Food, Obsession, Desire

There is an old proverb that goes: “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” It is said to have originated in England and expresses the idea that, to earn a man’s affection, one must serve him a sumptuous meal. Historically, men, as the metaphorical foundations of the home, have been portrayed as hard-working, or at least as paragons of hard physical labor. Because of their labor, they often return home famished. Food, then, serves as a means for them to recuperate and prepare for another day of hard labor. It is from this archaic notion that the proverb emerged, highlighting the close cultural association between love, food, and domestic care. Even before the proverb was crystallized around the 18th century, various ancient cultures had already underscored the importance of providing physical nourishment to maintain household harmony and marital loyalty. Food, after all, is also seminal to survival and affection.

After the proverb was coined, it stuck in the collective human memory, mainly because it pairs the universal act of feeding with an abstract target: the heart. It resonated across the world, allowing it to transcend time and physical boundaries. It has even been integrated into literature. One of the earliest literary references appeared in Clarissa (1748), written by Samuel Richardson, in which a character expresses his sentiments about affection and appetite. By the 19th century, the idiom had become even more prevalent. As it appeared in periodicals, cookbooks, and domestic manuals, it evolved into the popular proverb as we know it today. From the United Kingdom, it crossed the Atlantic and made its way into American periodicals, contributing to its widespread popularity. Because it highlights gender dichotomies, it also became a fixture in humor columns and domestic advice literature, often serving as light social commentary on courtship and gender roles.

As much as food has the power to build, it is also endowed with the power to destroy. Throughout history, it has been deliberately weaponized as a tool of war, colonization, and political control. Within the confines of the home, food has likewise been used as a means of gaining control. In the worst cases, it has even been weaponized to end abusive relationships. There are also numerous instances in which food has been used for sinister purposes. In criminal history, certain foods have functioned as “delivery systems” for poisons in insurance murder plots, masking the taste or scent of lethal substances. Arsenic, for instance, was added to cakes and puddings, its slightly sweet taste concealed by sugar. Meanwhile, in 17th-century Italy, Giulia Tofana sold a tasteless poison to women. The poison contained arsenic, lead, and belladonna, and could be mixed into their husbands’ food or wine to secure inheritances.

Don’t you think that’s a disease of the contemporary age? It feels like these days our value is determined by how much effort we make from day to day. That matters even more than our results. After a while, the concept of effort starts to become mixed up with things feeling difficult, and then you reach the point where the person seen as the most admirable is the one suffering the most. I think that’s the reason people are so vicious towards Manako Kajii. She refuses to live that life, refuses to suffer.

Asako Yuzuki, Butter

Food is also firmly woven into Asako Yuzuki’s novel Butter. Although she made her literary debut in 2010, many of her works remained untranslated into English for years. In 2024, her 2017 novel Batā (バター) became available to Anglophone readers as Butter: A Novel of Food and Murder, marking the first of her novels to be translated into English. The novel introduces Rika Machida, a journalist in her early thirties working for the Shūmei Weekly, a men’s magazine. Born and raised in Tokyo, Rika is the only woman in her newsroom; the other women she started working with either married, resigned, or transferred to other departments. Even the magazine’s editorial board is composed entirely of men. Rika is frequently assigned the most controversial stories. However, despite the success of her articles, she rarely receives credit for her work. Instead, the recognition is often given to the editorial board.

Nevertheless, Rika remains nonplussed by the pervasive gender bias surrounding her. Ambitious and hardworking, she routinely works late into the night. She is determined to become the first woman on the editorial board. She finds comfort in the company of her best friend, Reiko Sayama. She rarely sees her boyfriend, Makoto; he is just as career-driven as she is, though they try to spend as much time together as possible. The crux of the story, however, is the upcoming retrial of gourmet cook Manako Kajii, otherwise known as Kajimana. Three years earlier, Kajii had been convicted of murdering three of her lovers, attracting nationwide attention. Her victims shared a common denominator: they were lonely businessmen in their forties and beyond who longed for female companionship, regardless of appearance. Kajii is not conventionally attractive. It was alleged that she seduced the men through her cooking, using her extensive culinary knowledge while spending their money on luxurious items and preparing elaborate meals.

In the present, Kajimana refuses to speak to the press or entertain visitors. Rika likewise struggles to secure a meeting with her until she follows a friend’s suggestion to ask Kajimana for the recipe to her beef stew—the last meal eaten by one of her victims. The tactic works almost immediately because Kajii cannot resist sharing her knowledge of food. Rika eventually secures a meeting with Kajii at the Detention House, where she is imprisoned while awaiting retrial in the spring. Although initially reluctant, Kajii gradually opens up to Rika. After all, she longs for companionship, especially with someone who can speak with her about food. Despite not being a food enthusiast herself—she sustains herself primarily on instant ramen, convenience store meals, and salads—Rika slowly becomes drawn into Kajii’s world. What begins as a professional assignment gradually spirals into an unconventional yet intimate relationship.

The story slowly transforms into a narrative of sensory awakening, as Rika becomes increasingly fascinated by Kajii’s gourmet tastes. This turning point occurs when Kajii instructs Rika to buy high-quality butter and prepare a simple rice dish for herself. Kajii also insists that Rika report back afterward. For the first time in years, Rika uses her kitchen, cooking the rice exactly as instructed. She finds herself overwhelmed by the richness of the butter. Meanwhile, Rika continues meeting with Kajii, who offers increasingly elaborate instructions on preparing butter-rich dishes. She also recommends restaurants and pasta dishes for her “protégée” to try. At one point, Rika even bakes a cake for her boyfriend, something she has never done before. Kajii believes that Rika’s freshly baked cake will transform Makoto from a stingy lover into a generous one. In many ways, Rika slowly becomes Kajii’s conduit.

Yet I couldn’t rid myself of the sense that if I stopped moving, the merry-go-round called our family would simply cease to rotate. If I stopped moving, then I wouldn’t be loved. And if I was the one moving, then I had no proof that I was loved. What did it mean to be loved, in any case? Was it to be needed? Why, then, when I was helping people in this way, did I feel hollow and miserable?

Asako Yuzuki, Butter

Interestingly, the novel was loosely inspired by a real criminal case: the infamous “Konkatsu (Marriage-Hunting) Killer.” Born on November 27, 1974, in Nakashibetsu, Hokkaido, Japan, Kanae Kijima murdered at least four men between 2007 and 2009. Kijima frequently targeted men for financial gain, often posing as a prospective bride on online dating and marriage-hunting (konkatsu) websites. She was convicted in 2012 and has remained on death row since 2019. Like Kajii’s fictional case, Kijima’s crimes generated widespread media sensation. However, the fascination surrounding her was not solely due to her unconscionable actions. Much of the public attention centered on the physical appearances of both women. Many people believed that neither Kijima nor Kajii resembled the kind of women their victims would normally pursue romantically. Neither woman was conventionally attractive, and both were overweight.

In the novel, Kajii is not the type of woman the victims’ families imagine their murdered relatives would date. This prejudice underscores the misogyny that reverberates throughout contemporary Japanese society. Like many societies, Japan often holds women to impossibly high standards regarding physical appearance. On a broader scale, the parallel between the two cases sheds light on public perceptions of women, a theme extensively explored in Butter. Kajii unapologetically enjoys rich food, especially high-fat butter. This preference clashes with Japanese societal expectations, wherein women are expected to remain thin and therefore restrict their appetites and diets. During her imprisonment, Kajii is subjected to relentless fat-shaming by the media. Rika eventually experiences similar fatphobia.

As Rika gains weight due to Kajii’s culinary recommendations, she begins receiving criticism about her appearance from friends and colleagues alike. Her boyfriend believes she lacks self-control, while her colleagues think she is compromising her journalistic reputation. These reactions underscore the immense burden placed upon women not only in Japan but across the world. Even in the contemporary era, women continue to contend with overt fatphobia. Across Japan, advertisements and billboards promoting weight loss, cosmetic surgery, and dieting are ubiquitous, and they overwhelmingly target women. Ironically, men are rarely subjected to the same pressures. This imbalance underscores the persistence of gender bias and reflects the undertones of the patriarchal societies in which we continue to live. Even within the magazine where Rika works, men often receive credit that rightfully belongs to her. The patriarchy is intricately woven throughout the story, alongside the misogyny that accompanies it.

Aware of these societal expectations, Rika eventually attempts to temper her weight gain by eating blander foods. However, she realizes that she no longer wishes to return to her old, restrictive habits. Reiko even suggests that Rika exercise more to counterbalance her richer diet, but Rika cannot find the time. The novel subtly and astutely explores bodily autonomy, as Rika gradually seizes control not only of her narrative but also of her own body, freeing herself from the burden of societal expectations. The novel vividly captures how women are often forced into secondary roles while power remains concentrated in male hands. Female journalists, for instance, seem to have accepted their fate: many transfer to less demanding departments or leave their careers after marriage. Rika, therefore, is an anomaly—ambitious, determined, and unwilling to remain shackled by the barriers imposed upon women.

All you need to do is to eat as much of whatever it is you most desire at any given moment. Listen carefully to your heart and your body. Never eat anything you don’t want to. When you take the decision to live that way, both your mind and your body will commence their transformation.

Asako Yuzuki, Butter

Japanese women continue to contend with these gender dichotomies in the present day. Even as the #MeToo movement gained momentum across much of the world, it failed to achieve the same impact in Japan. Women were not afforded adequate space to speak openly about discrimination or sexual assault. From a young age, Japanese people are inculcated with the values of respect, harmony, and consideration for others—the proverbial ideals of Japanese etiquette. Recently, a former Japanese national volleyball player married to another national volleyball player spoke publicly about how she single-handedly manages childcare. She even admitted that she did not want their child to become a burden to her husband and believed that the household should revolve around him. Notably, she retired from national team duties to focus on married life. As Rika herself observes: “Japanese women are required to be self-denying, hard-working and ascetic, and in the same breath to be feminine, soft and caring towards men.”

Ironically, Kajii believes that women should remain subservient to men’s needs. She loathes feminism just as much as she loathes margarine. In many respects, she embodies a feminist paradox, as her philosophy directly challenges traditional feminist ideals. Kajii masters traditional feminine roles, particularly cooking, and weaponizes them against the very men who uphold those expectations. She is also deeply hedonistic, indulging in luxurious possessions and decadent food. Meanwhile, Rika is a giver who approaches every relationship as a caretaker, rarely expecting anything in return. Her narrative arc, therefore, captures several important transformations: from deprivation to appetite, from passivity to agency, and from social control to creative and bodily autonomy. In learning how to cook, Rika also reclaims the domestic sphere. The kitchen becomes a space of self-expression rather than obligation.

Interestingly, Butter was published during the period in which the #MeToo movement was gaining traction globally. Its feminist overtones are therefore unsurprising, especially given that the novel is set within a society that remains deeply patriarchal. Through the evolving relationship between Rika and Kajii, the novel confronts societal expectations of femininity, prevailing gender dynamics, body image, and the complexities of power. Although the novel functions partly as an indictment of Kajii’s character, her case also serves as a crucible through which broader issues of misogyny in Japanese society are explored. While the narrative occasionally has a tendency to meander, Butter remains a vivid, thought-provoking, and insightful exploration of obsession, appetite, and personal transformation, challenging social conventions through the indulgent and transgressive pleasures of food.

The grilled foie gras brought out next was accompanied by dried persimmons sautéed in butter. The saltiness of the butter drew out the persimmons’ clinging, pervasive flavor. So tenaciously umami-rich was their taste, it was almost impossible to believe this was fruit that had once grown on a tree. It seemed more like a sweet flaky meat – no less so than the foie gras, in fact, which was so exquisitely tender that it broke apart on the tongue, oozing thick blood-scented liquid. Though she hadn’t planned it so, the dish made a perfect match with the smoky notes of the red wine.

Asako Yuzuki, Butter
Book Specs

Author: Asako Yuzuki
Translator (from Japanese): Polly Barton
Publisher: Ecco Books
Publishing Date: 2024 (2017)
No. of Pages: 452
Genre: Inverted detective story, Suspense, Psychological

Synopsis

There are two things I simply cannot tolerate: feminists and margarine.

Gourmet cook Manako Kajii sits in the Tokyo Detention House convicted of the serial murders of only businessmen, whom she is said to have seduced with her delicious home cooking. The case has captured the nation’s imagination, but Kajii refuses to speak with the press, entertaining no visitors. That is until journalist Rika Machida writes a letter asking for her recipe for beef stew, and Kajii can’t resist writing back.

Rika, the only woman in her news office, works late each night, rarely cooking more than ramen. As the visits unfold between her and the steely Kajii, they are closer to a master class in food than journalistic research. Rika hopes this gastronomic exchange will help her soften Kajii, but it seems that Rika might be the one changing. With each meal she eats, something is awakening in her body. Do she and Kajii have more in common than she once thought?

Inspired by the real case of a convicted con woman and serial killer – the “Konkatsu Killer” – Asaku Yuzuki’s Butter is a vivid unsettling exploration of misogyny, obsession, romance, and the transgressive pleasures of food in Japan.

About the Author

Asako Yuzuki (柚木 麻子) was born on August 2, 1981, in Tokyo, Japan. As a student, she voraciously read the works of foreign authors, including Beverly Cleary’s Ramona series, Anne of Green Gables, and Judy Blume’s young adult novels. When she was in junior high school, she had a serious illness. During her recovery, she read Banana Yoshimoto’s Kitchen, convincing her to read more works of Japanese literature. She then attended Rikkyo University, where she studied French literature. Her senior thesis was about Honoré de Balzac. Post-university, she worked for a confectionery maker. She eventually quit to pursue a full-time career as a writer.

Among her first published work was the story Forget Me, Not Blue. It was published in he literary magazine All Yomimono. It won the Yuzuki won the 88th All Yomimono Prize for New Writers in 2008. In 2010, it was collected with three other connected stories in the volume 終点のあの子 (Shūten no ano ko). This was Yuzuki’s first published book. In 2011, she published her first full-length work of prose, 嘆きの美女 (Nageki no bijo). In 2013, she published 王妃の帰還 (Ōhi no kikan, Return of the Queen), ランチのアッコちゃん (Ranchi no Akko-chan), and 伊藤くん A to E (Itō-kun A to E). Itō-kun A to E earned Yuzuki her first nomination for the Naoki Prize. 本屋さんのダイアナ (2014, Honya-san no Daiana; Diana the Book Clerk) and ナイルパーチの女子会 (2015, Nairu pāchi no joshikai; Nile Perch Women’s Club) were also nominated for the prestigious prize.

Locally, Yuzuki was a successful writer. Global recognition finally arrived with her 2017 novel バター (Batā). It was also nominated for the Naoki Prize. In 2024, the novel was translated into English as  Butter: A Novel of Food and Murder, making it her first novel to be translated into English. Her 2015 novel Nairu pāchi no joshikai was also translated into English and published in 2026 as Hooked: A Novel of Obsession. It also won the 28th Yamamoto Shūgorō Prize. マジカルグランマ (2019, Majikaru Guranma; Magical Grandma) was also nominated for the Naoki Prize. Her works have been adapted for television, radio, and film. 

At the weekend, my husband would experiment with smoking bacon on blocks of bricks in the garden, or caramelising kilos of onions at a time, or making curry from scratch. The sort of cooking that men do when it’s a hobby for them, in other words. And it’s fun, all that, because it’s an experiment, a special activity you do when you have the time, and that you don’t mind spending money on.

Asako Yuzuki, Butter