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On the exhibit table sits a boat of takoyaki; crispy, palm-sized orbs of octopus freshly fried in crispy batter and dressed in ripples of glistening sauce. Next to it, a bara-zushi dish is served in a wooden ohitsu (rice tub) containing an extravagantly arranged melange of decorative seafood, neatly trimmed vegetables and seaweed atop a bed of vinegared rice. Radium-glow-emitting melon sodas pose in a distant display cabinet, whilst across from it, chopsticks levitate above a steaming bowl of kitsune-udon. It all looks too perfect to eat – which is fine, given that you can’t, because it’s all made of plastic!
In a UK first, Japan House’s exhibition ‘Looks Delicious!’ explores Japan’s food replica culture, exhibiting a dizzyingly delicious display of ‘shokuhin-sampuru’; mouth-wateringly realistic food replicas displayed in the front glass of restaurants in Japan to serve as visual menus for customers. These mass-produced replicas are displayed in eateries across the country from train station kiosks to high street chains, izakaya grills, ramen bars and kissatens (cafes).
Emerging in the 1920s, these replicas were influenced by the rise in a culture of eating out in department store dining halls (shokudos), as well as helping customers identify newly introduced foreign goods exported during Japan’s postwar trade boom. Originally made from coloured wax (which would often melt or discolour), these replicas are now made of PVC poured into silicon moulds, hardened in an oven, and handpainted with airbrushes and stencils before a finishing gloss is applied.
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What’s interesting is that these replicas go beyond being as realistic as possible. Whilst they closely emulate the exact textures and colours of each product – such as the opening exhibit of a gossamer-like film of an onion – they also are not 100% realistic. Each replica is crafted to capture the maximum appeal of each dish, depicting food items at their most fresh to capture the eyes (and stomachs) of passers-by. The exhibition creates a hyperreal world of exaggeration and delight, playing on the diner’s personal memory and nostalgia for a certain food, reproducing a version that looks like it tastes better than reality.
In one exhibit, a dandelion is gently placed in the centre of a chrysanthemum of transparent fugu-sashi puffer fish petals, and in another, the overhead lights reflect the polychromic sheen of a plump-skinned Yobuko squid sashimi. Each dish embodies a model of plasticised perfection, or ‘kanpeki’ (perfect), making these replicas perhaps the ultimate expression of the Japan’s cultural emphasis on notions of aesthetic ‘beauty’ and harmony. It is no surprise that this exhibition has been met with such enthusiasm from visitors of Japan House London; such immaculately presented novelty commodities appear to underpin the gaikokujin’s (foreigner’s) unique fascination with the culture, as the country indeed attracts over 25 million tourists a year.
The exhibition also reflects the country’s ethic of mindfulness and convenience as the replicas serve as visual aids for customers, portraying portion sizes and nutritional information to avoid over-ordering and food waste. They are also used in medical and nutritional science to teach portion control, as well as in farming and food manufacturing to serve as reliable reference points to ensure consistent quality control.
Still, I can’t help but think about the pervasive visual bias within Japan’s produce industry, in which supermarkets universally favour ‘perfect’ looking fruits and vegetables. That many customers insist on the perfect appearance of products leads the country to throw out a shocking 620, 000 tons of perfectly edible food a year. Perhaps the prevalence of visually idealised food items bespeaks a problematic pursuit of commercial perfection, prioritising an aesthetic value whilst willingly overlooking other issues.
For me, this exhibition recalls a distinct childhood memory of much-coveted mini plastic ‘dessert-making’ DIY toy kits that my sister and I would be given as gifts from Japan. I would savour the experience of crafting my plastic cherry parfait keyring which used silicon glue to emulate whipped cream. Indeed these replicas have a similar artisan quality, reflecting a culture of meticulous obsession with aesthetic detail.
‘Looks Delicious!’ serves up a PVC banquet of delicacies plated at peak perfection. As the exhibition spotlights the awe-inspiring expertise required to produce these replicas, it is easy to forget that these extraordinary spectacles of ingenuity and skill are a normal part of everyday life in Japan.
‘Looks Delicious!’ is on display at Japan House London until the 16 February 2025.