Speaking of traditions, I thought back to when I took part in a cooking class about fifteen years ago. Yes, I am also a cook, but that's another story. I still remember those tiring, hectic days, but they were full of things I wanted to learn more about and people with whom to share them.
Between presentations, lessons, and dinners to prepare for exams, every morning I used to walk down the long corridor that separated the kitchens from the demonstration room.
This room was designed to accommodate the chef and the team on duty, who prepared the gala dinner at the end of each term with extreme skill and diligence. I still remember the excitement, the aromas, the precision, and the speed that dominated the room in those moments before everything was finished.
The adrenaline was palpable. I knew what it meant to work tirelessly in preparation for such important occasions, where renowned chefs were likely to be present.
When the evening finally came to an end, I didn't think twice and, with the excuse of sharpening my knives, since the machine for this purpose was right in the “famous” room, I went in. To my great surprise, I spoke to one of the chefs present at the event. But I wasn't very lucky, because he soon withdrew, just in time for compliments.
In his place, I was approached by a member of the brigade, a young man (who later told me he was from Kyūshū), looking very proud in his uniform and with a confident gait.
So, out of nowhere, the conversation came to life naturally, which seemed rather strange to me, as I am quite reserved, yet in that situation I completely changed my attitude. This was certainly due to the topic of conversation. (I loved and still love cooking, I enjoy making desserts in my free time and I am very curious about the culinary world in general). So, with immense pleasure, we struck up a long conversation, which was joined by other members of the same brigade.
I must say that at the time, this event was incredibly interesting because, for the first time, I realized how much appeal and devotion is placed in the tradition of the ancient culinary arts, especially Italian cuisine, and everything it represents in the world. That was the focal point of our conversation.
He explained to me as precisely as possible, despite some language difficulties, how long it had taken him to organize this experience and how long he had had to wait to become part of that specific brigade. (Yes, I already knew about this because I knew the pastry chef well, and I knew that you had to be on a waiting list for at least two years before you could hope to be admitted), so he ‘temporarily’ left everything behind to follow that specific pastry chef, whose recipes he had studied practically all of.
So, between one word and another, we listed the ingredients for the preparation of some classic desserts, as tradition dictates. The aim was to be able to remember them all, according to the canons of Italian pastry-making.
This training was still in full swing, with more than three months to go, but judging by what he had learned so far, he would certainly return fully prepared.
And between a quick check on the babà soaking in rum and the preparation of various glazes and fillings, full of the expectations that only young people have when they set out to work hard to achieve their goals, he added with great pride that he also intended to explore other areas. So, he was not only trying to establish himself in the field of professional pastry making, but, aspiring to higher levels, he wanted to try his hand at other preparations, because, as he explained to me, his intention was to offer good traditional Italian cuisine, from appetizers to desserts, alternating it with local cuisine when he returned to the family restaurant.
Evidently, he felt a strong need to combine two culturally different types of cuisine as much as possible, which in some ways he had already intuited could be quite attractive to regular and new customers.
His project made me think back to the concept of “itameshi” (イタメシ), a term coined from the combination of Italy and meshi (food), which indicates the fusion and, at the same time, the enhancement of different ingredients and culinary styles.
Even today, it seems possible to try this culinary style in the restaurants we often encounter while traveling, where traditional Italian dishes are served that are not strictly linked to the original, but which seek to enhance their characteristics and appearance. This type of culinary concept presents many difficulties, as it is not always possible to find the same fresh ingredients, sometimes even the raw materials locally, especially when it comes to recipes that are unusual for the local culture.
Despite this, the idea of “itameshi” also has its value for tourists, as it happens that well-known dishes are in demand precisely because, in a new place, not everyone is willing to try recipes that are typical of the chosen location. In short, it is also a way to “comfort” tourists who are not accustomed to trying dishes they are not familiar with.
But ‘itameshi’ has noteworthy precedents. Its first ‘introduction’ to Japan by an Italian was followed by numerous examples of the same kind. Today, there are many restaurants that follow this culinary model in different areas of Japan.
After the opening of the first Italian restaurant, ‘itamehiya’, in Niigata by Pietro Migliore from Turin around 1881, Italian dishes became hugely popular, receiving almost as much appreciation as French cuisine, which has always been considered superior according to the classic canons of cuisine in general.
A trained eye, or at least one familiar with traditional Italian dishes, knows exactly what to expect from a pizza, for example, made in a restaurant that follows “itameshi,” where the ingredients will not be the same as those used in the Italian recipe, but the appearance will probably make it very similar.
Pizza is generally prepared with mochi to make the dough chewy and crispy, with the addition of shitake mushrooms, cheese, tomato sauce, seafood, dried fish eggs, and a little extra touch: a pinch of Tabasco sauce. Of course, it is possible to find simpler versions with fewer ingredients.
Spaghetti Napolitan is often prepared with other types of sauces and different toppings. It was first cooked by Shigetada Irie, chef at the Hotel New Grand in Yokohama (after World War II).
Initially, the recipe did not call for ketchup instead of classic tomato sauce, but its scarcity forced the chef to make this change. All the other ingredients, such as garlic, parsley, onion, ham, mushrooms, peppers, and oil, were readily available locally. Even today, dishes can vary not only in terms of ingredients, but also in terms of cooking, preparation, and presentation.
It seems that following the ‘itameshi’ culinary model has a very specific motivation, namely to please everyone by trying to combine Italian tradition with Japanese innovation.
Therefore, on the one hand, there is an attempt to cater to tourists looking for “comforting” dishes, while on the other hand, the local palate is respected and oriented towards the new, trying to attract it to the cultural concept of Italian cuisine.
Have you tried this type of culinary model?
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