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It's a bit far, so I don't get to go often, but there's a ramen shop I always go to when I'm in the area.

I had almost gotten tired of it from going too much, but when I had it again after a long time, it was incredibly delicious.

Since it's my favorite shop, I know it's good, but it was still more delicious than I expected.

I tried to think about what the reason was for it being "more delicious than I expected," but to be honest, I'm not really sure.

Perhaps the person who made it was a veteran, so the chef was skilled.
Perhaps I was hungry.
Perhaps I was excited because it had been a long time.
Perhaps it was a miracle that I got in without queuing, even though it's always crowded.
Perhaps I unconsciously compared the taste to the branch store I went to last time, as I went to the main store this time.
Perhaps I was in good physical condition.
Perhaps my memory is poor, and the ramen I imagined had changed into something not so good.

Hmm. Well, maybe it's all of them.

My feelings inside probably all got mixed up and turned into that evaluation.

I should probably go again soon and see if I have the same evaluation.
Or so I think, but in the end, I won't go, and then I'll go again when I've forgotten about it, and think the same thing.

Ah! Maybe I thought it was more delicious than I expected last time too, and then I forgot about it, and when I had it again after a long time, I thought it was more delicious than I expected again!

Suddenly, I thought about how amazing eggs are.

Boiled eggs, sunny-side-up, tamagoyaki,
scrambled eggs, poached eggs.
Just thinking about egg dishes for breakfast, this many come to mind.

Chawanmushi, omurice, tamago kake gohan,
carbonara, kanitama, oyakodon,
omelets, eggs Benedict.
There are so many dishes that can't exist without eggs.

Hamburgers, karaage, custard, mayonnaise, tempura.
Even in dishes where eggs aren't obviously visible,
there are many where eggs play a crucial role behind the scenes.

Are there any other ingredients
that have such a wide range of uses?
Eggs are the first thing that comes to mind when I think of an ingredient
I always want to keep in the fridge,
and truly, eggs are amazing.

This is truly an unnecessary digression, but
the moment I thought there were so many egg dishes,
what came to mind was "Urawa."

The number of station names with "Urawa" in them
is surely the highest in Japan, with eight of them.
Urawa, Kita-Urawa, Minami-Urawa, Higashi-Urawa, Nishi-Urawa,
Musashi-Urawa, Naka-Urawa, Urawa-Misono.
Isn't that a lot?
That was a random piece of information from someone from Saitama Prefecture.

Thanks to the chickens.

While creating YouTube content, I had the opportunity to produce a promotional video, what you might call a sponsored video, which was one of my goals.

CORNES & CO.,LTD., a distributor of PEUGEOT kitchenware, approached me about showcasing Peugeot's spice mills.

I was aware of Peugeot's spice mills because they are well-known, but I never expected to be offered such an opportunity. I was deeply humbled and very happy. No, I was extremely happy!

After borrowing various Peugeot spice mills and trying them out, I reaffirmed something: pepper is about aroma, and salt is about texture.

Freshly ground pepper truly has a different aroma, so grinding pepper towards the end of cooking adds a wonderful scent and is excellent for eliminating unpleasant odors. The perception also changes depending on the coarseness, so I felt that a mill with adjustable coarseness is excellent for expanding culinary possibilities.

As for salt, the texture is very pleasant. Because I use rock salt, the taste becomes milder, and as a result of being able to grind it finely, I can strongly taste the saltiness with a small amount, which I believe also enhances sweetness and umami.

In particular, the salt ground with the new product "Maestro Z" can be ground incredibly finely and looks elegant. When I had tempura with that salt, it was a perfect match.

Finally, this is just my personal satisfaction, but when I cook with a cool spice mill, I feel like I can make something delicious, and it tastes delicious!

Since it's my latest video, if you haven't seen it yet, I would be delighted if you could watch it.

While shredding cabbage, I accidentally cut my hand. I've hurt myself cooking many times before, but what made this particularly embarrassing was that I was in the zone, shredding cabbage at a good pace, and just as I thought, "My shredding skills are pretty pro," I got a bit too cocky.

I ended up doing something pretty lame, getting overconfident and then cutting myself, which left me feeling a bit down.

It's not just cooking, but whenever I start something new and begin to improve, I feel like the biggest mistakes happen right when I start to get a bit too confident.

When I first start something and get a little better, I immediately think, "Could I actually have a talent for this?" I wonder if it's just me who thinks that.

Then I stumble big time and get discouraged, but if I keep going, I truly start to get better. However, by that point, I don't really get cocky anymore. In fact, more often than not, I start to realize there are always people better than me, even more so than when I was only halfway decent, and I lose some confidence.

I'm most overconfident when I don't know my own limits. Feeling a bit dejected, thinking "I still have a long way to go," I put a band-aid on my hand.

Even though I was more upset about this than the injury itself, I'm doing well.

There are many things that make us feel the seasons, but for me, the scent of osmanthus is what really signals autumn. If I'm walking and I smell osmanthus, I automatically declare it autumn.

The other day, I stopped by a park and smelled osmanthus, so I went deeper into the park and found a spot where there were osmanthus trees everywhere.

I didn't have the impression that osmanthus trees were planted in such large numbers, so it was striking, but as for the scent, it was just too much.

I strongly felt that balance is important. The faint scent of osmanthus makes me feel autumn, but the overwhelming scent of osmanthus lacked any seasonal charm and felt a bit cloying.

Just like with wasabi in sushi or sansho pepper on unagi, if you add too much, it can just become an irritating smell. As I learned that balance is important for both scent and flavor, I quickly escaped from the osmanthus forest.

I went into an Asian restaurant I happened upon.

From the outside, it was clearly an elaborately designed Asian restaurant. It was a place where you could eat dishes from Vietnam, Thailand, and Indonesia, and the menu had dishes from various countries like Nasi Goreng, pho, and tom yum goong. I wanted to try everything, but after much deliberation, I decided on Nasi Goreng.

The Nasi Goreng that came out looked exactly like the Nasi Goreng I ate in Indonesia. It tasted very good too.

While it was delicious, regarding the taste, I felt it was adjusted to suit Japanese palates rather than being the same as local flavors. More like soy sauce than fish sauce, for example.

I wasn't entirely without the feeling that I wanted to eat authentic flavors, but this time, I felt this was very good.

It's natural to feel that things tasted in the local climate and environment, like a beer bought as a souvenir from a hot country that tastes watery when drunk in Japan, are different when experienced in Japan, including the atmosphere.

Given that, how should Nasi Goreng be made in Japan to be delicious when eaten by Japanese people in Japan's climate and atmosphere?

The Nasi Goreng I ate then seemed to have been made with such considerations in mind, and I felt it was a very good dish.