I lived in Japan for a few years in the early sixties. I was a kid and my father was teaching at a university there. Food then was very traditional, few western foods were available, even in Tokyo. What is now thought of as Japanese food: tempura, sukiyaki and sashimi, were rarely prepared in home kitchens and were only found in restaurants. In homes, in ryokan and country-side restaurants the cuisine was very different, more seasonal and with less meat. Dishes had few ingredients but very specific, painstaking cooking techniques. Dashi and Umami nearly perfectly describes this cuisine and, in the process, strips Japanese food to its bare essentials. If the heart of French cuisine is its sauces and the basis of chinese food lies in the principal of ying-yang, dashi, the ubiquitous kelp broth, is the essence of Japanese cooking.
This wonderful book is a great corollary for its subject: simple yet deep. Graphically it is warm, yet minimal. The beautiful photographs tell exactly what you need to know but no more. Though it has only thirty-odd recipes, they are organized seasonally, precisely chosen to illustrate the concept of umami. A couple of the recipes I cook often. They remind me of my grandmother, who ran a restaurant in the Japanese ghetto of downtown Honolulu before WW2. She was from Wakayama and cooked in a regional, provincial style. Like this book, her food was odd, slightly exotic but ultimately hearty, satisfying and full of umami.