Delightful Cutsおいしい断面

Starting with fruit sandwiches made with fresh cream and fruits like strawberries and satsumaoranges, sweets and other foods that look beautiful when cut or sliced, with a variety of colors and shapes in cross-section, have been drawing considerable attention. For their impactful appearance, they are called moedan, cross-section of infatuation, and their popularity is perhaps a reflection of the heights social media has reached. People not only purchase these cut food selections at shops and restaurants, but many make them at home guided by videos online with recipes and helpful hints on ingredients and presentation. Here we seek out the secrets behind the ideas and tastes in these delectable cross-sections inspiring such love at first sight.

From sushi rolls with colorful ingredients and vinegared rice in seaweed to swirled narutomaki made with fish paste, Japan has long had food with striking cross-sections.

These days, transportation and techniques for preservation and processing have made dramatic progress, and fresh fruits and vegetables are now readily available. Visually appealing arrangements are possible and with the rise of social media, highly appealing cut food has entered the limelight.

So, what is behind these creations? Zerry no Ie started with a request for a large gelatin cake for a birthday. “We took the time to solidify each of the parts while using a variety of gelatins to prevent the cake from losing its shape when delivered.”

Atelier de Terrine Maison Okëi’s Terrine with 10 Vegetables expresses the seasonal Japanese landscape using vegetables of various colors. “ We bypassed the convention of using an existing mold for solidification,” reveals owner Takehiro Katayose, “and instead created an arrangement that would enclose the ingredients. I hope people simply enjoy the delicious flavors of the organic vegetables.”

With Asako Iwayanagi Plus’s parfaits for takeout, much thought goes into the layers and densities, with subtle adjustments made to maintain the flavors. “ Synergies can arise from unexpected combinations, ” they tell us . “Seasonal fruits are beautiful and look fresh and juicy; they go toward the top, while the lower part has accents of sauce, cream and gelatin; layers of deliciousness in a cup.”

There is a masterpiece of traditional Japanese sweets as well that puts high value on the cross-section. Wagashi Yui’s saogashi block sweets depict the changing seasons of Mt. Fuji. “Each block is handmade by an artisan,” says the shop’s representative,“ and the shapes and colors are arranged to reveal a different expression depending on where it is cut.”

Interestingly, there are cases where the pursuit of attractive presentation has led to improved flavor, just as, conversely, the quest to create exquisite flavor has in some cases led to more attractive presentation.

“ We of course try to make each product beautiful,” says the owner of Tanuki Appetizing,“ but we also consider how the bagels will look when lined up in the display case.”

Beautiful cross-sections are proof of freshness and are underpinned by the advanced technique, sharp sensibility, and aesthetic sense of their creators.

Alongside sushi, soba, and eel, tempura is a central part of Tokyo’s old-style food culture. The city has a host of tempura restaurants, and because the ingredients and preparation methods are so simple, there is a hidden depth to the art; differences in flavor largely depend on the cook’s skill. One shop that provides consistent taste with unique ingredients is Tempura Takiya in the Azabujuban district. “In order to bring out the delicious flavor inherent in the ingredients,” says proprietor Tatsuaki Kasamoto,“ it is a matter of how to utilize deep-frying; that is where the skill comes in.”

Chateaubriand steak is one of the restaurant’s signature dishes. Meat is not traditionally used in old-style Tokyo tempura, but Kasamoto, whose roots are in Japanese cuisine, has drawn on new ideas to fashion a masterpiece.

He cuts tenderloin beef into cubes and wraps them in perilla leaves before battering and putting them in the hot oil. The cross-section looks rare, but the heat has penetrated through, and the meat is more flavorful than if grilled. It is not at all greasy, and the aftertaste is light. “Wrapping the meat in perilla leaves is key. With steak, you grill the surface to trap the juices, but if you deep-fry beef straight, the juiciness escapes. This is why the leaves are so important; they add resiliency. Tempura essentially is the use of oil to bring out the flavor of the ingredients.”

Another of the restaurant’s superb signature dishes is sea urchin. The brined Hokkaido sea urchin with no alum additives is very tender, which makes it difficult to deep-fry, but Kasamoto wraps it in seaweed before battering. Kasamoto says he listens to the sound while it is down in the oil, looks at the coating’s color, and assesses the fragrance. When cut with a knife, the outside is dry and crisp while the inside is thick and syrupy. In your mouth, it is sweeter and more fragrant than raw sea urchin.

“With old-style tempura, you don’t use a knife. The fish is always deepfried with the tail. With eel, the conger eel from Tokyo Bay has an earthy smell, so it was seen as good to fry thoroughly in fragrant oil until it would break with your chopsticks. Now, distribution is much better, so breaking it like this is more of a show. Here, we cut the sea urchin with a knife to make it easier to eat, but the heat will try to escape, so with residual heat, it is cooked further. We gauge the timing of when the customer will eat it, and calculate back to get the ultimate flavor.”

Not battered ingredients but batters for ingredients ― Kasamoto’s stance is to focus on the food itself. “It has to be delicious of course, but also beautiful in appearance and easy to eat. I reached my style by considering all these factors. Food that looks delicious has an allure. Appearance is an important factor in forming the flavor.”

Kintaroame Honten in Tokyo’s Taito-ku boasts over 120 years of history. “The same face wherever you cut it” is the shop’s motto, and the face is Kintaro, a hero of Japanese folklore. The candies might be the original cross-section food. They make for a humorous scene together, but actually their expressions vary, laughing, angry, troubled. Each one has its own personality, exuding warmth and nostalgia.

In the early Meiji period (1868-1912), the shop’s first proprietor began selling candies in the Minowa district. Second-generation owner Kenichiro, in late-Meiji, used the kumiame technique to fill a candy roll with a picture that when cut would reveal Kintaro.

“At the time,” says Akio Watanabe, the company’s president, “sweet things were precious; it was hard for children to grow up healthy but this folklore hero Kintaro was healthy and strong, and the owner hoped that every child would grow up like him.”

To make the candies, sugar and mizuame sweetener are boiled down, balled and kneaded. Color is added, and each part of Kintaro’s face is made separately. When the candy cools, it hardens and becomes difficult to shape, but if too warm, it becomes gooey. So a sharp eye is kept on the temperature.

Water is sprinkled on the eyes, nose, mouth, hair, eyelashes, eyebrows, skin, and outline, and they all adhere to form a foundation. Kintaro candy at first has a diameter of 35 centimeters, a length of 70 centimeters and a weight of 40 to 50 kilograms. It takes two people to roll it on the table. A machine is then used to wring it out thin and long, after which it is chopped up to make the finished product, an adorable little Kintaro. He once lacked eyelashes, but as materials and technologies evolved, more delicate crafting became possible.

“It’s a child’s face, so he has a healthy red color with big eyes. We try every time to create a good face, but for some reason it always ends up resembling the person who made it. Accurate replication in large quantities takes skill and is fundamental to manufacturing, but the way the candy is formed and colored can differ with the maker, and how it is cut can also change the expression. These are both flaws and the source of its appeal.”

In the cross-section of a small candy we get a glimpse, it seems, of the particularness of the maker and the trends of the times.