"What kind of music do you usually have here?" Elwood asks.
"Oh, we got both kinds here," the bartender responds chirpily, "we got Country and Western."
This is the kind of attitude one sees when marketing restaurants in Japan. There are two kinds of successful restaurants here: Japanese restaurants; and foreign Japanese restaurants.
Allow me to explain. If you visit pretty much any food court in any Japanese mall or shopping center, you're going to find two types of restaurants. The first type sells exclusively Japanese cuisine. They might specialize in a certain sort of Japanese cuisine, such as udon, soba, tonkatsu, sushi, or what have you, but it's going to be unapologetically Japanese food made for Japanese people the way that Japanese folks like to eat it.
The second sort of place is basically some sort of "foreign" cuisine, but with varying degrees of alteration to suit the Japanese palate. The most popular sort is, of course, Chinese food, with ramen shops being right out front. Most ramen shops bear about as much resemblance to traditional Chinese food as an Olive Garden in Lynnwood does to a cafe in Siena, that is to say, very little. The food has been changed to suit Japanese tastes.
This is true for almost all "foreign" food in Japan. Japanese Italian food is nothing to write home about. Japanese French food is okay if you're spending $300 on a meal but notso-hotso if you're trying out a little bistro. (The atmosphere is quite nice, though.) Japanese Indian food is fairly common, although very few actual Indians have restaurants here, the vast majority of shops being owned by Nepali or Bangladeshi immigrants. Japanese British pub food is about like you would expect, and Japanese Mexican food of any real quality is so rare that people jealously guard the locations of their favorite spots so that they don't get "spoiled." ("It's called 'Taco Bell,' in Shibuya. It's great; go try it.")
It seems to me that when Japanese people go out to eat, they aren't making the same decision that a Westerner makes. We start off by deciding on a cuisine, then selecting from whichever place we like best. Japanese people, on the other hand, begin by asking themselves, "Do I want Japanese food tonight, or foreign food?"
Restaurants in Japan often have a somewhat unique feature: realistic plastic models of each meal, artfully designed and colored and placed on display out front of the shop. It's like having a life-size menu to look at. (I actually think it's a great idea, because you can get an accurate idea of the serving sizes of Japanese meals, which can be at times somewhat... non-intuitive.) Customers will walk along the corridor lined with restaurants and look at each one, before deciding on actually going in. If there is a foreign restaurant, you can expect the display models to be so carefully scrutinized that they practically have eyeball marks on them. Even a simple and common foreign food, such as Pizza Margherita, will get the impassive yet thorough Examination of a Million Eyes.
Japanese people, like people from just about every country, are innately suspicious of any cuisine not their own, but they also recognize that sometimes it can be a little adventure to experience food from another country. The trick with this is that foreign restauranteurs have two options. They can make their food as authentic as possible, with ingredients, preparation, and flavors straight from the old country. This results in an amazing dining experience, for the eight months that the restaurant is in business before it goes under. Importing food items from overseas into Japan is insanely expensive and features at its core a Customs inspection process that would not have surprised Franz Kafka. At its core, the Japanese economy is not designed for the easy and streamlined import of most things. Not only that, but an authentic taste miiiiiiiight just be a little too unique for the average Japanese palate, which is tuned somewhat differently than others. Your restaurant will get good business at first, as everyone wants to try the New Thing, but you won't see a lot of repeat customers. Yes, your national specialty is uniquely delicious. That's why we're only going to eat it once.
The other thing a foreign restaurant can do is change their menu to appeal to local tastes. My favorite example of this is Denny's, which can be found fairly easily throughout Japan. What can't be found at a Japanese Denny's is a Super Bird, or a Grand Slam Breakfast, or nachos, or pretty much anything that you would find on the menu at an American Denny's. In fact, the only thing that the two menus have in common, and I am not making this up, is: Coca-Cola. Denny's changed their entire menu in Japan, every last item, and now they do a pretty good business here.
Okay, there's a third option: you can just lie. There was a rumor spread around Tokyo, when McDonald's first came to town, that eating there would give you blond hair and make you look more "American." KFC altered their whole menu to suit Japanese tastes while claiming to be "authentic." Domino's Pizza sells tuna and mayonnaise as toppings.
So what is a foreign franchisee to do? You've gone to all the trouble, scouted your location, had your grand opening. Sales spiked, and then have been sliding downhill ever since.
Here are some tips:
- Don't lower your prices. If you're a table-service restaurant, all lowering prices will do is reduce your revenue. Remember, the question the customer is asking is, "foreign or not?" They aren't asking about price points, because they don't care. If they're concerned with price points, you've probably already lost them, as you always eat more cheaply at a Japanese restaurant. Also, there's a difference between price and value, and the typical customer is keenly aware of that. A good value brings in the customers. A cheap price implies a cheap restaurant. If doing promotional meals, do things that add value, like a free dessert or salad.
- Don't assume that promotions that are successful elsewhere in the world will be successful in Japan. Even if those promotions have been successful elsewhere in Asia. Even if they were successful in Korea. I don't buy into Japanese exceptionalism; the next time someone tells me, "You know, Japan has four seasons," I might very well be moved to violence. But, when it comes to restaurants, the cultural differences here cannot be ignored. Some people assume that Asia is Asia and that all Asian cultures are the same. Wow they so totally are not. Take a careful look at what your promotion is saying and how it's being said. Especially take a look at the language of the promotion; things that might seem friendly and innocuous in another country might be terrifying, off-putting, or outright hostile when translated into Japanese. You're not just translating text; you're translating culture.
- You don't have to change the whole menu, but you're going to need to meet halfway. Do you not offer properly cooked white rice on your menu? You do now. White rice is part and parcel of the Japanese meal experience, and some customers simply refuse to eat a meal without it. Is everything on the menu slathered in molasses BBQ sauce or loaded with Sriracha? You probably need to dial the EXXXXXTREEEEEME back a notch or seven, or offer those sauces on the side. Pay attention to portion sizes, as well. Some items that might be a single serving dinner in other markets might be better positioned as a sharing platter for families here. Watch carefully what the customers order and how they eat it. If there's a dipping sauce that never gets used, or a vegetable that doesn't get touched, make a note. If there's an odd side dish that always gets ordered with a particular entree, consider making that a local combo.
- Pay attention to the competition. There is a chain of steak shops in Japan. I'm not going to name them, but they are pretty well-known. Every time I walk past one, especially around lunchtime, there is always a line out front, even though the place is half empty. I can look inside and see open booths. I asked a friend once about a similar shop in Kyoto. "Oh, that place is very famous," she said. "People always line up out front." "Oh?" I responded. "Why do people line up?" "Because it's very famous," she replied. Not a word about the food or the service or any sort of special anything. As an American, I assume that a regular restaurant with a line means that I am about to have a less-than-amazing dining experience: a line at the door means poor staffing inside, an understaffed kitchen, poorly laid-out areas, noise, crowds, et cetera. For Japanese people, a line means that the place is great. Just set out some ropes and a signup sheet in front of your restaurant. Make people wait a couple of minutes, and watch the line build up.
This is all, of course, very, very generalized. Not all Japanese people are wary of foreign food. A lot of Japanese people actively seek it out. But when you're trying to market to the general public, you're trying to hit as broad a target as possible. Keep that in mind.
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