Some years ago, I was perusing The Cook’s Book, a cookbook
edited by Jill Norman (one of my favorite culinary writers). It’s a roundup
collection of recipes by various famed chefs of the time. The chapter on
Japanese cooking was written by chef Hisayuki Takeuchi, a Japanese chef
specializing in kaiseki cooking living in Paris. His description of an autumn
menu captivated me in an unusual way.
edited by Jill Norman (one of my favorite culinary writers). It’s a roundup
collection of recipes by various famed chefs of the time. The chapter on
Japanese cooking was written by chef Hisayuki Takeuchi, a Japanese chef
specializing in kaiseki cooking living in Paris. His description of an autumn
menu captivated me in an unusual way.
Kaiseki is a type of formal multi-course Japanese meal that
conveys the sense of seasons along with a rule of including five techniques,
five flavors, and five colors woven into each course. This use of the number
five represents the five elements of Chinese energy theory; wood, fire, earth
metal and water.
conveys the sense of seasons along with a rule of including five techniques,
five flavors, and five colors woven into each course. This use of the number
five represents the five elements of Chinese energy theory; wood, fire, earth
metal and water.
As Takeuchi says, “Yin and yang are the profound secrets of
this energy theory. Cooking is an art in its own right. It flourishes by
delving deep into the traditions of the land and is constantly refreshed by
artistic activity”.
this energy theory. Cooking is an art in its own right. It flourishes by
delving deep into the traditions of the land and is constantly refreshed by
artistic activity”.
Takeuchi included a menu in his section of the cookbook inspired
by a poem written by Nakahara Chūya (1907-37). The poem, entitled Kikyō (Homecoming), brought to mind the taste
of figs and yuzu, the beginning of autumn, and the wind. Takeuchi wanted to
craft a menu imbued with nostalgia for home and nature. Here’s the poem and the
menu it inspired.
by a poem written by Nakahara Chūya (1907-37). The poem, entitled Kikyō (Homecoming), brought to mind the taste
of figs and yuzu, the beginning of autumn, and the wind. Takeuchi wanted to
craft a menu imbued with nostalgia for home and nature. Here’s the poem and the
menu it inspired.
Homecoming
The posts and garden are all dried out;
The weather’s fine today
Under the floor a
spider’s web
spider’s web
Is forlornly
trembling.
trembling.
In the mountains even the dead trees
breathe;
ah, the weather’s fine today.
The roadside
grasses’ shadows
grasses’ shadows
Innocently sorrow.
This is my old home;
Even a breeze is blowing.
Go on, cry with an
open heart,
open heart,
a matron’s low
voice says.
voice says.
Oh child, what have you done?
— veering, the wind says to me.
~Nakahara Chūya
Kaiseki Menu
Confession
Red miso soup with clams and sanshō
Wind
Salmon carpaccio with yuzu
Path
Shrimp tempura with beer
“The ghost was playing
the piano”
the piano”
Classic nigiri sushi
Night
Duck breast with star anise sauce and roasted figs
Milky Way
Left Bank sushi with yellow papaya
The poem and menu made such an impression, I wanted to know
more about the chef and poet. I read
about Nakahara Chūya’s tragic life. Not particularly recognized as a poet in
his lifetime, he died when he was 30. He left behind two books of poetry and
dozens of uncollected poems.
more about the chef and poet. I read
about Nakahara Chūya’s tragic life. Not particularly recognized as a poet in
his lifetime, he died when he was 30. He left behind two books of poetry and
dozens of uncollected poems.
I learned that French symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud had
greatly influenced Chūya, and so I was on to my next discovery. Rimbaud’s
writing (1854-1891), at times a little dark for me, nevertheless carried themes
of the natural world and engaging tales of the traveler. Rimbaud wrote with
that restless angst of youth and I can imagine how Chūya might find a
particular soulfulness there.
greatly influenced Chūya, and so I was on to my next discovery. Rimbaud’s
writing (1854-1891), at times a little dark for me, nevertheless carried themes
of the natural world and engaging tales of the traveler. Rimbaud wrote with
that restless angst of youth and I can imagine how Chūya might find a
particular soulfulness there.
“I began it as an investigation. I turned silences and
nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling
world stand still.”
nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling
world stand still.”
And, from the edgy darkness of Rimbaud I found my way to
Marguerite Duras, Patricia Highsmith, and a bookshelf of other authors I surely
would have never known. And, simultaneously, through the idea of a Japanese
dish paired with a Japanese poem, I discovered haiku.
Marguerite Duras, Patricia Highsmith, and a bookshelf of other authors I surely
would have never known. And, simultaneously, through the idea of a Japanese
dish paired with a Japanese poem, I discovered haiku.
49 Writers periodically offers classes in haiku, and I know many
of us are well versed in this traditional form of Japanese poetry, so I won’t
get in too far over my head here. But, one variant of haiku, called haibun, became
an obsession.
of us are well versed in this traditional form of Japanese poetry, so I won’t
get in too far over my head here. But, one variant of haiku, called haibun, became
an obsession.
Haibun has been a form of poetry used since the 17’Th Century
in Japan, first taught by Matsuo Bashō, the most famous poet of the Edo period.
The format of haibun is to include paragraphs of poetic prose about travel,
autobiography or a dream story accompanied by haiku. Throw in modern day art
and photos and it sounds a lot like a blog to me. There is modern haibun happening all around
us.
in Japan, first taught by Matsuo Bashō, the most famous poet of the Edo period.
The format of haibun is to include paragraphs of poetic prose about travel,
autobiography or a dream story accompanied by haiku. Throw in modern day art
and photos and it sounds a lot like a blog to me. There is modern haibun happening all around
us.
I became immersed in the world of haiku, haibun, art, words,
nature, five colors, five flavors, five techniques… these ideas were swirling
around my head, in my life, influencing my cooking and informing my writing—and,
all because I read a line of poetry accompanying a recipe in a cookbook.
nature, five colors, five flavors, five techniques… these ideas were swirling
around my head, in my life, influencing my cooking and informing my writing—and,
all because I read a line of poetry accompanying a recipe in a cookbook.
In many
ways, I view recipes as poems. They are stories and legacies, secrets and
treasures. They are a hot chef’s ticket to fame, a new cook’s first hesitant effort.
Recipes are more than lists of ingredients. Sometimes they might just lead you
down a path of discovery far beyond the simple act of cooking.
ways, I view recipes as poems. They are stories and legacies, secrets and
treasures. They are a hot chef’s ticket to fame, a new cook’s first hesitant effort.
Recipes are more than lists of ingredients. Sometimes they might just lead you
down a path of discovery far beyond the simple act of cooking.
Kirsten Dixon owns two remote wilderness lodges in Alaska. She is the author of The Winterlake Lodge Cookbook: Culinary Adventures in the Wilderness and co-author of the Tutka Bay Lodge Cookbook: Coastal Cuisine from the Wilds of Alaska. She co-owns the La Baleine Café with her daughter Mandy. She likes to know what other people are reading and uses every opportunity to find out. Her email is Kirsten@withinthewild.com.
Looking forward to reading your haibun, Kirsten. Christine Byle has taught this at the Kachemak Bay conference, and I've taken a class, and have been doing some with my MFA program. I liked your linked recipes and Japanese poetry — poetry and cooking require some of the same skills, which you have in plenty.
Thanks!
Really interesting, Kirsten!