By Dereck Foster, for the Herald.

Suddenly Japanese cuisine is becoming the new fashion locally. It is true that we have had Japanese restaurants in BA for quite some time — Dashi, Yuki, Irifune, Jardín Japonés, among others — and sushi has infiltrated our menus to such a degree that it has almost ruined the pristine image that this morsel should have, but Japanese cuisine as such has never really been a leading light on most local tables.

However, with the sudden surge of top Peruvian restaurants bursting onto our local culinary stage, grasping Japanese influences firmly by the hand, the image of Japan has suddenly began to change.

It is a curious situation, taking into consideration the strong Chinese influence Chinese food has  stamped on typical Peruvian cuisine — Lima, at least — because it is hard to imagine how this fusion came about or how it will continue. But the word is now going out that Japanese food is more than sushi, although sushi is still about the only popular Japanese dish that most people can recall without having to dip into a food dictionary. This creates another curious situation, because although sushi is regarded as a sort of icon of Japanese cuisine, it is far from being that to anybody — Japanese or not —who takes Japanese food seriously. The true mark of true, authentic Japanese food is soup.

A traditional Japanese chef works encumbered by a number of demands, one of which is the necessity of using ingredients that are at their seasonal peak. Absolute freshness is a must in a Japanese kitchen. This not only restricts him in a seasonal way but it also prohibits (with very few exceptions)  him from using any but local produce. One wonders, therefore, how close to authentic  Japanese cuisine we can find in Buenos Aires, so distanced from such a high proportion of essential ingredients that any self-respecting chef will demand.

“There are two test pieces of Japanese cuisine, which determine  the criteria by which a Japanese meal rises or falls,”  says Shizuo Tsuji, considered the fines Japanese cook of all times, and whose book Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art is the bible of cooks around the world. (Tsuji is also an outstanding master of French cuisine). According to Tsuji, the soup and raw fish are so important that all else can be considered as mere garnishes. The latter indicates to what degree the cook attaches importance to the freshness of the ingredients he is using, but what about the soup?

A true Japanese soup is, in the words of  Jeffrey Steingarten, “a summing up of the Japanese concept of  umami, of savouriness, meatiness, mouthwateringness, the bliss point of any food.” Our Western culture maintains that there are four basic tastes, but the Japanese consider that umami constitutes a fifth. The main component of the soup is dashi, a combination of dried fish, seaweed and much else which, to be authentic, is made fresh just before using. But today, both within and outside Japan, can be bought as a dry powder, even though the fresh version can be made in less than fifteen minutes.

The next time you sit down to a Japanese meal, do not ignore the covered bowl of hot soup that will be served; or set it aside to cool. Treat it as you would caviar or truffles in a Western restaurant. This is what true Japanese food, and its real flavour, is all about.