What My Trip to Japan Taught Me in the Kitchen

Before going to Japan, I knew this country through sushi, ramen, knives and anime. When I returned, what stayed with me was far more than just recipes.

Japan showed me what discipline, simplicity and lifelong mastery mean in the kitchen.

Mastery Has No Age

One of the things that impressed me most in Japan was the elderly masters.

People approaching 70, 80 and even 90 still opening their shops every day, taking their place behind the same counter and continuing the work they had been doing for years.

Some have spent their entire lives making only sushi.

Some have been rolling the same noodle dough for decades.

While in the Western world retirement is a goal, in Japan mastery seems like a lifelong journey.

For many of the chefs I saw there, work was not just about earning money — it was part of their character.

Repetition Over Perfection

Watching the movements of a sushi master, I realised that the point is not creativity — it is repetition.

The same movement. The same precision. Every day. For years.

Perhaps this is where the secret to Japanese cuisine's success lies.

Striving to get a little bit better every day.

Tempura: A Much Bigger World Than I Imagined

Before going to Japan, I thought of tempura simply as fried vegetables or prawns.

There I saw that it is an area of expertise in its own right.

Some restaurants make only tempura.

The temperature of the oil, the density of the batter, the temperature of the water used and even the timing of service are all meticulously controlled.

Behind a dish that looks simple lies years of experience.

This approach reminded me that in the kitchen, the things that look easy are actually the hardest.

Some of the World's Finest Pastries Are in Japan

When most people think of Japanese cuisine, bread or pastry doesn't come to mind.

But the croissants, milk breads and pastry products I ate in Japan genuinely surprised me.

They had taken French techniques, combined them with their own discipline, and produced extraordinary quality.

The care and precision I saw in many bakeries rivalled the finest patisseries in Europe.

A Kitchen Open to the World

Another aspect of Japan that surprised me was how open it was to the rest of the world.

Italian restaurants. French bistros. American burger joints. Korean cuisine. Chinese cuisine.

But none of them were direct copies.

The Japanese take an idea, pass it through their own culture and reinterpret it.

The result is something both familiar and entirely Japanese.

Even Chain Brands Adapt

This is true not only in restaurants.

You see it even in international chains.

Walk into a burger chain and you will find products exclusive to Japan.

The same approach exists in supermarkets and cafés.

Even global brands are forced to adapt to Japanese culture.

This shows just how strong the country's gastronomic identity is.

Respect for Ingredients

After all these experiences, what I came to realise was this:

Japan's power does not lie in its techniques.

It lies in its respect for ingredients.

A tomato is not just a tomato. A fish is not just a fish. Even a single grain of rice matters.

And I think this is exactly where the universal language of good cooking begins.

Returning to Kaş

I didn't return from Japan with new recipes.

But I learned to look more carefully.

I learned to give a product the time it deserves.

And I learned that sometimes the way to cook better is not to add more things, but to do less.

Today, in many of the dishes I prepare in Kaş, I can see the traces of that simplicity and respect that Japan taught me.