The Sideways of Sashimi

During this week's sojourn in central California's wine country for a destiny-determining culinary showdown between three inspired chefs and three adventurous ladies, a stretch-Hummer limo, initially seen disembarking from the Firestone Winery parking lot, was later spotted lying in wait just outside the Hitching Post restaurant. Presumably, this comically massive vessel was providing transportation between the iconic locales of the 2004 film Sideways. Strange, the juxtaposition between a movie whose focus settles on the subtlety and beauty of wine appreciation, and a vehicle which could have been an extra in a Big Mac of a movie like Transformers or its supersized sequel. Sideways surely found an audience in many folks who might have otherwise considered such a passion for wine as our protagonist possesses to be mere snobbery; people who would find the exegesis of a well-crafted Pinot too rarified a subject were it not neatly nestled in a compelling narrative, like a veterinarian's prescription concealed in a slice of lunch meat.
    But as heartening as it was to see Sideways' winespeak-laden script succeed, try to imagine a world in which the film spawned a long-running television series, with each successive season set in a new growing region, and with each episode dedicated to detailing the finer points of a particular varietal. There would be a niche market for it, certainly. But it's tough to imagine any degree of mainstream success. However, if you substitute the art of Japanese cuisine for that of wine, and comic panels for moving pictures, you'd have something pretty close to the hugely popular (in Japan, at least) manga Oishinbo. Despite its elevated subject matter, the series has sold over 100 million copies of its 102 volumes since its inception in 1983. I'm not sure which is more delightfully shocking; that someone managed to successfully publish one hundred and two volumes of a comic detailing the intricacies of Japanese cuisine, from sake to vegetables to rice to gyoza, or that these seemingly esoteric tales sell like a Michael Bay film.

    Just as a mere glass of fermented grape juice might contain a whole universe of subtleties, the superficial simplicity of Japanese cuisine lends itself to an increased focus on the nuances. Take sashimi. Little more than simple hunks of raw fish, it is a dish capable of tremendous complexity, a fact which Tetsu Kariya, Oishinbo's author, goes to great length to convince you. If you're not sufficiently food-nerdy to be intrigued by the mere prospect of an in-depth exploration of preparing the perfect pot of rice, then have faith in the mighty power of story. By the time our protaganist Yamaoka Shiro, a culinary journalist who splits his time between developing the "Ultimate Menu" and working through some father issues, has emerged from his third or fourth cliffhanger cookoff or culinary showdown in which both honor and pleasure are on the line, you'll be calling in reservations to your nearest sushi restaurant to experience the food of Japan with a newfound appreciation and understanding.