Lounge
A serial killer’s eulogy to butter and passion
Summary
The connection between food and desire in Japanese writer Asako Yuzuki's best-seller ‘Butter’
“Cloaked in their mantle of amber butter, the grains shimmied and danced before her eyes. There was a sizzle as the chef poured on some soy sauce, and then the short, spirited tango was over."
I do not usually read fiction unless it concerns starships headed to deep space and devious plots to destroy the world. So, I struggled at first with this dark, somewhat eerie story about an alleged serial killer and her manipulation of men and women through rich food, more specifically, butter. But the more I descended into this eponymous novel, the harder it was to clamber out.
Apart from its delightful weirdness, Butter, the best-seller by the Japanese writer Asako Yuzuki, celebrates food without the restraints of health that people like me adopt. Yuzuki’s story spoke to me because it came at a time when I had lifted the exile of richness from my food. I indeed have a clogged artery somewhere, but after more than a decade of discipline and good health, I have loosened border controls. I use light sprinklings of ghee on my dosa and gunpowder, and I use oil more liberally in my pastas and curries. Often, I fry my fish instead of air-frying it. But butter, somehow, seemed to be a land too far.
Also read: The scarcity theatre playing out in restaurants today
“He sighed, and Rika smelled the butter and garlic on his breath. Seeing his skin and lips usually so cracked and dry, now gleaming with fat, brought Rika a sense of pride."
This sentence widened my eyes and encouraged me to consider a reacquaintance with butter. As a child, butter was standard on toast, beneath omelettes, and on dosas. When it left my life, I did not miss it—or so I thought.
It helped that Yuzuki recently visited Bookworm, my favourite bookshop in Bengaluru, and she had signed my copy of Butter. I feel obliged to read personally signed copies of books, and, so, I dived in.
Yuzuki skirts the borders of food and sex. There is little that is explicit, but there is little doubt of the connection, delivered through detail and deliciousness. The premise: Manako Kajii, a somewhat plump and plain imprisoned serial killer, appears to seduce—through rich food and domesticity—lonely businessmen and feed them to death. She cannot, she says, tolerate two things: feminists and margarine.
When it’s been available, I have used margarine, but after reading Butter I will not. Feminists, I wholly support, but I agree with Kajii that life is too short for poor substitutes when you cook.
“The butter and rosy-coloured roe combination coats each and every spaghetti strand, bringing out that delicious semolina scent and generating a flavour that feels like a wave of kindness rising up controllably from inside your chest."
Kindness, I like that. Good food is definitely linked to kindness. Not for nothing has the word hangry evolved. I admit, I do get angry when I am hungry. My daughter does too. I do not cook for stress relief, as many do. I cook because I like good food, and I feel pleasure and equanimity when it turns out well and when others agree.
Coincidentally, in the weeks Butter became a part of my daily life, I started adding butter to the daughter’s pasta. I usually use olive oil. I switched to butter on a whim because I speculated—without basis—it would make the pasta nuttier and smoother.
Also read: A unique festival in Dehradun celebrates food stories
Restaurants tend to smother their pasta in butter, but that repulses me. Butter should be used to enhance flavours not drown them. That goes well with my everything-in-moderation philosophy, so there couldn’t be a better time to bring butter back—even if I could not express it as passionately and eloquently as Yuzuki.
“The cool butter clashed against her teeth and she felt its soft texture right down into their roots. Soon enough… the melted butter began to surge through the individual grains of rice. It was a taste that could only be described as golden. A shining golden wave… washed (her) body away."
Well.
Could I really feel like that?
Yuzuki’s masterpiece introduces us to Japanese butter rice, a dish exquisitely simple, in ways inimical to the usually complex Indian approach to cooking. I tried my version of it, accompanied by a steamed fish that I tried to make as simple as the rice itself.
I’m not sure if I succeeded. I struggled for timing: getting the butter to remain cold atop the hot rice. I had no access to artisanal, salted French Échiré butter that Kajii recommends. I did find a French brand called President though. It did clash mildly with my teeth. it was soft and juicy enough to make me imagine I was one of Kajii’s unfortunate male victims—with the knowledge that I would survive. The best of both worlds. Now, that was a delicious thought.
Japanese butter rice
Serves 1
Ingredients
1 small bowl of short-grained sticky rice, cooked, about 150g
1 knob of cold butter
1 tsp of premium soy sauce
1 tsp furikake seasoning (optional)
Method
Heat the rice in a microwave until steaming hot. Drop a knob of butter on the rice. Drizzle in the soy sauce. Sprinkle with furikake if you like.
Steamed grouper
Serves 1
Ingredients
200g grouper (or any firm fish), cut into fillets
1 tbsp ginger juliennes
2 tsp light soy sauce
1 bird’s-eye or green chilli, thinly chopped
Salt to taste
Method
Pour the soy, place the chilli and ginger atop the fish, add very little salt and place it on baking paper or foil in a microwave or stove-top steamer. Steam for 10 minutes or until done.
Our Daily Bread is a column on easy, inventive cooking. Samar Halarnkar is the author of The Married Man’s Guide To Creative Cooking—And Other Dubious Adventures. He posts @samar11 on X.
