In a [fictitious] TV show I watch, a chef owns a restaurant that fuses Japanese cuisine with “the German cooking traditions of the Texas Hill Country, where I grew up.”
I’ve had Japanese cuisine, and I’ve had German cuisine, but I don’t know enough about cooking to know if this would work. FWIW, the only thing the chef has mentioned specifically, of what I’ve watched so far, is sausage stuffed with daikon and rice. I’d try it.
The point of ‘fusion cuisine’ is to put together two different cuisines in a way that both contrasts and complements them. How well that works really depends on both the skill of the chef drafting the menu to pick things that do those things, and also the marketing.
A lot of modern (post-WWII) Japanese cuisine is already a ‘fusion’ of traditional Asian foods and Western influences. On Okinawa I saw (and ate some of) all kinds of wild combinations of traditional Ryukyuan (Chinese-influenced, mostly Fujian and Jianghuain) cuisine, mainland ramen dishes, and all kinds of food brought to the islands by or for American servicemen, and of course there are the absolutely crazy things that the Japanese do to pizza that they wouldn’t tolerate even in Chicago or Detroit. So, I think it would be entirely possible to interject what we consider to be German-style (Baden or Bavarian) cuisine, albeit in much smaller portions that a typical German consumer would expect.
The food that I’ve had in American German restaurants could absolutely stand to be improved, and if a Japanese cook wants the challenge more power to them.
There’s a restaurant in Washington, D.C. that serves the food of the Japanese and Chinese who migrated to Peru. It’s called China Chilcano. It’s at 418 7th Street NW.
I might love Japanese-German fusion… but (much like Schwarzenegger and DeVito), I haven’t been wild about the times in the past when they’ve gotten together.
Some candidates: Ramen topped with bratwurst, saurkraut, and ajitama soft egg, and maybe the soup is not just pork bone broth but also had sausages being simmered in it for a long time to give flavor.
Edameme soybeans dusted with currywurst spice.
Strudel made with Asian pears instead of apple - although this might come out a bit soggy.
Although kimchi is Korean, not Japanese, it’s not hard to imagine some way to do something that borrows or combines kimchi and sauerkraut together or imitates the other, since they’re both fermented cabbage dishes.
The chef in this mysterious secret show you seem reluctant to name for some reason has mentioned “miso smoked trout, tempura mackerel, and yuzu-wurst stuffed with rice and pickled diakon.” (Cooked over special charcoal.)
Also, if I’m not mistaken, both Japan and Germany like apple-flavored carbonated beverages, so that should be very easy to do; serve apple soda from both nations.
I suspect the secret to most fusion recipes is to resist just throwing two different dishes together or even looking for common ground ingredient-wise. The key is to discover complimentary new flavors lacking in traditional cuisine. For example, traditional German cuisine is relatively weak in umami-rich sauces and broths and ocean flavors like seaweed and shell fish. One approach would be to incorporate these into German stew and goulash recipes.