日報

I have a favorite fish shop nearby.
It's reasonably large, lively, and clean, making it a very appealing store.

Perhaps few people know this,
but I, a frequent visitor, do.
A wizard appears there in the evening.

This wizard appears dashingly, not with a wand,
but with a sticker,
and when they cast a spell,
something that was 1000 yen
suddenly changes to 900 yen.
They are probably a legendary wizard in that shopping district.

One day, as usual, I went to the fish shop in the evening,
and it already felt like they were preparing to close.
There was no sign of new fish being prepared,
and both customers and products were sparse.

The products already had spells cast on them,
not just a 10% spell, but a 20% spell.
A 20% spell is amazing. It's the kind that turns 1000 yen into 800 yen.

I just stared at the magically discounted sashimi before me,
wondering if such a thing was possible.
Incidentally, the amazing power of this magic is that
it only draws interest to the products that have been enchanted,
and makes you completely ignore anything that hasn't been.

Just then, he appeared.
The legendary 30% wizard!!

The rarely-seen 30% wizard
began casting spells from the far left.
Things that were 1000 yen instantly transformed into 700 yen.

He carefully placed each magic sticker one by one,
so it would still take a good while
to reach the far right, where the item I had decided to buy was.
At times like these, waiting for the item you want to buy
to be enchanted is embarrassing... no, it's terrifying,
and since I didn't know if he would cast a spell
on my target item,
after a bit of deliberation, I took a gamble.

Me: "Which one do you recommend?"
Wizard: "Hmm. All of them, but this one is especially delicious today."
Me: "That sounds good! Oh, what about this one?"
Wizard: "Oh, that's also in season and delicious. *Peel and stick*"

I won.
I carried the wizard's recommended item
and my own target item,
and headed to the register, feeling satisfied.

I love to stir-fry.
I love stir-frying onions for curry,
or vegetables for soffritto for a long, long time. The longer the better, actually.

I also love to simmer.
It's great fun when I've stir-fried the onions for curry and then dump in all the ingredients and let them bubble away,
or when I'm making chicken stock or pork bone broth from scratch.
The longer, the better, really.

My grandpa used to simmer black beans a lot, I recall,
and now I think I understand why.
I'll probably end up doing it myself someday.

Even if I try to think about what makes it fun,
I don't really know for sure.
Maybe it's the fun of imagining things changing, even though at first glance you can't see the difference.

I can't put it into words
because I can't form a concrete image,
but there's something else I find fun with a similar feeling.

A bonfire.

When I'm just staring at a bonfire,
that feeling of not thinking about anything,
or thinking deeply,
feels similar to stir-frying for a long time
or simmering.

Hmm. I still don't really understand, but
it's fun to do, so I guess it's fine.

I happened to glance at the calendar and saw that next week is December.

What... no way. Time thief?

We launched the kikkake website in April, so about seven months have passed, and during that time, it feels like I've done a lot, and yet also like I've accomplished absolutely nothing. I was so engrossed that I didn't realize December had arrived, which surprised me.

The term "Shiwasu" for December means "even masters run," implying that they are so busy they have to run, and I used to wonder if masters usually don't run. But it turns out "Shi" refers to Buddhist monks.

One prominent theory among various explanations for "Shiwasu" is that it became common because December is a busy month for monks due to the many memorial services.

Hmm. Isn't everyone busy in December, not just monks? Are there any professions that aren't busy in December? The last day of work, year-end cleaning, year-end parties, drinking parties, New Year's preparations, New Year's Eve. I think the hustle and bustle of "year-end progress" and the unusual way everyone moves around remains the same now as it was in the past.

So, instead of "Shiwasu" for December, wouldn't it be better to call it something like "Minna-hashiru" (Everyone Runs) or "Zanmu-ta-zetsubo-futoshi-nenkoshi" (So much leftover work that despairingly, the new year won't come)? I shivered just thinking about whether kikkake can survive the year-end operations.

Only one month left in 2025; let's do our best!

This is a story from when I was in elementary school.
My maternal grandmother's house was a two-story standalone house. The first floor was rented out to a ramen shop, and the second floor was my grandmother's home.

That ramen shop was quite popular, always with a long line. I feel like there were usually about 20 people waiting. I might be exaggerating a bit in my memory, but the line often stretched three houses down, so I don't think I'm too far off.

The menu only had ramen and chashu-men, and you had to wait until the owner called out to take your order. You'd put your money in a basket on the counter and take your change from it as well; it was quite a wild setup. Now that I think about it, maybe it was a precursor to self-checkout?

The shop was closed on weekends, and even on weekdays, they would often sell out and close by early afternoon. For an elementary school student like me, it was a legendary ramen shop that I rarely got to eat at.

Even for me, there was a dreamlike season when I could eat there on a weekday afternoon. Yes, summer vacation.

During summer vacation, when I went to visit my grandmother's house, I could eat that legendary ramen, so I always looked forward to going there. No matter how long the line was, if I called out from the back of the shop, they would prioritize my order due to the landlord's privilege.

I'd pick up the ramen from the back and take it up to my grandmother's house on the second floor to eat it. I remember often hearing people in line say, "Oh, I wonder if there are seats on the second floor?" And I'd recall inwardly replying with a slightly triumphant "Hehe, nope!"

The ramen had very unusual ingredients: onions, wood ear mushrooms, seaweed, and chashu. It was a rich ramen. That ramen shop is gone now. I wish I could eat it again.

I find it difficult to cook stir-fry dishes in a frying pan for more than three servings at once. Whether it's pasta or fried rice, I can easily make up to two servings without much thought, but when it comes to three servings, it suddenly feels much more challenging.

Not only is the quantity larger, but the stir-frying can be uneven, and simply multiplying the seasonings for one person often feels insufficient. Serving also takes more time and the food gets cold easily. I've tried several times and it never goes smoothly, so when I need to make more than three servings, I either make two servings the necessary number of times, or I opt for something that can be simmered, like Bolognese sauce.

If I had more opportunities to cook for a large number of people, I'd probably get used to it, but since it's only occasional, I don't really improve.

Someday, I want to try making 10 servings of fried rice in a large wok over a super-powerful gas stove, tossing the rice high into the air, and making it look cool!

That was a close call.
While shredding cabbage, I accidentally hit my thumb with the knife, but my nail guarded it and nothing happened.

How many times have my nails saved me?
Nails are originally not meant to protect fingers from knives, but rather a function that various creatures have to make it easier to hold and grasp things.

And yet, when using a knife, the thumbnail of the hand not holding the knife is perfectly positioned as if to say, "Don't worry, I'll protect you if anything happens!"
Is that a coincidence?

I cut my nail just a little bit with the knife, but it stopped there,
so I was able to shred the cabbage safely and without injury.
I'm sure many people have been protected by their thumbnails,
so I thanked all the nails across the country on behalf of everyone.

I'm sure there will be dangerous situations in the future,
so I look forward to your continued support!