so, here is the stake in the ground, the brief explanation of kaiseki that rejects as fundamentally flawed the idea that kaiseki is primarily a culinary tradition emphasizing presentation. kaiseki is one of these mythical ideas in japanese cooking --
little understood except by culinary history wonks, so no one seems to be able to agree about the early history of kaiseki. i suppose this is my contribution to misinformation.
there is an ideal
type for kaiseki which is now more honoured in the breach than the
observance. these days, it is best known as sumptuous dining -- expensive,
rarefied, exclusive, something like the japanese version of going to
the french laundry. it is more accurate, though, to think of kaiseki
as an approach to cooking and consumption which finds expression in
two broad types of dining.
the kanji for kaiseki can be written in two ways -- the first stands
(approximately) for "formal occasion," the second (again
approximately) for "stone in the robe." most of what is today called
kaiseki is of the formal occasion variety and descends from japanese
court cuisine. because this was, broadly speaking, food for the
nobility, price was usually irrelevant to preparation. kaiseki meals are some of the most expensive dining experiences you can have. the stone in
the robe form of kaiseki is much rarer, especially outside japan.
this lineage of kaiseki derives from the tea ceremony (cha-no-yu) and
from the cooking traditions of zen monasteries (shojin ryori). this lineage of kaiseki
emphasises economy and wise use of materials rather than waste: the
story (which i find singularly unconvincing) is that monks in temples
used to warm stones and keep them in their robes next to their
stomachs to ward off hunger pangs -- hence the name. i am told that an
extremely minimalist version of shojin ryori may be found in california at the tassajara
zen monastery. though different in ancestry, both lineages of kaiseki
emphasize mindful eating and, over time, have developed into quite
highly formalized culinary systems.
the original kaiseki (stone in the robe variety) was of the form
ichi-ju issai (or ni-sai, or san-sai) -- meaning one soup and a
prepared dish or two or three (rice always being a given). kaiseki of both
lineages have elaborated the form, but always the basic structure
remains: there is the soup, and then there is an array of prepared
dishes. kaiseki menus are thus variations on a theme -- chefs use
ingredients in season and cook them within the kaiseki framework and
the broader wa-shoku framework (wa-shoku translates as japanese
cooking, and it has its own set of principles for success -- seven
methods of cooking, five flavours, five colours, etc etc). the kaiseki
format (which is almost infinitely extensible, as you'll see) offers
some boundary conditions within which the kaiseki chef's duty is to
optimize. i like to think of it as a multivariate optimization
exercise, like many crafts.
for most formal occasion variety kaiseki, the standard format and one
interpretation of an approximate order is given below:
starters
shiizakana -- appetizers eaten with sake
sakizuki -- small things (more appetizers, but these not necessarily
intended to be eaten with sake)
zensai -- vegetable appetizers (yet more appetizers, but these are
more substantial)
suimono -- the soup course
seasonals
tsukuri/mukuzuki -- sashimi
hassun -- a platter (the name derives from the platter's edge-length,
which is 8 inches or hassun) of complementary foods from either the
seas and the mountains or the fields and the streams. a hassun for the
early spring might be tai (sea bream) and a mountain herb like
fukinoto (butterbur buds); one for the midsummer might be freshwater
eel (unagi) and new potatoes (imo).
ways of cooking
yakimono -- grilled course
aemono -- dressed course (dressed with some kind of sauce -- this
course is usually dropped in smaller kaiseki, as far as i know)
nimono -- simmered course
mushimono -- steamed course
sunomono -- vinegared course (quick-pickled is the best analogue)
rice
shokuji -- course eaten with rice
then dessert is usually fresh fruit of some sort, plus matcha and a
wagashi (if in kyoto, or in a really fancy restaurant, the wagashi will be made of wasanbon, a hand-refined sugar from shikoku). the rice course is specially set apart because, really, no meal is
complete without rice (even if it is only a token amount of rice). this is true in japan as it is in china and
many other parts of east asia.
in kaiseki, chefs are at liberty to take out anything (almost) except the
suimono and shokuji courses. they will frequently replace courses
with analogues or referential courses -- for example, in place of
nimono (the traditional simmered course), an innovative chef might
serve a braised dish or a rustic claypot dish. the starters are also
relatively easily interchanged or omitted. in short kaiseki, many
chefs seem to eliminate the aemono course and one other dependent on
season: in the winter, the nimono is a staple but mushimono and
yakimono might go away; in the summer, nimono probably goes away and
yakimono sticks around. everyone loves the grill in the heat, even in
japan.
gesshinkyo is an interesting combination of the two lineages of
kaiseki. since tanahashi's training is in shojin ryori (temple
cooking, usually associated with the stone in the robe line) but his
restaurant is decidedly upscale (formal dining, expensive, elaborate),
dinner with him combines the vegetarian/non-alcoholic/introspective
and the lavish/expensive. it also forces a reinterpretation of many of
the courses because meat and alcohol are prohibited in shojin. you
will not get the tsukuri and shiizakana courses, but tropes like the
hassun will likely be interpreted in a quite refreshing way. i am told
that he once served junsai (water shield shoots) and myoga (japanese
ginger shoots) for a hassun -- a quite innovative way to combine foods
from streams/fields without resorting to serving meat. as with almost
all shojin, there will be no attempt to disguise vegetables/tofu as
meat -- you'll get many dishes and more different types of vegetables
than you're likely to have seen before in one sitting.
as a cooking tradition, shojin also appears to have a more granular
awareness of shun (seasonality) than the rest of japanese cooking in
general. shun is best translated as "season," though no really
adequate english word exists for it. a shun makes reference to a time
of year (recurrent and thus seasonal), a food, and an application --
thus, there is a shun for bamboo shoots (it lasts about 10-12 days in
early spring), recognizing that during this window of time bamboo
shoots are tender enough to be eaten as a root vegetable without the
leaching and processing necessary later in the season. some foods have
multiple shun. for example, tai (sea bream) has something like 3
separate shun. one is in early spring, when the fish are lean and
clean-tasting after the winter and best suited for some kinds of
sashimi; another is in the midsummer when glycogen levels in the flesh
are moderately high and thus suitable for some other variety of
sashimi; and the third is just before spawning when the flesh is
suitable for char grilling. or something. you have to be a japanese
chef to keep up with these things. because the shun for foods overlaps
with the seasons, foods become markers of seasons as well as marked by
seasons -- hence the idea of shun no mono (seasonal foods) and menus
that closely reflect seasonality. good japanese chefs are particularly
intimately aware of the foods that are at the peak of their season at
any given point and adjust their menus accordingly -- these are now
rare and you only get to see this quality of cooking if you hang out
with professors at cooking schools and the like. good japanese chefs
are also frequently versed in the art, culture, and history of japan
-- lots of little in-jokes get folded into the composition and
presentation of japanese dishes. going into more detail about this
would be really tiresome -- as sociologists like to say, the practice
exists in an impenetrable hermeneutic circle. in any case,
high-quality kaiseki is characterised by this kind of dual richness in
the food: strong awareness of seasonality and multiple layers of
cultural meaning. if you are particularly attuned to shun and japanese
culture, eating at a really fancy kaiseki place is a bit like having a
private conversation with the chef through the medium of the dishes he
sends out. this is akin to how thomas keller sends out things like
oysters and pearls (savory pearl tapioca custard with oyster and
caviar) at the french laundry, except the conversation in a kaiseki
setting runs along the lines of "i have put a sansho leaf on this
humble piece of sesame tofu. [meaningful look]" "ah, a sansho leaf. it
must be midsummer. i hope there will be some tai sashimi later on,
perhaps in an ice-bowl, as is appropriate to this midsummer heat. this
sesame tofu is quite delicate and, even though it looks like nothing
very complicated, i am refined and cultured enough to see that someone
has spent hours grinding the seeds to produce this smooth and silky
gel designed to appear humble and unassuming. bravo to the chef." and so on.