Issue Vol. 4 — Beyond the Label ‘Japanese’: Communicating a Living Culture

Gastronomy is Not About Haute Cuisine

Across Europe, the word Japanese is becoming increasingly visible. In Japanese restaurants and matcha cafés run by Japanese people, words such as IKIGAI, ZEN, DŌ and WABI-SABI often appear. Together with Japanese ceramics, carefully designed interiors and thoughtfully curated spaces, they are presented as part of a single image of Japan.

Yet something often feels incomplete. The words that are meant to represent Japan are all there, but the context is often missing. It can be difficult to see the everyday live from which these ideas emerged, or the ways in which they continue to shape life in Japan today. After all, most people in Japan do not consciously live according to Zen or wabi-sabi. Japanese culture is not simply a collection of concepts on display. It is a way of life that continues to be practised, day after day.

One question often asked about Japan is: What religion do Japanese people follow? A common answer is, ‘We are not particularly religious’. Yet Japanese history suggests a more complex reality.It is not that Japanese people have no religion. In Japan, different religions and philosophies—including Shinto, Buddhism, Zen and Confucianism—have become woven into everyday life. Rather than being consciously followed as clearly defined doctrines, they are reflected in the way people eat, interact with others and observe seasonal occasions. Perhaps they have simply been inherited as part of the etiquette of everyday life.

Saying itadakimasu before eating. Leaving no grains of rice in the bowl. Not resting elbows on the table. Bowing slightly as you say otsukaresama desu to someone who has finished their work. Eating rice together with side dishes, allowing the flavours to come together in the mouth. Placing each dish in its customary position on the tray.

These actions are rarely recognised as expressions of Japanese culture by the people who practise them. They simply feel natural. Yet distance often makes the familiar visible. It is only when many Japanese people live abroad that they begin to notice how deeply culture is embedded in movements the body has learned naturally, in small gestures, unconscious judgements and everyday habits.

The same can be observed in Italy too. Stale bread is used with care rather than wasted. Sunday lunch remains a central family ritual. People look one another in the eye when making a toast. When these habits are traced back, they reveal how religion, history, family and community have become woven into everyday life.

There is another perspective worth considering. Perhaps the way young people in Japan live today is also part of Japanese culture.

Stopping for an ice cream or a Frappuccino after school. Taking purikura (Japanese photo booths) with friends. Spending hours at a chain izakaya on a Friday night, sharing dashimaki tamago and yakitori over highballs and plum wine.

Picking up drinks and snacks from a convenience store before heading to karaoke after missing the last train home. Choosing konjac jelly or chicken breast while dieting. Feeling the urge to listen to Heisei-era songs when summer festivals and beer gardens return. Becoming strangely excited at the sight of a bottle of Ramune. Feeling nostalgic for café-style Napolitan pasta or a firm, old-fashioned pudding.

These ordinary moments may seem far removed from ideas such as Zen or Dō. Yet they, too, are part of the living culture of Japan today—ways of life that cannot simply be recreated elsewhere. Culture is not only what has been handed down from the past. It is also shaped by the habits, patterns of consumption, memories and emotions of the people who live in the present.

Culture also extends into the future. Declining fish stocks, a shortage of people willing to take over farms, and changes to ingredients and production environments brought about by climate change will continue to reshape Japanese food culture.

For this reason, the image of Japan communicated abroad should be neither tradition alone nor trends alone.

Tradition — what has been passed down. Trend — how people are living today. Movement — the changes now beginning to emerge.

Only where these three overlap can contemporary Japan be understood in all its complexity.

Across Europe, interest in Japanese fermentation—particularly kōji and miso—is growing. Bakeries are incorporating miso into pastries and croissants, while producers are creating fermented foods using local ingredients such as bread and beans.

These are not simply imitations of Japanese cuisine. They are examples of knowledge developed in Japan meeting new ingredients, environments and traditions, and being reinterpreted into new food cultures. This is precisely how food cultures continue to evolve. Rather than reproducing Japanese food exactly as it exists, chefs and producers abroad are engaging with the knowledge behind it and adapting it to their own regions and culinary traditions.

What many people seek to understand is not simply that Japan has miso. They want to know how it is made, why this knowledge emerged, how it became part of everyday life, and how it continues to evolve today. It is this context—and the ongoing process of reinterpretation—that transforms curiosity into genuine cultural understanding.

What Movimento Metropolitano seeks to communicate is not a collection of easily recognisable symbols gathered under the label ‘Japanese’.

Instead, we ask: why do people in Japan today do these things without giving them a second thought?

By tracing the roots of everyday habits, tastes and gestures, we begin to understand how they are connected to history, society and daily life. Only then do they become more than cultural symbols—they become expressions of a way of life. What should be communicated is not a fixed image of Japan, but a living one: a Japan that inherits the past, is shaped by the present and continues to evolve into the future. Follow our journey @movimento.metropolitano.