About Wafu

“Wafu – bringing traditional Values to the Dining Experience”

We all know Western cultural values promote over-consumption and the eating of highly processed foods which are not good for our own health or the health of our planet. We are not powerless. We can change this, little by little, through each of us doing out bit.

The word ‘Wafu’ has its origins in a gentle mindfulness regarding food, in peace and harmony, pliancy and softness. Simply put, Wafu means Japanese style. We invite you to join with and experience your meal in this manner.

1. At Wafu you are encouraged to eat family-style. This allows you to try more dishes, share the pleasure, and there is less likelihood that food will be wasted.
2. Let us know when you are ordering, how hungry you are; we can tailor portion sizes accordingly. Of course we prefer that you are hungry when you visit as the purpose of coming to Wafu is to share and enjoy healthy and delicious food together.
3. Let us know before or when you are ordering if there are ingredients you are allergic. We can avoid using them.
4. Show ‘Omoriyari’ or thoughtfulness when you are sharing and dining. This can be thought of as a Japanese version of ‘The Golden Rule’.
5. Don’t rush your meal. Relax and experience the benevolence of Mother Earth, who had made all things possible. Think Arigatou, “thank you” in Japanese.
6. Please eat everything: don’t leave anything on your plate.
7. Bring your own washed reuse-able container so you can take home any unfinished food. (Does not apply to seafood: Council guidelines prohibit.

Learn more: www.foodauthority.nsw.gov.au/consumers/keeping-food-safe/
So what the food that you are eating really is

Enjoy!

When planing to order take away meals, please bring own clean reuse-able containers or plates.

In terms of waste minimisation this is so important. Failing to bring your own take away containers may result in refusal of service. See take away guidelines for future details.

If after reading this, you feel uncomfortable and find yourself unwilling or unable to respect our philosophy, we will not offended if you choose to leave without ordering.

Some Reflections on the Spirit of Peaceful Harmony (wafu)

A cultural experience is always enhanced by the depth of one’s knowledge of the culture being experienced, and in particular the ethos, or philosophy, upon which it rests. The following reflections are made with the intention of broadening the understanding of the ancient concept of wafu, and its aptness as the name of a much-loved restaurant, which in its splendid modesty offers the precious gift of pleasurable contentment and a jewel of hope for a sustainable future.

Wafu means Japanese style. The words wa and fu come from the continent, and have Chinese characters (kanji) that every attentive Japanese ten year old schoolchild would know.

Wa was the name by which the later Han and Three Kingdoms (25-220 CE and 220-265 CE respectively) rulers knew the largest political entity of the Japanese archipelago. Specifically it referred to that part centred on the rich rice growing area - or rice bowl - of the Yamato plains, around modern Osaka, in the western half of the main island of Honshu. From the Chronicle of the Wei¹ comes the first extant detailed description of Japan. In it was recorded that Wa was ruled by a woman called Himiko, and that she had sent an embassy across the seas, and over rugged hostile territories to pay tribute to the Wei emperor, Ming-di, in Ch’ang-an. This feat, exhibiting loyalty and filial piety, so pleased Ming-di that the title of ‘Queen of Wa Friendly to Wei’ was conferred and a gold seal with a purple ribbon awarded.²

The characters which form the kanji wa represent an open mouth combined with a rice plant.³ Rice plants sway in the wind and have long been an image of pliancy and softness. The mouth is associated with speaking, and, in context, the pliancy of the rice plant connoted harmonious accommodation, and eventually peace. And, as we saw, it can to refer to Japan as well.⁴ The application of wa to food, rice and mouth together, is clear. And despite wa meaning old Japan⁵ it is still widely used; for example, wa-shoku, meaning Japanese food. The centrality of rice, in political terms, to Japan cannot be too highly stressed. At the time the semi-mythical Queen Himiko was granted her title and golden seal, there were about forty scattered totemic tribal communities (uji), of which the Yamato uji could claim some dominance, as evinced by imperial Chinese recognition.⁶ This uji would eventually triumph over all its rivals, and it is no coincidence that its totem was the rice plant. All Japanese emperors have been senior male descendants of the rice totem uji, and the present occupant of the chrysanthemum throne must still perform a number of surprising ritual duties to guarantee the fertility of the national rice crop, which by extension are intended to promote peace and harmony of the empire. The concepts contained in the wa kanji show the close relationship between food security and socio-political well being.

The second kanji in wafu, fu, means wind. It is familiar to English speakers, appearing almost unchanged as the assimilated word typhoon (taifu, great wind). The kanji has been simplified, but in ancient times fu comprised one part meaning common and another meaning long tailed bird; together these represented phoenix (in Chinese, huang). The phoenix was the second most important totem in ancient China, ultimately giving way to the dragon, and was thus a common decorative motif, and this mythical bird was thought to ride the wind. Fu eventually came to mean manner or style, and in this followed the same semantic path as the English word spirit. So, putting all this together, wafu means Japanese style in the ancient sense with a connotation of traditional values.

There ends the discussion of the derivation of the word wafu, but, contrary to any impressions of obscurity which may have arisen, in the context of global social and environmental problems, it is becoming clear that many traditional values will need to be reinvigorated if we are to achieve a sustainable means of living into the not too distant future. Until recently Japan’s culture has proceeded additively, that is, not by total displacement of cultural values (as usually occurs in European culture) but by adding and overlaying new values over the older ones.⁷ Thus the seeming paradox - at least to European (transcendental) thinkers - of according equal cultural importance to the richness of venerable antiquity (sabi) and deliberate restraint to the point of artificial poverty (wabi).⁸ Similarly, ancient traditional values are becoming rather up-to-date, or imamekashi as the great authoresses of Heian-kyo (Kyoto) would have said one thousand years ago. One example is food security - as anciently embedded in the wa concept - which is the key social, political and environmental concern of our times.⁹

Currently and globally there are more people suffering diseases resulting from overeating (1 billion) than from malnutrition (800 million). This is the first time in history that this has been the case.¹⁰ Our intensive and unsustainable agricultural practices see us overproduce food by more than 50% of requirements. Yet people still go hungry. There are several reasons for this. One reason is that food - clearly - is not distributed fairly. An example of this is the widespread excessive indulgence in consuming animals as products. This has meant that more than 40% of the world’s grain crop is presently fed to animals, whose sad lot is one of cruel abuse ending in their processing for mass protein consumption. By deciding to eat less meat and dairy (or none), we release mountains of grain which can be distributed for human consumption. We would also have a major impact on carbon emissions by doing this. One estimate doing the rounds¹¹ says that, for meat and dairy to be grown in an environmentally sustainable manner, average consumption would only need to fall somewhat.¹² The effects on personal health (and hospital waiting lists) would be considerable. The most conservative estimate of the cost of “meat processing” in terms of carbon emissions is 10% of present totals. It is probably higher.

At the restaurant Wafu most of the dishes are vegan, and the few which contain chicken or fish do so in sustainable, but sufficient, quantities. It is difficult to express how deeply impressive this was upon witnessing it during one’s first dining experience at Wafu. Suddenly it felt as if one was transported back into the traditional ethos of old, classical Japan, where fish was eaten minimally, and mostly cooked, and poultry was consumed even more minimally. As equally impressive as the minimally¹³ sufficient portions of fish and poultry, in those few dishes containing them, was the polite urging of restraint by the proprietress, Ichikawa-san, regarding the number of dishes being ordered. This was the first time that one had ever been advised that too much food was being requested. (I had imagined the entree servings would be smaller than the generously sized, but not excessive, portions turned out to be.) And it raised the interesting question of a chef’s responsibility on the matter of sufficiency, particularly regarding waste, in the context of our ongoing environmental concerns. For this is not a question to which chefs, in general, devote much thought, beyond how it affects their pricing models.

However, in the oldest recorded culinary traditions of Japan waste is a central concern.¹⁴ In Buddhist tradition, the head chef of a Zen monastery (tenzo) must observe many strictures; one metaphorical injunction is that the tenzo account for each grain of rice.¹⁵ What this entails is that water used to simmer vegetables is re-used as stock or soup, left over rice is made into rice balls, every edible part of a plant is used, and so on. This is a heavy burden of responsibility for one person to carry, and it is the practice in monasteries that the tenzo position rotates between a group of senior chefs on a monthly basis. Since at Wafu there is, sadly, only one Ichikawa-san, it seems that, as clients, we can at least help relieve this burden a little. One way, in the spirit of wafu and environmental sustainability, that we might do this is, where practical, to try to waste no food by leaving nothing on our plates, and to request no more food than is necessary to sustain ourselves. One realises that the diners at Wafu are already strongly minded towards this ethos, but we can certainly do more to encourage others (including children) to do the same. This is traditional in both Australian and many other cultures, but too often neglected now because of consumerist ideas which promote excessive consumption. As children, many of us, at least those over the age of forty, may recall our parents explaining the unfairness of global food distribution, often with the command to eat all our food and to think of the hungry children in some far flung land like China, India or Africa. Another way to ensure that children develop a deeper appreciation of food, not only for itself, but for the privilege of having ready access to food of high quality, is to eat ‘family-style’. This is where everyone helps themselves from common bowls in the centre of the table. This also helps prevent waste, albeit by imposing what must be the most pleasant of parental burdens, namely that of finishing any food passed over by children. If a tenzo is held accountable for every grain of rice in a kitchen, surely it is reasonable to hold a child responsible for completing their meal. If bargaining or threats - “I’ll leave you at home next time,” - are of no avail, then parents might consider taking the responsibility upon themselves.

A question of waste and sustainability also arises from the use of plastic packaging, such as take-away containers. Again, the simplest way to reduce the sheer scale of the waste that packaging generates is to make it each and everyone’s responsibility to attempt to limit their use, and - if used at all - to re-use as often as possible, and only then to recycle. As with the use of animals as products, if we all make reductions then the problem shrinks to manageable proportions. It does not seem reasonable in this case either to burden the conscience of a tenzo solely with this further wastage, but rather for the users of the packaging to assume a greater level of personal responsibility. Just as it has never been traditional for us to feast on animals at every meal, so it is with our profligate use of plastics. Re-using take-away containers, by the user bringing them in to be refilled, is one option. Better still, some form of more sustainable and durable container could be brought when collecting a take-away order, and cumulatively and gradually this would have a positive impact on the environment. Oddly enough, this was once traditional in Australia. Until about four decades ago, Chinese take-away - then one of the few such options - was routinely served into containers brought - and taken away, washed and re-used - by the customers. That this idea is not some radically new emanation of idealism may come as a shock. But bear in mind that there is here no suggestion that we turn back the clock, as it were, but rather attempt to salvage what was of practical value and use from days gone by and move forward. This is now imamekashi. This is the spirit of wafu.

Before concluding some observations on pleasure and value, and how these relate to time or speed, are in order. The pleasures from instant gratification are, broadly speaking, transient - more properly, kinetic - that is they move from a state of not-pleasure to one where pleasure is experienced and back again, at varying rates. These may be instant, but they are also transitory. At Wafu there are an abundance of such pleasures to be enjoyed, and rightly so, for transitory pleasures are worth pursuing in themselves, with minor qualifications. There is another kind of pleasure which can be most simply explained by the term contentment. This is a sustainable pleasure, one in which the knowledge of a life lived modestly and well, with true friends, is experienced. One’s relationship to the world, socially and environmentally, is key to this state of contentment. In ancient Athens the greatest advocate of the joy of this form of pleasure was Epicurus, who called it ataraxia meaning freedom from worries, or tranquillity.¹⁶ Epicureanism was - and still is - a suppressed and much vilified tradition in European history, for, as in Japanese tradition, Epicurus rejected transcendentalist values which are derived from, and promote, fear and guilt. These both lie at the root of excessive consumption, and are encouraged by advertisers to ensure markets for useless and unwanted products. Excessive consumption and the uncritical giving in to every passing pleasure are unhappily amply evident in our richer societies. This manufactured need for instant gratification every instant has led to dangerous and unsustainable environmental degradation. And this returns us to the subject of food and the speed at which it is gratified.

Of fast food, the less said the better. One doubts that it actually is food, or even that it is fast.¹⁷ We can only hope that the all too numerous outlets presently poisoning our fellow citizens will be as fast in disappearing as was their unwanted appearance a couple of decades ago.

On the other hand, there is much to be said for slow food. But there is no need to document here the slow but steady rise of the slow food movement, most of which is admirable. It is sufficient to say that it embodies the principles of both kinds of pleasures, those of transience (but worth) and contentment. Many macrobiotic principles are also those of slow food, and even a slight acquaintance with them is rewarding. One macrobiotic injunction is that each mouthful be chewed as many as one hundred times. This allows one fully to savour the food (transient pleasure), and, by increasing the amount of saliva produced for each mouthful, eases and aids digestion which promotes health (sustainable contentment). It also extends the time in which pleasure is taken in a meal, which, if experienced at Wafu, is always a pleasure in itself.

If a personal confession be permitted, I am no particular friend to either organised or disorganised religion, and regard such matters as intimately personal. That said, my confession is that I often recall a Zen prayer, - somewhat akin to “saying grace” - the gokan-no-ge, which is sometimes said before meals in monasteries where shojin (monastic) principles reign supreme.¹⁸ Many of the subjects touched on in this discussion are covered in this so much worthier form of “saying grace”, known as The Five Reflections.

• I reflect on the work that brings this food before me; let me see whence this food comes.
• I reflect on my imperfections, on whether I am worthy of this offering of food.
• Let me hold my mind free from preferences and greed.
• I take this food as an effective medicine to keep my body in good health.
• I accept this food so that I may walk my way in enlightenment.¹⁹

Finally, contrary to the cliche, I do not think that we are what we eat, but rather the opposite, that is, we eat what we are and what we will become. Those of us who have the pleasure of dining at Wafu are fortunate to partake in food which has been respectfully and lovingly grown, and adeptly and lovingly sought out and prepared. It is a small thing, surely, to request that such an exquisite and all too rare experience as dining at Wafu be undertaken in a like manner of harmonious pleasure and respect. Respect for food is the beginning of self-respect, without which others cannot be respected, and nor can the world. If we value our past, and respect our present, we will, little by little, achieve a sustainable, pleasurable future. This, for me, is the deepest pleasure to be enjoyed while dining at Wafu: a real sense of hope.

Michael Staiff
Philologist

Notes:

• 1. Wei Chih, c.297 CE; Wei was the northernmost of the Three Kingdoms, whose rulers were eventually declared the legitimate successors of the Han.
• 2. WT de Bary (ed) et al, Sources of Japanese Tradition, Vol.1 (Columbia University Press, New York, 1964) p.3ff.
• 3. The following etymological remarks are based on Henshall’s A Guide to Remembering Japanese Characters (CE Tuttle, Tokyo, 1988), p.56, and p.126.
• 4. This is comparable with the usage of the Latin word pax, peace, which by extension can mean a realm, as in Pax Romana; cf Russian mir.
• 5. Comparable with, but more respectful than, ye olde England.
• 6. The ‘-o’ in Yamato will eventually be represented by the same kanji as wa - apt for a rice bowl - being a further extension of the synecdoche.
• 7. See Shuichi Kato, A History of Japanese Literature (Kodansha, London, 2002) pp 20-1, who points out that not only did this process occur in literature (p.4), but that more broadly ‘Japanization’ of imported world views involved the removal of any abstract theoretical aspects, the exclusion of the transcendental principle (Tien, li, Buddha, God, History) and only those parts with a practical application were retained.
• 8. T Hoover, Zen Culture, (Routledge, London, 1978) pp 182-3.
• 9. R Patel, The Value of Nothing (Black Inc, Melbourne, 2009) p.122-5; it is noted that one global activist group, La Via Campesina, The (traditional) Peasant Life, has identified combating violence against women as the key strategy in reasserting our rights to food sovereignty.
• 10. Ibid p.45, citing Popkin, specifically of China.
• 11. I have not been able to find the data to support this claim, made (I recall) by a Meat Board representative on a recent radio news item; the point being that if this 10% figure is conceded then it at least represents a base level.
• 12. Ibid, p.164. Sustainable consumption levels have been calculated to approximately 500g of meat and about 1 kg of dairy per person per week, or about 75g and 140g per day respectively. For an absolute vegan this offers the interesting possibility of trading carbon credits with meat-eaters, but presently no such model exists because of immense pressure from lobby groups advocating unhealthy and excessive consumption of meat, dairy and eggs. Only by including such provisions could an ETS stand a chance of making a real and positive environmental impact.
• 13. I Morris, The World of the Shining Prince (Kodansha, New York, 1994) pp.145-6; during the Heian-jidai (classical period, 782-1167 CE) meat was prohibited for Buddhist reasons; game birds were eaten occasionally, but as hunting was rare, these did not form an important part of the diet; butter was tried briefly at the apogee of the Heian (c 1000 CE), but was hastily rejected; during early contacts, one of the unflattering epithets given to westerners was bata-kusai, ‘butter-stinking’.
• 14. I impute no particular beliefs to Ichikawa-san by citing Buddhist traditions, nor should any implication be drawn regarding these from the following remarks.
• 15. The following remarks about the tenzo are based on, Soei Yoneda, The Heart of Zen Cuisine (Kodansha, New York, 1982) p.35-8.
• 16. The technical term describing the pleasure of tranquil contentment is katastematic. That Epicurus has been slandered by claims that he advocated gluttony is a gross injustice, for he promoted modesty in all things; gluttony and a greedy submission to every whim is properly styled Cyrenaicism. For fuller explanations and detailed analyses of Epicurean theories of pleasure, see D Gordon and D Suits (eds), Epicurus: His Continuing Influence and Contemporary Relevance (Rit Cary Graphic Arts Press, New York, 2003), in particularly p.142-152; the collection of essays is not of uniform quality, but the contributions by Armstong, Suits and Wheeler are recommended.
• 17. The queues of dejected looking consumers standing in mall food halls, or sitting in cars driving, or rather traffic jamming, thru’, seem to belie any claim to being fast, except in the sense perhaps of stuck fast.
• 18. Again, I emphasise that no imputation of beliefs is made of Ichikawa-san by quoting this prayer, nor by the following remarks. Shojin cooking principles are immensely rewarding to study, whether or not one cooks Japanese style. Macrobiotic cooking is believed to have begun from shojin practices and principles. Another of the joys of experiencing meals at Wafu is experiencing the application of shojin cooking principles: the admirable expression of The Three Virtues, the skillful application of the Six Techniques, use of the Five Colours, balance of the Six Flavours, and so on.
• 19. The translation of last reflection has been slightly rephrased: will fulfil my task of has been substituted with may walk my in; Soei Yoneda, op cit, p.38.

© 2011 Wafu

• Home ｜
• About Us ｜
• Menu ｜
• Cooking Class ｜
• Wafu 教科書  ｜
• Contact Us