Book Review: The Kamogawa Food Detectives

If you approach the Higashi Honganji temple, continue walking down the street, ask for directions, and turn around the corner, you will see a drab and patchy building. This is the Kamogawa Diner, a supporting character to the real star, the Kamogawa Detective Agency. 

The book revolves around a memorable father-and-daughter duo. The former started the restaurant after quitting the police force. His impeccable taste and appreciation of the culinary art are also seen in his daughter, Koishi. Unlike regular detective organisations, Koishi and Nagare Kamogawa receive customers who want to taste a particular dish that they encountered in their past. The culinary mystery unfolds through intense descriptions of food (that may make you long for snacks), unique backstories of the clients, and heartwarming Japanese hospitality.

Every chapter starts with the introduction of the client, who has approached the setting, always the Higashi Honganji temple and the trees behind it. The client somehow manages to find this elusive diner, and the case begins. After reading two chapters, I started noticing the similarities with the beginnings, making the structure formulaic. To prevent the monotony of the chapter from breaking in, the author exposes the format and the setting to different seasons. As the chapters progress, the texture and colour of the tree’s leaves adjust to the weather. The intro also tells us about the character’s personality from their perspective of the temple, and the tree, which tells us about their situation, or could reveal a bit of their past.

My interpretation of what the restaurant looks like when one approaches it.

The detective element is seen when Koishi establishes that the detective agency is a room that is not part of the Kamogawa diner. There is also a ‘Cop show’ sort of feeling when Koishi interrogates the clients, who provide minimal information about their dish, making the case more challenging. The next scene is two weeks later, where the dish is already assembled, and Nagare merely describes how he procured the ingredients. While the author may have done this to keep the story concise, I found this time gap very odd, and I wanted to see the on-field investigation of how they recreated a seemingly lost recipe, rather than a recollection of the process.

Since the book has been translated from Japanese to English, the language used is simple, and there are short sentences along with many dialogues. Normally, the translated version cannot capture the imagery and description of the book as it was in its original language. However, the reader could almost imagine the aromas from the kitchen and how the client felt while eating. This phrase, even with its simple wording, does that.

“A rush of warmth filled his body, freezing cold just a moment ago, and a light sweat formed on his forehead. He extracted a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed at his brow and cheeks.”.

Notice that the word ‘extracted’ portrays that the handkerchief is picked up carefully and daintily. 

On the knowledge aspect, this book is filled with bizarre Japanese dish names like ‘Ebi-imo taro’ (a shrimp-shaped vegetable) or ‘Kyobancha’ (roasted Japanese green tea) that you can try pronouncing, googling, or using as a tongue twister. I also learnt interesting habits and traditions of the Japanese, such as paying respect to one’s food and bowing to the chef. The Japanese also do not regard the end of the meal as a ‘dessert’.