Essay

Kaiseki and the four seasons

By Steve Ford

Here's a little quiz. The four seasons are:

A. A prehistoric pop group featuring Frankie Valli

B. Four violin concertos by Vivaldi

C. Key to understanding Japanese culture

D. All of the above

It's unanimous then, D is the right answer. But let's have a quick look at the seasons in Japan. Anyone living in Japan for any length of time will have heard or read that it has four seasons. If we count the rainy season, that makes five, but unless one happens to be a species of mold or a farmer, it is a season that holds little joy. So four will be fine, thanks.

Spring calls our attention to the ethereal beauty of the cherry blossoms. Would it really be summer in Japan without fireworks, fans and pretty girls wrapped in bright yukata? As things cool off, autumn brings strolls among brilliant crimson leaves and moon-viewing through susuki pampas grass. Winter has its own charms, and almost everyone greets the New Year with a visit to a shrine or temple and noshes on all sorts of symbolism-loaded foods such as osechi ryori to ensure luck and prosperity in the coming year.

As a former chef and natural-born glutton, it is the deep connection between Japanese food and the seasons that gets my attention. Nowhere is this connection between seasons and cooking stronger than in kaiseki; one of the most refined and elevated cuisines on the planet. When asked to define kaiseki, Chef Yoshihiro Murata, owner of kaiseki restaurants in Tokyo and Kyoto, often answers: "It is eating the seasons." That really is the essence of kaiseki, but more precisely, it is an elegant style of cooking descended from snacks that were served to ward off hunger during the tea ceremony.

These days kaiseki restaurants serve 10 or more small, elegant courses made from the finest obtainable ingredients, prepared at their peak of flavor. The foods are served on dishes, or arranged in ways that cue the diners to the season. In early fall, grilled ayu (sweetfish) might be served on a round plate — the shape of the plate and the plumpness of the roe-filled fish acting as a double allusion to the moon.

In spring, a few slices of vegetables cut in the shape of cherry blossoms might float languidly in a bowl of clear soup adding an element of emotion that lets the food resonate on many different levels.

All this seasonal perfection and attention to detail doesn't come cheap. A full kaiseki meal starts at ¥15,000 and can cost more than ¥50,000. That's a little over budget for me these days. I guess I'll be getting my seasonal jollies at the local convenience store, I hear they have yuzu-flavored potato chips, and chestnut Kit Kats this time of year.

Shukan ST: Nov. 7, 2008

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