See it, savour it, but do not put it in your mouth

IF YOU HAVE NEVER heard of ‘shokuhin sanpuru’, you are not alone. It was only after visiting an exhibition called “Looks Delicious” at Japan House in London’s High Street Kensington on its penultimate day (15 February 2025) that I realised that I had often seen examples of shokuhin sanpuru (replicas of food) without realising what they are called in Japanese.

Replica of toast with melted cheese

Japanese restaurants and eateries display lifelike replicas of the food they offer to customers. They are designed both to show the customer both what to expect and to entice him or her to enter the establishment to order and then eat their kitchen’s fare. The replicas are ‘hyper-realistic’. These mouthwatering looking models are both informative and of a commercial nature: they are designed not only to depict the dishes but also to evoke in the viewer’s mind the desire to consume them. According to the exhibition catalogue (see: https://www.japanhouselondon.uk/whats-on/looks-delicious-exploring-japans-food-replica-culture/) the origin of these replicas:

“… can be traced back to the early 20th century. As ‘Western’ cuisine grew in popularity in Japan, restaurateurs needed a way to visually communicate their menus to a curious yet cautious public. Food replicas were made entirely out of wax until the 1970s, when the introduction of synthetic resin transformed their production, allowing for greater detail, durability and more dynamic display.”

The catalogue noted:

“Every effort is made to ensure food replicas appear as realistic as possible. Food replica craftspeople not only reproduce the appearance of food; they also recreate the memory of it in people’s imaginations. For example, while red bean paste may, in reality, not be that grainy, people often associate it with a grainy texture.”

The exhibition at Japan House includes examples of replicas of many kinds of Japanese food as well as of European (‘Western’) dishes.  As the catalogue explained, the replicas are not only made to entice customers into eateries, but also for other purposes:

“Beyond their use as a marketing tool, food-replica technology also has wide ranging applications, notably in nutritional education and medical science.”

In addition, replicas can be made to be used as standards by which the appearance of actual food products and ingredients can be assessed.

The show at Japan House includes models and films showing how the replicas are created. Often the real food is coated with a liquid material that is used to make a three-dimensional impression (mould) of the dish. The food is then removed from the newly formed impression, and the detailed impression/mould is then set in a solid base of plaster of Paris. Then, wax or resin is poured into the mould to produce a replica. The replica is then carefully painted to recreate the appearance of the dish or food item. To recreate textural features, such as the delicate marbling on Wagyu beefsteak or fish scales, there are carefully prepared stencils, which can be laid on the models whilst paint is applied through the perforations in them. I have simplified the description of the manufacturing process, but rest assured that the production of these unbelievably realistic replicas can only be done by highly skilled craftsmen.

The unusually fascinating exhibition should not be viewed, as we did, when hungry. The replicas on display can only increase your desire to eat. They looked so enticing that it was difficult not to reach out and pick them up to eat. However, apart from not being allowed to touch them, as realistic as they look, they are completely inedible.

The Turk’s Head

WE DROVE TO CORNWALL along the A3, a main road that connects London with Cornwall. Soon after it leaves the capital, the road passes close to Royal Holloway College (at Egham in Surrey), a part of the University of London. The campus at Egham was founded in 1879 and officially opened by Queen Victoria in 1886. The college at Egham was founded by a philanthropist named Thomas Holloway (1800-1883).

Holloway was born in Devonport (near Plymouth in Devon). His family moved to Penzance in the 1820s. There, they ran a public house (‘pub’) called ‘The Turk’s Head Inn’. He became a manufacturer and seller of patent medicines. He was highly successful at promoting his business by advertising in newspapers. Between 1837 and 1842, he had spent more than £5000 on advertising, and as he neared the end of his life, he was spending over £50,000 per year on promoting his products. The advertising paid off. He became one of the richest men in Britain during his life. His products were clinically of dubious value, but they sold well. After his death, some of his products were taken over by Beechams Pills.

Holloway was generous with his wealth. He is best remembered for funding and building the Holloway Sanatorium near Virginia Water (Surrey) and the Royal Holloway College. The college was opened for women only. It was not until the 1960s, that it began admitting male students. It had links with Bedford College in London, where my wife’s grandmother studied in the 1920s, having sailed over from India.

Today, we visited Penzance and walked past the Turks Head Inn, which is one of the oldest (if not the oldest) pubs in the town. It is thought that this pub was first established in 1233, following the Turkish (probably Moorish) pirates attacking Penzance during the Crusades (www.picturepenzance.com/pages/Penzance-History). The pub claims to be the first in England to be named The Turks Head. The building was damaged by fire during the 16th century. What we see today is a modification of what was built after the fire.

We had travelled almost 280 miles from Egham to Penzance, mainly along the A30 (a road about which I hope to write more). Thomas Holloway must have covered this distance many a time in the past. It was fascinating to stumble across his childhood home in Penzance and thereby discover why The Royal Holloway College, which I have known of for ages, came into existence.

The whole tooth

I often wonder why dentists all over the world advertise their practices with a whole tooth, crown and roots.

Most people, apart from some with knowledge of anatomy, are aware of teeth being more than what can be seen in the mouth: the crowns of the teeth, which are covered with off-white enamel. Unless they have a tooth extracted, the majority of people never see the roots which help to keep the teeth on the mouth.

A more appropriate symbol for alerting people’s attention to a dental practice is a row of tooth crowns arranged as a smile.

Although the whole tooth might be the truth, a row of teeth as seen in the mouth should make more sense to someone seeking a dentist.

Photos taken in Hyderabad, India