Lessons from a Solo Diner

The popular TV series "Kodoku no Gurume" or "The Solitary Gourmet" has been running for 10 years.

It's gained a huge following worldwide.

It's an adaptation of a 32-chapter manga series that centers on Japanese food.

The manga has been translated into more than 10 languages so far.

It's more fun to do things quietly,
without seeking out praise.

The author of the manga is Kusumi Masayuki.

In each chapter of the manga, the protagonist goes to a restaurant and enjoys the pleasures of dining alone.

With the COVID-19 pandemic making it difficult to dine out with friends, the series spoke to the zeitgeist.

Kusumi visits restaurants all over Japan to research the regional food culture.

He depicts local food culture and everyday life through his manga, essays, and illustrations.

I don't want to write something
that'll feel dated in five years.

I want my works to transcend
the passing of time.

Kusumi's works whet the appetites of people the world over.

He shares with us the secret to elevating everyday life into entertainment.

A meal shared with family and friends can be one of life's greatest pleasures.

In Japan though, "Koshoku" or eating alone, is also thought to be lots of fun.

Today, I'll be looking into how Kusumi Masayuki approaches food both in his work and in the course of daily life.

Kusumi asked Robert to meet him in Jinbocho, one of Japan's most famous neighborhoods for books.

Here, there are more than 100 antique bookstores housing millions of books and works of art.

Mr. Kusumi? Hi, I'm Robert Campbell.

Nice to meet you.

Why did you want to meet here?

This place is called Bigakkou.

It's a small school I used to attend when I was 19.

It's like a private academy.

Fascinating.

Bigakkou was established as a place where people of all ages could enjoy and pursue various forms of expression, including art and music.

Kusumi's manga "Kodoku no Gurume" was first published in 1997.

The protagonist is an importer of homewares.

Whenever he's hungry, he goes looking for a place to eat.

After finding a restaurant, he chooses what to order, and enjoys his meal in peace.

The manga was released at a time when magazines and TV shows went out of their way to feature popular high-end restaurants and famous gourmet dishes.

Kusumi conceived his series in opposition to that trend.

I first came to Japan when I was about 20 years old.

In those days, I think people weren't totally comfortable being seen eating in public.

I see.

But then one day things started to change.

Every time I turned on the TV, there'd be a program featuring gourmet food.

There were all of these close-ups of people eating to show just how much they enjoyed the food.

I get the feeling that this era represented a historic turning point for the media and culture of Japan.

What makes me feel that times have changed is the fact that when I wrote "The Solitary Gourmet," there were virtually no women dining at stand-up noodle shops.

There were also no women in beef-bowl restaurants.

Why did you decide to make the protagonist a person who enjoyed eating alone?

I'm the kind of person who likes to think carefully about what to eat first when I open my bento box.

I also like to go about eating in a certain way.

When I was young, I was embarrassed to admit that to others.

But one day, I was eating Japanese-style curry at a restaurant with a friend.

I'm very particular about the proportions of curry and rice in each bite.

And that's because I want to enjoy the perfect balance right up to the last mouthful.

I can relate.

But my friend was eating more curry than rice, which to me was kind of a risky choice, you know?

You'd end up with plain rice.

It was interesting that I was concerned about how someone else was eating.

It made me realize how particular I was about eating things in the right order and amounts.

And I thought it would be fun to dramatize what was going on in my head and make it into a manga.

To visualize your thoughts.

Yes. So imagine curry and rice.

What if I turned it into an epic battle between those two elements?

I could express this with a picture of waves crashing on the shore.

I could even draw a picture of a pair of scales to very literally show the right balance of the amounts of each.

You can express things in that way.

I think that's the beauty of manga, really.

And if I had the protagonist eating alone, I could be free to express what was going on in his mind without worrying about other people.

You thought a solitary protagonist gave you more freedom than two or three diners.

I think we both agree that the key word here is "free."

In Japanese, the word "solitary" often conjures up images of loneliness and gloom.

But that's not true in this case.

Being alone means the protagonist can eat whatever he wants, without any intrusion, purely focused on his own pleasure.

Exactly.

Our protagonist may be alone, but he's not lonely.

He's free to order what he feels like eating and enjoy it in whatever way he likes.

He can immerse himself in his thoughts simply because he's solitary.

That's such an interesting take on things.

I love it.

It's such a small linguistic difference, but it has this profound meaning.

My manga doesn't have much of a plot.

It has very little drama.

But I think that's actually why it works.

Each time, the protagonist goes to an eatery he's unfamiliar with, so he has to decide what sounds good just by looking at the menu.

Say he enters a noodle shop and orders a bowl of curry udon.

But if he realizes everyone else is ordering the fried tofu udon, that means he's made the wrong decision.

But that in itself is a kind of drama.

I think it's important to cherish the little dramas in life.

Every meal, every moment spent eating, is a mini-drama.

And if you depict that drama carefully, I think it can be interesting and entertaining even if it doesn't have a very complicated plot.

Perhaps that allows for more freedom of interpretation.

The story can touch and affect people in different ways.

I think Japanese people love to eat.

And in addition, they want to eat a variety of foods.

Let's imagine the home of a broke college student who's living in a tiny studio apartment.

They may not have much in the way of furniture, but they'll almost certainly have a ramen bowl, a pair of chopsticks, a plate, and a spoon;

all the utensils necessary for eating Chinese, Western, and Japanese cuisine.

I don't know if it's like that in other countries.

But I think it's interesting.

Much of the conversation that punctuates the story takes place purely within the mind of the protagonist.

How do you come up with his internal monologue?

What are you aiming for when writing his thoughts?

Since he's free to think whatever comes to mind, I can let him express thoughts that he may not want to share with other people.

I hand over my draft to the illustrator, Taniguchi Jiro, and then I look at his art, and do a rewrite.

Suppose he were to draw a powerful image of the protagonist gobbling up food.

I might make the protagonist compare his stomach to a blast furnace.

It's a manga, so it makes sense that a lot depends, even relies on the artwork.

The protagonist's internal thoughts feature strongly in the manga.

When his order of hamburger steak arrives...

Calm down! My heart and stomach
are in danger of overload.

And at a barbecue restaurant near an industrial area, as he devours one dish after another...

Wow! I'm like a human
thermal power station.

Taniguchi Jiro is the artist credited with breathing life into "The Solitary Gourmet."

Noted for his meticulous attention to detail, he won high acclaim in Europe and was awarded a knighthood by the French government.

Taniguchi drew "The Solitary Gourmet" by referring to a vast number of photographs taken by Kusumi.

The two worked together to produce 32 chapters over a span of about 20 years.

This was before the arrival of cellphones, so I was using a small, ordinary camera to take photographs that didn't turn out very well.

I always wondered how he managed to transform my mundane pictures into such beautiful illustrations.

It took him a whole day to draw a single frame.

That's the way he worked.

- So meticulous.
- He took his time.

Usually, it's exhausting to read a manga with that much detail.

Too much visual information.

But somehow, Taniguchi's works flowed along so smoothly.

The details carry you along rather than forcing you to stop to process everything.

The first translations of "The Solitary Gourmet" came out in France and Italy.

I didn't think French or Italian readers would be able to appreciate the protagonist's excitement over something like a Takasaki sweet bun.

But later on, I had a chance to meet an Italian reader and ask him about this.

He said he had no idea what this regional sweet tasted like, but the picture looked so good that it made his mouth water.

So, he was able to put himself in the protagonist's shoes.

It made me realize that people everywhere can relate to the feeling of wanting to eat something tasty.

Are there any drawings that Taniguchi created that you ended up ultimately not using?

Actually, Taniguchi passed away before completing all the drawings for the final chapter of the series.

It was really such a shame.

He had finished laying out all the panels for the pages, and was working on sketching out everything in pencil at the time of his death.

To me...

it felt like he was sending me a message.

It was as if he was saying that there's always the possibility of not being able to finish what you started out doing.

So from that point onwards, I decided to approach each work with deep care, as if it were to be my last.

One of Kusumi's works can be found at his alma mater.

It's one that means a lot to him.

Look at this!

It's crammed with fliers, manga, and artwork.

There's so much in here.

There's a whole collection of Garo, a magazine that's no longer published.

My debut was published in one of these.

Let's see...

Here it is.

The January 1981 edition.

Wow!

And this right here was my debut.

Awesome!

Kusumi's debut work, "Yako" or "Night Train."

The contents of a bento box are illustrated in detail.

A man in a trench coat has trouble making up his mind about the order in which he should eat his meal.

It looks delicious.

It makes me feel hungry.

It's all about a man eating a bento on his own.

Come to think of it, it's just like "The Solitary Gourmet."

It's the same.

Did you have something you loved to eat when you were a child?

Oh, yes.

My mother had to work, so my grandmother took care of me.

She'd often cook for me, and she'd make steak.

And she'd put some boiled pasta with butter on top of it.

And she'd serve it to me.

It was nothing fancy, but the steak and pasta were so good.

You enjoyed the pasta.

Oh, yes.

The pasta was full of the flavor of melted butter, over which I'd sprinkle some black pepper, not the kind you grind yourself, but the pre-ground stuff.

It made me feel like a real grown-up.

I was about seven at that time, and to me it was incredibly delicious.

I could tell how good it was from your description.

It really came across.

But you know, it's not as if I could eat that very same steak and pasta.

Right.

If your grandmother were to cook you the same thing today, it would probably seem different.

But I could tell how much you enjoyed it back then from the look on your face.

It made my mouth water just hearing you describe something I've never even tasted.

The pre-ground pepper and all.

I believe it's all about your memories.

It's not about eating at a particular restaurant.

It's about how you felt when eating something special.

Descriptions of your feelings convey the taste of the food much better than a description of the food itself.

Such memories will never fade away.

And that's what I like to write about.

In 2012, "The Solitary Gourmet" was developed into a TV series.

More than 90 episodes have been produced so far.

None of the restaurants featured in the regular manga appear on the show.

The crew goes all over Japan to find restaurants that fit with Kusumi's image.

Kusumi provides music for the TV series.

He and his band compose and perform the music themselves.

He understands the valuable role the music plays in conveying the story.

The biggest difference between manga and TV is whether or not there's sound.

You can't incorporate music into manga even if you want to.

In order to adapt an 8-page manga into a 30-minute TV show, you have to have music.

It's simply a necessity.

The protagonist, Goro, is a man of few words.

So I knew we'd need music to fill the gaps.

The music should help convey what's going on in his mind and what he's feeling while he's eating in silence.

It brings everything alive.

Yes.

Time flows continuously, and while Goro is eating, the audience needs to feel that they're right there with him.

Music and sound make that possible.

I like blues music.

Blues is based on the idea that everyone has a day when they feel blue.

It doesn't matter whether you're a king or a homeless person.

Anyone can get the blues.

It's the same with my manga.

It doesn't matter whether you're rich or poor, a man or woman, young or old.

It's a fact- everyone gets hungry.

And when you're hungry, you feel blue.

The main character Goro is always blue because he's always hungry, which is why he heads out on the town and goes in search of a place to eat.

I think this is something that everyone can relate to.

It's something that transcends gender, age, culture, and language.

Everyone gets hungry.

What about the dialogue?

We have a team of scriptwriters.

But then I receive the draft that they've created so that I can check over everything.

I usually rewrite the majority of the protagonist's monologue, the thoughts that go through his mind.

Wow.

I never fiddle with the story, but I can't have him saying things like "The meat is so juicy and flavorful" or "the juices just burst in my mouth."

No way.

Why is that?

Because he's not a food reporter.

These are his private thoughts.

Let me give you a good example of what I mean.

Let's say our protagonist is digging in to a meal of churrasco, Brazilian barbecue.

The script I receive may have him saying a line that's like, the juices burst in my mouth when I bite into the meat.

I would scratch that and replace it with: Don't just bite into it.

Tear it off!

It may not seem like a big deal.

But it's funny when the actor says what's going on in his mind.

Tear it off!

Things like that are what define the series.

In addition to manga stories, Kusumi has published numerous essays on travel and food.

Most of his food essays are about commonplace eateries.

He likes to walk around aimlessly and to try and find hidden gems.

Memories and discoveries come
when you don't look for them.

Personally, I really enjoy walking.

I take the subway or taxi to get around Tokyo, but I try to get off two stations ahead of my destination and to walk the rest.

I do that, too.

I do that a lot.

And if it coincides more or less with a mealtime, I'm on alert for a place to eat.

- My radar switches on.
- Nice.

So, if I'm walking somewhere, but I come across an alley when my radar is on...

You get a hit, right?

I automatically look around in all directions to find somewhere to eat.

And that is so much fun.

I know the feeling.

I do the same when I'm traveling.

I find myself drawn toward side streets.

The feeling you get from walking by a restaurant is not the same as the feeling you get from the front.

Stepping into a new restaurant is like entering a different country.

A republic.

More like a kingdom.

And the proprietor is the king.

Or queen.

Yes, and the restaurant is the ruler's kingdom.

Interesting!

So, I want to find out about the country.

If there's a menu, I look at it and study it carefully, because the menu is the like the law of the land.

The constitution.

It also provides the history of the restaurant in chronological order.

So it may even be an epic.

A grand tale.

I enjoy imagining what the country is like.

If I look around and see that everyone is enjoying their meal, that means the country is ruled by a benevolent ruler who's loved by everyone.

I'm just a traveler passing through, so it's not my place to comment.

But I enjoy letting my thoughts run wild.

We asked Kusumi to write a kanji that reflects his life and his work.

The kanji he selected is "Kyu," a character used in his family name.

Some things remain the same while others change.

The impression I got from you today is that you place great importance on maintaining a balance between the two.

That's reflected in your choice of the kanji "Kyu" which means everlasting.

I want to write manga that will stay relevant for a long time to come.

I don't want to write something that will feel dated in just five years' time.

I wouldn't go as far as to say "universal," but I do want my works to transcend the passing of time.

I've realized that I want to create things that will last forever.

That's something that I've figured out fairly recently.

What would you like to do in the near future?

I've always been interested in things that are disappearing.

And at the moment, I'm fascinated by small, local barbershops.

They're in every town, but they're gradually being lost.

People usually go to their regular barbershop, but if you're traveling or something, you may have to go to a new barber.

And that can actually be quite a fun experience.

That's scary, though.

It takes courage, more so than entering a restaurant, because it's just you and the barber.

It's intimate.

When you look into the mirror, you see yourself and the barber, so it may feel kind of awkward at first.

But if you tell him you're visiting and would like to know about some of the local specialties, he might tell you about some old restaurants and recommend several places that are worth checking out.

I see.

And if you say you're looking for a place to have a drink and a meal, he may let you in on some of his favorite spots.

And where to find them.

And he may tell you how the locals all say that some newly opened restaurant is good, but in fact they're comparing it to another restaurant— the old favorite.

And everyone uses this place as a basis of comparison, even if no one admits it out loud.

I love finding out about local gems like that.

Hasn't changed a bit.

I haven't eaten here in
seven or eight years.

- Welcome.
- Thank you.

- Ramen, please.
- Coming up.

Here you go.

It looks just the same.
I'm glad.

Delicious.

Kusumi first ate here 44 years ago.

You never forget what you
ate when you were young.

I'm so glad nothing's changed.