Demure Ambition

Harumi Kurihara’s publishing debut offered a hint of things to come.

Her 1992 cookbook, “I Want To Hear People Say, ‘It’s Delicious,’ ” was a runaway bestseller in Japan. Since then, Kurihara has written dozens more blockbuster cookbooks with collective sales in excess of 10 million copies. She writes most of the articles and recipes in a glossy quarterly magazine and oversees four restaurants and 14 shops marketing her signature housewares products. She’s highly sought after for television appearances and product endorsements, and she recently teamed up with Procter & Gamble to headline a lifestyle Web site.

When the Japanese lifestyle maven opened a restaurant and housewares shop in Kobe last November, 10,000 women mobbed the site, a few so overcome by emotion that they started crying.

It’s no wonder she’s been compared to Martha Stewart.

While Kurihara and Stewart share many of the same interests, however, their backgrounds and approaches are very different. Stewart was inspired by a messy divorce, Kurihara by a picture-perfect marriage. The strong, confident--even intimidating--Stewart has built her empire by advising people how to live their lives. Kurihara, 54, leads by example and studiously avoids telling others what to do, all the while maintaining a cheerful, reassuring style.

“Kurihara is accessible,” says Toshiko Tsunada, author of several books on Japanese food. “Everyone feels they can be like her.”

Kurihara is self-taught--she never graduated from college, never attended cooking school. She spent decades doing dishes and laundry--a career path that rings true with many of her stay-at-home housewife fans. She eschews complicated recipes in favor of everyday dishes with a modest flair.

Her followers range in age from their teens to their 80s, but the heart of her appeal is with women in their 40s and 50s. A big part of Kurihara’s success among that group is her ability to share their world view and reassure them of their worth in Japan’s male-dominated society. More than a dozen times during a two-hour meeting, she repeats her mantra: “I’m just an ordinary shufu,” the Japanese word for housewife.

Of course, she’s anything but that these days. Her kitchen is larger than many Japanese apartments. Her husband of three decades helps with housework, has encouraged her career and shuns late-night drinking sessions in favor of quality time at home, all relative rarities among men of his generation. Kurihara’s 6-year-old company--Yutori No Kukan, with annual revenues of about $10 million last year, up 67% from 1999--has given her enormous satisfaction and an outlet for her talents, with her every suggestion copied by millions of Japanese women.

Nonetheless, she is demure about her success and ambition. Asked about the changing role of Japanese women, she retreats to the details of her own life. Queried on the comparison to Martha Stewart, she downplays her budding empire and says she could never be as dynamic or good at business as Stewart. “I’m not nearly so confident,” she says.

Asked about her many accomplishments, she insists she’s nobody special.

These can be very appealing messages in a nation where modesty, patience and the deflecting of praise onto others are considered great strengths, particularly in women. But Kurihara has another underlying message for her constituents: You can wield great control within your own four walls, something you may not be able to do outside the front door.

While many of her core home values would make American women blanch, Kurihara lives in a nation where housewife is not a dirty word. “If my husband told me to stay home, I’d just say yes and follow. I’m a shufu from beginning to end. I could quit my business today and still enjoy housework.”

Among some of the tips she considers important to her own marriage: Have a hot breakfast waiting for your husband when he wakes up. Greet his first waking moment with hot green tea and he’ll smile all day. Don’t take out your frustrations on your family. Instead, reward yourself--when you can--with a bath or cup of milk tea. Rather than complaining when he comes home from work late, precook his dinner 80% and finish it off when he walks in so it’s fresh and delicious no matter what the hour.

At the same time, Kurihara offers some appealing shortcuts in a land where people are taught from a young age to work hard and strive for perfection. It’s all right to prepare fish with a spoon rather than a fish knife. Don’t worry if the vegetables aren’t cut perfectly. It’s fine to serve leftovers. You don’t need fancy gadgets to enjoy cooking. For Americans, it all smacks of common sense. For many Japanese housewives, it’s the sound of liberation.

“Her sauces are so easy to make,” says Mutsumi Yonehara, a 39-year-old housewife in the city of Matsue, about 400 miles west of Tokyo. “She suggests very simple ingredients and uses one thing in several ways. With a small addition, I can turn a Japanese dish into something Chinese. I like the flexibility.”

Kurihara’s signature housewares products, meanwhile, aim to bring a touch of flair to the drudgery of housework. One of her biggest hits is a stylish apron for putting out the garbage. On other fronts, she has teamed up with an electronics maker on an attractive, idiot-proof microwave oven in a nation filled with complex gadgetry. And several items lead double lives--ideal for small houses during a recession--including cups that can be used as vases, saucers that also are plates and pajamas you can wear outside.

kurihara’s idealized happy- homemaker world provides a much- needed pat on the back for a generation of middle-aged women who remain in the home.

Japanese husbands do less housework on average than their counterparts in almost any other developed country. A survey by the prime minister’s office found only 1.2% of Japanese husbands helped with the laundry and just 2.8% took part in raising young children. “Japanese housewives these days feel cornered, even mentally homeless,” says author Tsunada, adding that women’s rights in Japan are 20 years behind the West’s. “People of a certain generation feel comfortable and identify with [Kurihara].” And they get a feeling of safety amid the current turmoil in Japanese society. Child abuse, juvenile murders, divorce and suicide rates are soaring; families are collapsing; and role models are becoming embroiled in scandals as the decade-long economic meltdown eats at the social order.

Kurihara’s affiliated Web site, Shufufufu.com, provides reassurance of a different sort. The site’s discussion group gives housewives a forum to voice frustrations and air concerns without fear of embarrassment. “Even what many housewives say to their friends or to other mothers isn’t really what they feel,” says Fergus Kibble, digital director of Beacon Communication, which oversees the site. “The net’s anonymity provides a chance to express their real beliefs.”

Some critics argue that because they are reinforcing traditional roles, Kurihara and her counterparts are deflecting attention from the real challenge of Japanese society: improving the position of women. In recent years, Japan has toughened its laws against domestic abuse, sexual harassment and stalking. It has brought many anti-discrimination rules closer in line with international standards, but penalties remain weak--and changing the culture is far more difficult than changing the legal structure. Japan still has fewer women in management positions and pays them less in relative terms than almost any other developed nation, even as its tax system continues to penalize second-wage earners. “Kurihara has accomplished a great deal and has real charisma. But she’s not a good role model for young women,” says Akiko Okuda, gender studies professor at Otsuma Women’s University. “Both Japanese partners should work and help around the house. Only Japan is bucking this international trend.”

Nonetheless, Kurihara’s books still sell, her appearances are mobbed, and the money rolls in.

kurihara was born in a small fishing village southwest of Tokyo, the only daughter of a printing factory manager. Her mother and role model was from the old school and cooked every meal herself, waking up hours before the family and dressing neatly in a kimono, habits she keeps at age 79. “By comparison, I have it easy,” Kurihara says. Much of her philosophy stems from the experience of her childhood. The family always ate together, the key to a happy home, she says. Her father frequently brought guests home on short notice; Kurihara suggests that housewives be 70% ready at any given time for surprise visitors.

When Kurihara was in her early 20s, she attended a party by a worldly young man with a second home in the area. The host, Reiji Kurihara, who turned out to be her future husband, enjoyed a large circle of friends and cooking Western style. The overseas influence was something of a culture shock, given her traditional upbringing. “My husband even wants to wear his shoes inside the house,” she says. “He’s like a foreigner.” But it also introduced her to new ideas.

Reiji Kurihara, who is president of Yutori No Kukan (leaving his wife to oversee the creative side), says she was incredibly attentive and good at housework from the beginning. When they first met, he enjoyed winter fishing; she had no interest. “But she would stand out on the rocks beside me in the cold and wind, shivering, holding a hot teapot for me. She always tries so hard.”

He was a television anchorman during the early years of their marriage, while Harumi remained at home raising their son and daughter. In a break with many people of his generation, however, Reiji shunned Japan’s male drinking culture and the endless speculation about bosses and colleagues. Instead, he often invited guests home for dinner parties. Over the years, Kurihara’s reputation as a good cook and homemaker blossomed with his media friends.

He encouraged her to start working outside the house while she was in her early 30s. She says he refused to use his media connections to launch her career, but the exposure to his high-powered crowd didn’t hurt. Kurihara started doing small cooking jobs, writing occasional recipes for magazines, teaching a bit of cooking. “I was delighted to make my first paycheck,” she recalls. “I’d never even had a part-time job.”

In 1995, the Kuriharas launched Yutori No Kukan, their first restaurant and housewares store, and they have since added several in Japan. Last year they started marketing licensed products in department stores. And she’s now thinking about designing a line of clothes.

But Martha may be hot on her hem. Sensing enormous opportunity in the affluent Japanese market, Stewart started marketing products in 200 supermarkets nationwide in September. Her own store in Tokyo’s upscale Ginza area was scheduled to open Nov. 1. She plans to publish her Martha Stewart Living magazine in translation beginning next March and is now broadcasting her television show four times a day in Japan. Her sales target is more than $85 million in the first year.

Kurihara has made her career helping others take life a little easier. According to her husband, however, she sometimes has difficulty following her own advice. The company could rival Martha Stewart’s if Kurihara would delegate more. “If she did that, though, she’d lose the personal touch and feel like she was betraying her fans, so I leave it to her,” he says. “She’s still the same woman waiting for me, shivering with the teapot. She’s a perfectionist. She can’t let go.”

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Makiko Inoue in the Tokyo bureau contributed to this story.