It was at a research meeting in mid-August 2025. One researcher presented a report on Yakiniku Culture as a cultural aspect of Zainichi Koreans. She stated, for example, that Zainichi Koreans stock portable grills for yakiniku at Chosen schools in Japan, reporting on the strong affinity between yakiniku and Zainichi Koreans. As I am a complete layperson regarding the food culture of Zainichi Koreans, I could only listen attentively. Of course, I could imagine that reducing Zainichi Korean culture to yakiniku would only reinforce stereotypes, but I nevertheless listened carefully, trying to grasp the intent of the research.

After the presentation ended, I was the first to take the floor. The presenter’s research suggests that Zainichi Koreans are indeed familiar with yakiniku. However, does that mean every Zainichi Korean participates in that culture? It is certainly true that some Zainichi Koreans operate pachinko parlors. Yet it would be equally mistaken to assume that all Zainichi Koreans have an affinity for pachinko. Likewise, it may also be true that Koreans are fond of kimchi. Each of these observations might appear valid on its own, but when combined, they create a contradiction. I pointed out to the presenter that this structure of contradiction closely resembles the Penrose triangle: locally it “seems to hold,” but taken as a whole it forms an impossible shape.

I offered a gentle critique: while affinity for yakiniku, pachinko, or kimchi may each reflect a certain reality, the composite image of Zainichi Koreans defined by these elements is a stereotype—something that does not exist in actuality. In other words, defining a culture narrowly through such markers as food is where the contradiction begins.

However, a renowned researcher on Buraku issues who was present at the meeting requested to speak. She addressed the meat-related food culture of the Buraku. Specifically, she discussed a byproduct of the meat industry commonly known as senjigara or aburakasu (oil residue). This refers to the so-called waste material—pig offal and other byproducts from slaughter—that, after being heated to extract oil, was repurposed as food. From the narrative that it once served as a precious food source for impoverished Burakumin, a popular belief spread that it was a common food among Buraku communities in general. As soon as this topic was raised, the discussion grew animated. Participants began talking about how things were done at this or that slaughterhouse, or how the product from such-and-such Buraku was said to be of superior quality. Although the debate included activists and researchers from the Buraku Liberation Movement as well as schoolteachers, what unfolded was lively but amounted to little more than casual chatter, bearing almost no relation to academic discourse.

I have long argued, with empirical evidence, that very few people within the Buraku have ever been involved in meat production, and that it should not be represented as part of Buraku culture. Yet listening to this vulgar exchange, I understood why such a vulgar discourse persists.

The next day, when I discussed this topic with a researcher friend of mine from a Buraku background, she confirmed my impression: researchers from outside the Buraku invariably delight in “meat talk,” and it always generates enthusiasm. The culprits behind the stereotypes had at last come into view.

Senjigara / Aburakasu: A byproduct of the meat industry, typically made from animal offal that was boiled to extract oil, leaving behind residue that was eaten as food. It was historically framed as a resource used by Burakumin who worked at the slaughterhouses, and it became associated with stereotypical discourse about Buraku food culture. There were/are many Burakumin who hate it.

Penrose triangle: An “impossible object” in geometry—locally consistent but globally contradictory—used here as a metaphor for stereotypes that may seem valid in isolation but collapse when combined into a total image.