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I once asked an acquaintance who owned many scarves, "You only have one neck, so why do you have so many scarves?" They replied, "You can never have too many scarves!" I don't know what dialect it was, but the answer conveyed strong conviction.

Huh. For a moment, I almost thought it was cool, but no, no. I just thought it was the cry of someone who'd bought too much.

Now, what I'm thinking is, "You can never have too many dishes!"

A meal isn't just about the food you've cooked; I believe whether it tastes good or not, or if you enjoy it or not, depends on various factors: the weather, your mood, how hungry you are, the company, the time, the light, and so on.

Among these, dishes are something I can control and have a significant impact.

Depending on the situation, whether you need individual portions or a large platter, something flashy or elegant, dishes can change the atmosphere with their color, shape, size, texture, and how they're arranged.

Of course, making the food taste good is important, but with the right dishes, you can make it look even better.

That's why, "You can never have too many dishes!"

I bet the scarf person would say "Huh." to me.

Cooking, I think, ultimately comes down to the final adjustments.
I know I'm exaggerating, but
somehow, with a little tweak at the very end,
you can get it to a certain level, so
I really think those final adjustments are important.

Cooking, I think, ultimately comes down to the base.
If you have a solid broth,
sometimes just a pinch of salt is all it takes to perfect the flavor.
If you properly season the ingredients, you can even eat them plain
and they'll be delicious, so
I really think the base is important.

Hmm.
I've thought that both making final adjustments and getting the base right
were the most important things,
but now I've contradicted myself.

There's no need to decide which is more important, but
just for fun, if I were forced to make a difficult choice
and absolutely had to pick one,
which of the following would I choose?

"You can spend as much time as you want on the broth, but no final seasoning."
"No seasonings whatsoever until the very end of cooking."

Hmmmm!
It's a tough one, but I lean towards the broth.
Lately, if the ingredients' natural flavor comes through,
I tend to find it delicious, so
I thought the broth would be better, but
when I was younger, I probably would have thought it was fine as long as I could adjust it at the end.

I've been thinking about something quite pointless.
I knew it, but
if you build a solid base
and then taste and adjust it thoroughly at the end,
you'll create something delicious!

I often make mistakes when shooting.

The cutting didn't go smoothly.
Ingredients spilled out while stir-frying.
The plating didn't quite hit the mark.

Even if you don't call them mistakes,
I can't help but wonder if things are really okay.
Sometimes I get into that state,
and I think those are the most dangerous times.

Sometimes things really aren't going well, but
most of the time, I'm just in "worry mode."
Often, worrying at that moment doesn't help anything, so
it's better to just do it confidently without worrying.
That usually leads to better results.

I know that, but
when I worry, I just worry!

There's no real punchline to this story.
In an effort to reduce my worries,
I try to anticipate things that might cause concern,
and pay attention to them, but
I feel like I'm already caught in a trap
of the "worry loop."

Hmm. I'll try not to worry anymore!
Wait, by focusing on "worry"
and trying to ignore it,
am I already worrying?

Ugh. I'll be careful.

My regular ramen shop.
I go there when I'm hungry,
I go there when I can't cook.
I go about once a week.

The food is delicious, of course,
the shop is always clean,
and the service is just right.

It's hard to explain, but it's not "too delicious," which is also perfect.
I could eat it again and again. It's really good.

When I ordered snacks and ramen,
they asked, "Would you like the ramen later?"
I said yes.
After that, the snacks were
just a tiny bit late, and just as I thought, "Is it coming yet?"
the server called out to the kitchen,
"Snacks for the counter seat, please!"

Their memory and attentiveness are amazing.
Do they really keep track of the entire hall's food delivery status?
I, who left all my memory at my parents' house,
was genuinely impressed, thinking I could never do that.

After that,
the snacks arrived with the server saying,
"Please let us know just before you want your ramen."
Then, when I thought it was about time and said,
"Please!"
they replied, "Understood. Ramen for the counter, please!"

I realized that after responding "Understood" to me,
they then conveyed that loudly to the kitchen,
communicating it to both me and the kitchen staff. Amazing.

Seeing a shop operate with maximum efficiency with minimum staff,
it reminds me of how great this place is.
The taste of the food, of course, the atmosphere of the shop,
the politeness and warmth of the staff,
the menu designed with service speed in mind, and the unit price.
When I think of a first-class shop, it feels like everything has been thoughtfully decided,
which makes me feel good and is a learning experience.

Thank you for the meal. I'll come again.

I've always disliked celery.
There are two foods I just can't eat:
raw oysters and celery.

No matter how finely it's chopped,
no matter how long it's cooked,
my celery sensor never misses a beat.
If I detect even a hint of celery, I can't eat it.
That's how it was for a long time.

When I heard the lyrics "Some dislike summer, others like celery"
in SMAP's song "Celery,"
as someone who loves summer and hates celery, I really resonated with it.

Time passed.
I started cooking seriously,
and as my interest and tolerance for flavors grew,
celery became an important ingredient in key dishes.
It just happened.

In Italian stews and stir-fries,
it's practically essential for the base flavor;
the deliciousness is completely different with or without celery.
When I eat a delicious dish at a restaurant,
and I try to figure out what's in it,
I often find myself thinking, "Oh, celery again!"
Celery, which was once at the top of my list of disliked foods,
has somehow become an ingredient I truly appreciate.

It's almost like...
when there's a young player on a rival team in professional baseball
who you didn't particularly like,
then you haven't seen them for a while, and they've moved to a different team,
and they've become a seasoned veteran, but seeing them still working hard,
you inexplicably find yourself rooting for them.
...Or maybe that's not quite right.

Celery, which I used to dislike.
I can't say I love it yet,
but it's an ingredient I end up using in key situations.
I still can't eat celery in salads.

It's cold every day, and it seems like it's going to snow in Tokyo tomorrow, but I can already feel its presence. That powdery stuff coming from the trees.

Since last week, whenever I go outside, my eyes feel a little hot, and sometimes my nose runs. At first, I thought I had a cold, but I don't have a fever, and I don't feel unwell in general. In such cases, it has to be "it."

It arrives when spring brings pleasant weather, and as if to say, "I won't let you enjoy this!" it interferes with spring and then leaves with it.

Every year, I used to wait until I thought, "Oh, I can't take this anymore!" before getting a prescription for medicine. But this year, I swore I wouldn't make the same mistake, so I started taking it today.

When my nose is stuffy, I can't taste anything, and generally, I lose motivation. My motivation to cook also drops, which is not good, so I hope I can keep it under control this year.

It's a personal worry, but I wonder what musicians with hay fever do.

I think that for anything described as an allergy, it's more effective to take preventative measures rather than dealing with it after it surfaces. So, I'm hoping for good results from these proactive measures!

Achoo!