by Masaharu Goto and Nils Ohnesorge

While the first official diplomatic relations between Japan and Germany date back to 1861, today’s generation of Japanese and Germans are more deeply connected than ever before through tourism, exchange programs, video games, anime or even the sushi restaurant around the corner. Over 9,000 km away from his home in northern Japan – Masaharu came to Berlin to study in Germany. He may be far from home, like many people, but the memories of Japanese home cooking are still close to him – they make him nostalgic. In the following interview, we record his fight against homesickness and his culinary journey.

Nils: Since you intend to stay here in Germany for a couple of years – how did you prepare yourself? Did you experience any inconveniences so far?

Masaharu: Well, the preparations were difficult for me: finding accommodation, enrolling at university and so on. And because of the weight restrictions for my luggage on the plane, I couldn’t bring any Japanese food to Germany – since I can’t buy many Japanese items here, my life became unexpectedly difficult.

Nils: How about food? Can you share any experiences or difficulties you encountered so far? Masaharu: Both countries have totally different food cultures. Good examples are rice and bread: While Japanese people prefer eating rice, German people usually eat bread. I do like German bread, but I really miss Japanese rice! Globalisation made it easier to buy foreign products in other countries, however, these items are still expensive and usually only available in big cities. In Berlin, I have relatively easy access to Asian ingredients, but in Trier, where I lived six years ago, Japanese rice is an unattainable luxury for poor students like me. That’s why I usually eat Milchreis (a type of round grain rice) instead of Japanese rice. But I feel uncomfortable because its taste is far from what I would eat every day in Japan. This is something that worries me at the moment.

Nils: Oh, you’ve experience living in multiple places within Germany! You must have encountered some differences then?

Masaharu: Yes. In my opinion, people in Berlin eat much more fish than those in Trier. I guess it is because Berlin is closer to the sea, and many fishing companies can bring fresh ingredients to the city. Besides that, there are a lot of people from diverse backgrounds in Berlin. So, I can enjoy roaming around the city and find international dishes from East Asia, Turkey or Africa! On the other hand, I also love trying local dishes. Both cities are attractive!

Nils: You might be getting a bit nostalgic about your home. Is there something that you miss from Japan?

Masaharu: Yeah, I really miss Japan. Many people would imagine sushi and ramen when they are asked “What is Japanese food.” I can eat those famous Japanese dishes in Berlin, even though they are expensive here. But I am actually craving homemade Japanese food, such as nikujaga (simmered meat and potatoes) and saba no miso-ni (mackerel simmered in miso)! I can buy them everywhere in Japan, but here, their absence makes me feel homesick.

Nils: How do you adapt to this feeling here in Germany? I assume the lack of konbini (convenient stores) is not that easy to manage?

Masaharu: Fortunately, I love cooking Japanese food, so I always cook at home. Although I can’t buy all the Japanese products in Berlin, it is possible to enjoy some dishes even with the limited number of ingredients or the ‘hard’ German water. On the other hand, when seeking ‘authenticity’ in a restaurant, I need to give up having a great meal or – otherwise – pay a lot. Personally, I don’t use konbini so much since the price of the products has recently gone up. Instead, I used to visit affordable drugstores like Tsuruha to buy frozen food.

Nils: I see. So, you cook for yourself a lot?

Masaharu: I have to admit, the taste of German food is stronger than the Japanese. My family cares about health – and I am the same. So, when I cook meals for myself, I always check out the nutrition beforehand and aim to maintain my health through food.

Nils: Finally, I’d like to ask if you have any recommendations for people going abroad on how to adjust to their new life? Any sure-fire strategies?

Masaharu: Different countries have different food cultures! I believe, we need to respect our counterparts first. Though, at the same time, I understand that life abroad is quite tough to get accustomed to. I had that experience. But if you cook for yourself, such obstacles may disappear. Generally speaking, you are now able to buy the ingredients of your culture easily compared to the past. Thank you, globalisation! But behold! Before you travel abroad, I strongly recommend you practise cooking in advance!

Food is a crucial factor in creating an identity and creating a home. The interview with Masaharu shows not only how the globalization of food offers new opportunities to engage with different cultures, but also some difficulties: Prices are different, specialty supermarkets are not accessible in small towns and “authenticity” varies. Masaharu battles homesickness and often cooks for himself as he misses everyday Japanese cuisine. His experiences show that although the world is now (more) global, (re)inventing a home by (re)creating beloved food is not always easy...

Masaharu Goto and Nils Ohnesorge are students in the Master program Global East Asia at Freie Universität Berlin.

by Karo, Myrna and Diana

On a Tuesday evening in November, the three of us decided to cook three different dishes selected from the internet to fulfill one of our assignments for the class “Globalization of East Asian Cuisines”. First, we watched various videos on TikTok and Instagram by looking up the hashtags #chineserecipes, #koreanrecipe, #japaneserecipe, and we scrolled until we found three vegetarian recipes that looked delicious and seemed like small dishes. For the Japanese recipe, we decided to cook a lotus pancake and a rice cake cheese skewer was the winning Korean dish. We found both recipes on TikTok. In addition, we selected a Chinese tofu dish from Instagram. The recipes were easy to follow as the videos we selected included the instructions in the description of the post or in the video itself. All recipes were described by the authors as quick and easy to prepare with few ingredients.

The recipe for the lotus pancake was posted by @ayaka_hakko on TikTok. It is a Japanese account and all the posts seem to be related to Japanese food. The account is very popular with more than 30k followers. The comments under the posts are all in Japanese and most praise how easy and good the dish looks. The recipe for the rice cake skewer was posted by @bamboooyah on TikTok. The account mainly features Korean food, both home-cooked and restaurant dishes, and has around 225k followers. The comments are mostly in English and focus on either asking about the sauce used to coat the skewers or how delicious and crispy they look. The tofu recipe was posted on Instagram by SBS Food, a 24/7 food channel for the Australian public that focuses on simple, authentic and everyday food inspiration from different cultures. The account has 328k followers on Instagram. The comments under the posts are all in English and sometimes only contain emojis. Some comments either tag people or say that it looks delicious.

Our mission was to try and see if it was possible to replicate these authentic recipes in Berlin. And the outcome was very positive since we were able to find all of the ingredients at either a supermarket or an Asian grocery store. But before we went to any stores, we checked what we already had at home. In the end, we only had to get some onions, garlic, cheese, sesame and scallions from the supermarket, and Szechuan peppercorns, gochujang, tofu, lotus root and rice cakes from the Asian grocery store. We were able to find all the ingredients, but encountered some problems with the lotus root. Initially, we wanted to buy fresh lotus root, but had to buy some pre-peeled, packaged lotus root instead. Our total bill for the food was 30€, including some additional costs for drinks.

The next step was to prepare all the ingredients and cook them. Two people prepared the ingredients by cutting the lotus root, peeling and slicing the garlic, dicing the cheese and defrosting the rice cakes, while one person weighed the ingredients such as sesame seeds or measured out all the liquid ingredients. All three dishes required some cooking, so we started by preparing the three sauces for the Chinese tofu dish. For the sesame sauce, we had to roast sesame seeds, heat some neutral oil for the chili oil and sauté garlic with soy sauce and sugar for the garlic jam. Once we had drained the tofu and prepared the three types of sauce, we were able to plate this first dish. The second dish we prepared was the lotus pancakes. The freshly cut lotus root was tossed in a mixture of garlic, onions and potato starch and seasoned with a little salt and pepper. After heating some oil in a pan, half of this mixture was added to the pan in slices and topped with some cheese. The second half of the lotus root was then carefully placed on top, and once the cheese had melted the two layers together, we flipped the pancake, which was surprisingly more difficult than it sounds. We sprinkled the pancake with the remaining cheese and fried it for a few more minutes until we were ready to plate this dish as well. For our final dish, the Korean cheese and rice cake skewers, we took the defrosted rice cakes and cheese, which we had cut into similar sized pieces, and skewered them onto metal skewers, also known as roulade pins. These skewers were then placed in a medium-hot pan and turned over once the cheese was crispy. Before serving, we coated the fried skewers with a spicy chili ketchup sauce and garnished them with some leftover roasted sesame seeds.

In general, cooking Asian dishes is a great way to connect with Asian culture, overcome cultural differences and learn more about each other. Berlin as a multicultural city encourages people to engage with each other in a variety of ways. For this experiment, we found that cooking East Asian dishes here in Berlin is a great way to engage with other cultures in a respectful way. Gathering the ingredients was relatively simple and straightforward, and thanks to the detailed descriptions on social media, it was also easy to follow the cooking instructions. With globalization affecting all areas of our daily lives, it is only natural to look into the globalization of East Asian food and our consumption of East Asian products and lifestyles. Social media makes this very easy. For those interested, we have linked the original recipe videos so you can try for yourself how easy it is to cook authentic East Asian dishes in your hometown. Have fun cooking!

References:

Japanese Lotus pancake: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNe3WE7SL/

Korean Cheese-Ricecake skewers: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNe37d8XD/

Chinese three sauce tofu: https://www.instagram.com/tv/CiJWoObJxef/?igsh=dDhhaW90cjdhcnly

Karo, Myrna and Diana are students in the Master program Global East Asia at Freie Universität Berlin.

by Daniel Ivanov

Authenticity in food is a complex and often debated concept, rooted in the idea of preserving the cultural, historical and regional identity of a dish. But is it about strict adherence to traditional recipes, the use of locally sourced ingredients or the spirit and intention behind the cooking? When transplanted into the context of food globalization, authenticity becomes a fluid concept, shaped by local tastes, the availability of ingredient and cultural interactions. Japanese food producers in Berlin, for instance, experience authenticity differently – some feel inauthentic when adapting dishes to local demands for more vegetarian and vegan options, while other embrace fusion as an authentic expression of their craft. Authenticity in food, or rather the notion of it, turns out to be subjective because it is shaped by the personal and professional backgrounds of those involved in its creation, from chefs to consumers (Reiher 2023).

But what if you’ve experienced a certain cuisine in so many different ways that you’re no longer sure what “authentic” is supposed to taste like? This was exactly my case with Chinese food. My first encounters with it took place in Bulgaria, where I grew up. As a child, I had no reason to question the deep-fried chicken drenched in sweet and sour sauce – it was delicious and that was all that mattered. Years later, however, I found myself in Yokohama’s Chinatown with a group of Chinese friends, and my idea of Chinese food was turned upside down. The menu looked nothing like what I had known, and when the food arrived, I was even more surprised – so many dishes were spicy! I casually mentioned that I had never thought of Chinese food as particularly spicy. The response I got back from my friends was something in the lines of: “This? This is nothing! The real thing is way spicier. This is not very authentic Chinese food. They tone it down for Japan.” Since that day, I have been wondering how spicy “authentic” Chinese food is. Back in Berlin, armed with curiosity, a big appetite, a fondness of spice and a healthy dose of skepticism, I took on a mission to find out.

Keeping the ambiguous nature of authenticity in mind, I set on a mission to find some Chinese food that would satisfy my craving for the spicy kick that Chinese food can give. Hi! Chili 海椒 (Sichuan Tapas Bistro), located in Prenzlauer Berg, Berlin, opened its doors in late 2024 and has since garnered a 4.9-star rating on Google Maps with glowing reviews in multiple languages. The restaurant is co-owned by two women coming from Chongqing and Chengdu, two of China’s spice capitals, and it prides itself on bringing the bold flavors of the owners’ hometowns to customers in Berlin. The online reviews painted a picture of near-universal acclaim: “rich in flavor”, “nice seasoning”, “delicious” and even praise the food in Chinese (which is always a good sign). But could all this praise withstand the scrutiny of my own expectations?

I arrived at the small restaurant in the early afternoon on a windy January day with a friend. Scanning the menu, we discovered that this place offers a variety of Sichuan dishes, adorned with a chili symbol indicating their spice level. The three-tiered system (one, two or three chilis) promised varying degrees of spiciness. Being a little cautious, my friend and I ordered the Peas and Pork Mince Noodles (one chili) and paired it with Crispy Pork Bites that came with the homemade chili powder dip from the tapas section. The food looked promising. The noodles glistened in a sauce that hinted at Sichuan’s signature umami-laden spice mix and the pork bites were fried to a tantalizing crisp. But how spicy was it?

Before ordering, we had asked the waitress (who turned out to be one of the owners) whether their spice levels were calibrated for German customers or stayed true to Chinese standards. She smiled and admitted that they didn’t adjust it to suit local taste. True to her word, the noodles had a pleasant, slow-building heat with a touch of Sichuan peppercorn’s signature numbing effect. It wasn’t overwhelmingly fiery, but it was far from the watered-down, almost non-existent spice levels often found in Westernized Chinese restaurants. The pork bites’ crispy exterior and seasoning, combined with the rich-in-flavor chili powder dip, complemented the noodles perfectly, creating a well-rounded dining experience. The owner later mentioned that many of their spices were imported directly from China to maintain the authentic flavor – a detail that showed in every bite.

In summary, it can be said that Hi! Chili 海椒 succeeds in offering a piece of Sichuan and Chongqing in Berlin. Those who are afraid of being overwhelmed by the spiciness will find the chili scale a helpful guide. For lovers of spice, there is enough heat to keep things interesting without scorching the taste buds. Ultimately, “authenticity” and “spiciness” are two subjective concepts and are perceived differently by, for example, a homesick expat looking for a piece of home, a chef interpreting tradition through a contemporary lens, or a curious diner discovering flavors for the first time. The judgment of “authenticity” and “spiciness” often reflects not so much the food itself, but the experiences and expectations of those who eat it. Ultimately, I can only say that the food I ate at Hi! Chili 海椒 did not disappoint me. As for the question of how spicy “authentic” Chinese food in Berlin is, I’d rather leave that judgment up to you.

References:

Reiher, C., 2023. Negotiating authenticity: Berlin’s Japanese food producers and the vegan/vegetarian consumer. Food, Culture & Society 26(5): 1056-1071.

Daniel Ivanov is a student in the Master program Global East Asia at Freie Universität Berlin.

by Lisa Hetterling

Crack, snap, and crunch. A chef knife loudly cuts through a green head of Napa cabbage without hesitation. Viewers are thrown straight into the action; this is how many of Logan’s TikTok videos start. On a platform where creators have mere seconds to capture the viewers’ attention, this startling tactic has proven to be an effective signature. For anyone like me, who has ever looked for Korean food inspiration in English, encountering one of Logan’s videos seems almost inevitable. Logan Moffitt, known as @logagm on TikTok, @logansfewd on Instagram, and @logaagm on YouTube, has amassed over ten million followers across platforms. With his obsession for cucumbers and many viral recipes to match, he has earned quirky nicknames like “the most hydrated person on TikTok” and “the cucumber guy” (Chesanek 2024; Santos 2024). However, by a more specific audience and commenters, he’s affectionately called names like “Daehan Logan.” This clever play on words combines his name with Daehan Minguk, the Korean term for South Korea. Such nicknames did not come by him lightly. According to interviews, the 24-year-old from Canada started cooking at around 14, motivated by demanding swim practices and a craving for food not typically found on a traditional Canadian menu (Ganz 2024). Sometimes using recipes, sometimes store-bought, Logan seamlessly incorporated Korean staples into his daily meals over time. With skill and dedication, he prepares traditional Korean dishes like kimchi jjigae (a spicy chili and meat stew), mul–naengmyeon (refreshing, ice-cold buckwheat noodle soup), and many more. While he explores cuisines from other cultures as well, Korean dishes take centre stage in most of his videos.

Logan’s videos are not just about cooking, they’re a crash course in culinary confidence, especially for a social media content creator. By tackling spice levels that leave his commenters nervously sweating or by casually fermenting his own kimchi, he turns unfamiliar techniques and dishes into something more approachable and intriguing. From breaking down fermentation stages to sharing tips on using various types of kimchi in the right dishes, his content, as his many Korean comments attest, combines “insider” expertise with an effortless charm. His nonchalant aura and straightforward, unexaggerated approach captivate both Western and Korean audiences. His laid-back demeanour and unbothered reactions are especially notable when addressing critiques of his recipes, the “exotic” ingredients he uses, or cultural differences like him slurping noodles in certain dishes. While slurping might be considered impolite in many Western cultures, in Korea, it’s simply a non-issue. He first gained attention for his homemade kimchi, and a refreshing cucumber kimchi salad, followed more recently by a California roll-inspired cucumber salad. The latter even landed him an interview with The New York Times, where he cited Maangchi, a prominent figure among Korean food content creators, as his biggest inspiration (Kim 2024). His recipes, whether traditionally Korean or adapted to his personal taste, consistently incorporate key elements of Korean and East Asian cuisine, such as sesame oil and seeds, soy sauce, aekjeot (fish sauce), ssal-sikcho (rice wine vinegar), gochujang (red pepper paste), and often a generous sprinkle of MSG.

One of Logan’s catchphrases, “MSG, Obviously,” has sparked both amusement and debate (Ganz 2024; Santos 2024). Monosodium glutamate, commonly known under the brand name “Miwon” in Korea, is a staple in many Asian cuisines. The flavour enhancer brings out umami, the savoury flavour that defines dishes like tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes), ramyeon (instant noodles, and thickens countless Korean soups and stews. While many viewers praised his unapologetic use of MSG, others reacted with disdain or confusion, underscoring lingering stereotypes and misinformation about Asian cooking. Like this, Logan inspires broader conversations about cultural perceptions of food. By normalizing MSG and highlighting its culinary value, he challenges prejudices and encourages audiences to appreciate the nuances of Korean cuisine. Logan’s content goes beyond recipes. His frequent trips to Korea, documented in travel vlog-style videos, showcase the cultural and social connections behind Korean food. From eel fishing on the coast to visiting cucumber and salt farms, sharing drinks over samgyeopsal (Korean pork BBQ), his activities highlight the labour, skill, and relationships involved in food production and consumption. These experiences counter the abstraction often seen with East Asian food on social media. Ingredients like live octopus or gopchang (grilled intestines), are frequently presented as shocking or extreme, catering to spectacle rather than understanding. Especially spicy foods are framed as exotic novelty or dare-worthy rather than appreciated for their cultural significance. By engaging with these ingredients and dishes authentically, he repositions them as part of a larger narrative, encouraging audiences to move beyond surface-level reactions and trends.

Logan’s approach also exemplifies the concept of “Glocalization,” coined by sociologist Roland Robertson. Glocalization refers to combination of global and local elements to create something completely new that resonates with diverse audiences (Robertson 1992). Logan’s recipes, like his kimchi margarita, kimchi jam, and blue cheese jjigae, are creative adaptations of Korean staples with Western influences. While some of his more adventurous experiments provoke mixed reactions, they also demonstrate how globalization can transform food into a shared cultural experience that transcends national borders.

References:

Chesanek, Carissa. “TikTok’s Viral ‘Cucumber Guy’ Shares 5 Recipes Featuring His Favorite Vegetable.” RealSimple, 26 Aug, 2024. https://www.realsimple.com/ways-to-eat-cucumber-logan-moffitt-tiktok-8695826.

Ganz, Stephanie. “How TikTok’s ‘Cucumber Guy’ Created the Summer’s Best Recipe.” AllRecipes, Aug 22, 2024. https://www.allrecipes.com/tiktok-cucumber-guy-logan-moffitt-interview-8699259.

Kim, Eric. “Ask TikTok’s ‘Cucumber Boy’ How to Prepare a Cucumber.” The New York Times, Aug 15, 2024. https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/14/dining/tiktok-cucumber-guy-logan-moffitt.html.

Robertson, Roland. “Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture.” Sage Publications, 1992. Santos, Claudia. “Millions Of People Are Eating An Entire Cucumber In This Viral TikTok Trend, So I Tried It To Find Out If It’s Worth The Hype.” BuzzFeed, Sep 9, 2024. https://www.buzzfeed.com/claudiasantos/cucumber-salad-tiktok-recipe.

Lisa Hetterling is a student in the Master program Global East Asia at Freie Universität Berlin.