Updated October 15, 2026 | By Tokyo Paul
Walk past almost any casual restaurant in Japan and there is a good chance a glossy plate of tempura, a tower of parfait, or a bowl of noodles with perfectly lifted chopsticks is sitting in the window. These are shokuhin sampuru, usually shortened to sampuru: food replicas made so convincingly that many visitors lean in for a second look. They are practical, they are a respected craft, and they have become a fun souvenir category in their own right. The story of how they began is also more colorful than most people expect, because the sources do not entirely agree on who deserves the credit.
According to Wikipedia's entry on the topic, food sellers in late Edo-period Japan already displayed a plate of real food each day in place of a written menu, and in the late 1920s artisans and candle makers developed food models so patrons could order without relying on a menu, which were uncommon in Japan at the time. A model in the window works like a picture menu that never needs translating. A diner can see the portion size, the toppings, and the colors before walking in.
The Embassy of Japan in Singapore, in a cultural magazine feature on the subject, notes that replicas were made before color photography became common, as a way to show diners what a restaurant actually served. The same article says the replicas later helped tourists get past language barriers during the 1980s tourism boom. For travelers today, that same function still works: you can point at the plate you like and the staff will understand right away.
Ask where food models came from and the name that appears most often is Takizo Iwasaki. The Embassy of Japan magazine describes him as a Gifu Prefecture native who is often credited as the pioneer, and it tells a tale in which he was inspired by melted candle wax. His candle-wax replica of omurice (the rice-filled omelet) was convincing enough that his wife thought it was the real dish, and it was later displayed at an Osaka department store restaurant. Wikipedia lists Iwasaki as the founder of Iwasaki Be-I in 1932, and describes the company as the biggest plastic food manufacturer in Japan.
Other accounts add different details. A TODAY feature on Japanese fake food lays out three competing theories. In one, a former Shimazu Corporation employee named Soujiro Nishio reportedly made the first models in Kyoto in November 1917. In another, the cafeteria of the Shirokiya Department Store hired a maker to replace perishable real food on display. In the third, Iwasaki, who ran a bento shop in Osaka, is credited with the first model, an omelet so realistic his wife could not tell it from the real thing. The same article calls Iwasaki the "father of the fake food model industry."
Smithsonian Magazine, meanwhile, places the start of sampuru in Gujo Hachiman in 1917 and credits Iwasaki, while openly noting that "the legend is up for debate" about what inspired him, with a wax anatomical model and candle drippings both mentioned as possibilities. The Smithsonian piece adds that after World War II the models helped American soldiers who could not read menus point to what they wanted.
The takeaway for curious readers is simple: Iwasaki is widely treated as the central figure, wax was the first material, and the exact year and city depend on which account you read. That uncertainty is part of the charm, and it makes a nice conversation starter while you wait for a table.
The early models were wax, and the shift to other materials came because wax and sunlight do not get along. Smithsonian Magazine notes that wax melted in Japan's hot sun, so makers changed materials. Wikipedia adds that paraffin wax was used until the mid-1980s, and that its colors faded in heat or sunlight, which led manufacturers to move to polyvinyl chloride (PVC), described there as "nearly eternal."
The process itself is hands-on. Based on the sources, it generally goes like this:
Reference: A restaurant sends photos or actual dishes to a producer. The Embassy of Japan magazine says craftsmen study the real food served at each store so details such as the browning on eggs or the doneness of a steak can be reproduced.
Mold: Wikipedia explains that molds are made by dipping real food in silicone. If a real sample is not available, or would melt during casting, a clay model is sculpted instead.
Casting: Liquid plastic is poured in and heated until it hardens. Smithsonian Magazine describes hot liquid being poured into warm water and shaped by hand.
Painting: The finished pieces are painted by hand or airbrush. The Embassy of Japan magazine mentions oil-based paints and a final glaze coat that helps resist dirt.
Assembly: Multi-part dishes are put together from separate pieces, and some makers even pipe melted plastic onto cakes to look like icing.
It is skilled work. Justin Hanus, who runs the workshop Fake Food Japan in Osaka, is quoted by Smithsonian Magazine saying that learning the craft takes years of apprenticeship, with an estimate of at least three years and around five years to reach an accepted quality level. The same article says a single sample can last about seven years, which helps explain why restaurants treat the models as an investment. Wikipedia reports that a single restaurant may order a full menu of plastic items for over one million yen, so prices for custom sets can be significant (check current prices with any maker).
Gifu Prefecture is the heartland. Wikipedia notes that factories can be found in Gujo, Gifu, and Smithsonian Magazine says about 80 percent of the nation's sampuru is still made in Gujo Hachiman. TODAY reports a different market figure for Iwasaki Be-I, saying the company is said to account for about 60 percent of the Japanese sampuru market. Because the percentages differ by source, treat them as rough indicators that Gifu, and Iwasaki in particular, play an outsized role.
The Embassy of Japan magazine adds that Sample Village Iwasaki in Gifu Prefecture offers workshops where visitors can make their own replicas, such as tempura or lettuce. Opening times and class menus change, so check the official site before planning a trip around it.
In Tokyo, the easiest place to see the craft up close is Kappabashi, also known as Kitchen Town. Tokyo Cheapo describes it as a district between Ueno and Asakusa that has served restaurant professionals and aspiring chefs since 1912 and has over 100 shops. Besides kitchen equipment and tableware, shops sell food samples. Tokyo Cheapo names Tokyo Biken as one of the largest sample shops, with thousands of items plus phone accessories and magnets, and Ganso Shokuhin Sample, which runs reservation-only wax sample-making sessions and sells home kits for making dishes, parfaits, or shaved ice.
Smithsonian Magazine also points to Ganso Sample in Kappabashi as a place that offers one-off classes and workshops for beginners, so it is worth looking into if you want to try the craft yourself. Wikipedia notes that some pieces are sold to the public in stores in Tokyo's Kitchen Town restaurant supply district.
A few practical tips for a Kappabashi visit:
Timing: Tokyo Cheapo says most shops open from 9:00 to 17:00 and are often closed on Sundays and public holidays. Hours vary, so check each shop before you go.
Getting there: Tokyo Cheapo says the street is roughly a 15-minute walk from either Ueno or Asakusa, and the giant chef statue marks the area.
Workshops: Sessions can be reservation-only, so book ahead and check current prices, availability, and language support.
Souvenirs: Small items such as magnets, keychains, and phone accessories are easy to pack. Larger or more elaborate pieces cost more, and some shops deliver while others do not, so ask first.
Once you know the story, the window displays become more than decoration. They are a quick way to choose a meal when you cannot read the menu, and they show the typical portion size before you commit. Pair them with a few menu basics and you can order with confidence. If you like the idea of a souvenir that is both useful and a little playful, a small replica from Kappabashi is a fun reminder of a trip. Even if you only take photos, it is rewarding to know that behind each glossy plate is a team of craftspeople working with molds, resin, and paintbrushes.