Traditional Foods Need not be Delicious to be Celebratory
The announcement from the police department is as idiosyncratically Japanese as any announcement can be. In a short message relayed by multiple TV stations and across social media, Japanese authorities warn the country's seniors to be careful when eating the traditional rice cakes for new years, as the sticky substance has led to more than one instance of the elderly choking and then die from suffocation as the stuff gets stuck in the throat. In all seriousness, the police advised that seniors ought to make sure they cut their rice cakes into small pieces and chew many times before attempting to swallow.
The tradition of eating rice cakes for the new year is so ingrained in Japan that the police dares not put forth a much simpler and effective solution: just advise seniors from eating any in the first place. Indeed, had the police actually told people to not eat their rice cakes, a public uproar would certainly ensue. The traditional Japanese new year's meal, of rice cakes, fishcakes, egg rolls, boiled beans, among other goodies, are each infused with spiritual meaning that all point to good fortune for those eating them, so foregoing the treats would be a bad omen for the year to come, even if the act of eating itself is fraught with risks to health.
And the fact that people continue to choose crowd into markets days before to prepare and then eat such a simple meal, passed down the generations, despite being able to afford much more luxurious and celebratory meals to bring in the new year, so that, more often than not, when tradition beckons, the taste of the food is not the most important factor. Just like people lining up for hours to pray at the most popular temples and shrines at the stroke of midnight, indulging in the food of the ancestors, no matter what the risks, continue to define traditional holidays, the most celebrated of which remains the new years.
Of course, maintaining traditions is not the only reason that people will forego the best taste. Another tradition in Japan involves buying the first batch of Beaujolais nouveau red wine directly imported from France. Having heard of the decades-old tradition in the past, I was flabbergasted by simply how horrible the wine tastes, especially compared to many of the readily available alternatives. Yet, the "first batch of the year" marketing gimmick of the Beaujolais vineyards eager to sell the subpar wines won the hearts of a Japanese audience obsessed with the first catch (of fish), so the tradition stuck.
Here, the idea of eating the freshest available transcends the idea of good taste. For both seafood and wine, the freshest supposedly represents the hardest to get, and arouse the desire to spend among the peer-conscious Japanese audience. The ability to buy before everyone else represents both the ability to secure information on the items before others and the sheer speed of getting one's hands on a limited number of items. That combination of information gathering and speed shows that one is intelligent and aggressive, perhaps a sign of great skill even in the workplace. In showing that skill, the taste of the items really does not matter.
Just as important as indirectly displaying skill useful in the workplace is a show of social status in the form of cosmopolitanism. In the past decades, that cosmopolitanism has become intertwined with the idea of Westernization. The most obvious food example in Japan is the consumption of fried chicken and strawberry shortcakes on Christmas day. Like Beaujolais vineyards, Kentucky Fried Chicken found its marketing gimmick striking a chord with the Japanese audience from decades past eager to embrace foreign traditions and foods as a display of sophistication. The fried chicken tradition is stuck, despite increasing health concerns with fried foods.
Rice cakes, Beaujolais wine, or fried chicken all show that foods that are centerpieces of both old and new traditions do not necessarily represent the tastiest and healthiest option available to a wealthy populace. In fact, each case harks back to a time when people were poorer, so could not afford fancy meals, and were more ignorant about the outside world, so easily fell victims to clever marketing campaigns used to sell substandard food items from the West. But after decades or centuries of eating the same thing at the same time of the year, people no longer question the wisdom behind eating such foods but simply see the foods as part of the tradition.
Traditions are, after all, manmade, and quite frequently, even the non-food aspects of some traditions do not make sense if thought through logically. But given that traditions are what define a certain group of people, modern-day guardians of the tradition do not dare to undermine the tradition in any way. That blind need to maintain traditions is particularly visible in Japan, where very identity of what makes one Japanese often rest on observation of certain traditional practices. Just as the police do not dare tell old people to stop eating rice cakes for new years, people do not dare to give up traditional foods, even if they do not taste good and are bad for health.
The tradition of eating rice cakes for the new year is so ingrained in Japan that the police dares not put forth a much simpler and effective solution: just advise seniors from eating any in the first place. Indeed, had the police actually told people to not eat their rice cakes, a public uproar would certainly ensue. The traditional Japanese new year's meal, of rice cakes, fishcakes, egg rolls, boiled beans, among other goodies, are each infused with spiritual meaning that all point to good fortune for those eating them, so foregoing the treats would be a bad omen for the year to come, even if the act of eating itself is fraught with risks to health.
And the fact that people continue to choose crowd into markets days before to prepare and then eat such a simple meal, passed down the generations, despite being able to afford much more luxurious and celebratory meals to bring in the new year, so that, more often than not, when tradition beckons, the taste of the food is not the most important factor. Just like people lining up for hours to pray at the most popular temples and shrines at the stroke of midnight, indulging in the food of the ancestors, no matter what the risks, continue to define traditional holidays, the most celebrated of which remains the new years.
Of course, maintaining traditions is not the only reason that people will forego the best taste. Another tradition in Japan involves buying the first batch of Beaujolais nouveau red wine directly imported from France. Having heard of the decades-old tradition in the past, I was flabbergasted by simply how horrible the wine tastes, especially compared to many of the readily available alternatives. Yet, the "first batch of the year" marketing gimmick of the Beaujolais vineyards eager to sell the subpar wines won the hearts of a Japanese audience obsessed with the first catch (of fish), so the tradition stuck.
Here, the idea of eating the freshest available transcends the idea of good taste. For both seafood and wine, the freshest supposedly represents the hardest to get, and arouse the desire to spend among the peer-conscious Japanese audience. The ability to buy before everyone else represents both the ability to secure information on the items before others and the sheer speed of getting one's hands on a limited number of items. That combination of information gathering and speed shows that one is intelligent and aggressive, perhaps a sign of great skill even in the workplace. In showing that skill, the taste of the items really does not matter.
Just as important as indirectly displaying skill useful in the workplace is a show of social status in the form of cosmopolitanism. In the past decades, that cosmopolitanism has become intertwined with the idea of Westernization. The most obvious food example in Japan is the consumption of fried chicken and strawberry shortcakes on Christmas day. Like Beaujolais vineyards, Kentucky Fried Chicken found its marketing gimmick striking a chord with the Japanese audience from decades past eager to embrace foreign traditions and foods as a display of sophistication. The fried chicken tradition is stuck, despite increasing health concerns with fried foods.
Rice cakes, Beaujolais wine, or fried chicken all show that foods that are centerpieces of both old and new traditions do not necessarily represent the tastiest and healthiest option available to a wealthy populace. In fact, each case harks back to a time when people were poorer, so could not afford fancy meals, and were more ignorant about the outside world, so easily fell victims to clever marketing campaigns used to sell substandard food items from the West. But after decades or centuries of eating the same thing at the same time of the year, people no longer question the wisdom behind eating such foods but simply see the foods as part of the tradition.
Traditions are, after all, manmade, and quite frequently, even the non-food aspects of some traditions do not make sense if thought through logically. But given that traditions are what define a certain group of people, modern-day guardians of the tradition do not dare to undermine the tradition in any way. That blind need to maintain traditions is particularly visible in Japan, where very identity of what makes one Japanese often rest on observation of certain traditional practices. Just as the police do not dare tell old people to stop eating rice cakes for new years, people do not dare to give up traditional foods, even if they do not taste good and are bad for health.
Comments
Post a Comment