2 His contribution is to shed light on a topic that not only predates that of Cwiertka’s wide-ranging study chronologically but also exceeds her conceptual framework. While Cwiertka puts forth a strong case that modern Japanese cuisine is part and parcel of the experience of the modern Japanese nation-that its Westernization programs, imperialist wars. Colonial projects, occupation by the United States, and postwar socioeconomic change have shaped its foodways in fundamental ways-Rath correctly contends that there was a Japanese cuisine before the rise of the Japanese nation. Without disputing the centrality of the nation in Cwiertka’s narrative, Rath points out that the existence of a Japanese “cuisine,” defined as a system of preparation and consumption as well as reflection on food, existed prior to the modern Japanese nation. Arguing that, in essence, a cuisine arises in a society or culture whenever its food becomes suitable for deliberation and ingestion, Rath demonstrates with grest skill that such a consciousness of food appeared and matured during the Tokugawa period. As evidenced by the recipe collections and instructional manuals discussed in the book. Indeed, as Rath shows in staggering detail, food in Tokugawa Japan could be intended overwhelmingly for symbolic consumption so that in some instances-like the not-to-be-consumed breakfast for the emperor or the for-eyes-only dishes in aristocratic banquest-is was no longer valued for its practical benefits to the human body but only for its presentation, admiration, and signification. It was an example of conspicuous nonconsumption, in other words. When historical records clearly show that early moderm Japanese were not only cooking and eating their food but also “fantaxizing” about it, there was no question about the existence of a cuisine as a system of techniques, preferences, and symbolic references.