Japanese at a Cooking Class: Booking, Allergies and Following the Instructor

Finding and booking a class

A cooking class is a ryōri kyōshitsu, and a single session is often called a taiken, an experience, or a ressun. Listings use words like katei ryōri, home cooking, washoku, Japanese cuisine, and the name of the dish: gyōza, sushi, ramen, tempura, wagashi. Classes for visitors are usually booked online, but smaller schools and home kitchens may still prefer a phone call or a message.

The questions worth asking before you pay are the practical ones: how many people, whether English is available, what to bring, how long the class runs and what happens if you cancel. Fees, group sizes and cancellation rules vary from class to class, so ask rather than assume. Most classes provide aprons and ingredients, but some ask you to bring a hand towel or hair tie.

Allergies, diets and things you cannot eat

Say this at booking, not when the fish is already in the pan. Instructors plan a menu and shop for it in advance, and swapping an ingredient on the day is often impossible. The core sentence is the ingredient plus arerugī ga arimasu, I have an allergy to. For something you avoid by choice, use tabemasen, I don't eat, or taberaremasen, I can't eat, which is softer and covers both.

Japanese food hides ingredients in places you might not expect. Dashi stock is usually made with katsuobushi, dried bonito, so many vegetable dishes are not vegetarian. Soy sauce contains wheat. Miso can contain fish stock when sold as a ready mix. Ask directly about the sauce or the stock rather than the dish, and be specific about what you can and cannot have. The word for vegetarian is bejitarian and vegan is bīgan, but what they exclude is not always shared, so spell it out.

The instructor's verbs: kitte, mazete, itamete

Once the class starts, the instructor's Japanese collapses into a handful of te-form verbs plus kudasai. The dictionary forms help you recognise the pattern: kiru becomes kitte, cut; mazeru becomes mazete, mix; itameru becomes itamete, stir-fry; niru becomes nite, simmer; muku becomes muite, peel; ireru becomes irete, put in. In a friendly class you may hear the bare kitte or a softened kitte ne, and in a formal one kitte kudasai.

Adverbs before the verb tell you how: usuku, thinly; komakaku, finely; yoku, well; sotto, gently; hayaku, quickly. Heat levels come as tsuyobi, high heat; chūbi, medium; and yowabi, low. When you are not sure you have understood, do the first cut and ask kō desu ka, like this?

Asking how much and how long

Japanese home recipes are measured in spoons: ōsaji, a tablespoon, and kosaji, a teaspoon, counted with hai, so ōsaji ippai is one tablespoon and kosaji nihai is two teaspoons. Half a spoon is hanbun. A cup is kappu. Then come the vaguer words that frustrate learners: shōshō, a pinch; hitotsumami, a small pinch between the fingers; and tekiryō, an appropriate amount, which really means as much as you think it needs. Ask the instructor to show you the first time.

The question word for amount is dore kurai or dono kurai, how much or how long, and for time nanpun kurai, about how many minutes. When you have already added something and are not sure, kore de tarimasu ka, is this enough, or mō sukoshi ireta hō ga ii desu ka, should I add a bit more, get you a quick yes or no. For heat, hikagen wa kore de ii desu ka checks the flame.

Kitchen safety words

Two words matter more than any others: abunai, dangerous or watch out, and atsui, hot to the touch. When you hear either, stop moving and look at the instructor. You will also hear neko no te, cat's paw, the instruction to curl your fingertips under while holding food against the knife, and hi o tomete, turn off the heat. The table below covers the words most likely to come up around knives, oil and hot pans.

If you do get hurt, say it plainly: yubi o kitte shimaimashita, I've cut my finger, or yakedo shimashita, I've burned myself. Instructors keep a first-aid kit and would rather stop for a minute than have you carry on.

Tasting, complimenting and eating together

Ajimi is tasting for seasoning, and the instructor will hand you a spoon with ajimi shite mite kudasai, have a taste. The useful replies are about balance: chōdo ii, just right; chotto usui, a bit weak or under-seasoned; sukoshi shoppai, a bit salty; amai, sweet; karai, spicy or hot. Usui and koi, weak and strong, are the natural words for seasoning strength.

Most classes end with everyone eating together. Say itadakimasu before the first bite and gochisōsama deshita at the end, exactly as at a restaurant. Compliments in Japanese lean on oishii and on giving credit: sensei no okage desu, it's thanks to you. A phrase Japanese hosts love to hear is jibun de tsukuru to motto oishii desu ne, it tastes even better when you make it yourself.

Taking the recipe home

The last ten minutes are your chance to make the class useful after you leave. Most instructors give a printed recipe or send one by email, but not all do, and some prefer that you take photos of the demonstration rather than film it. Ask before filming anyone. If a seasoning was the secret of the dish, ask whether it exists abroad; instructors who teach visitors usually know which substitutes work.

• Reshipi o moraemasu ka: could I have the recipe?
• Shashin o totte mo ii desu ka: may I take photos?
• Kono chōmiryō wa kaigai de mo kaemasu ka: can I buy this seasoning abroad?
• Kawari ni nani o tsukaeba ii desu ka: what can I use instead?
• Nokori wa mochikaeremasu ka: can I take the leftovers home?
• Himochi wa dore kurai desu ka: how long does it keep?
• Kyō wa arigatō gozaimashita, totemo benkyō ni narimashita: thank you for today, I learned a lot

The leftovers question depends on the class; some pack them for you, others cannot for hygiene reasons, so accept a no gracefully. For the recipe vocabulary itself, such as measurement words, cutting styles and the names of common seasonings, the separate guide on Japanese for cooking and recipes goes into far more detail than fits here.

Mistakes and when something goes wrong

Things will go wrong in a cooking class, and that is the point. Japanese instructors are patient, but they need to hear about a problem in time to fix it. The pattern for confessing a small disaster is the te form plus shimaimashita: koboshite shimaimashita, I've spilled it; kogashite shimaimashita, I've burned it; junban o machigaete shimaimashita, I did the steps in the wrong order. Shimaimashita adds the regret that makes it sound like an apology.

If the class is moving too fast, say sukoshi hayai desu, it's a bit fast, or mō ichido onegai shimasu, once more please. If you are running late, message the host before the start time, and say okurete sumimasen on arrival.