeed, it is a very important symbol in terms of semiotics to introduce a reinterpretation of sexuality. As mentioned earlier, one of the most recent, and best, examples of a film allocated to the food film genre that treats both issues—ethnic identity and continuity, and sexual identity and discovery—is Nina’s Heavenly Delights. 199 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Food is, without any doubt, the most effective and powerful semiotic means by which to communicate ideas concerning cultural formation and identity. In this way, viewers can bypass nationality and its particulars to create a complex system of symbolism, which they can identify with without having to take a personal position (as is the case in other film genres). Though based on a novel (Esquivel 1989), by taking a different approach, Como agua para chocolate not only introduced the food film genre to the Latin American film industry, but also propelled a boom of other newly successful Mexican films and the return of foreign attention to Mexican cinema. This success opened the North American market to other notable Mexican films such as Amores perros (Love’s a Bitch, Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2000), Y tu mamá también (And Your Mother Too, Alfonso Cuarón, 2001) and El crimen del Padre Amaro (The Crime of Father Amaro, Carlos Carrera, 2002). The uniqueness of Como agua para chocolate centers on the way the film wonderfully mixes sensuality, food, nationality and fantasy. It is difficult to imagine another film that could reveal in the same way the importance of food in the rise of Mexican identity as personified in a cookbook. 200 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region References Abrams, Nathan. 2004. “I’ll have whatever she’s having”: Jews, food, and film. In: Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 87-100. New York: Routledge. Barnard, Timothy P. 2004. Chickens, cakes, and kitchens: Food and modernity in Malay films of the 1950s and 1960s. In Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 75-85. New York: Routledge. Bower, Anne L., ed. 2004. Reel food: Essays on food and film. New York: Routledge. Bower, Anne L. 2004. Watching food: The production of food, film, and values. In: Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 1-13. New York, Routledge. Davis, Blair. 2004. Banquet and the beast: The civilizing role of food in 1930s horror films. In Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 281-96. New York: Routledge. Epstein, Rebecca L. 2004. Appetite for destruction: Gangster food and genre convention in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction. In Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 195-208. New York: Routledge. Esquivel, Laura. 1989. Como agua para chocolate. México City: Planeta Mexicana. Greven, David. 2004. Engorged with desire: The films of Alfred Hitchcock and the gendered politics of eating. In Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 297-310. New York: Routledge. Keller, James R. 2006. Food, film and culture: A genre study. Jefferson: McFarland & Co. López-Rodrigues, Miriam. 2004. Cooking Mexicanness: Shaping national identity in Alfonso Arau’s Como agua para chocolate. In Reel food: Essays on food and film, ed. Anne L. Bower, 61-73. New York: Routledge. Long-Solís, Janet, and Luis Alberto Vargas. 2005. Food culture in Mexico. Westport: Greenwood Press. Mora, Sergio de la. 2006. Cinemachismo: Masculinities and sexuality in Mexican film. Austin: University of Texas Press. Noble, Andrea. 2005. Mexican national cinema. London: Routledge. Pilcher, Jeffrey M. 1996. Tamales or timbales: Cuisine and the formation of Mexican national identity, 1821-1911. The Americas 53: 193-216. Shaw, Deborah. 2003. Seducing the public: Images of Mexico in Like Water for Chocolate and Amores Perros. In Contemporary cinema of Latin America: 10 key films, ed. Deborah Shaw, 36-70. New York: Continuum. Spina, Vincent. 1998. Useless spaces of the feminine in popular culture: Like Water for Chocolate and The Silent War. In Imagination beyond nation: Latin American popular culture, eds. Eva P. Bueno and Terry Caesar, 210-26. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Tuñón, Julia. 1995. La revolución mexicana en celuloide: La trilogía de Fernando de Fuentes como otra construcción de la historia. Anuario Colombiano de Historia Social y de la Cultura 22: 133-144. Zimmerman, Steve, and Ken Weiss. 2005. Food in the Movies. Jefferson: McFarland & Co. 201 Part 2: Mobile Cuisines Chapter 12 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine Michiko Kubo Copyright © 2010 by Michiko Kubo All rights reserved 202 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region 1. Purpose and background of the research Every country has its own national cuisine: Japan with its Japanese cuisine, Thailand with its Thai cuisine, and France with its French cuisine. If you ask people to name a few Japanese cuisines, Japanese and non-Japanese alike will come up instantly with such representative foods as sashimi, tempura, sushi, shabu shabu, and sukiyaki. However, with the “Indonesian Indonesia). case is different cuisine” (masakan If you ask any Indonesian to name an “Indonesian cuisine,” they will be somewhat embarrassed and hard pressed to name a single dish. If you ask whether karedok (boiled string beans, cabbage leaves, eggplants and bean sprouts with dressing made of kencur, terasi, palm sugar and tamarind) is an Indonesian, the likely answer would be, “You could call it a cuisine, but actually it Karedok: Sunda (west Java) dish is Sundanese dish.” Or if you ask, if ikan rica-rica (grilled fish with rica-rica sauce, a typical North Sulawesi dish, which is made of chilli, garlic, ginger, tomato and lemongrass) is an Indonesian cuisine, the answer might be, “Well maybe, but actually it is Manado dish.” In short, the replies you hear will almost always refer to the ethnic group or the region from which the food originated. Consisting of about 17,000 islands, Indonesia has about 490 ethnic groups. Hence the image of “Indonesian cuisine” Ikan rica-rica: Manado (northern Sulawesi) dish All photographs by Michiko Kubo is amazingly diverse, depending on what kind of foods became the subject of discussion. In short, the term “Indonesian cuisine” is not familiar to the Indonesian people and is rarely used among them. But what non-Indonesians call “Indonesian cuisine” does in fact exist. 203 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine My master’s degree thesis focused on the foods of Indonesia, a multi-ethnic country that gained its independence some 60 years ago and is still considered to be a nation undergoing a formation process. The thesis attempted to clarify what is actually meant by Indonesian cuisine, in what situations it is discussed both in and outside Indonesia, and where and how people actually ate Indonesian cuisine. I analyzed this theme from several perspectives: books on Indonesian cooking written in Indonesian, English and Japanese, as well as fieldwork conducted in Jakarta (in the form of questionnaires targeting the general Indonesian public), and through interviews with writers and chefs specializing in Indonesian cookery. My research also included Indonesian embassy chef in Japan, people working in Indonesian restaurants in Japan, and surveys on the menus. In the following are the findings of my analyses. The Indonesian cuisine that foreign tourists and businessmen encounter in Jakarta and Bali is actually prepared in a manner to suit these kinds of customers, and it is no coincidence that the food coordinators of most hotels in Bali are usually foreigners, and that the restaurant menu in Jakarta, for instance, “Traditional Indonesian Cuisine” for tourists in Jakarta and Bali happens to be conceived by a writer in Indonesian cookery with a cosmopolitan outlook. Thus the Indonesian cuisine that foreign visitors consume is almost always served by persons with an awareness of the world outside. 204 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region The menus at Indonesian embassies in any given country are intended to represent the national cuisine, but may sometimes be prepared using whatever ingredients are available in that country, or may even be changed to adjust to local culinary tastes of the country from which the guests come. Indonesian restaurants in Japan also have a variety of menus that may be attuned to the culinary preferences of both cooks and the customers. Such variations are common, but this does not mean the cuisine has lost its identity. Observations show that there are fundamental styles that are not at all affected by the changes, which would generally be a combination of rice as the staple food and other dishes consisting of meat, fish, and vegetable proteins. Sambal is the basic seasoning, and the millstone, the tool needed to prepare it, remains unchanged. In addition to the above, Indonesia’s economic growth and urbanization have affected women’s awareness and values, bringing significant changes in their life styles. Accordingly, women are starting to look for ways to save household labor, and the demand for easy-to-prepare instant foods is on the increase. In urban areas, new trends are emerging with café-style restaurants that are now replacing “food stands,” which used to serve local dishes solely for migrant workers. In this paper, I will focus on two trends in Indonesian cuisine development: (1) the emergence and diffusion of Indonesian cuisine as an instant food, and (2) new trends in the development of Indonesian cuisine at the local level. 2. The emergence of “Indonesian cuisine” as instant food From the end of the 1990’s to the 2000’s, Asian countries were recovering from an economic crisis. This recovery, which included the Indonesian economy, led to greater employment opportunities that affected the social status of women. Formerly in the outer regions, young women seeking employment had no choice but to move to cities and be employed as domestic servants. But now they have numerous opportunities to work at local factories or business enterprises at higher levels of pay and it has recently become difficult in the urban areas to find servants for household cooking and cleaning. At the same time, the demand for servants is gradually decreasing within the middle and Servants for household cooking and cleaning: She makes the paste everyday higher classes because they prefer to live in condominiums rather than conventional detached houses for safety precautions. This means that more housewives have to cook on their own. The trend, along with the increasing number of women working in society who consequently have 205 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine less time for conventional housework, is leading to a growing demand for instant foods. Instant foods can be defined as instant seasoning mix (bumbu instan). According to Fujiki (Fujiki 1997, 99), instant seasoning mix is defined as “seasonings for specific menus,” which is similar in concept to “Cook Do” seasonings released in Japan in 1981 by Ajinomoto Co. Ltd. The instant seasonings are pre-blended and can be heated with other ingredients to make a full dish. Ajinomoto Co. Ltd. of Japan established PT Ajinomoto Indonesia in 1969 and started production in the following year (Ajinomoto Indonesia). Prior to this, Union Chemicals, Inc. (currently Ajinomoto Philippines Corporation) was established in 1958, followed in 1960 by Ajinomoto Co. Thailand and in 1961 Ajinomoto Malaysia. Ajinomoto products have become well established in Southeast Asia and throughout Indonesia. Instant seasoning mix “pre-blended seasonings for specific menu” One of the most basic instant products is Masako. This powdered relish seasoning is the leading product of PT Ajinomoto Indonesia, and is also marketed under different product names in other Southeast Asian countries. However, it comes in various flavors, and the amount of spice is adjusted to suit the taste of a particular country. The sales share of instant seasoning in Indonesia occupies over 90% of the conventional food market. The hot-selling products are sold at 1,000 rupiah (approximately 9 yen as of November 2008) for one pack, which consists of three small packages (NNA Asia). Especially in regional areas, Masako is popular among the common people, and most customers buy only a small amount in one round of shopping. The company also releases other branded products such as Sajiku or Saori. Sajiku is an instant seasoning that comes in sachets. Other products include nasi goreng seasoning mix (chicken, prawn, sea food, spicy flavors), ayam goreng, soto ayam, opor, rendang, gulai, and fried chicken seasoning mix. Saori is a brand for 206 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region teri-yaki and oyster sauces that used in Chinese, Japanese and other Asian foods and is sold in packages with recipes on them. Kokita, a company established by Mr. and Mrs. Winata in 1987 in the city of Bandung, is a producer of instant seasonings and foods. The company also produces its own seasonings and basic sauces with proportionately mixed ingredients Sajiku and other Instant seasoning mix in supermarket that follow traditional recipes. According to Kokita’s website: In today’s fast moving world, few cooks are able to devote the time and effort required to select and prepare traditional Indonesian recipes. This is why Kokita was established. By using our cook in their kitchens, modern day cooks can enjoy conveniently packaged sauces and essential ingredients offering the same rich and varied flavors of traditionally made sauces. Products of Kokita The products of this company are distributed not only in Indonesia but also in the USA, Europe, Middle East, Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore, Brunei, Australia, and New Zealand. As the company’s website commented, “Kokita provides career women and busy housewives with a practical and simple way to capture the unique flavor of traditional recipes.” The company distributes a wide variety of instant seasonings: • “Essential seasoning for chili dishes” consists of red chilies, tomatoes: best for Balinese spicy egg, ayam panggang, fried potatoes, fried noodles, etc. • “Essential seasoning for turmeric dishes” consists of turmeric, candlenut: best for spicy shrimp and bamboo shoot with coconut, sambal goreng telur, fish curry. 207 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine • “Essential seasoning for candlenut dishes” consists of candlenut, shallots: best for young jackfruit casserole, opor ayam. • “Essential seasoning with garlic and white pepper”: best for stir-fried dishes, soups. The company also distributes other seasoning mixes in jars and sachets for soto ayam, nasi kuning, dry curry, sambal balado, ayam goreng, mie goreng, sambal badjak, and sambal terasi. Indofood is another leading food company with an extensive distribution network in Indonesia; its business includes the manufacture and distribution of noodles, food seasonings, snack foods, nutrition and special foods, and packaging. In 1994 the Indofood company groups were integrated and listed on the Indonesian Stock Exchange, and today it is a major brand company claiming strong value as well as a large market share. Its flagship products include instant noodles, wheat flour, cooking oil, margarine, and shortening. The company has 15 thousand retailers throughout Indonesia, which is an amazing power base considering the country’s geographical segmentation into many islands. The sales and stock data of each region are managed by IT technologies so as to maximize effective sales, a constant supply of products, and rapid delivery to supermarkets and food shops. The system operates through the company’s 60 supply points, 49 stock points, and 22 branches. Indofood’s corporate policy is stated in its website as follows: Indonesia, an island of spices, has a variety of herbs and spices growing near the Equator. The country’s multi-ethnic culture offers several thousand different dishes using spices to add exotic flavor and aroma. Indonesian herbs and spices are already well known among the world’s culinary and cuisine. We are committed to continue and expand our investigations and research on Indonesian spices and herbs and to introduce them to the global food service industry. Through our long experiences we have acquired the skills to preserve the aroma and flavor of freshly ground spices and succeeded to produce freeze-dried and air-dried products from the ground spices. While Indofood continues to develop new products, technologies and network systems to meet consumer needs, it has in addition recently introduced a variety of products for the health conscious consumers at all age levels, from infants to adults. With the objectives of “from spices to high quality foods, from Indonesia to the world,” the company is expanding its distribution channels through five overseas bases to Asia, Europe, Middle East, United States, Australia, and Africa. 208 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Indofood’s 2007 annual report (Indofood) shows an increase in the shipment of instant noodles (mie instan) amounting to 12 billion packages compared to 11 billion the preceding year, thus accounting for 85% of total shipment of instant noodles in Indonesia. The company has three major brands of instant noodles, namely, Indomie, Sarimie and Supermie. Instant noodles, air-dried noodles, mini-cup noodles are increasing in sales and the company’s instant noodles are exported to about 30 countries (including Saudi Arabia, Brunei, Australia, Hong Kong, United States and Europe). The company sells sauces (soya, chili, tomato), instant seasonings, powdered spices, supplementary foods, and syrups to hotels and food service companies throughout Indonesia. There are three types of food seasonings: sauces, instant seasoning mixes, and recipe mixes. The 2007 total sale of instant seasoning mixes was 46.3 billion rupiah, showing a year-by-year increase of 28%. This increase is also reflected in the amount of exports to Asia and the Middle East, including Japan and African countries. I also analyzed a number of books on Indonesian cooking published both in and outside Indonesia and prepared a survey targeting the general Indonesian public in terms of their instant food preferences. The study also included interviews of people in Japan working in Indonesian restaurants. The Emergence of “Indonesian Cusine” as Instant Food *They are the answers to the question, “What kind of menu do you recommend to foreigners as typical Indonesian cuisine?” 209 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine Comparison of the data in all four categories reveals certain menus in common namely, gado-gado, soto, rendang, and gulai. The menus of instant seasonings commercially available (such as gado-gado, soto, rendang, and gulai) are derived from the local dishes that had spread across the country via the movement of migrant workers, especially during the Suharto period and the introduction of transmigration policy. As the popularity of these dishes grew throughout the country, people became less aware of the local features, and the public questionnaire shows that these dishes are generally regarded by many as “Indonesian cuisine,” not necessarily reflecting any particular ethnic groups (suku). This emerging concept of Indonesian cuisine, which goes beyond the framework of ethnic groups or local dishes, applies to masakan daerah (regional cuisine) as well. These dishes are served in the restaurants throughout especially in the cities. Indonesia, Nasi goreng and sate are also widely served dishes, yet few people can remember what the Sate Nasi goreng original local names were. These dishes, moreover, correspond to the “Indonesian dishes” served in Indonesian restaurants in Japan, appearing as well in Indonesian cuisine cookbooks published inside and outside Indonesia. On the other hand, the market is not yet so large for frozen foods and foods sold in retort pouches, as the variations are still limited. My investigations in several supermarkets in downtown Jakarta show that frozen foods only have a few variations of chicken cuts and fried potatoes. The reasons vary from the low popularity of freezers and microwave ovens to electrical shortages and power failures due to floods. In Europe and the United States in the 1970’s, companies tried to commercialize foods in retort pouches for household use but failed because large-size refrigeratorfreezers were already widely used, making storage at room temperatures unnecessary and also because cooking basically involved roasting and heating in ovens. Even now foods in retort pouches are not so popular, while the demand for frozen, canned, bottled, and dried foods is overwhelming. In Japan, however, foods in retort pouches are more popular, because the use of hot water for cooking (such as boiling, steaming) is common in Japan. These observations suggest an extremely high potential for wider use of foods in retort pouches, given as well, the sufficiently low price of such foods in Indonesia. Also, it is probable that many Indonesian people working abroad would use them. 210 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Measuring spoons and cups, more than intuition and experience, underscore the role that cookbooks play in providing standardized cooking information across the nation. Similarly, instant seasonings allow people to reproduce the same flavor of dishes every time by simply opening the package and mixing in the ingredients. This could mean a homogenized cuisine that may eventually dominate Indonesia’s food taste. Homogenization is not a natural but a human-induced phenomenon brought about by the food and food-service industries. These instant foods allow people to cook simply and enjoy the same flavor of dishes whenever and wherever they want. As instant foods become ever more popular and the flavor of foods becomes homogenized, the dishes selected for instant foods may give the Indonesian people the common concept of a national, rather than local, dish. 3. New trends in the local cuisine Local cuisines are not disappearing. Rather, they are adjusting to taste changes in urban areas. Hence a variety of dishes will remain to be enjoyed as authentic local cuisines, while others will take the form of instant seasoning mixes, which in turn will define (conceptually speaking) the nation-wide taste. The new local cuisine is a completely different movement in which even differing local dishes will be featured to become a totally new brand of service to its customers. This is a unique and very encouraging phenomenon. Local cuisines have become ever more popular with the implementation of transmigration policy and the human movements of migrant workers to large cities. Prior to this migration policy, local dishes were widely served at food stalls and food courts. But in Jakarta and other urban areas local cuisine is, as mentioned, being served in new cafe-style restaurants with strong local features. For example, local dishes normally served by restaurants in Manado and Sunda are now finding their way into shopping malls, and these branch restaurants are crowded with office workers, both men and women, during lunch breaks. What used to be eating-places for migrant The new trend in local cusine, food court in shopping mall workers have been converted into the most fashionable cafes. 211 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine Let’s have a look at some examples. The menu at Celebes: Rasa Manado (taste of Manado) offers such typical local dishes as bubur Manado, ikan asin, ikan rica-rica, cumi wok, ayam bakar, ayam rica-rica, ayam wok, sayur wok, and sop ikan kuah asam. Yet the menu image is no longer one of local dishes “served for migrant workers” but of brand products Celebes: Rasa Manado (taste of Manado) served in stylish cafes. For instance, one cafe called Warung Daun (Restaurant of Leaves) has two shops in downtown Jakarta and serves Sundanese dishes, which are known for their variety of raw vegetables. Dishes with raw vegetables comprise the Indonesian cuisine, which consists mostly of stewed or fried foods. Additionally, Warung Daun serves organic vegetables and organic rice grown in Middle Java, thus accentuating its image of healthy Sundanese cooking, and the restaurant emphasizes “food safety and security,” a recent topic of intense public interest. The restaurant even has a corner section where organic rice is sold as well as high-priced organic ingredients imported from overseas countries, such as Japan. At present, the organic food ingredients are purchased only by the urban wealthy, but there is a growing interest not only in the finished food product but even in the food materials, stimulated by the abundance of food related information coming in from overseas. Chicken satay Chili paste with mango Restaurants with local cuisine origins are emerging as avant-garde Indonesian cuisines. The new trend is accompanied by fast food shops that also serve foods based on local dishes and restaurants, suggesting a colonial atmosphere of “tempo dulu” (the good old days). Java cuisine, as well, is becoming part of this traditional mix, and overall there seems to be no limit to the ongoing trend, not to mention great expectations for the future. 212 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Organic vegetable and grain “No artificial flavor” “Warung Daun” organic restaurant Organic rice used to be imported, now it is domestically produced 213 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine “tempo dulu” (the good old days) style restaurant 4. Conclusion After discussing the two paths of development in presentday “Indonesian cuisine,” the emergence and spreading popularity of instant foods, and new trends in the local cuisine, there are three factors that seem to define the concept of an Indonesian national cuisine. First is a homogenized Indonesian cuisine resulting from the recent popularity of instant seasonings, second, the continued existence of local cuisine, and third, the appearance of new brands of local cuisines. The analytical results indicate that a common concept of “Indonesian cuisine” beyond the framework of ethnic groups or local dishes (masakan daerah) has been gradually emerging, and evolving into a Indonesian national cuisine. Javanese fastfood restaurant By simply opening the package and mixing the ingredients, instant seasonings allow people to reproduce the same flavor of dishes whenever and wherever they want, suggesting that a homogenized cuisine is spreading throughout Indonesia. As instant foods become ever more popular, the homogenized selections are giving the Indonesian people a common concept that extends beyond the idea of a local dish. Local cuisine has not disappeared. Instead it is changing and showing new elements of taste based on urban taste expectations. Some of the local dishes 214 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region will remain to be enjoyed as “Indonesian cuisine,” and others will take the form of instant seasoning mix becoming widely known, conceptually speaking, as a common fare (masakan daerah). There is yet another completely different movement in which the local cuisine features even stronger local dishes. Further studies will be required to observe what these new phenomena will lead to, and whether or not the homogenized flavor of “Indonesian cuisine” (masakan Indonesia) may be a factor to bring about “national standardization.” Glossary: ayam bakar: grilled chicken ayam goreng: fried chicken ayam panggang: charcoal-grilled chicken bubur Manado: porridge Manado-style gado-gado: boiled vegetable salad with peanut sauce gulai: stew with turmeric and coconut milk ikan asin: salted fish ikan rica-rica: fried fish with chili-pepper sauce kuah asam: sour soup with fish mie goreng: fried noodle nasi goreng: fried rice nasi kuning: yellow rice with turmeric opor: chicken simmered in mild coconut curry Jawa style rending: beef stew Padan style sambal bajak: fried chili-pepper sambal relish sambal balado: red pepper sauce Sumatra style sambal goreng telur: boiled egg with spicy sauce sambal terasi: chili-pepper sauce with garlic, shrimp paste and palm sugar sop ikan: soup with fish soto ayam: turmeric flavored chicken soup with vermicelli 215 The Development of an Indonesian National Cuisine: A Study of New Movement of Instant Foods and Local Cuisine References Fujiki, Shouichi. 2007. Kakoushokuhinsangyo no hattatsu to chouri eno eikyou (The developing of food industry and its influence on cooking). In Nihon no shoku/100 nen “Tsukuru”(Japanese food/100 years “Making”), eds. Koichi Sugita and Naomichi Ishige, 94-106. Tokyo: Domesu Shuppan. Honda (Kubo), Michiko. 2008. “Masakan Indonesia” as a National Cuisine. Master’s thesis. Sophia University. Website References: Ajinomoto Indonesia. http://www.ajinomoto.co.id/produk_masakanasp (accessed November 20, 2008) Indofood. http://www.indofood.co.id (accessed November 20, 2008) Kokita. http://www.ikafood.com (accessed November 22, 2008) NNA ASIA. “Interview article of the President of Ajinomoto Indonesia, Mr. Shunichi Komatsu, May 1, 2008.” http://news.nna.jp/free/interview/kono/kono256.html (accessed November 22, 2008) 216 Part 3: Mobile Producers 217 Part 3: Mobile Producers Chapter 13 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field Vanina Leschziner Copyright © 2010 by Vanina Leschziner All rights reserved 218 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region A few years ago, a certain chef at a renowned Italian restaurant in New York City, whose culinary style was perceived as Italian food with a New York sensibility, included a panna cotta (an Italian pudding) topped with whole pink peppercorns on his dessert menu. Unless one knew better, one might have expected the creator of such an original dessert to highlight his creativity when asked about it. During an interview, however, far from this attitude, this top chef instead drew attention to the traditional ingredients he used in the dessert and when asked further about the pink peppercorns (not a traditional ingredient in Italian cuisine, and much source:i-Stockphoto less so in any type of dessert), suggested that using them was rather accidental. If he served dishes that departed from the Italian canon, he explained, it was because he had to adapt to the ingredients available in New York, and that adapting to one’s surrounding is in itself very Italian.1 This story is representative of several central themes that emerge from an examination of the culinary styles and discourses of elite chefs in New York City and San Francisco, the two most prestigious restaurant cities in the United States.2 The above chef’s dishes are, as in most high-end restaurants, a negotiation between culinary tradition on one hand, and a combination of innovation, economic and geographic constraints on the other. His discourse, as is the case with most elite chefs, shows substantially his ability to navigate between these pressures and constraints in representing his food. Whether in New York, San Francisco or other cities, chefs create dishes within limitations introduced by geographic, economic and socio-cultural conditions. A restaurant’s location influences the nature of the food a chef prepares through access to ingredients, local cuisines, and customers’ inclinations and expectations. 1. These data are from an interview I conducted with the chef. 2. For analytical purposes, I consider culinary styles to be constituted by two central aspects: regional denominations (i.e., French, Italian, New American) and degree of innovativeness (which I categorize as traditional and innovative). To be sure, these are not neatly defined categories in actual practice. The boundaries between categories are fuzzy, and indeed chefs, as well as critics (who have a role in defining categories [see Hsu 2006; Rao, Monin and Durand 2005]), disagree over such boundaries. Some of this disagreement, specifically that among chefs, is analyzed in this paper. 219 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field Chefs must also create food within the constraints of the particular conditions of the restaurants where they work, namely the restaurants’ culinary styles, budgets and market niches, kitchen staff and equipment. They also design dishes from a particular social position in the culinary field, a position they attain through their culinary styles, skills, status, and social networks.3 But constraints are not the whole story. Chefs make choices within constraints, and they make use of different resources to arrive at such choices. It is reasonable to assume that they draw on information that is available to them (see Daft and Weick 1984; Owen-Smith 2001; Rao 1994; Simon 1959; Weick 1995), monitor what their colleagues do, and rely on their experiences to make choices.4 But culinary fields are complex environments, where too much information is available and too many factors put constraints upon chefs’ work, some of which are also contradictory. Hence chefs need to prioritize some of these factors when they conceive dishes for their menus. How they perceive the objects with which they work and reflexively understand their work is likely to determine the kinds of factors they attend and respond to.5 Generally, chefs approach the ingredients and the creation of dishes through particular cognitive schema, partly constituted by the principles of culinary creation they have learned during their training and careers. Chefs need some kind of compass to navigate through the complexity of their environment and make choices about their food and careers. Their self-concepts, meaningful, strongly held narratives about the self, provide guidance. Self-concepts, thus conceived, are not erratic psychological states but relatively stable conceptions of the self which are the product of the reflexive processes whereby individuals consider themselves consciously, and do so in relation to their social environment. Thus, self-concepts are profoundly shaped by the multiple associations with actors and organizations that 3. The field is here conceptualized as an area of activity in which individuals orient their actions to those of others. Therefore, I take the field of cuisine to be comprised of non-ethnic elite restaurants, and New York City and San Francisco to be two different culinary fields (for extant conceptualizations of a “gastronomic field,” see Ferguson (1998) and also Rao, Monin and Durand (2003, 2005). The category “ethnic” is understood from the perspective of chefs in elite restaurants in these two cities, and thus refers to foods from countries outside of Central Europe, the United States, and Canada. Insofar as chefs orient their actions to one-another, chefs of “ethnic” food (i.e., chefs who work in “ethnic” restaurants and not those who may draw on elements or ideas from foreign cuisines) are not members of the fields examined here. Elite chefs do not need to have information about the “ethnic” restaurants that open or close in their cities, nor do they need to know about the food that these restaurants serve; moreover they do not seek jobs in these places. But they do need to know what chefs at non-ethnic restaurants do, given that they orient their actions to these. For these same reasons, I only include chefs at top restaurants. 4. For an analysis of the practices and management of knowledge-exchange among chefs, see Leschziner (2007a, 2007b). 5. This framework is along the lines of Archer’s theorization of reflexivity and social action (2003, 2007). It is also consistent with the perspectives in organizational analysis that have been calling for attention to individual action and cognition, especially the sense-making approach (see Daft and Weick 1984; Weick 1995) and the inhabited institutions approach (Hallett and Ventresca 2006). 220 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region an individual has had throughout her career, as well as by the individual’s current position in the culinary field.6 This paper analyzes how chefs at high-end restaurants in New York and San Francisco navigate the pressures and constraints they face in making decisions about their work with a particular focus on how chefs cognize their work and conceive their selves in order to explain how they arrive at the choices they make. This paper describes only general patterns observed among chefs to explain some of the forces that constitute the social logic of culinary creation in these cities. There are, to be sure, variations in the way chefs cognize their work and conceive themselves (associated, as well, with a chef’s position in the culinary field), but such variations are beyond the purview of this paper (Leschziner 2007b). This paper draws on ethnographic research I conducted with elite chefs in New York City and San Francisco, consisting of 45 interviews with chefs and observation in their restaurant kitchens, as well as several other formal and informal interviews with restaurant cooks and staff. Included also are interviews with individuals in other occupations associated with restaurants (architects, lawyers, food writers).7 Ethnographic data were complemented with analyses of menus and reviews from newspapers and magazines of all the restaurants concerned, as well as articles on food and chefs in New York and San Francisco published during the period the fieldwork was conducted. Some of the cognitive schema and self-understandings of chefs in New York and San Francisco examined in this paper are likely to have a higher degree of regional specificity than others. Undoubtedly, a number of principles of culinary creation are specific to cuisines. Insofar as “Western”8 cuisines are built upon the foundations of French cuisine,9 some of the socio-cognitive schema described in this paper will apply to “Western” cuisines in general. These cuisines share cooking techniques as well as a conceptual understanding of food.10 We might question whether some of the cognitive and affective aspects of individuals’ understandings as well as the organizational dynamics of a culinary field have less cultural specificity. This is an 6. For a related understanding of self-concepts and their role in making choices in cultural creation, see Gross (2002, 2008). 7. The chefs in the sample work at restaurants which have all been awarded stars from the most highly respected publications in each city, New York Times and San Francisco Chronicle and San Francisco magazine. I used ratings from these publications (stars and pricing scales) to classify elite restaurants in three categories: middle status, upper-middle status, and high status. 8. The notion of “Western” cuisines refers (largely) to those that are not “ethnic” (Central Europe, the United States, and Canada), as understood in the population under study. 9. France is generally considered to be the birthplace of modern cuisine in the western world (Ferguson 1998, 2004; Ferguson and Zukin 1998; Trubek 2000). 10. For a historical analysis of the socio-cognitive foundations of French cuisine, see Leschziner (2006). 221 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field interesting question that requires empirical research to be answered. In analyzing the cognitive schema and reflexive self-understandings that help explain the social logic of creation in the culinary field, this paper has two (related) goals. First, it shows that cognitive schema and the individual’s reflexive processes are inherent elements in the social logic of creation in a field of cultural production, and as such shed light on the dynamics of production in the field in question. In doing so, I expand upon the agenda of those perspectives (e.g., Daft and Weick 1984; Hallett and Ventresca 2006; Weick 1995) that seek to complement the insights of the new institutionalism (see DiMaggio and Powell 1983, 1991; Meyer and Rowan 1977) with attention to individual action, cognition and emotion. Second, by examining a case in which artistic pursuits and market forces meet, this paper contributes to our current knowledge about patterns of cultural production in organizational fields. Such a case introduces more complex dynamics than those we find in fields that are more typically studied (e.g., Bourdieu [1992] 1996; Burt 1992, 2004; Owen-Smith and Powell 2004; Phillips and Zuckerman 2001; Zuckerman 1999), where cultural production either follows artistic pursuits which are not necessarily for profit (such as poetry, or the fine arts) or profit-oriented ends which are not necessarily artistic (such as the biotechnical industry or corporate world). Principles of Culinary Creation Every area of cultural production, as Bourdieu (1976, 1977, 1993, [1984] 1993, [1992] 1996) has paradigmatically theorized, has its own principles of perception and appreciation, upon which individuals draw in order to both understand their own actions and legitimate themselves. In the culinary fields of New York and San Francisco, elite chefs are likely to draw upon the principles of French cuisine they have source:i-Stockphoto learned (regardless of where they have worked), namely techniques, ingredient combinations, composition of dishes, and presentation. These are key principles for assessing the quality of food, judged chiefly by the food’s flavor. Insofar as every field has its own principles of perception and appreciation, it also has its own principle of excellence. In culinary fields, this principle is constituted by flavor. 222 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Chefs’ claims about what comprises a good dish (an interview question) provide a wealth of evidence that flavor is the principle of excellence. A number of chefs in New York and San Francisco maintain that in conceiving a dish, their main, and in some cases only, concern, is flavor.11 Without a doubt, just as we would find that the notions concerning the composition or technical mastery of a painting will differ from one pictorial style to another, so will the particulars about what constitutes good flavor differ from one cuisine to another. Yet flavor, as an abstract and elusive quality by which dishes are judged, would arguably constitute the principle of excellence in any culinary field. Elite chefs must surely concern themselves with flavor and create dishes of exceptional quality, not simply nourishing food. However, because cuisine is an area of activity that stands at the nexus of art and commerce, chefs must also ensure that their restaurants are profitable. This means that even if the dishes they create have symbolic value, chefs are not quite like painters. Painters may be devoted to art for art’s sake but chefs cannot dedicate themselves to culinary artistry without concern with such issues as customer preferences, cost, and profit.12 Chefs have to design dishes that customers will order. This entails, first, using ingredients that customers like. In New York and San Francisco, steak, salmon, tuna, and chicken breast are especially popular among diners (ingredients which chefs find boring, incidentally), whereas organ meats, for instance, are out of favor. In short, chefs must ensure that the dishes they prepare will sell, which in turn means that the ingredient combinations must be familiar to their customers. This results in relatively traditional dishes and restaurant menus which showcase the same ingredient pairings in soups, salads, pastas, entrées, and desserts. In contrast to pressures to make traditional foods, chefs must differentiate themselves from peers, to stand out in this very competitive high cuisine market in cities such as New York and San Francisco. Inevitably, market competition leads to the need to create original dishes, to which chefs respond by introducing new ingredients, ingredient combinations, culinary techniques or presentation of dishes to their menus. 11. There is variation to the extent that chefs claim to be mostly, or only, concerned with flavor. As I have suggested, such variation is associated with chefs’ status. This being said, there is evidence from interviews, in the form of behavioral and bodily expressions, that all chefs (regardless of their claims) are aware that flavor is the principle of excellence in their occupation. 12. That painters may be devoted to art for art’s sake is not to be taken to mean that painters are, by definition, uninterested in market success, but that they have the option to be single-mindedly devoted to art, whereas chefs do not. 223 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field The contrasting pressures towards tradition and innovation introduce constraints into the dishes chefs create. Chefs are keenly aware of these as well as all other factors that limit their creational potential. This is not only due to the knowledge that they work in a profit-motivated area of cultural production. Chefs are responsible for restaurant management as well as the food they serve. As a consequence, their tendency to claim devotion to flavor raises questions about why they ignore, and in some cases deny, other factors when representing their respective approaches to culinary creation. source:i-Stockphoto The significance of chefs’ tendencies to focus on flavor at the expense of other factors that limit them in their work becomes clear if we examine how chefs talk about what they seek to achieve when they create dishes. This excerpt from a high-status chef in New York, who discusses the elements required for a good dish, illustrates the single-minded dedication to flavor many chefs claim.13 [For a dish to be good] It’s got to have a good sauce. It’s gotta be very well cooked; that’s technique. It’s gotta be appealing. It’s gotta be very fresh. The ingredient has to speak by themselves. That’s it. [Q: What do you mean by appealing?] The taste. The taste, the taste of everything. It’s essential. It’s gotta be cooked well, not overcooked, not undercooked. It’s gotta go all together. It’s…and...the taste is, it’s gotta be honest, it’s gotta be clean. (High-status Chef in New York City, fieldnotes) 13. All the names of chefs and restaurants have been kept anonymous and confidential. 224 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region We note here the extent to which the chef emphasizes the primacy of taste, a taste that is pure, honest, and clean.14 By maintaining the position that ingredients have to speak for themselves, he alludes to the understanding, widespread among chefs, that a dish should have as few ingredients as possible, and that these ought not to be tampered with.15 This results in dishes that are simple. We should note that this chef has worked at some of the most refined and exclusive restaurants in New York, those that command the highest prices in the country. In such restaurants, he not only used the most exquisite and costliest ingredients, but also served them in what critics and customers identify to be elaborate compositions. That even chefs cooking at the most high-end restaurants highlight the primacy of simplicity—an honest and clean flavor—sheds light on the symbolic meaning of the notions of flavor and simplicity in the culinary field. The elements this chef singles out as being the most important—flavor and its two associated values of simplicity and the quality of ingredients—commonly arise in discourses of chefs in New York and San Francisco. If chefs maintain that flavor is the essential value guiding them in their creational pursuits, and that the conduits for achieving flavor are good ingredients and simple preparations, it is because these claims signify a devotion to the principle of excellence in their occupation. These claims are thus the means by which chefs legitimate themselves. Dedication to flavor, simplicity and nature of ingredients denotes indifference to economic success or prestige; in other words, it signals the chef’s purity (Bourdieu 1993).16 Some chefs do not profess such devotion to flavor, instead acknowledging the importance of the other, much less noble principle of culinary creation: market differentiation. The chefs who sustain that differentiating from others is a goal that guides their culinary creations tend to highlight a number of elements as important for making a good dish, and they may or may not include flavor among these elements. They generally highlight the importance of originality, contrast of textures or colors, and presentation. Instead of conveying a pursuit of culinary excellence, these other qualities are based more on impure motivations, namely a desire to increase market success or prestige. 14. It should be pointed out that the remarks quoted here are representative of the whole interview, i.e., the chef emphasized the primacy of taste in his approach to culinary creation throughout the conversation. 15. He indeed goes on to elaborate upon this understanding. 16. Here, I follow field theory (see Bourdieu 1993) with the premise that every field of cultural production is structured around a pole of purity and another of impurity. Creators in the former are guided by a devotion to art for art’s sake, and so are indifferent to market dynamics or attaining success, while creators in the latter are motivated to increase their reputation or economic capital. 225 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field The contrast between the position of chefs who claim devotion to flavor and those who invoke other qualities as critical in culinary creation becomes apparent in the following excerpt from the chef of an upper-middle status restaurant in New York. Through his comments about the qualities that make a good dish, the chef illustrates the position of those who focus on market differentiation. [For a dish to be good] I mean, the visual appeal has to be perfect because when the dish comes to the table, that’s the first thing. You have to look at it and say, “Wow, this is….” [Q: What would be a perfect visual appeal?] Something, I mean, without affecting the flavors of it, it needs to be colorful.... and I think always the plate, too makes, it can make or break a dish too. So I’m always trying to find unique plates that nobody else has, or different styles. (Upper-middle status chef in New York City, fieldnotes) When asked about what constitutes a good dish, this chef does not make reference to flavor or the associated qualities of ingredients or simplicity. Rather, he points to visual appeal, and what is more, to the appeal of tableware. And he highlights the value of tableware, not food, for differentiating himself from other chefs. This contrasts quite sharply with the way in which the previous chef represented his approach to the creation of dishes. The above discourses are good illustrations of the two typical positions I have found in interviews with chefs in New York and San Francisco, i.e., individuals who claim that the principle that guides them in creating dishes is source:i-Stockphoto flavor or market differentiation. To be sure, there are nuances to these positions. Some chefs maintain they pursue flavor while also being mindful of the imperative to differentiate among one’s peers. Others state that while seeking to distinguish themselves, they also recognize that ingredients are important, or that making flavorful food is essential.17 The contrast between these two characteristic positions is not limited to chefs’ discourses. Insofar as there is some form of relationship, however complex and 17. In the data analysis, I coded chefs’ representations of the principles that guide them in creating dishes on the basis of the number and order of their claims (i.e. whether they only mentioned flavor or they first mentioned flavor and then originality was coded differently). 226 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region multi-faced, between individuals’ discursive representations and their practices (see DiMaggio 2002; Eliasoph and Lichterman 2003), we should find a patterning between discourses and culinary styles. Thus, we may surmise that individuals who claim devotion to flavor might be likely to create food in traditional styles, while those who focus on the pressures of market differentiation, and therefore invoke originality as a guiding principle, are more likely to create original or innovative food. Insofar as there is an assumption that old recipes have stood the test of time because their flavors have reached perfection, chefs who claim to pursue flavor (or simplicity, or the quality of ingredients) as their guiding principle of creation are inclined to rely on traditional dishes. These chefs would see tampering with traditional recipes as an attempt to be original for the sake of originality, or as they call it, for the “wow factor.” Tampering with traditional recipes may take the form of substituting classic ingredients with others that are new or faddish, or using fashionable cooking techniques (especially those associated with “molecular gastronomy”) to change the textures of ingredients. Thus, the chefs who belong to this group generally represent their culinary styles as traditional, whether they make French, Italian, or New American food. Chefs who underscore differentiation as a guiding principle tend to add novel touches to their food, focusing on those elements that are original (in contrast to chefs who follow strict tradition). They are consequently likely to view their styles as innovative. So long as individuals focus on different principles guiding culinary creation, we can see that the same dish may be represented as either traditional or innovative. To illustrate this, let us imagine a recipe that takes the traditional Caprese salad—a classic Italian combination of mozzarella, tomato, and basil—turned into a tomato broth with mozzarella foam and basil gelée.18 Chefs who focus on flavor would frame this dish as traditional because it adheres to the traditional ingredients and balance of flavors of the Caprese salad. These individuals would say that the dish changes only in terms of the textures of the ingredients, and that the purpose of such change is to make the food lighter. Making food lighter allows for flavors to be more focused. Because they transform the classic salad for the sake of flavor, these individuals represent themselves as faithful to tradition. In contrast, chefs who invoke market differentiation as a principle of creation and focus on food originality would point to the transformation of textures, and possibly to the presentation of the dish, noting that these transformations change the experience of partaking in the combination of 18. This is an imaginary dish because the confidentiality and anonymity of interviews prevents me from using real dishes. However, the imaginary innovation on a traditional dish is analogous to the work of some chefs in New York City and San Francisco (or, for that matter, numerous other cities). Thus, the imaginary arguments that chefs would invoke to explain why they represent the dish in one way or another are based on arguments I have heard chefs use. 227 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field flavors. These individuals thus turn the traditional salad into a new dish for the sake of innovation. Acknowledging their mindfulness of market pressures, they represent themselves as innovative. That chefs represent their food variously depending on their cognitive focus suggests that a chef’s self-representation is not necessarily in line with the perceptions that others have of his or her style. As with the high-status chef (mentioned above) who characterizes his food as simple, individuals who maintain that flavor is their guiding principle and therefore represent their culinary styles to be traditional may be cooking food that is perceived by others to be original.19 Such dissociation between a chef’s self-representations and external appraisals, however, arises only among chefs who characterize themselves as traditional.20 That the dissociation is found in the above case, but not among chefs who represent their styles to be innovative, is a significant aspect of the social logic of culinary creation, as I shall explain. If we consider the means through which chefs legitimate themselves, it is reasonable that the lack of association between self-representations and external appraisals does not exist among New York and San Francisco chefs who characterize their styles as innovative. First, individuals attain legitimacy by claiming devotion to the principle of excellence in cuisine. Therefore we are more likely to find chefs who express devotion to flavor and represent their styles as traditional (relatively independently of how others see them) than to find chefs who maintain that they work in the service of the market if their culinary creations also seem (at least to them) to be driven by a pursuit of excellence.21 Individuals might more or less admit, with some embarrassment, to responding to market pressures, but they would be unlikely to maintain they simply pursue originality if there is some evidence to the contrary. The Social Logic of Culinary Creation The relationship between chefs’ discourses and the external assessment of their culinary styles does not simply show processes of legitimation in cuisine. For one thing, chefs legitimate themselves more through the food they create than through 19. Evidence of this perception comes from articles about chefs and restaurants from several media, as well as opinions of other chefs. 20. The dissociation between chefs’ self-representations and external appraisals of their styles is not randomly distributed. There is a mapping of chefs’ discourses and culinary styles (in their associations and dissociations) that is related to status. For data on the status distribution of chefs’ discourses and culinary styles, see (Leschziner 2007b). 21. This ought not be taken to mean that chefs are necessarily calculating and misleading in their representations of their styles. 228 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region personal claims. And if a chef were to make claims that are inconsistent with her culinary style, such claims would not be credible, or worse, would appear insincere. Therefore, we can reasonably expect discourses to be intrinsically associated with culinary styles. Further, it was noted earlier that while chefs face contradictory pressures on their culinary styles, they also face pressures in representing themselves. Just as they must respond to pressures to conform to tradition, yet be innovative in the foods they create, they must also respond to these contradictory pressures in terms of legitimating themselves. We know that chefs must innovate in order to differentiate themselves from others, but they cannot make dishes so original that customers cannot fit them into a familiar repertoire of food (see DiMaggio and Powell 1983; Glynn and Abzug 2002; Lampel, Lant and Shamsie 2000; Phillips and Zuckerman 2001; Zuckerman 1999). At the same time, too much innovation would make chefs appear inauthentic.22 Yet, making traditional food Stock photo: Microsoft without adding a novel element to it would look as though the chef had no idea of his or her own. Thus, in seeking legitimation, just as in creating food, individuals must find some form of balance between the two pressures. Without a doubt, individuals cannot respond in a totally satisfactory way to contradictory pressures, so they have to prioritize one of them in creating food and making legitimacy claims. How they make such choices leads to the central question of the social logic of culinary creation. Because high cuisine is an area of production of goods with symbolic value that is invariably profit-motivated, we should find that individuals must demonstrate creativity as well as succeed in the market to remain in business and legitimate themselves.23 It follows that flavor and market differentiation will be the two most important principles of creation. It seems reasonable to assume that these two principles of culinary creation may be the most important factors in other major cities besides New York and San Francisco, and to posit that the concept of flavor may be associated with the values of simplicity and ingredients, while market differentiation may be associated with originality, regardless of the regional specificities and culinary traditions of the field in question.24 Similarly, it seems reasonable that, in any culinary field, responses to 22. I follow Peterson (1997; see also Rao, Monin and Durand 2005) in maintaining that individuals must find a balance between conformity to a traditional style and originality to appear authentic. 23. In this regard, as I suggested above, cuisine is quite different from areas in which the goods produced do not necessarily have symbolic value, such as the biotechnical industry, and those in which the production of goods with symbolic value is not necessarily for-profit, such as painting. 24. Of course, empirical data would be required to substantiate what are merely reasonable expectations. It is worth noting, however, that simplicity and the quality of ingredients have been 229 Cooking Logics: Cognition and Reflexivity in the Culinary Field the two pressures may take the form of dishes with familiar foodstuffs and traditional ingredient combinations, along with discourses extolling the virtues of simplicity and ingredients on the one hand, and innovation through the introduction of new ingredients, ingredient combinations, technique or presentation, and claims about market pressures on the other. Insofar as we assume that individuals have a reflexive understanding of their work, and have come to create food and represent it through the perspective of their understandings, we can expect that their culinary styles would be associated with their reflexive self-understandings.25 Multiple factors go into the choices chefs make to create a particular dish, but self-concepts and the desire (or hesitancy) to innovate are key elements in the choices individuals make. Like creators in any field, some chefs may be eager to make frequent changes to the foods they prepare, learn new techniques, use new ingredients, and conceive fresh ideas, and others may never seek to change the type of dishes they create nor vary their work routines. Certainly, chefs tend to have a whole set of routinized skills and work processes—the mastery of which is essential to ensure consistent excellence in their dishes during the rush of dinner service.26 Yet, they may also act more imaginatively and forwardlooking,27 even if their own habits or pressures to achieve excellence do not always enable them to actualize their desires to create something new. Chefs make choices out of all the forces that shape their work based on their selfconcepts. Through these, they develop a compass that helps them navigate the field and focus on one of the two principles of culinary creation: flavor or the principle of excellence in cuisine, and the imperative of differentiation. In focusing on one of these principles, they make choices about their dishes and self-representations, either leaning towards tradition or innovation. As they prioritize one principle or another, they shape their culinary styles as well as their self-concepts thus locating themselves in the field through both their culinary styles and self-concepts. By the same token, chefs create their culinary styles and reflexively understand themselves from their particular positions in the field, given the constraints introduced by their restaurants, status, and social networks. That they make sense of the field and traditionally associated with Japanese cuisine in particular, whereas Chinese cuisine, for instance, has been generally likened to French cuisine for a higher reliance on technique than on ingredients, and a conceptual complexity in the creation of dishes (see Clark 1975). 25. For a conception of reflexivity along these lines, see Archer (2007). 26. Chefs may be able to conceive of new ideas, but the likelihood that they can turn them into a dish good enough to be served in an elite restaurant and that they can execute the dish under the heightened pressure that rules in restaurant kitchens during service is higher if the actions required to make the dish are relatively automatic. Indeed, chefs remark that they turn into robots in the kitchen, as there is no time to think during service. 27. For an exemplary work on individuals’ imaginative and forward-looking action, see Emirbayer and Mische (1998), and Mische (2008); see also Lahire (2003). 230 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region shape their self-concepts from their particular positions means, in effect, that they develop their practical theories of action from such positions. Through the analysis of individual cognition and reflexivity, this paper has sought to further our understanding of the social logic of creation in the culinary field. 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Zuckerman, Ezra. 1999. “The Categorical Imperative: Securities Analysis and the Illegitimacy Discount.” American Journal of Sociology 104:1398-1438. 233 Part 3: Mobile Producers Chapter 14 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking “Asian” as Embedded Cosmopolitanism Jean Duruz Copyright © 2010 by Jean Duruz All rights reserved 234 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction [Cheong] came up with four small islands of seafood on a bare white plate. There were tiny fillets of soused snook (pike) on avocado slices with a wasabi mayonnaise, thin slices of raw cuttle fish with squid-ink noodles, slices of poached octopus tentacles with a garlic mayonnaise and spiced prawn sushi with glutinous rice. … The result is a constant on the Grange’s menu. It can not be taken off. As a creation, it is myriad flavours and textures all in magnificent balance … Perhaps it is the greatest of Australian dishes. (Downes 2002, 72-3) At the time Chef Cheong Liew first conceptualized “Four Dances of the Sea,” he was no stranger to celebrity. The year was 1995; the place, Adelaide, Australia. Cheong had already established his reputation for innovation as “the first to open other chefs’ taste buds to Asian possibilities” (Ripe 1993, 20) through his legendary restaurant, Neddy’s, and his years of teaching [cookery] at the Regency Hotel School—arguably Australia’s leading centre of hospitality training. Now he was about to take up the position of “consultant chef” to the Adelaide Hilton International Hotel’s restaurant, the Grange (Downes 2002, 51, 78-80). In the same year, his book My Food, written with Liz Ho, was published. In its foreword, Barbara Santich, an Adelaide food historian, wrote “Cheong is a culinary magician, a sorcerer of the kitchen” (1995, xiii). While Cheong’s celebrity status might be considered unrivalled in the history of Australian cooking, this paper is not primarily concerned with Cheong’s history or his contributions. Instead, it offers a different perspective on the global circulation of people and their food cultures and the emergence of new culinary “styles” and social identities in its regional context—Southeast Asia. Conceptually, this paper aims to challenge the conventional distinction between the opposed figures, “chef” and Instead of a focus on celebrity, one on “real” places … Author’s photograph “cook” (Gunders, 2008), in other words, between the practiced professional with an eye on global trends, and the experienced home cook, whose skills are rooted in the rituals of his/her community. We will enter some of those grey spaces in between, spaces where professionalism and immigrant home-making become entangled: a family farm near a Malay kampong, a long table in an Adelaide garden, 235 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism the cluttered aisles in Adelaide’s Central Market, a table of chefs in Chinatown. In the process, the analysis addresses issues of identity, globalization, hybridity and cosmopolitanism that are negotiated within, and the dynamics of these “real” spaces. Specifically, the paper asks: how do global movements of people and their food continue to shape social identities in quite tangible and obvious ways? How might fashionable cooking “styles”—for example, “fusion,”—be reconceptualised as historically hybridized, embedded forms of everyday cosmopolitanism? What is the role of memory, encounter, exchange and place-making grounded in the practices of “cooking Asian” in Australia while at the same time fostering cosmopolitan sensibilities? Before proceeding, a comment on the analytic approach this paper adopts deserves mention. Sensitive to the nuances in a particular immigrant’s account of his experiences, memories, philosophies, and cooking, as well as his public profile, the argument develops a symptomatic reading of micro-narratives that emerged over several face-to-face conversations (Johnson, Chambers, Raghuram and Tinknell 2004, 194-5). Obviously, the intention here is not to produce a definitive account—I do not want to imply that a particular life history automatically claims “generalisability.” Instead, textual readings of interview fragments deliberately seek out the “everydayness” of Cheong’s narratives as intriguing points for reflection. In fact, by choosing a deliberate analytic path “against the grain” of the more usual one of celebrity and spectacle, I want to trouble its predictability. Such an approach allows for questions within the argument, at least, in regard to the hybrid histories of all food cultures and the mundaneity and locatedness of their cosmopolitan imaginaries. Places of memory: hawkers on the High Street … the farm near the kampong In his cooking, Cheong has a habit of returning to his roots. “Four Dances” signifies this return in its circular arrangement of “islands” on the plate, each indicating a critical place, person, or moment within Cheong’s culinary biography. The strongest flavoured “island” is spiced prawn with glutinous rice, representing “a salute to home,” more specifically, to Malaysia, particularly those years associated with his childhood, family, and growing up (Downes 2002, 72). The imagery of “crossroads” pervades Cheong’s memories of his early years. The shophouse from which Cheong’s family initially operated its wholesale chicken business, and later a Cantonese restaurant, stood on the busy Jalan Bandar (High Street) in the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur. The shophouse was close to a central bus station and market with a plethora of food stalls (Liew 1995, 1-2). “My favourite 236 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region stall was that of the Indian kachang man,” says Cheong. “He sold kachang puteh, roasted white beans…and a variety of fried beans and lentils.” “Just across the road,” he continues, “were numerous restaurants—Malay, Indian, Chinese—including the Chinese barbecue stalls with the most basic of tables and chairs, selling the equivalent of fast food” (1995,1). Nearby were Hokkien tea traders and noodle restaurants, and a Teh Chew restaurant serving congee with “a master stock full of duck and chicken, offal, pork ears and intestines, bean curd and pickles” (1995, 1-2). Hence, the shophouse is sited in Cheong’s memories not only near a main transport junction (from where point buses departed to points elsewhere in Malaya), but also at the “crossroads” of taste and ethnicity, where the proximity of different ethnic groups and their cuisines encouraged “eating across the borders” (cultural and religious rules permitting) (Tan 2001, 146-8). Hawker stalls in Penang Rd Author’s Photograph The ritual appearance of hawkers throughout the day in the street below adds additional layers to this narrative of cross-cultural eating, serving as a timely reminder of cooking across borders: At around eight the breakfast sellers would arrive. One of the first temptations was rice vermicelli cake with palm sugar. Then a Chinese lady would come with her nonya sweets, and around ten, the laksa man … At noon the yong tow fu man would come on his tricycle, bearing the vegetables and beancurd stuffed with fish farce [forcemeat]. At three or four in the afternoon the 237 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism rojak seller would enter the scene, and at five, the soup man with red bean soup, peanut soup, black rice soup, and sesame soup, all eaten with coconut milk. (Liew 1995, 2) While there is insufficient space to unravel the complex histories of these dishes, there are ample hints that these are stories of global migration (for example soups and stuffed bean curd from China; rojak, a spicy salad, from Indonesia), of local adaptation (the ubiquitous presence of palm sugar and coconut milk) (Holuigue 1999, 146), of culinary fusion and cultural exchange (laksa, a soup combining Chinese noodles with Malay spices and coconut milk emerging in kitchens of Chinese traders who had married Malay women in the Straits’ Settlements) (Brissenden 1996, 1856). Such a childhood, which we could perceive as Cheong’s then—its tastes, smells, textures and sounds—gives new meanings, or rather returns us to older meanings of “fusion” foods and “cosmopolitan” eating (Goldstein 2005, iv). These meanings are nostalgic ones formed at intersections of global movements (of people, goods and cultures) and locally produced cultures (of time, place, tastes and ethnicities). This, of course, is an inherent reminder (if one were needed) that global movements of people pre-date twentyfirst century forms of globalization and that “vernacular cosmopolitanism” is not the exclusive property of the “west” (Werbner, 2008). Crossroads, fusion food and nostalgic for the kampong ... Author’s photograph In this sense, “fusion” becomes a deeply embedded phenomenon, bearing the imprint of history, memory, movements and change. A salad of Moreton Bay Bugs [shellfish] and toasted salted fish, for example, which Cheong remembers as “one of the first Oz fusion dishes … I created … at … Neddy’s” (Liew 2006a, 19), becomes homage both to his Malaysian heritage and to the Australian coast and its bounty. Meanwhile, Cheong’s Christmas turkey with glutinous rice, saffron and turmeric, drawing on memories of “the kereosene-fuel oven that my aunty used for this creation,” brings to life the flavours of childhood. At the same time, the recipe is reworked (with the advice of local providores and availablility of ingredients) for readers of Cheong’s column in The Adelaide Review: “My gift to readers is this nostalgic recipe from past cultural crossroads,” he announces (2006b, 22). When Cheong was fourteen, his family and four other families of relatives moved to their farm on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur while converting the shop on Jalan 238 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Bandar to a restaurant. Nearby was a Malay kampong. With the extended Liew family invited to village celebrations, Cheong’s culinary biography now included the festive foods of kampong (1995, 3-4). Reflecting on kampong life and food production in the 1960s, especially having seen it close at hand, Cheong paints this nostalgic recollection: [It’s] an idyllic lifestyle, really. They like to live in a place … where everything is there for them. There’s always a river where they can net a few fish, a few chooks in the yard … The forest provides a lot of the herbs, you know … [to] … make their salads, and … wild fruits …, and there’s always coconut trees … Half the time they would just buy the rice and everything [else] is already provided … [so] why do they need to work so hard [laughter]. (Liew, Interview transcript) Kampong life, idyllic or not, is fast disappearing. In response to Malaysia’s ethnic riots of 1969, government programs were developed to increase industry, hence employment throughout all states, as a means to eradicate poverty. These policies resulted in more young people moving to cities to seek employment, while increasing numbers of women in rural areas sought work on nearby industrial estates (Andaya and Andaya 2001, 304). Meanwhile, in Singapore, with the movement of much of the population to state-built, high-rise apartment blocks as part of “a national public housing programme (initiated in 1963) to accommodate residents of overcrowded urban areas, villages and kampongs,” this left behind, in memories that still live on, a legacy of regrets for the irreplaceable loss of time, space, and most of all, “community” (Chua 1995, 228). Interestingly, Chua re-works this nostalgic longing as a strategy for criticizing the present: [I]nvoking the relaxed life of the kampung is not about desiring to go back to the kampung with all its material disadvantages. Instead it points to an alternative construction of “what life can be” in the presence of improved material conditions. (1995, 238) Thus does Cheong bring with him the values of the Malay kampong to the city of Adelaide, a city born “modern” under the planning of Surveyor-General Colonel William Light in the 1830s, and established as a gracious urban centre for a British colonial settler society (Whitelock 1985, 27-33, 180). Of his adopted city, Cheong says: I’m proud to be an Australian, especially in Adelaide. … The countryside is fantastic. Twenty minutes and you’re at the beach or in a vineyard in the hills. But the beauty of Adelaide is in its ingredients. If I want to cook Indian, Malaysian, Chinese or Vietnamese, I can go to the Central Market. And there you’ll 239 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism find one of the best food halls in all of Australia. … Here people actually care [about their cooking], which I think is wonderful. (Liew 2001, 7) Kampong Adelaide? Author’s photograph Certainly, for Cheong, there is no turning back to the kampong. After race riots broke out in 1969 (Andaya and Andaya 2001, 298), Cheong and his family dispersed to be reunited in Adelaide some years later. Nevertheless, in Cheong’s description (above) of the city that has become his home, there are echoes of his earlier memories of the shophouse in the kampong. Once again we find in Adelaide the crossroads, the fusion, the fresh produce of the countryside, a community that cares about its food. Adelaide can never be the kampong-as-utopia of his youth (and would we want it to be?). Yet even in the most satisfying of adopted homes, ghostly criticisms remain: “So why do they need to work so hard?” Where is the image of “what life can be?” Cheong recalls a past that in Adelaide is only partially recovered. Long tables: in the courtyard … in the garden Adelaide, with its “mediterranean” climate, predominantly low-rise architecture and tradition of green spaces—parklands and private gardens—is obviously suited to outdoor dining. At Neddy’s, the courtyard behind the restaurant, sheltered by a 240 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region grapevine that was “gnarled and almost a century old” (Liew 1995, 45), provided a particularly resonant space for “embedding” one’s identity as a chef, experimenting with new identities, culinarily speaking, and for creating a sense of community: We dreamed in the Land of Dreaming … and the courtyard led us to the Middle East along the spice routes, to the Greek Islands, to Tuscany, Provence, Singapore, Sichuan and last but not least to the Australian back garden. … [The courtyard] was urbane or homely depending on your needs—you could breastfeed there, or play politics, or both. (1995, 45) The homeliness of Neddy’s courtyard, in particular, is recalled by Cheong’s daughter, Gina, now in training as a chef in the Grange kitchen: “[As a child] I slept at the restaurant a lot, podded peas, peeled potatoes, generally hung around and I recall courtyard dinners we had there with big long tables of family and friends with kids running amok and waterfights” (quoted in Fleming 2008, 14). Interestingly, Cheong himself had a similar childhood of “growing into” cooking within the extended family’s kitchens (both at home and at restaurants) (Liew 1995, 2-3). There are other ways, too, that dining in the courtyard could sustain intimations of homeliness. In keeping with Cheong’s history of belonging to a Cantonese family business with rural connections— one in which pigs were spit-roasted at the back of the restaurant and chickens, of course, were provided from the family’s own farm—Neddy’s (illegally) maintained its commitment to freshness through the keeping of live chickens in the cellar and live pigeons “at the back” (1995, 46). Just as the vine-shaded courtyard might provide a microcosmic glimpse of family and community, so too, can it call up images and tastes of the past—of freshness, seasonality and “rootedness” in the landscape. “We dreamed in the Land of Dreaming ...” Photograph by Tony Lewis 241 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism Cheong, however, sketches an imaginative geography that releases the courtyard from its grounding in the “homely” and moves it in the direction of the “urbane.” Such “dreaming” might seem overly fanciful, of course, and riddled with clichés associated with travel destinations beloved of lifestyle prose (Falconer 2000, 5-6; Duruz 2004, 4312). Moreover, the outcome of such dreaming might seem politically dubious: rather than courtyard “dreaming” performed as a “[a reflection of] the multicultural mood of Australia in the 1970s” (Liew, 1995: 46), it might, in fact, appear to be encouraging the commodification of difference on behalf of greedy cosmopolitan consumers (Hage 1997, 118-120; Cook, Crang and Thorpe 1999, 230-1; Probyn 2000, 81-2; Heldke, 2003). Nevertheless, I want to suggest that Cheong’s “Land of Dreaming” is not simply a manifestation of free-ranging consumerism of a plethora of places and products. Instead, drawing on the courtyard’s tension of homely-urbane, I would argue that these landscapes contain traces of anchorage points and moments of exchange. The reference to the Greek Islands, for example, takes Cheong back to his early days of cooking in Adelaide when he worked in a Greek restaurant and learnt much from the chef who also loaned Cheong books on Greek food (Liew 2001, 5). One of the “dances” (“poached octopus tentacles with a garlic mayonnaise”) is a tribute to this period and to this mentor, while a further “dance” of snook with wasabi and avocado acknowledges a Japanese friend and colleague who conducted several fishpickling classes for Cheong’s students at the Regency Hotel School (Downes 2002, 72). His sources of knowledge, then, are varied, consisting of exchanges with colleagues, learning from books, and observations of other cultures: “Who are the Australians?”, “How do they think?”, “What do they cook in their kitchens?” “This intrigues me still,” says Cheong (2001, 5). These sources importantly add to those gained by drawing on one’s past memories and stock of pre-existing knowledge. From the courtyard at Neddy’s, it is a short step to one of the spaces it references—the iconic Australian backyard, with its legendary rituals of backyard eating and of outdoor cooking (Duruz, 1994: 199). Imagine it is the day of the Liew family’s “giant annual backyard Barbie [barbecue]” (Liew 2007a, 25). The household preparations are endearingly predictable: “We sweep the brick paving, clean down the barbie table, give the lawn a mow and get ready to grill for family and friends in the warm evening glow of summer” (2007a, 25). The sense of place, however, is even more palpable as Cheong describes the smells, flavours and textures of the feast. Lingering in the air are the aromas of fruit prunings thrown on the fire, the burning of wood from olive, pear, apple, persimmon, plum and orange trees and grapevines suggesting the seasonal abundance of garden and countryside. Meanwhile, a giant lobster is roasted in the embers, a ritual tribute to the sea, particularly near the South Australian coast (to which Cheong pays homage in his fourth “dance”—a portion of cuttlefish with squid ink noodles) (Liew 2007a, 25; Downes, 2002, 73). 242 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region A procession of dishes follow, recalling a mix of places and times, diverse cuisines and individual preferences. These include a salad of “mango, banana flower, Vietnamese mint, red chilli, cucumber and Spanish onion,” “earthy Italian sausages and super jumbo quails,” kingfish with spices, noodles and fresh coconut juice wrapped in banana leaves (for which, Cheong says, you can substitute leaves of fig, lime, persimmon or mulberry trees) and “a couple of young suckling pig legs … [as] the final touch” (Liew 2007a, 25). The point of this appetizing description of a backyard feast is not simply the celebration of Cheong’s expertise transferred from the courtyard to the home garden. Here, significantly, the back garden becomes a place with its own nostalgic associations. Perhaps these associations stem from “earthy Italian sausages” that remind us of Australia’s popular celebrated outdoor meals of “chops and snags [sausages]” (Dunstan 1976, 36) but add as well more cosmopolitan inflections; or perhaps these arise from images of traditional Adelaide gardens drowsing through summers of ripeness and fecundity, the leaves of the fruit trees yet suggesting new possibilities? In quite complicated ways, then, this garden re-invents Neddy’s long-gone courtyard with its tension between homely and urbane, its potential for remembering and dreaming—a reference to the past and future. (Neddy’s, after all, was the courtyard Cheong described as infused with “the aromas of Chinese pork and European venison, the romance of provincial France in the stone walls and the bouquet of big Australian reds [wines]”) (Liew 1995, 46). So, in grilled suckling pig and “earthy” Italian sausages, the ghosts of Neddy’s past and the ghosts of his family’s spit-roasts at the back of the shop, together with Proustianstyle remembrances of Australian gardens long past, haunt the Liews’ “giant annual backyard Barbie” and re-affirm “the sheer happiness of [having] family and friends around you” (2007a, 25). Melting pots, cooking pots: meeting at the Market … eating in Chinatown Adelaide’s gastronomic heart is indisputably its Central Market situated near the centre of the city’s original mile and operating continuously on that site since 1869 (Murphy 2003, 20-2). Much lauded in tourist literature, food media, the local press and particularly in collective remembering (Murphy 2003, 12), the Market reverberates with images of cornucopia, sensory pleasure, sociability and diversity—the sum of innumerable ingredients, people, cultures, the following description being typical: The Central Market is a mouth-watering melting pot of local and ethnic produce. Brilliant colours, intoxicating scents and animated camaraderie among the stallholders and customers make it a favourite meeting, eating and shopping spot. Wandering up and down the aisles it’s easy to be transported to South-east Asia, Italy, Spain or Greece—anywhere that great food and joie de vivre are in abundance. (Gerard 2004, 51) 243 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism Melting pots, cooking pots Author’s photographs Leaving aside the much-disputed term “melting-pot” (with its overtones of racial assimilation) (Giroux 1998, 181), the market performs as spectacle—a diverse array of tastes, textures, sights, sounds and encounters. Here is how Cheong describes his regular visits to the Market as explorations in the gastronomy of specific ethnic communities: One of the main attractions of working for the Hilton Hotel…is having the Central Market right next door.…You’ve got virtually the whole world—from Eastern European and Germanic to Mediterranean, from Vietnamese to Thailand to Malaysia to China. (Cheong, quoted in Murphy 2003, 121) Here, the Market, with its beguiling suggestions of global travel, and the intense differentiations between ethnic groups, cultures, seasons, geographies—not to mention the food products themselves and modes of preparation—echoes the courtyard’s “Land of Dreaming.” Nevertheless, the fulsome “world-on-a-plate” imagery, threading through Cheong’s comments and the typical Central Market described above, has disturbing connotations (Cook and Crang 1996, 136-7): Is this a scenario of exotic food products that have become fetishised as “taste experiences” to the extent that the people who produce and consume these traditional foods are simply shadows in the background? In Hage’s words, is this an example of “multiculturalism without migrants” (1997, 118)? I would argue against this by suggesting that Cheong’s relationship with the Market is well-grounded in significant ways. His accounts of market visits do not focus exclusively on celebrity products or celebrity chefs. Instead, these are peopled with everyday figures, satisfying eating rituals and instances of cross-cultural exchange. Crucially, these stories take shape firstly, through the poignancy of memory, and, secondly, through accumulated everyday interactions. 244 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Cheong has a long history of market-going. As a child of about eleven or twelve years in Kuala Lumpur, he would accompany his grandmother almost every day to a local market. He remembers these visits as ritual moments of sensory satisfaction: I like going to the market because it’s bustling and it’s still dark [outside] and it’s bright lights [inside] and I like looking at all the vegetables and the chooks, even when I was young and … the reward is to have my early bowl of porridge. … This is congee … and well, a lot of people would be put off by this, this is a porridge of mixed pigs’ offal. (Liew, Interview transcript) Like Hage’s Lebanese migrants, whose nostalgic images of home find a place in suburban Sydney’s alien landscapes (1997, 108), Cheong uses his own market memories (with all the familiar rush of excitement and exploration) to connect with markets elsewhere, transforming all markets into reflections of their ethnic pasts. “I love the [Central] Market. I just have some affiliation with any market,” Cheong says (Interview transcript). More precisely, all markets reflect the nuances of “home and the exotic.” Paradoxically, this allows the incorporation of the “strange” into the comforts of everyday living (Highmore 2007, 16). Furthermore, connections across place and time can also ensure a cycle of return: “I can still be known to turn up for a traditional bowl of laksa at Asian Gourmet in the Central Market on an early shopping expedition. I guess it is those Malaysian yearnings bringing me back to my spoilt-for-breakfast childhood” (Liew 2007b, 21). These cycles of embracing new places to the point that these become familiar ones while still remembering the old, continue to create complex spaces of belonging from which to venture forth into the unknown. And, in time, the ritual bowl of laksa at the Asian Gourmet acquires its own nostalgic baggage of “embedded” hybrid citizenship. Interestingly, this holds not only for Cheong but for Anglo-Australians as well, in spite of their very different histories— of eating and remembering—from his. (“On Friday nights customers still queue for tables … [at Asian Gourmet] where they first tasted authentic Asian food”) (Murphy 2003, 130). Cheong’s Central Market not only offers customers the tastes of “the world” or the “nostalgic past,” but also a rich body of characters: stallholders, customers, providers and a density of Central Market, Adelaide Author’s photograph 245 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism daily interactions. As a young chef, Cheong was part of a professional network that engaged with stallholders in ways that reflected their reciprocal respect for the Market’s flourishing cosmopolitanism: [As chefs w]e’d be looking for artichokes or we’d read a cookbook that mentioned a “salsifier” and if you didn’t know what it was you could go into the Market and ask a couple of European ladies who’d say, “Yeah, but it’s very hard to grow in Australia. We get it sometimes.” (Cheong, quoted in Murphy 2003, 122) This spirit of collaboration extends to assisting fellow shoppers and customers: “I just treat [going to the Market] as if … I’m just a normal person doing my shopping,” says Cheong, “And … if [people] come up to me [and ask questions] … I’m quite happy to give advice” (Interview transcript). Aside from the uniqueness of having a celebrity chef on hand to answer cooking queries, it is precisely the delightful serendipity of such exchanges that is part of the nostalgic attraction of contemporary markets: The modern public loved these powerful moments of local life which gave them a taste of types of social interaction, sociability, that had more or less vanished. In the cold world of market rationality, markets offered a little extra soul. (de la Pradelle 1996, 2) It would be unwise, however, to assume that relations in these microcosms of “local life” are always harmonious and without problems, because this would run counter to the basic assumption that stallholders (like any other competitive businesses) have their own imperatives: to market their goods and, increasingly, to market the center’s symbolic “soul” in this competitive context. Obviously, selling one’s “soul”—the unsellable—must be a contradictory enterprise. Gerard’s effusive description of the Central Market at the beginning of this section continues with hints of the delicate balance required for maintaining social relations, more specifically, managing the tensions and ambivalences of groups with competing interests yet sharing the same space. “Most people have a good relationship here [at the Market]. There’s a bit of healthy rivalry but most people are willing to help you if you run out of stock,” says Say Cheese Manager and coowner of Dough Bakery, David Mansfield (quoted in Gerard 2004, 51). That “Most people are willing” suggests, conversely, there are some who are not, and although the rivalry may be “healthy” (at least not destructive), there is no doubt that traders are continuously vying with each other for business. 246 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Cheong alludes to this contradiction somewhat obliquely. Initially he lists some of the “name” providores in and around the Market, some of whom he has known professionally “for about twenty or thirty years now.” At the same time he expresses some diffidence about developing close relations with a number of the market traders and their staff: I don’t have that sort of intimacy with them…because I do a lot of purchase round there so I have to keep a little bit of distance so I don’t want [them] to say “You have to buy this from me” or “You have to buy this from me”. … I don’t want to be tied down to buy from one shop … specially [as] they know I work for the Hilton. (Interview transcript) The image that offsets Cheong’s comment about “distance” and not having “that sort of intimacy” is his ubiquitous figure in the Market. In fact, all the Market “regulars” probably recognize him but are far too “cool” to acknowledge his presence. Even The New York Times has noticed. In one of its articles, reprinted in part in the local Adelaide press, the following observation is included: Everyone, from the guy deep-frying…fish and chips made from local King George whiting at Paul’s café…to the Grange’s celebrity chef, Cheong Liew, whom I spotted in Adelaide Central Market examining a kangaroo sausage as if he was diffusing a bomb, seems to have an obvious passion to live up to the cornucopia of fresh products that is… [South Australia]. (quoted in Jory 2008, 18) During our interview, I commented on the lack of privacy that labels like “celebrity chef” must engender, (as Cheong responds to shoppers’ queries), but he replied, “Well … that’s what life is, you know. I’m not a person [that] I have to be a really private person. I’m a market person, that’s what I am!” (Interview transcript) “Market person” is an appealing identity, for Cheong he trawls the stalls looking for “finds” and chats with the providores and enquiring cooks. Like the shophouse on the High Street, the Malay kampong, Neddy’s restaurant courtyard and the Liews’ Australian backyard garden, the market provides Cheong with an additional site for “grounded” everyday interactions. However, these interactions are not without inflection from other identity tracings. The figure of the chef haunts that of the cook as he offers advice, while at the same time keeping his “distance.” Cheong, in fact, is neither a normal shopper nor normal celebrity. The spirit of the market demands a sense of knowledge-sharing, a sense of belonging to an embedded community, and a sense of pleasure in ritual food practices. At the same time, the romanticisation of this spirit, together with the privileges and responsibilities of celebrity, must be 247 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism negotiated within market relations. The “warm fuzzies” (emotions of friendlinenss and sharing) of networks that I had anticipated among traders are tinged with a complicated mix of “willing to help” and “distance,” after all. A moment that was similarly unsettling (in terms of my expectations) occurred when Cheong and I moved our narrative from the Market’s main hall Eating in Gouger Street Author’s photographs to Gouger St., on its southern boundary. Gouger Street, a place that has been subjected to the same degree of hype in the popular press as the Market itself: [Gouger Street is] a gastronomic smorgasbord of diverse cuisine. … It’s the culinary equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle, a powerful vortex sandwiching Adelaide Central Market, Chinatown and 40-plus licensed restaurants along a 500m strip. … This delicious evolution [migration from 1950s] continues today with a healthy dash of Asian influences extending the blend. (Andrews 2007, 42) Cheong is delighted by the expansion, particularly the numbers of south-east Asian and northern and southern Chinese restaurants, clustering along the street and in the side lanes of Chinatown. For him, one of the positive outcomes of Gouger St. becoming the Asian food street of Adelaide is the development of a strong network of Chinese chefs who meet together regularly to exchange ideas: “Well, I’m not a restaurateur over there, but I do know virtually all the chefs… [Once] in a while everyone will bring a bottle of red wine and everyone will bring one dish to somebody’s restaurant and they’ll gather round and have a chat” (Liew, Interview transcript). None of this is surprising. Cheong can be seen regularly at the tables of Gouger Street restaurants. I’ve noticed as well how frequently he refers to local chefs in his column in The Adelaide Review (see, for example, 2007c, 24; 2008a, 27; 2008b, 35). However, when I comment on the generosity of this professional acknowledgement 248 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region and on the apparent camaraderie among the Gouger St. chefs, Cheong counters replies: Among the chefs there is a sense of competition…undercurrent. There’d have to be! … On the surface they all sort of love each other as brothers… [laughter]. [But] I think I’m in a fortunate position.… They all consider me as the outsider because I’m working in a hotel, you see.… I’m not part of the strip. (Interview transcript) With the band of brothers … Author’s photograph Of course, in a similar way to Cheong’s imagining himself as a “normal” Market shopper, his self-designation of “outsider” contains ironic overtones. These are not vested exclusively in the binary of business owner and paid worker or even small restaurants and hotel dining rooms, but more properly in that of international celebrity/local entrepreneur. I can only guess that that competitiveness might attain new heights when celebrity intervenes in the mix. Unravelling memories and everyday practices, this account of cooking, eating, shopping and talking in acclaimed gastronomic urban spaces, in romanticised rural landscapes and in the privacy of suburban backyards has become a hybrid one 249 Four Dances of the Sea: Cooking ‘Asian’ as Embedded Cosmopolitanism that challenges simple binaries. While certain figures dominate (or as the case may be, resonate) at points within the narrative—the celebrity chef versus other professionals, for example, or the migrant who carries market meanings as personal baggage versus a group of chefs’ professional excitement in discovering “new” produce—none of these figures are uncomplicated by other identity meanings. The figure of the migrant, for example, blends into that of celebrity chef and vice versa. Hence the title for Downes’ chapter on Cheong’s contributions to Australian cuisine (“Refugee to Gastro-Father”) (2002, 71) might need re-working. Remembered traces of childhood and family, migration and re-settlement are ever-present in Cheong’s gastronomy while experiences of celebrity and a profound sense of place shape his past, present and future. The refugee does not find himself left behind in the final stage of his culinary biography, or gastro-father status positioned as its pinnacle of achievement. In other words, Cheong’s Four Dances are not choreographed as one linear progression but merge together as a cyclic map of return and re-embedding. Grounds for belonging: “grounded” cosmopolitanism and hybrid citizenship Much debate has focused on the need for a “new cosmopolitanism” that addresses the task of living together in an increasingly globalized world in which people, goods and cultures appear constantly on the move (Werbner, 2008). The problematic element at the heart of many of these debates is shaped by critiques of westerncentric forms of liberal humanism, as, for example, in Martha Naussbaum’s work where, critics claim, “universal liberal values are privileged above family, ethnic group or nation” (Werbner, 2006: 497, citing Naussbaum, 1994; see also Bhabha 1996, 193-4). Approaching questions of nation, Malay identity and cosmopolitanism from the opposite direction to critics of universalism, Joel Kahn (2006) similarly complains of identity privileging, though this time privilege is not associated with the figure of the cosmopolitan. Instead, argues Kahn, locally situated identity representations that are “fixed” while at the same time, normalised—for example the mythical kampong dweller—ignore the complexity of people’s identity positionings and the (literal and figurative) mobility of members of the modern Malay nation. Our narrative of Cheong has deliberately trodden a path that takes heed of such debates. “Grounded” in everyday spaces, my analysis has sought to privilege neither the global nor the local, neither the chef nor the cook, the immigrant nor the celebrity, the kampong dweller nor the cosmopolitan. At the same time, like Kahn, and like Naussbaum’s critics, I want to produce more complex figurings of cosmopolitan sensibilities. So, here “cooking Asian” and “eating Asian” in the city of Adelaide, Australia (a nation continuing as a colonial settler society, and one ambivalently 250 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region sited in the Asia-Pacific) (Moreton-Robinson, 2003, 37-8; Liddle, 2003, 23), becomes an exercise in hybridity—a series of strategic moves in identity bordercrossing rather than a dissolution of boundaries; an exercise in place and identity-making rather than simply resorting to “fusion” as a spectacular house “style.” Of course these moves are not always successful or without their losses (Cheong’s interview narratives range from the dark days of escape from racial hatred and the struggles of living in diaspora to survival in a competitive industry and its inevitable disappointments—his proposed venture for a commercial neighbourhood kitchen was rejected by a local council, for example) (Liew, Interview transcript). Nevertheless, his “I’m a market person” not only serves as an aide memoire for nostalgic travel to the past and for future encounters but also underlines the significance of space itself—spatiality—and of “real” spaces for negotiating difference and belonging (Jacobs 1996, 5). This dynamic is aptly captured by Jacobs, as she describes the struggles between different groups occupying the same “real” spaces and their different attributions of meaning to these: “These struggles produce promiscuous geographies of dwelling in place in which categories of Self and Other, here and there, past and present, constantly solicit one another” (1996, 5). From the perspective of struggle, it seems that practice of “cooking Asian” in a “European” city of the Asia-Pacific is never completely embedded as idealized conceptions of culinary cosmopolitan citizenship, or in utopian imaginings of crossroads, collective sharing, respect for nature, awareness of diverse cultures, and pleasure through sensory embodiment. Instead, within relations of “real” spaces, these practices require continual wooing and re-embedding. In the everyday realm of this courtship, hybridized foods and identities become not only touchstones of productive encounters with people of different backgrounds but also of “embedded” cosmopolitan sensibilities for managing the challenges of social life. While few of us are celebrity chefs, of course, we share in the tricky but potentially rewarding experience of meeting and eating at intersections of place, memory, taste and difference, which is, after all, the province of us all. 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Copies in Chef Liew’s, and in author’s, possession. 253 Part 3: Mobile Producers Chapter 15 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan Rossella Ceccarini Copyright © 2010 by Rossella Ceccarini All rights reserved 254 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region According to the Italian Restaurant Guide of Japan, published in 2006 by the Italian Trade Commission, there are 3,974 restaurants serving Italian cuisine, or at least dishes inspired by Italian cuisine all over the Japanese archipelago. Pizza is among the most popular dishes. The purpose of this paper is to give an overview of the status of pizza production in Japan based on the experiences and knowledge of the people who prepare these pizzas, namely “pizzaiolos,” and the Italian restaurateurs who work in Tokyo. Tasting Italian food at the Italian Pavilion. Foodex Japan 2009. Photo by Rossella Ceccarini This emphasis on the food producer’s experience is based on the assumption that researchers on food consumption in Japan have paid considerable attention to the Japanese customer and the way their eating habits have changed since the introduction of new foods (Ohonuki-Tierney 1997; Ashkenazi and Jacob 2000; Cwiertka 2006) but little is known about those who produce it. The paper also notes the way foreign food has become “glocalized,” that is, how international foods have become domesticated or tailored to local contexts (Tobin et al. 1994). Prior to being consumed, food and cuisine must be crafted and prepared. Thus, this paper looks 255 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan at the glocalization of foreign culinary products from the perspective of the food creator, in other words, how the worker as an individual agent of globalization, plays an important role in spreading glocalization and making the culinary product desirable. The first part of the paper introduces the background of pizza restaurants in Tokyo, and the second part focuses on the pizzaiolos. Before moving to the above issues, let me first write about the qualitative data rendered in this paper. All quotes are based on open-ended interviews with pizzaiolos and restaurateurs involved in the Italian restaurant business. The interviews were held in Tokyo between winter and autumn 2008 and have been digitally recorded and transcribed. The interviews were held in Italian, Japanese and English, but due to limited space and other practical reasons, I’m presenting only English translations of the original-language quotes. I have tried to respect the privacy of my informants by omitting their names where possible. Some of the informants are popular actors in the restaurant business and easily recognizable; hence their names have not been changed. Information has also been obtained from printed and on-line sources as well as from personal visits to Italian restaurants in and around Tokyo. Pizza and Pizzerias in Tokyo A fast search on Google will show that pizza, as a food and a term, has truly gone global. However, the thousands of pizza titles popping out from the Internet as a search result evokes in the reader different images and tastes. One person could be thinking of wedge-shaped slices topped with cheese and pepperoni, while someone else could be thinking of red tomatoes and white mozzarella covering a soft crust; then another person might be thinking of some kind of crunchy Italian food. To categorize the variations, we can begin by distinguishing between a standardized pizza and a handcrafted one (Helstosky 2008). The standardized pizza originated in the United States, and for this reason I will refer to it as American pizza in this paper, even if there are hand-made American pizza establishments as well. Generally, the American pizza maker uses industrial preparation techniques and is sold by pizza chain restaurants that usually deliver to their customers. It is a large sliced pizza, heavily garnished, baked in pans, and the taste is homogeneous, so a Domino’s pepperoni pizza ordered in Chicago should taste the same as one ordered in London or in Paris. The handcrafted pizza, on the other hand, originated in Italy as the food of the poor and slowly became an emblem of Italian national cuisine. It is made by an expert pizzaiolo using artisanal methods. The pizza is baked directly on the stone of a wood-burning oven, and is garnished with only a few fresh ingredients. There are precise rules to be followed in the making of the artisanal pizza, so no pizza will taste exactly the same. Flavor and crust texture depends upon the pizzaiolo him 256 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region or herself, the quality of the ingredients, the oven, and other elements. As noted by Helstosky (2008), McDonald’s & Co. have left no room for small, independent hamburger shops, but pizza chains have not replaced the artisanal pizza. All over the world, including Japan, standardized and handcrafted pizza seem to coexist without any particular problems. The escalation of the pizza’s popularity in Japan and its link to the Italian restaurant scene, can be broadly traced through three main periods: the 1950 - 60s, 1970 - 1980s, and 1990s to the present. 1950 - 1960s The darker side of Tokyo’s underworld can account for much that happened during the post-war period, as seen through the eyes and the questionable life of Nicola Zappetti. As written by Robert Whiting (1999), Mr. Zappetti was an American marine of Italian descendants who made his way into the Japanese underground economy and became involved with the yakuza. In 1956, following his release from jail, he opened “Nicola’s pizza house” in the Roppongi area. He was neither a chef nor a restaurateur. Thus he built his knowledge of pizza relying on his sense of taste, a few cookbooks, and what he used to eat back home in New York. While he lost his restaurants through a series of unfortunate events (e.g. gambling losses, wrong investments, wrong business partners, divorce), his name and his mustached figure holding a stack of pizzas is still prevalent. Part of his pizza parlor business went to his ex-wife and another part to Nihon Kotsu, one of the largest taxi companies in Tokyo. Nevertheless Zappetti played an important part in spreading the popularity of pizza in Japan. In the same area and period, Mr. Antonio Cancemi opened his Italian restaurant. Antonio was a trained chef, born in Sicily in 1916. He graduated from a culinary school and joined the Italian navy as a chef. In 1943 he reached Japan onboard an Italian military vessel during the month of September, when Italy surrendered. As a Japanese ally, Antonio was by classification an enemy to the U.S., but his cooking expertise led him to Nicola’s Pizza House in Seibu Department Store, Ikebukuro. Photo by Rossella Ceccarini cook for General McArthur on a train trip around Japan in 1946. In 1957, Antonio moved his operations from Kobe to Tokyo, 257 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan and almost immediately pizza became one of his restaurant’s most popular dishes. Today, Antonio’s is the oldest family owned Italian restaurant in Japan. Its flagship restaurant is in Aoyama accompanied by many other restaurants, delicatessens and cafes throughout Japan. 1970 - 1980s In the 1970s and 1980s pizza chains began to make their way into Japan, taking advantage, we can assume, of the Foreign Capital Law, which was revised as follows in 1969: In March 1969, Japanese Foreign Capital Law was revised so that foreign-capital restaurants in Japan could operate freely. Restaurant businesses from abroad penetrated the Japanese market openly through direct investment or by operating agreements. Under that law, it became easy for Japanese companies to make an alliance of technology and capital with foreign corporations. From the end of World War II until 1969, Japan made it impossible for private retailers and restaurant businesses to take in foreign capital, because Japan promoted national-sector businesses rather strongly. The revised Foreign Capital Law was welcomed by the restaurant industry. (Doi 1992,73) We can learn through various corporate websites that Shakey’s Pizza and Pizza Hut opened in 1973, followed by Domino’s pizza in 1985. The first Japanese shop called “Pizza La,” opened in the Mejiro area of Tokyo in 1986.1 To the present day, American chains are marketing an American pizza style while Pizza La seems to favor the Italian style. Even if Pizza La sells a product that no Italian would recognize as Italian, Pizza La’s TV commercials use the word “buono,” the Italian term for “good.” In one television ad, three young Japanese girls place their index fingers under their cheek bones, twisting them while saying, “Buono.” It is a gesture usually used in Italy when addressing children to indicate something delicious. In the 1970s and mid 1980s we could witness the continued spread of pizza chains, and along with it the success of Italian cuisine in general. Such terms as イタ飯 (itameshi) and イタ飯ブーム (itameshi boom), indicated that Italian food and Italian cuisine were now popular and friendly words of the 1980s. Among the restaurants and people partly responsible for the boom was Carmine Cozzolino. 1. For the first opening dates see the following websites: Shakey’s http://www.rkfs.co.jp/shakeys/ history.html#35th; Pizza Hut http://www.pizzahut.co.uk/restaurants/our-history.aspx and http:// www.pizzahut.jp/more/effort.php; Domino’s http://www.dominoseastgrinstead.co.uk/funfacts.htm ; Pizza La http://www.four-seeds.co.jp/corporate/history_1980.html 258 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Carmine Cozzolino was born in Calabria, southern Italy, and arrived in Japan in 1978, holding a cultural visa and a lifetime ambition to become an aikido master. He first lived in a monastery near Mount Fuji and then moved to Tokyo. Though aikido remained his main interest, he started working in various Tokyo restaurants in order to make a living. But he was not satisfied with the dishes he was required to make: In those days, most Japanese restaurant owners requested you to put some sort of sauce in the Milanese [fried cutlet dipped in egg and breadcrumbs] because it was the French way. I mean, yes, French do cook in that way, but we don’t! So it was something like…I was taken by a sort of anger like…“I will show you how it is supposed to be in the restaurants” … At the end… I opened up my own restaurant and it became a boom….It was bizarre. You needed months and months of reservations. (Interview with Carmine Cozzolino, April 2008) Because of this sort of prejudice towards the Italian cuisine that prevailed in most Japanese owned restaurants, Carmine opened his own business in a Tokyo area known as Kagurazaka in 1987. Though small (in fact a hole in the wall), that is how he likes to talk about it. There were only twenty-five miniature tables around which students, “salary-men,” dating couples and occasionally showbusiness people crowded. According to Carmine, the popularity of the place was due to low prices, a friendly atmosphere and, of course, the Italian food itself. Even if different from Japanese food, it proved to share the rule of simplicity: few natural ingredients and not too many rules of etiquette. Earnings were so high each year that finally he had to move to more spacious accommodations on the opposite side of the street. The business spirit of Carmine has always been to open a restaurant with Exterior and interior of the first Carmine restaurant. Photographs courtesy of Mr. Carmine Cozzolino an image of himself as the first customer of the place. In 1987 he opened his 259 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan restaurant according the needs of a single, thirty-year-old man, wishing to dine with his friends or take his fiancée to a foreign restaurant without having to go through all his savings. In the 1990s being a forty-year-old man with a family and children, he was thinking of a place to dine without having to worry about noisy youngsters, broken glasses, or high prices. With this “forty-year-old married man with children” idea in mind, he opened Pizzeria La Volpaia (The Fox’s Lair) in 1995. Again it became a boom. Little foxes were drawn on the walls, and the room(s) contained long tables with benches to sit on. Importantly, it was easy to clean the concrete flooring. Moreover, it was a self-service environment. Unable to install a wood-burning oven in a wooden structure, he brought an electric oven from Italy. Though his initial idea was to make the restaurant a fun place for kids, it became, once again, a place to take someone on a date. Thanks to the self-service system, the restaurant required fewer personnel, and so the profit margin rose to 40%. The restaurant closed in 2005 because the old wooden house had to be torn down to build a typical Japanese mansion, but Pizza Carmine is still to be found in and around Tokyo. 1990s - present As observed during the years following the war, the pizza scene was dominated by pioneers of Italian cuisine. In the 70s and 80s there followed a boom in Italian cuisine on one hand, and the birth of pizza chains on the other, mostly standardized pizza. Beginning with the 1990s, we can see the rise of pizzerias as well as a rise in popularity of Napoli style pizza. Plastic Pizza samples displayed outside an Italian Chain Restaurant, Tokyo. Photo by Rossella Ceccarini 260 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Pizzerias are sometimes run by Italians and marketed in a traditional, familyoriented Italian environment, but very often they are owned by Japanese food corporations. For instance, the big Nisshin Seifun Group owns the pizzeria chain “Partenope,”2 taking the name after a mermaid that, according to the legend, died in the gulf of Napoli. Similarly, Still Food Corporation holds a number of “Pizzeria 1830” establishments.3 This name refers to the year in which “Pizzeria Port’Alba” (founded in Napoli in 1738) became the first modern pizzeria with tables and chairs (Levine 2005). In the past, the pizzeria was a small workshop where peddlers bought the pizza to be sold on the street. Eventually, take-away pizza was sold directly to customers, and by the end of the 18th century, some benches found their way into the pizzeria, enabling customers to sit and eat (Benincasa 1992; Capatti 2001). Along with pizzerias held by Japanese food corporations, there are also familyowned pizzerias run by Japanese pizzaiolos, who are sometimes assisted in the business by their wives. Two examples are “Pizzeria Dream Factory” (opened in 1994) and “Pizzeria Il Pentito” (opened in 1998). Both are owned and run by Japanese men who left their old jobs to become pizzaiolos. One was a laundry shop owner and the other a fashion buyer. Beginning with the 1990s the pizzaiolo sometimes became a figure of celebrity status in the restaurant scene, the most popular being Salvatore Cuomo.4 He was born in Italy and moved to Japan with his family in the late 1980s and for a while traveled back and forth between Italy and Japan. His father ran a restaurant in Kichijoji, an area slightly west of Tokyo that continues to be very popular among foreigners and the younger generation. When his father fell ill, Salvatore had to work alone in the restaurant business with the help of his younger brothers. Being continually exposed to his father’s work, and since Italian cuisine was blooming all over Tokyo, it was not difficult for Salvatore to find work as a pizzaiolo and chef. He started teaching Italian cuisine at a popular Italian language school and after working at several locations he began to appear in popular magazines. In 1995, Salvatore conducted what was called “the tomato battle” on the Iron Chef TV Show along with his younger brother. With this, his name grew until he was “scouted” to manage Salvatore Cuomo Brothers and Pizza Salvatore Cuomo, which today is known as “Y’s Table corporation.” This corporation also holds a number of Asian and French cuisine restaurants. PIZZA SALVATORE CUOMO is advertised as follows: PIZZA SALVATORE CUOMO, produced by Chef Salvatore Cuomo, is an Italian-style pizzeria. Thin-crafted but chewy Neapolitan pizza 2. http://www.nisshin.com/english/english32.html 3. http://www.stillfoods.com/1830/index.html 4. Information drawn from an informal interview with Mr. Raffaele Cuomo in February 2008 and from printed and on-line press articles (See references). 261 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan is baked quickly in the wood-fired oven built by a Neapolitan Craftsman. Now delivery service enables this real taste to be enjoyed at households and offices. Gather your family and friends and enjoy the party in Italian style with PIZZA SALVATORE CUOMO’s Neapolitan pizza.5 Today the trade mark, Salvatore Cuomo, and his restaurants are not only known in Kanto, Tokai and Kinki regions of Japan but are also making their way into Shanghai. Moreover, there are plans to open locations in Seoul. The pizza of Napoli is also promoted by the Japanese branch of the Italian Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana. The association was founded in Italy in 1984 to promote and safeguard the traditional pizza of Napoli as a response to the rise of fastfood pizza chains and industrially-made pizzas often marketed as “Pizza from Napoli.” Pizzerias making their pizza in accordance to the Napoli system can become members of the association and display the trademark of “Verace Pizza Napoletana (VPN).” The goals of the association are also supported at the local level by the Municipality of Napoli and at national level by the Italian Ministry of Food and Agriculture. The association has members all over the world. As for Japan, the first pizzerias to display the trademark VPN in Tokyo were the “Ristorante Pizzeria Marechiaro”6 in 1996, followed by “La Piccola Tavola”in 1998.7 Today the association has members in the northern city of Sapporo and has its own independent branch in Tokyo, established in 2006. It should be noted that in Italy the various pizza associations do not always agree on the pizza recipe and regulations promoted by the VPN. However, this does not diminish the importance of the association’s role in spreading traditional, hand-crafted pizza throughout Japan. The association frequently promotes seminars conducted by master pizzaiolos coming directly from Italy, and in 2007 the association published the book The veracious pizza of Napoli, craft book (真のナポリピッツァ技術教本). The book features a short history of pizza, the Napoli style pizzerias of Tokyo, the pizzaiolos who studied in Italy to learn how to make pizza, and includes several recipes with colorful photographs. Pizzeria Tonino in Tokyo receives the VPN trademark May 2009. Photograph courtesy of Mr. Toshi Shino. 5. salvatore.jp/restaurant/index.html 6. Information from http://www.bellavita.co.jp/company.html 7. Information from http://www.pizzanapoletana.org/showassoc.php?id=94 262 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region The Pizzaiolo So why did pizza become so popular in Japan and other parts of the world? Probably it is because of the simple idea that a dish of bread with tasty toppings, simple in shape and size, has potential roots everywhere. Perhaps it is the pizza’s adaptability to a variety of ingredients (first reflecting the regions of Italy and now the world) that has enabled the development of local pizzas. The pizza’s initial popularity doubtless has roots in American society’s mass production and consumption market (La Cecla 1998; Capatti 2001; Helstosky 2008), but as noted by Sanchez, the role of the pizzaiolo should not be underestimated: During the 1930s, the years of the American prohibition, it is to him [the pizzaiolo] that we owe the merit of having attracted the Americans. Americans ventured into the various Italian neighborhoods to buy alcohol, and while allowing themselves to be tempted by a dish of spaghetti, they observed from a distance an amazing worker making a circular shape, dough flying into the air. (Sanchez 2007, 170, author’s translation) The establishment of pizza as the everyday dish of the poor has its roots in Napoli (Capatti 2001), which is also true for the origin of the pizzaiolo (Benincasa 1992). The occupation has evolved to such an extent that in recent years (2005, 2006 and 2008) a bill (in draft form) has been presented to the Italian parliament intended to discipline the trade and to create a sort of European certification for pizzaiolos.8 Meanwhile, to deal with growing requests for pizzaiolos in Italy and abroad, pizza schools have mushroomed all over Italy, supported by dozens of pizza associations. Nevertheless, the craft of making pizza is still, as a rule, learned through apprenticeships in a pizzeria. As mentioned by my sources, in traditional pizzerias the roles (preparation duties) are fundamentally comprised of three persons working around a wood-oven in a hierarchical order: the pizzaiolo who makes the dough, rolls it out, and prepares the topping; the baker who is in charge of baking the pizza; and the table assistant who is in charge of such tasks as slicing the mozzarella and placing the ingredients in their respective containers. After a long apprenticeship, the table assistant is expected to become a baker and then pizzaiolo. Nowadays, the task divisions are becoming less common in the sense that assistants are also involved in making 8. Italian Parliament. Draft Bill 426, XVI legislature (2008). http://www.senato.it/japp/bgt/showdoc/frame.jsp?tipodoc=Ddl pres&leg=16&id=302278 Draft Bill 382 , XV legislature (2006). http://www.senato.it/japp/bgt/showdoc/frame.jsp?tipodoc=Ddlpres&leg=15&id=209067 Draft Bill 3380 , XIV legislature (2005). http://www.senato.it/japp/bgt/showdoc/frame.jsp?tipodoc=Ddlpres&leg=14&id=135709 263 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan pizza. Italian pizzaiolos acquire their skills from an early age, usually through the perpetuation of family tradition. In fact, all of my Italian informants started their pizzaiolo apprenticeships before the age of fifteen. The following excerpts illustrate how deeply embedded—from youth—the pizzeria system is: I come from Ischia Ponte, the oldest village of Ischia Island. My house is surrounded by pizzerias. Just for play, at the age of 7, I started unconsciously learning the craft at Pizzeria Di Massa. Relatives, same family…but in that place there used to be a great maestro pizzaiolo, Tonino Troncone, and from age 7 until I turned thirteen I just played, always inside that place. Always… Neapolitans joke, the oven, and of course, the pizza that is so delicious…and is among kids’ preferred food…. Anyway, I ended up at age thirteen being completely autonomous, quite able by myself to run a pizzeria and make every single part of the pizza: the dough, setting the working table…the oven, which is the most complicated part. (Interview with Italian pizzaiolo A, March 2008) …I gradually entered this kind of occupation in 1977 during the school summer breaks. Instead of letting me go out with friends to play soccer or to ride the bike, or to go to the country side to steal oranges or fruits, my mother would send me to the shop so I could learn a job. (Italian pizzaiolo B, February 2008) Having worked all over Italy and Europe, pizzaiolos often find work in Japan through word of mouth and other casual networks. For instance: I did not know anyone who had working experience in Japan. I became familiar with this country thanks to a Japanese friend of mine living in Milan with his Italian wife and two children. He proposed that I work independently here in Japan for one of his friends in an area called Saitama. I was about to decide between Russia and China but I chose Japan because of its peacefulness. (Italian pizzaiolo B, February 2008) In short, when an Italian pizzaiolo arrives in Japan he already has a job, some kind of accommodation, and visa sponsorship. But he doesn’t have a strong knowledge of the local culture and does not speak Japanese. Nevertheless, he has the job skills and knowledge, or more specifically, what could be called in Bourdiean terms, cultural capital. In short, he has what it takes to ply his trade in Japan. Such knowledge and the skill can be illustrated through this story by one of my sources. He found a job in a restaurant that was already employing a Japanese pizzaiolo. While the Japanese pizzaiolo could make 50-60 pizzas in one day, the Italian pizzaiolo could make up to 140-150 pizzas by himself. Eventually, the Japanese pizzaiolo quit the job and looked for a different restaurant. But my informant made clear that he did not mean to oust the Japanese pizzaiolo from his work place: 264 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region An Italian Pizzaiolo baking pizza in Tokyo. Photo by Rossella Ceccarini He quit on his own because I became the first pizzaiolo. But by now, I had already taught him several Napoli-style tools of the trade. Towards the end, we competed against each other, but he just couldn’t keep up, falling behind by thirty pizzas within a two-hour period. Finally he gave up! (Italian pizzaiolo C, April 2008) Dealing with Japanese flour, water and atmospheric conditions that are different from Italy also requires special knowledge and skill. Japanese humidity is so high during the summer that it is necessary to pay careful attention to the leavening process. Without this precaution the dough could, in a sense, “explode.” The oven must also be carefully cleaned and cared for. As pointed out by one pizzaiolo residing in Japan for about 10 years (and having nearly 30 years of business experience), a pizzaiolo’s occupation is: …a very particular job, it is a sense. When I make the dough or check the oven temperature…I do not use a thermometer or such similar device. I just use my hands. (Italian pizzaiolo A, March 2008) To develop such a sense, the Japanese pizzaiolo goes to Italy and studies the craft. The pizzaiolos I have met with so far went to Italy starting from the 1990s, but the chances that some Japanese traveled to Italy for this purpose before the 1990s cannot be discounted. This is because Pizzaiolos are not formally trained in culinary 265 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan schools as is usually the case for chefs. Most of the “want to be” pizzaiolos go to Italy on tourist visas and search for on-the-spot training at a pizzeria. This informal condition of flux and lack of official data make exact training time, or starting points, difficult to account for. Some of my Japanese informants had worked in restaurants as Italian cooks and then moved to Italy to improve themselves. Such was the case with Makoto Onishi, now a pizzaiolo and chef at Salvatore Cuomo. Below, he recalls his first encounter with Napoli style pizza in Tokyo: When I ate [that pizza] I was struck by how delicious it was. So impressive! That cornicione [pizza frame] and that dough were delicious. Even as a cook trained in Italian cuisine, I could not understand how the pizza dough could be so soft and could have both a pleasant soft and springy [もちもち mochi mochi] texture in the mouth. Such a good taste…. I then realized that if that is the way a good pizza should taste, I would have much to learn…. That taste! How to get it would be my goal. That is when Italy became a part of my life-long project—to go to Italy to learn the real art of making pizza. (Interview with Makoto Onishi, June 2008) After spending about two years learning how to make pizza, he also participated in—and won—a pizza competition, as we will see later. Onishi brought with him a basic grasp of the Italian language, which he studied by himself, but there was no job waiting for him. Upon his arrival in Napoli, he met an Italian doctor at the train station who helped him find a job as a pizzaiolo on the island of Ischia. He was not the only person with lucky encounters. Another informant who, having studied European Philosophy, travelled to Europe after his graduation in 1994. At that time he had no interest in pizza or the possibility of becoming a pizzaiolo. But one day as he was walking on the streets of Napoli he was approached by a young Italian man who was studying Japanese at a university. The man asked, “Are you Japanese?” “Yes, I am Japanese, not Chinese.” Then he invited me to his house and made me dinner. He talked a lot because he was very interested in Japanese culture. Then we went together to that pizzeria… how is it called? The most famous pizzeria of Napoli, Pizzeria Da Michele. He said that I must have pizza in Napoli, and so we went to eat pizza. Pizzeria Michele surprised me. It was something new. I felt something new, even the atmosphere of the pizzeria. (Japanese pizzaiolo B, July 2008) So impressed was he by this event that decided to learn how to make pizza and was introduced by his new Italian friend to the owner of a pizzeria. He recalls his new part-time job: 266 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region I asked to work. Even washing the dishes would be fine. So I worked only during the weekends, but this way I could also see the work of the pizzaiolo and what kind of job it was. It was fascinating: the atmosphere of the pizzeria, the laughing and the telling of jokes. The atmosphere of Italian restaurants in Japan were, how would you say, completely different. I don’t know how it is now, but 14 years ago Italian restaurants [in Japan] were like conservative French restaurants. (Japanese pizzaiolo B, July 2008) One way to find a job in Italy is to seek out the various pizzerias. But, given the growing links and network connections between the Italian and Japanese regarding the pizza trade (thanks to the first young Japanese going to Italy and vice versa), we can assume that Japanese who now go to Italy already have pizzeria employment connections. Also, language schools probably play a role in making connections. For instance, a young Japanese working in a Tokyo pizzeria, when asked, “How might you find a place to work in Italy?” he replied that he would be helped by the Italian owner of the Italian language school he is attending. When the training in Italy is over, the Japanese pizzaiolo returns to Japan having acquired job skills and cultural knowledge. Not only has he learned how to make pizza, but he has also learned that there are different kinds of pizza and pizza tastes around Italy. Such is the case of a Japanese pizzaiolo who was asked by a restaurant manager to move from Napoli to a holiday town in Calabria and to work there alone during the summer. Here is his reaction to the experience: There is a difference. For instance, in the region of Calabria basil is not used in the pizza Margherita. They only use oregano and tomato when they make pizza Margherita but include spicy condiments. Yes there are differences. Also they like it kind of crispy…. Well, Neapolitans also like it crispy but let’s say, a little softer. (Japanese pizzaiolo B, July 2008) Once back in Japan, the pizzaiolo will easily find a job in one of the local pizzerias and will likely be responsible for the training of new pizzaiolos. Some Japanese pizzaiolos who trained in Italy have won important pizza competitions. For example, the Italian and Japanese press paid considerable attention to Makoto Onishi who won the Pizzafest Competition in Napoli in 2003, and in 2006. Likewise, Hisanori Yamamoto won a trophy for the most creative and artistic pizza in 2007 and in 2008. However, Japanese do not go to Napoli only to learn how to make pizza. They also study the regional pizza markets of Italy where the number of pizzerias is relatively high, such as in Emilia Romagna. Takeshi Morita, for instance, worked and received his training near the city of Ravenna for about three years. In 2001, he won the 267 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan “Gusto della Pizza” (The taste of pizza) prize in a competition held at the Padua Pizza Show. There is also the acrobatic pizza team of Japan that consistently places among the best three (first in 2004) at the world competition held annually in the city of Salsomaggiore, in northern Italy. One might conclude that sometimes the trophies won by Japanese are seen by Italian pizzaiolos as the result of a certain marketing strategy; that is, through media exposure the pizza festival gains in popularity outside of Italy and accordingly, the Japanese companies acquire more recognition and credibility if their pizzaiolos have won a competition in Italy. This might, or might not, be the case, but the basic fact that young Japanese go to Italy by themselves to learn how to make pizza is unquestionable. They acquire the necessary knowledge to become pizzaiolos, thus helping to spread an interest in pizza and pizza cooks throughout Japan. The experience of working in Italy and having won pizza awards can easily lead to television appearances, including major shows, and appearances in popular magazines. As we have seen, prior to the 1990s, the making of Italian pizzas in Japan was mostly done by Italian chefs, such as the pioneer, Antonio Cancemi in the 1950s. From the 1990s, there was a need for pizzaiolos, which led to a search for pizzaiolos in Japanese restaurants. This employment is now recognized as a specific occupation. That can be inferred, for instance, from the advertisement of Granada, a Corporation holding the various pizzerias “Isola” around Japan. Hard to find in Tokyo. A Japanese female Pizzaiolo setting up the dough. Photo by Rossella Ceccarini Granada Corporation has a web page dedicated to the occupation of pizzaiolo and to the search for new ones. The company stresses that the image of the pizzaiolo is different from “cook,” as is the case in Italy. Granada offers an attractive three year apprenticeship contract for aspiring pizzaiolos whose participants learn the basics of the job in the first six month and earn a salary between 180,000 - 200,000 yen per month. By the third year they become competent pizzaiolos, often responsible for a shop, and earn between 250,000 – 500,000 yen a month.9 As we can see, the globalization of pizza has not only introduced a new food but also a new occupation into Japan. Today the word, ピッツァ職人 (pizza shokunin), is used to indicate a pizza artisan and the word, ピッツァイオーロ (pizzaiolo), has entered the Japanese katakana dictionary (Sanseido’s concise dictionary of katakana words 2005,865). 9. Information from http://www.granada-jp.net/saiyo/pizza.html 268 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Conclusion While most studies on foreign food in Japan have been considered from the customer’s perspective and how they react to the new food, this paper has focused on the food worker’s perspective. The paper has shown that by looking at food from the worker’s point of view we can see at least two significant issues: a) That food is not as a mere commodity but an artifact of human ingenuity. It is a creative product shaped through the accumulation of knowledge, skills, and human experience. The paper further shows that food does not depend only on responses to consumer demands or influences by multinational corporations, but also on food creators. b) Through this perspective we can also see a double-flow of transnational food workers. One is the flow of Italian pizzaiolos traveling to Japan to ply their trade and provide the cultural and human capital necessary to recreate Italian food in Japan (while coping with environmental differences and the use of non-traditional ingredients in craft pizza). The other is the flow of young Japanese traveling to Italy to learn how to make pizza and to build or reinforce their culinary knowledge. Upon returning to Japan they have acquired the necessary forms of capital (i.e., cultural, symbolic and institutionalized, as in the Bourdiean perspective) to enter Japan’s world of Italian restaurants. Acknowledgements I would like to extend my thanks to Professor David Wank and to Professor James Farrer in guiding my thoughts on this topic. Thanks also to the anonymous reviewer. I have not been able to incorporate all his valuable suggestions in this paper, but I will keep them in mind in the course of my research. Finally thanks to my Ph.D. colleagues for their comments, and to Ms Miwa Higashiura for organizing the conference out of which this paper came. My gratitude, as well, to the people who dedicated their precious time to the interviews. 269 Food Workers as Individual Agents of Culinary Globalization: Pizza and Pizzaioli in Japan References Ashkenazi, Michael, and Jeanne Jacob. 2000. The essence of Japanese cuisine: an essay on food and culture. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Benincasa, Gabriele. 1992. La pizza napoletana: mito, storia e poesia. Napoli: Alfredo Guida Editore. 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Tobin, Joseph J. 1994. Re-made in Japan: Everyday Life and Consumer Taste in a Changing Society. New Haven: Yale University Press. Verace Pizza Napoletana. 真のナポリピッツァ技術教本 (The veracious pizza of Napoli, craft book). 2007. Tokyo: Asahiya Shuppan. Whiting, Robert. 1999. Tokyo underworld: the fast times and hard life of an American gangster in Japan. New York: Pantheon Books. 270 Part 3: Mobile Producers Chapter 16 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization Shoko Imai Copyright © 2010 by Shoko Imai All rights reserved 271 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Introduction The rising popularity of Japanese food over the world, especially since the 1970s, has been remarkable, and more recently the case of chef Nobuyuki Matsuhisa stands out as an example of Japan’s continuing culinary influence. Nobuyuki Matsuhisa is famous worldwide in very specific ways, and has been immensely successful in presenting his new-style Japanese cuisine. He runs his restaurant business through several branches, mainly in the major cities of the world such as New York, London, Tokyo, and Los Angeles. In this paper, I will explore the cultural and social elements of the worldwide popularity of Chef Matsuhisa with a focus on the geographical perspective, or globalization of Japanese cuisine. Overall, I want to analyze Chef Matsuhisa as an individual of influence in what might be categorized as the new Japanese food rather than just reveal his story in the context of the recent boom of Japanese food taking place in the world. I argue that Nobu’s case is particularly significant in the context of the popularity of Japanese cuisine for two main reasons: first, his approach to cooking, “Nobustyle” is based on both his training as a sushi chef in Japan and his wide experience in various locations in South and North America, the resulting influences of which characterize his cuisine as indeed a form of Americanized Japanese food. Second, the locations of his restaurants in major cities in the United States and elsewhere around the world deserve attention. His main Nobu restaurants exist in major world cities, such as New York, Los Angeles, London, and Tokyo. These world cities exist as nodes in a global space of flow and interaction between people, materials, and information. Nobu has established his own culinary network at these world city nodes, and it is in relation to this global world-city geography that he has created a sense of authenticity for his dishes. Nobu’s cooking style is very different from those discussed in many case studies of ethnic foods, such as Donna Gabaccia’s studies of food culture aimed at exploring the relationship between the ethnicity and the food culture of particular ethnic groups in the United States (Gabaccia 1998; Brown and Mussell 1985; Kraut 1979; Lockwood 1991). Accordingly, in order to explore his specific case, it is necessary to adopt a different perspective, especially in terms of authenticity. I would like to outline his case using two key concepts: first, world city networks and second, authenticity. When we think of his case in the context of globalization, which is often understood as a large-scale process that eventually has a top-down impact on individuals and localities, the case of Nobu and his establishment reveals a personality-centered 272 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization culinary network that shows how globalization can also emerge simultaneously in a complementary bottom-up direction. Further, in the context of authenticity, in dealing with Nobu’s foods, we are dealing with an agent-based authenticity, in which the agents (including their activities and materials) are individuals rather than local or place-based authenticities. With the familiar, Americanized, flavor of his Japanese dishes and spread of his network, he has contributed to the diffusion and recognition of Japanese food around the world, a trend which can be described as a specific case of the globalization of Japanese culinary culture. Who is Nobu? Why is Nobu so unique and interesting? We can find some clues in his first cookbook, Nobu: The Cookbook, which begins with a detailed biography. Also his websites introduce his interesting personal story.2 According to these sources, Nobuyuki Matsuhisa, commonly known as “Nobu,” was born in 1949 and grew up in Saitama, Japan. After finishing high school, he was trained as a sushi chef in Matsuei Sushi in Shinjuku, Tokyo. While an apprentice, he always had the idea in his mind that he would work in foreign countries at some point, an idea inspired by his father’s well-travelled life. After completing his seven years of training in 1973, he grabbed the chance to work as a sushi chef in Lima, Peru and then worked in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The experience of working in South America for three years was crucial to his later success as a chef in the United States in many ways. Things did not go well initially, however, because his very first restaurant in Anchorage, Alaska burned down, and so he had to start all over again. Finally in 1987, after many years of struggle he opened his Matsuhisa restaurant in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles and eventually achieved enormous success. It was this restaurant that provided the base for his subsequent worldwide expansion. Gradually, the restaurant started to attract a clientele of Hollywood movie stars who became regular customers, and this connection with celebrities was to become a very important key to his later success. When Hollywood actor Robert De Niro visited the restaurant and tried Nobu’s cooking he became a committed fan, suggesting to Nobu that together they start a restaurant business in New York. Though it took a while for Nobu to accept his offer, they eventually opened Nobu New York in the Tribeca district in 1994, and thereafter De Niro continued to be his business partner in the opening of other Nobu restaurants. Eventually the business expanded overseas with such restaurants as Nobu London, which opened in 1997, and Nobu Tokyo, which opened in 1998. Nobu gradually expanded his business to the point where, as of March 2009, he is running more than twenty restaurants 2. For instance, see, http://www.nobumatsuhisa.com/ (accessed Mar. 31, 2009). 273 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region around the world (see Figure 1).3 He manages twelve branches across North America and other restaurants in major cities of the world, such as in Milan, Hong Kong, and Melbourne, and restaurants on Mikonos Island in Greece and in the Bahamas. In addition, Nobu has received many awards and has been recognized in many popularity votes (Matsuhisa 2004a, 252).4 As we can see from these examples, he is much admired among the media and people in general, especially in the United States and the United Kingdom. Figure1: The locations of Nobu’s restaurants as of March, 2009. This illustration was modified by the author from the website with permission, http://www.noburestaurants.com/ (accessed March 31, 2009) 3. The twenty two restaurants are, in order, Matsuhisa (Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, 1987), Nobu New York (Tribeca, New York, 1994), Nobu London (Hotel Metropolitan, 1997), Matsuhisa Aspen (Aspen, Colorado, 1998), Nobu Next Door (Tribeca, New York, 1998), Nobu Tokyo (Aoyama, 1998 and moved to Toranomon in 2007), Nobu Las Vegas (The Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, 1999), Nobu Malibu (Malibu Beach, 1999), Nobu Milano (Armani, 2000), Nobu Miami (South Beach, 2001), Matsuhisa Mikonos (Mikonos Island, Greece, 2005), Nobu Dallas (Crescent Court, 2005), Nobu Fifty Seven (57th Street, New York, 2005), Nobu Berkeley St (London, 2005), Nobu Atlantis (Paradise Island Bahamas, 2006), Nobu Intercontinental Hong Kong (Hong Kong, 2006), Nobu Waikiki (Honolulu, Hawaii, 2007), Nobu Melbourne (Australia, 2007), Nobu San Diego (California, 2007), Nobu Los Angeles (West Hollywood, 2008), Nobu Atlantis (Palm Jumeirah Dubai, UAE, 2008) and Matsuhisa Athens (Greece, 2009). Nobu Paris opened in 2001 but closed in 2003. Ubon by Nobu (Canary Wharf, London, 2000) has closed as well. The difference between the restaurant names, Matsuhisa and Nobu, is that the Matsuhisa restaurants are wholly owned by himself. 4. In 1998, the Los Angeles Times Magazine included him as one of Southern California’s rising stars among the chefs in America. In 1993, the New York Times chose Matsuhisa as one of the Top 10 restaurant destinations of the world, which was before Nobu opened his first restaurant in New York in 1994. Up to the present he has kept his position as one of the most popular chefs in the United States according to a national restaurant survey in the Zagat Survey magazine, which is equivalent to the influential French gourmet magazine, Michelin. He was also selected as one of the 10 best chefs in America by Food and Wine magazine; for more information about his awards and nominations, refer to the Myriad Restaurant Group’s web site. http://www.myriadrestaurantgroup.com/Restaurants/nobu/Nobu%20Main.htm. 274 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization Along with his work as a chef, Nobu has written several cookbooks, beginning in 2001 with his publication, Nobu: The Cookbook, which was then translated from English to Japanese and released in 2003. So far, this work can be called his lifetime masterpiece as a Japanese chef, which includes his biography along with his original and very popular recipes served in his restaurants. His cooking style is, so to speak, nouveau Japanese cuisine, which he defines as “Nobu-style.” In his own words, this is a style “firmly based on Japanese cooking—fundamentally sushi—but with North and South American influences.” He also explains, “My intention has always been to draw on the very best of Japanese cooking in my own individual style.” Therefore Nobu-style, he concludes, is “all about bringing out the best in the freshest seafood and drawing out the natural sweetness and textures of vegetables” (Matsuhisa 2001, 10). According to the publisher, this book has received high honors from readers ranging from amateur audiences to professional chefs, and more than 80 thousand copies have been sold worldwide, not only in America and Britain, but also in the Netherlands and Korea.5 Thanks to this cookbook, he and his dishes have drawn even more attention, not only from people who have been to his restaurants, but also from people around the world who know about his book.6 Following this publication, another cookbook, entitled Nobu (in Japanese) was released in 2004 along with an English version, entitled Nobu Now. Then came the idea of co-authoring a Japanese book on Japanese-style finger food from the kitchen of Nobu Tokyo, with the head chefs at his various restaurants, which was published in 2006. This was followed by Nobu West from the Nobu London restaurant in 2006, and which Nobu Miami: The Party Cookbook was published in 2008. How might we sum up the whole phenomenon of this successful chef and businessman? What kind of perspective or framework would be effective in his case? Obviously, we would need to consider Nobu in the context of changes in perceptions of Japan and Japanese culture from the beginning of the migration at the end of 19th century, to the period of the Second World War, and to the present. With the rise of Japan’s economic power after WWII, Nobu’s case could be seen as one example of the rising worldwide popularity of Japanese food, associated with the spread of other elements of Japanese popular culture, such as electric devices and appliances, movies and cartoons, and fashion (Cwiertka 2001). Another important factor would be the healthy image of Japanese food, especially sushi, that has developed among Americans (Koyama and Ishige 1985). Yet, it is clear that in Nobu’s case there are geographical factors that contribute to his uniqueness. His cooking 5. I referred to the editorial reviews on the web site, Amazon.co.jp (accessed on Aug. 26, 2004). Updated information was left out when accessed 15 Jan, 2009. 6. According to the site mentioned in note 5 above, this cookbook was nominated for Best Food Photography by the James Beard Foundation in 2002. 275 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region style is very creative and full of novelty based on his experiences in countries where he has worked. Also, the way of running his restaurants and his culinary works of art deserve particular attention, not only because his worldwide success tells us a great deal about the diverse food cultures we enjoy today, but also because it can open up new approaches to the complex interactive processes of globalization. Therefore, I would like to analyze the Nobu phenomenon by looking at his life as a chef, his enthusiasm towards cooking, and the philosophy in his work, while exploring the characteristics of his restaurants and his cookbooks. Nobu restaurants and their location in world cities Focusing on the locations of Nobu’s restaurants, we find his branches primarily in the kinds of large cities that are often described as “world cities,” such as Los Angeles, New York, London, Tokyo, Milan, and Miami. In this section, I would like to think about the location of Nobu’s restaurants from geographical perspectives. In fact, while there has been a lot of research on world cities, these studies tend to emphasize the economic and political power or influences that world cities have on the rest of the world. It is true that many of these studies mention in passing that there are also cultural phenomena associated with world city status; however there have been relatively few studies, so far, concentrating on the cultural impact of globalization and world cities (King 1995). Nonetheless, the notion of world cities can also be applied productively to cultural issues, such as food. The food industry, supported by enormous flows of money, human output, information, and materials such as food items, has established networks with world cities as centers of distribution—in other words, as the nodes of the networks. Chef Matsuhisa’s culinary artworks are worth studying as a representative study of the cultural impact of globalization and world cities, because his method of entrepreneurship shows how his food networks function throughout the world. He has created a kind of a network with key world cities functioning as the nodes of the network, in order to maintain his business as a constant flow of food ingredients, people (including staff and customers), and information (i.e., flavors and cooking methods). I would like to look at the flows in more detail later. The world city theory has been a topic of discussion among geographers and economists since the publication of John Friedmann’s article, “The World City Hypothesis” (Friedmann 1986). Saskia Sassen, focusing on three major global cities, New York, London and Tokyo, describes these three metropolitan cities as the centers of command of the world economy, which together control the structure of whole global societies, and which function as the financial market-places for the buying and selling of securities and as the places offering financial and producer service 276 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization industries (Sassen 1991).7 The common characteristics of world cities are their scale, the density of their populations, their function as centers of finance and as information or distribution systems for the nation or the world, as well as the fact that they act as sites for the emergence of a “new social aesthetic in everyday living” (ibid., 335). At the same time, cities cannot be simply defined as fixed places, especially when we think about their characteristic openness from a “relational perspective” (Pryke 1999, 322).8 A city is an intangible system and it is difficult to draw lines showing where it starts and ends, because cities are “caught in so many relational webs of one sort or another,” and are “subject to so many changing flows and influences” (Amin and Graham 1999, 35). Manuel Castells extends this argument to world cities, discussing the notion of network spaces. It is important to note that he sees the global city not as a place but as a process. Moreover, according to Castells’ definition, space is “the material support of time-sharing social practices.” Therefore, the space of flows is “the material organization of time-sharing social practices that work through flows” (2000, 411-2).9 His network analysis of the world city system suggests a new path in understanding the complicated structures of the world economy between cities based on Sassen’s idea of three major cities as centers for “coordination and control” (in Smith and Timberlake 1995). In a similar way, a number of geographers have constructed a typology of inter-city linkages based upon the form (human, material, and information) and function (economic, political, cultural and social) of flows (Taylor 2000).10 Taking up the notion of a space of flows, network linkages and globalization, some research has focused on the role of world cities as the distribution centers of the food industry, looking at the circulation of food items and so on. Of course the cultural practice of dining out at restaurants also happens in world cities. Geographers David Bell and Gill Valentine attempt to approach food events in terms of consumption, adopting the geographical spatial scales, body-home-community-city-region-nationglobal, to explore the social and cultural theory of eating and food (1997). Particularly in the case of the food industry, information (food culture and techniques), goods (food items and ingredients) and people (cooks and customers) are moving around the networks through the nodes of the world cities on our globe today. The topics of those studies cover not only such brands as Coca-Cola or McDonald’s, but also the 7. She argues that the characteristics of global cities can be seen in these three cities; however different or however similar they are mostly in terms of economic system and structures. 8. Pryke mentions that cities are open systems and “are collections of processes that are formed and reformed through a host of interconnections, which is, after all, a direct reflection of their openness.” 9. The original text is written in bold type by Castells. 10. There is a study group called “the Globalization and World Cities (GaWC) Research Network,” whose purpose is to explore the external relations of world cities (centered at Loughborough University). 277 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region wider scenes of human food culture in the context of globalization and networks (Ritzer 1993; Watson 1997; Wagnleiter 1994). For example, Sharon Zukin has conducted an empirical study of the restaurant workforce in New York City viewing the restaurant as a localized site of transnational economic and cultural flows with a focus on the structures of both employees and clientele groups (1992). Theodore Bestor has conducted elaborate research on how the fishing industry has developed, with Tsukiji (Tokyo) at its center. He focuses on blue fin tuna and its distribution system and related networks as a case study of globalization (2000; 2004). Ian Cook and Philip Crang discuss culinary globalization through case studies of Japanese food in the UK, particularly in relation to the concepts of commodity and authentication, and in terms of interaction between food providers and consumers (2001). In discussing how world city theory works in terms of Matsuhisa Nobuyuki’s culinary practices, I would first like to show the flows of the products and ingredients that are used in Nobu’s restaurants and the places from where those materials come. To begin with, his restaurants obtain rock shrimp, soft-shell crabs, and Kumamoto oysters from the U.S. Pacific coast, and snow crab and king crab from Alaska.11 Tiger prawns come from Australia and Thailand. Kuruma shrimp, sea urchin and octopus are from Japan, and black cod and Chilean sea bass are from Chile (Matsuhisa 2003, 68).12 These are very important items that distinguish the high quality of Nobu’s dishes.13 We can assume that a variety of import-transport networks exist to maintain the high quality of Nobu’s food, which can change, depending on the season and other situations. These networks could be seen as a space of flows, involving the constant movement of food items. There are also other important flow factors that establish his network including information and human resources, which I will discuss in the next section. 11. According to Chef Kaneko in an interview by the author, Oct.8, 2004, the sources of Kumamoto oysters are in Japan; they are cultivated in a farm off the coast of Washington state. The crabs are the core ingredients in Nobu’s popular dishes, such as soft-shell crab roll (Matsuhisa 2001, 160-1). 12. Nobu mentions octopus only in his Japanese-translation cookbook in the sense that since it is very difficult to purchase raw octopus so he imports fresh from Hokkaidako, Japan to serve in Los Angeles and New York. High-quality and expensive ingredients such as shark’s fins must be imported from China; foie gras and truffles from France; caviar from Iran. Chef Kaneko, who works at Nobu New York, mentioned that freshwater eels and red snappers are also imported from Japan to New York. This and similar information on the sources of ingredients was acquired through personal inquiries at Nobu’s restaurants and with the staff. 13. As for alcohol, Nobu exclusively imports sake from one company, Hokusetsu in Sado Island (Niigata prefecture). Now he even puts his original labels on the bottles served in the restaurants. 278 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization Nobu-style and its construction Because Chef Nobuyuki Matsuhisa distinguishes his own cooking style as “Nobustyle,” I would like to take a look at his technique more in detail, taking some examples from his cookbook. His new style Japanese food is based on the traditional Japanese food customs that he grew up with and to which he was apprenticed. At the same time, however, he uses a variety of spices, sauces and ingredients learned from his working experiences in Latin America in association with western ways of cooking he came to accept while working in the U.S. and Europe. When considering the recipes and dishes Nobu has adopted in terms of flavors, ingredients, and cooking methods, the main influence seems to be primarily from Peru where he spent about two and a half years. He uses many ingredients, spices and herbs adapted from local, homemade cooking methods that he learned while working there. For example, he uses several flavors of chili, lemon, and cilantro, all of which appear in his signature dishes, such as Ceviche, Anticucho, and Tiradito.14 Ceviche is popular in Latin America and somewhat similar to Japanese sashimi, using fresh fish mixed with a spicy-sour sauce made of cilantro, onion and lemon juice. He also introduces this dish to readers as his favorite dish among the many that he Figure 2: Seafood Ceviche, Nobu-style. Photographed by Fumihiko Watanabe. Nobu: The Cookbook, 2001, 119. discovered in Peru (Mastuhisa 2001, 118; Figure 2). Additionally, he uses European flavors as an accent to make Nobu-style even more distinctive, particularly olive oil, grape seed oil, and balsamic vinegar. He has also created new forms of dishes such as squid pasta and risotto that originated in 14. Ceviche is “a typical Latin American dish believed to have originated in Peru” (Matsuhisa 2001, 118-9). Anticucho is “charcoal-grilled beef heart on a skewer,” after “being marinated in a red sauce and basted with oil during grilling, the meat is slathered with a yellow sauce and eaten with a salsa of choice,” (ibid., 79). Tiradito “differs from Ceviche in that it contains no onions. In the original South American dish, cut fish (tirar in Spanish) is “thrown’ into a bowl and mixed with ceviche seasonings” (ibid., 120). 279 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Italy15 and uses foie gras and truffles as French chefs do.16 As for desserts, he has employed special chefs since the opening of his first restaurants and these desserts are very westernized. Some examples include crèmes brûlées, parfait and ice cream, always accompanied, however, by a Japanese flavor or accent.17 And of course, he has also been influenced by American culinary preferences. He uses avocado as a symbol of California in all his sushi rolls,18 and he serves Kobe beef, lobsters, and oysters, all of which are familiar to, and popular among, Americans.19 In addition to these ingredients, he is always on the lookout for what dishes and flavors would be most acceptable to his American customers through continuous interactions with them. Here is an example—an anecdote extracted from his first cookbook—of how a “Nobu-style” dish Figure 3: New-style Sashimi. Photographed by Fumihiko Watanabe. Nobu: The Cookbook, 2001, 117. was constructed: One day, a Matsuhisa regular refused some white fish sashimi because she couldn’t eat raw fish. I wanted to somehow salvage the dish that I’d spent time slicing and arranging. A pan of heated olive oil in the kitchen inspired me. I drizzled the fish with ponzu [a Japanese flavoring sauce] and spooned over hot oil to cook it partially. I begged my customer to give it another try: She ended up eating every scrap of my first serving of New Style Sashimi. (Matsuhisa 2001, 116) This story is illustrated by an impressive photo that catches the moment of dropping hot olive oil over slices of raw fish and cooking it about half way (Ibid., 117, Figure 3). Other dishes to which this method has been applied include such seafood items as salmon, scallops and raw octopus, as well as Kobe beef and asparagus or tofu for vegetarians. Thus the Nobu-style use of hot oil is characteristic of many of the signature dishes at Nobu restaurants. 15. As for pasta, refer to ibid., 82-3; Soba-soba-soba Risotto is made of buckwheat seeds and Soba Risotto with blowfish, another example of risotto dishes that appear in his cookbook (ibid., 154-5). 16. As for foie gras, refer to the dish, “Freshwater Eel and Foie Gras,” ibid., 138-9; As for the dishes with truffles, see, for example, “Baby Octopus with Truffles and Yuzu Juice” (ibid., 72-3); “Chilean Sea Bass and Truffles with Yuzu” ; “Soy Butter Sauce” (ibid., 110-1); “Ginger and Truffle Brûlée” (ibid., 178); “Scallop Filo with Truffle Yuzu Sauce” (ibid., 33-4); and “Steamed Abalone with Mustard Sumiso Sauce and Junsai” (ibid., 28-9). 17. Refer to his dessert recipes (ibid., 177-80). 18. See his recipes for sushi rolls, “Soft Shell Crab Roll”; “House Roll”; “Salmon Skin Roll”; “Sea Eel Dragon Roll”; and sushi (ibid., 158-65). 19. “Oysters with Nobu’s Three Salsas” (Matsuhisa 2003, 38-39); “Spiny Lobster Soup” (ibid., 58-9); “Foie Gras and Kobe Beef Donburi” (ibid., 176-77). 280 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization This example is indicative of the highly favorable attitude people have towards the new and exotic Nobu dishes. Given the historical background that until after the Second World War Americans generally had negative images of Japanese people (for example, the Japanese were seen as “barbarians who eat raw fish”), this is an interesting outcome (Koyama and Ishige 1985, 182). Even today, foreigners trying Japanese food for the first time often find the consumption of raw fish, sashimi or sushi a special challenge in becoming familiar with Japanese food culture. Understanding this uneasiness towards Japanese food, Nobu effectively recalls the episode in which he changed the seemingly inedible raw fish into a delicious, halfcooked dish, by dripping the “magical” hot olive oil over it, a technique adopted through his work experience in America and which actually depends on ingredients familiar to Americans. Nobu also noticed that many Americans like the combination of soy sauce and wasabi, so he made new varieties of sauce, such as Wasabi Pepper Sauce.20 In these ways, his recipes accentuate his novelty and his attempt to transform the traditions of Japanese cuisine into a novel and creative “Nobu-style.” In short, Nobu has introduced a new way of Japanese cuisine to American people, which they have accepted as a trendy and sophisticated new style of Japanese cuisine. Nobu intentionally put the story of the invention of New Style Sashimi into his book in order to show that his exclusive and unique style of Japanese food, based on Japanese traditions but adopting Latin American and Western flavors at the same time, is a cuisine developed through interactions with his local customers. Putting it another way, his Japanese food can be described as a hybridized, or Westernized, Japanese food. Or, to reverse the emphasis, one might describe his food as AmericanizedJapanese food, which combines the influences of both Latin and North American culinary culture. Information about Nobu’s food-style and techniques continually circulates within his networks through Nobu and his staff. He trained all the employees of his first three restaurants (Matsuhisa, Nobu New York, and Nobu London) personally, and they eventually learned his methods of serving his customers as well as his philosophy by working and interacting with Nobu himself.21 This could be analyzed as the dissemination of an understanding of his goals among his employees, made in the process of duplicating Nobu. Taking as a whole the influences of flavor and ingredients imported from all over the world, along with his constantly moving lifestyle (he travels on a weekly basis to check his restaurants scattered around 20. Other kinds of sauce like Spicy Lemon Dressing and Matsuhisa Dressing are made with the similar ideas so as to be preferable among Americans. As for sauce, refer to the section of “Nobu Sauces and Basics” (Matsuhisa 2001, 168-74). 21. Interview by author. Oct.15, 2004. 281 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region the world), we can see how Nobu’s networks were constructed and continue to be maintained. This involves the flow of food items, his staff, and Nobu himself. This construction of networks has been a determining factor in Nobu’s worldwide success. The authenticity of Nobu’s food So far, the focus of this paper has been on presenting Nobu-style as an Americanized or hybridized Japanese food in the context of the network of his restaurant business in major world cities. This section moves on to engage with the important issue of authenticity as it applies to Nobu-style food. In general, the authenticity of ethnic foods seems to be somehow associated with a strong connection to an original place or region, where the ethnic food is supposed to be authentic. Geographers Ian Cook, Philip Crang, and Mark Thorpe mention in regard to the linking of authenticity and place in ethnic food that “in short, most [producers] claim that the right combination of key inputs—factory equipment, manufacturing techniques, ingredients, recipes and/or personnel—have been imported from the right parts of the world” (2000, 122). Lisa Heldke emphasizes the importance of how exotic the food seems for people enjoying eating ethnic food, in the sense of trying something different and seeking for novelty (2003, 17-22). That is, ethnic foods are supposed to have their origins in different regions of the world, use different ingredients, and be prepared by different people, all of which strengthens the sense of authenticity. In acknowledging that there are many kinds of ethnic foods, we show a strong feeling or consensus about the definition of our mainstream food, located in our ‘home’ place; for instance, while Japanese food in Japan is not ethnic, in America it falls into the category of ethnic food. In fact, the process of figuring out the authenticity of other food cultures could be seen as a process similar to that by which we recognize the identity of others and also our own. What we eat, how we eat, and how we feel about food reminds us of how we perceive ourselves in relation to others (Mintz 1986). At the same time, “a group’s eating habits is one clue to which side of the boundary the strangers should be placed” (Kalčik 1984, 47). However, Nobu’s cooking style, though based on his native knowledge of Japanese cooking, has been constructed through his experiences outside of Japan in response to the cooking and dietary customs and influences of North and South America (as well as his familiarity with other ethnic foods such as Italian, French and Chinese, encountered through his work and travels). Nobu himself described his way of cooking in an interview in this way: “We have to make [our food] close to local food, not completely separated,” indicating that he tries to use local ingredients as the local people do and to give his customers the feeling of comfort and of being at 282 Nobu and After: Westernized Japanese Food and Globalization home in each different location.22 Therefore, his food is served in different ways depending upon the location, even though all of the dishes—with variations—are considered as Nobu food with certain characteristics in common. In this sense, the notion of location in relation to the authenticity of Nobu’s food cannot be identified as originating from a certain place; rather it is unclear or unfixed, as if the origins of authenticity are floating within his worldwide food network. For instance, Nobu’s signature sole dish is served differently in London partly because he prepares it with the local Dover sole (Matsuhisa 2000, 123). Moreover, what makes it “Nobu food” is not just that he uses the same ingredients or follows the same recipes, but that he uses the fresh ingredients available locally. In fact, we can find many dishes using tropical ingredients in the Miami cookbook (Matsuhisa and Buckley 2008). As mentioned, Nobu himself travels all around the world throughout the year to visit his restaurants and to check regularly on the management of each restaurant, thus maintaining the taste and quality of his foods. His travels also provide opportunities to look for new tastes to add to the Nobu-style. Accordingly, Nobu’s cuisine does not have a particular local origin, and in a sense, Nobu himself is always unlocated. I would surmise that Nobu’s success and characteristics cannot be interpreted in the context of the usual ethnic food categories. Rather, I would like to conclude with the suggestion that Nobu’s continual movement within the network of his branch restaurants, as well as his creation of a Nobu-style, hybridized Japanese food, are the distinctive factors that affirm his authenticity. Regardless of its location there is a special quality to his cuisine that enables customers to recognize the restaurant as “Nobu.” Most of his restaurants are located in world cities and those cities function as the nodes of his networks. Although the restaurants are geographically separated, each one of the branches is connected to all of the others by the flow of people (his staff and Nobu himself), materials (food items), and information (his theory, philosophy about work, and flavors). His authenticity also depends on layers of other social networks made up of a myriad of customers, including celebrities and business people, and readers of his books, all of whom travel and move within the network, as well. This kind of authenticity can be interpreted as deriving from the aura of Nobu’s figure and performance.23 Nobu-style, with its key notion of not being located in one place, is effective in maintaining his authenticity worldwide within a single network, because it has the potential to expand and add newer factors as Nobu constantly travels around the world and looks for something different. 22. See the article published in 1999, “Asian Sensation.” Tycoon Magazine, Premier Issue. 23. This idea was inspired by Professor Krishnendu Ray at the Sophia University Symposium on February 21-22, 2009. As for the concept of the aura, see Walter Benjamin’s “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (2001), http://www-dev.dxarts.washington.edu/coupe/wk1/benjamin.pdf (accessed on Apr. 20, 2009), and Theodor Adorno, The Jargon of Authenticity, trans. Knut Tarnowski and Frederic Will (London: Routledge, 2006). 283 Globalization, Food and Social Identities in the Asia Pacific Region Conclusion In conclusion, the success of Chef Nobuyuki Matsuhisa, especially in the United States, gives us some interesting and very positive insights about the emergence of Japanese food. His practice has always been to look for some tastes that would be accepted and enjoyed among local people wherever he has worked. His food creations are based essentially on Japanese cuisine, accented by the flavors, ingredients, and cooking customs of South and North America acquired through his experiences of working in these countries. In this sense, his cooking-style can be described as Americanized Japanese food, since his discipline is Japanese while his style is a cross-section of North and South American influences. Based on his creation of Nobu-style, hybridized Japanese food, Nobu has developed and established a sense of authenticity for his dishes which in turn has contributed significantly and in very particular ways to the worldwide popularity of Japanese food. In fact, Nobu-style food can be understood as one distinctive form of the globalization of Japanese culinary culture, mediated through the experiences and business strategies of a single chef. Although this paper’s focus has not been on culinary globalization as such, my intention has been to show a detailed case study of Nobu’s culinary phenomenon. His case clearly has much to reveal about the cultural process of the globalization of Japanese food.24 In fact, one of Nobu’s recent anecdotes suggests an additional perspective on this matter of dissemination. In his latest cookbook, Nobu Miami: The Party Cookbook, Nobu recalls coming across some of his signature dishes, such as Soft Shell Crab Roll, and Yellowtail Sashimi with Jalapeño in a Cape Town, South Africa restaurant, commenting that “my first encounter with Nobu cuisine overseas came as a great surprise” (2008, 9). It is interesting that he refers to Cape Town as “overseas” in relation to other places where he already has been or where he owned restaurants at that time. Cape Town existed outside his own network of restaurants; it was somewhere he had never been before and a place where he did not expect to find any influences on, or connections with, the culinary network he had developed.25 Nonetheless, when he discovered “Nobu-style” cuisine outside his empire, he felt honored rather than upset at being copied, because it was a testament to his worldwide influence on other chefs and on the restaurant business in general. 24. As for the process of cultural globalization, some insightful researches have been conducted, for instance, see Roland Robertson’s “Social Theory, Cultural Relativity and the Problems of Globality,” in Culture, Globalization and the World-system, ed. Anthony D. King, 69-90 (Binghamton, NY: State University of New York, 1991); David Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989); and Arjun Appadurai, Modernity at Large (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996). 25. 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New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers. 286 Produced by Sophia University Institute of Comparative Culture https://www.icc-sophia.com/

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