I ventured out to Kushimasa with none other than Tiger-san, Rabbit-san, and yours truly — a trio destined for culinary chaos.
The world is a storm of dissatisfaction. Politics? A dumpster fire. Mass media? Don’t even get me started! We were fired up — but first, drinks and soul food were in order.
Enter oden and skewers. Not just food — weapons of emotional catharsis.
The conversation snowballed from the old political parties dragging Japan through three decades of stagnation to the woeful state of mainstream media. And let’s not forget our local town management — a comedy of errors if there ever was one.
Then, a dramatic pause — for *mezashi* (grilled dried sardines). A salty bite for bitter truths.
And then, like an alien ambassador from midnight memories — the octopus-shaped sausage. It teleported us to the world of *Shinya Shokudo*. Rabbit-san and I nodded, bonded by our shared reverence for Yutaka Matsushige.
More dishes arrived — a parade of guilty pleasures.
To wash it down — a gentle pour of Usunigori sake, from Urari. Smooth as silk, dangerous as truth.
And at last — the closing act. A humble bowl of Chinese-style noodles. One slurp, and all grievances faded into the broth. The world didn’t change, but my mood did.
Kushimasa — what a gem. Quietly excellent. Comfort incarnate.
Fin.
“Happiness is a small house, a big kitchen, and a full grill.” – Unknown
コメント