Ambassador’s reception encourages sampling of sugar, spice, and everything rice

Americans do not only need to “Try Japan’s Good Food,” but they need to try much more of it.

So the Japanese government proclaimed at Ambassador Shinichi Nishimiya’s residence on Friday at a reception for the “Washoku—Try Japan’s Good Food” program. There, Ambassador Nishimiya described how Japanese agricultural exports to the United States appear comparatively small and promoted the increased integration of Japanese products into American markets. Although cosmopolitan Columbia students might recognize foodstuffs like matcha, mochi, and shochu, the appeal of such foreign foods to Western palates remains generally limited.

Among the plethora of booths carpeting the residence’s second floor, attendees could collect varied enough gastronomic delights to construct a perfect student meal. Unfortunately, mainstream supermarkets fail to carry the essential elements of such an affordable and filling supper.

Whole, grilled, teriyaki-glazed fish deliver a crispy crunch, a calcium- and calorie-rich package available primarily at specialty grocery stores. Much to the Japanese government’s chagrin, American shoppers tend to avoid animals with their heads and tails still attached. Convincing mainstream consumers in the West to meet their food eye-to-eye will prove challenging, no matter how sumptuous an eyeball tastes.

As a side dish to a teriyaki fish entrée, students might reach for soft, white yuba, a creamy and mild soy milk derivative that pairs well with bold flavors. Like rice’s long-lost cousin, yuba receives little attention outside of the Japanese community, and the “Washoku” initiative will, in all probability, not manage to garner greater popularity for this overlooked ingredient.

To wash all these alien dishes down easily, try a grassy glass of matcha, another iconic Japanese product largely unavailable to the American public. A supercharged version of green tea, matcha’s bitter, nutty, vegetable flavor profile veers wildly from the typical American conception of tea.

More likely for the average student, an icy shot of shochu—sometimes labeled soju—might accompany this meal. Following the “Washoku” reception’s theme, the message that Japanese shochu bears little resemblance to Korean soju seems critical when wandering the most well-stocked American liquor stores. Made from sweet potatoes, Thai rice, barley, or even chestnuts, and fermented using koji molds, shochu undergoes only one distillation, maintaining the base ingredients’ natural essences. Shochu distilleries pay fewer import taxes when their liquor falls under 24 percent alcohol, allowing them to legally mark bottles as “soju.” Not all sojus are created equal, and the Japanese government would prefer thirsty college students to purchase the import.

In the Japanese government’s fantasy, for desserts students would reach for traditional wagashi treats, confections that primarily feature earthy red beans. Rice flour pastries like mochi also usually include red bean paste, a flavor utterly foreign to the majority of Americans.

Beneath the pervasive economic propaganda and aggressively friendly government representatives, an endearing attitude of cultural openness underscored the “Washoku” event. Americans should try more of Japan’s food, not only because it is good, but also because it offers a chance to learn about a fascinating world outside of the mega-market’s walls.