日報

It's been over a year since I started YouTube.
My channel subscribers are approaching 40,000, and I really feel that many people are watching my videos every day.

What we want to deliver and what viewers want to watch.

Konegi, who is in charge of shooting and editing, and I are constantly experimenting to find the perfect intersection of those two things.

While making videos every week, "thumbnails" and "titles" are often topics of discussion.

They are said to have the biggest impact, and they are the first things viewers see.
It's obvious if you think about it from a viewer's perspective; if you don't feel like watching it there, you won't click on it.

We decide on the direction before making the video, so we have some idea of the title, but we make the final decisions on the title and thumbnail after actually watching the completed video.

Ideally, we want many people to watch our videos.

We review what has received good reactions in the past and refer to popular channels when making our selections each time.

Still, some do well, and some don't.

I know there's no right answer, but we're challenging ourselves every day to create something enjoyable for both our viewers and ourselves.

My favorite Chinese restaurant has been selected for Tabelog's "Hyakumeiten" (Top 100 Restaurants) for the first time.

While there was a "Hooray!" of joy, there was also a touch of sadness that it might get even more crowded and harder to visit.

Knowing about a place before it became popular somehow fills me with a little pride. Well, it was already a popular restaurant to begin with.

On the other hand, it's a mix of joy and a little sadness and anxiety, similar to how I feel when an indie band I've liked for a long time suddenly becomes wildly popular. It feels close to that sensation.

From a restaurant only I knew, to a restaurant everyone knows.

It's strange how even though the restaurant's decor and taste haven't changed at all, my own perception of it changes just because the public's evaluation has shifted.

I remember when I was a salaryman, someone once told me, "You've changed recently. For the better." I didn't feel like I had changed at all, but I was told that. Perhaps I was actually changing little by little?

At least this Chinese restaurant should be exactly the same today as it was yesterday.

So, I want to continue visiting it as my usual "favorite Chinese restaurant," unchanged.

Once, when I was watching a cooking drama, there was a scene like this.

While frying a hamburger, the chef put a lid on the pan, closed their eyes, and concentrated. They quietly listened to the sound inside, and at the perfect moment, shouting "Now!", they opened the lid to reveal a perfectly cooked patty. The customer who ate it was deeply moved.

I thought, "There's no way that's real."

Later, when I first started cooking, I was watching an instructional video on how to make soffritto (an Italian base made by sautéing aromatic vegetables). The narrator said this:

"At first, you'll hear the sound of water evaporating, but as the moisture leaves the vegetables, the sound will change to that of oil. Use that as your guide."

I thought, "I wouldn't know what that sounds like."

Some time has passed since then, and now that I cook much more often than before, I suddenly realize something.

When I listen to the sounds, I can surprisingly understand a lot.

I wouldn't say I can understand the sounds inside a covered pan, but I can tell when moisture is evaporating, and I somehow feel like I can tell from the sound when the meat I'm grilling is about to start burning.

There are indeed some things you just don't understand until you've done them for a while. And there's a certain kind of fun that only becomes apparent once you've reached that point.

I wonder if I'll eventually be able to distinguish the sounds inside a covered pan too.

I always thought that the maximum amount of pasta I could make at one time was enough for two people.

When I try to make enough for three people, it suddenly becomes difficult.

Even though the seasoning should be the same, it just doesn't taste right. It takes a long time to plate, and it never looks good. It takes so long to bring it to the table that the pasta gets a little soggy or soft.

For various reasons, it always ends up tasting a little less delicious than usual.

My cooking utensils aren't designed for making large quantities, and I'm just not used to cooking for many people in the first place, so it's difficult.

However, this time, I managed to create a dish that I felt was a success for a large number of people. Moreover, it was for four people, not just three.

It was Mentaiko Pasta, which I also introduced on YouTube. I think I managed to make it well even for four people.

Since tarako pasta only requires tossing, if you prepare the ingredients in a bowl beforehand, then quickly add the boiled pasta and toss it vigorously, it doesn't take much time.

Furthermore, with Japanese-style pasta, I feel like it doesn't really matter if the noodles get a little soft.

The feeling that small portions taste better hasn't changed, but when you have to cook for a large number of people, pasta that just needs tossing is a good option.

kikkake's basic routine is to release a video once a week.

Before filming, I consider what theme to use, what dish to make, and what I want to show. Sometimes I do a trial run beforehand to get a feel for it.

Then, filming takes 2-3 days. Konagi, who is in charge, finishes the editing.

We discuss and create the thumbnail and title, prepare translations for each country, and then release it. We look at the results and sometimes make changes, sometimes not.

Even though I enjoy it, keeping up with a weekly schedule is quite challenging. It's been about a year and a half since I started YouTube, and the fact that I've been able to continue gives me confidence.

It's hard enough for a small-scale operation like kikkake, so I wonder how weekly dramas and daily TV shows manage it. I think it's truly amazing.

Of course, quality is important, but I feel that simply continuing has its own value.

I want to continue steadily and create interesting content.

When I was in elementary school, I can't remember what grade I was in, but everyone was crazy about Dragon Ball when a character named Trunks appeared.

I immediately fell in love with his cool silver hair, and Trunks became synonymous with "cool" in my mind.

Some time later, I learned that "trunks" was also the name of men's underwear, but even now, for me, "Trunks" isn't underwear; he remains the cool warrior I envisioned.

Decades passed, and I started cooking. I discovered ingredients with cool names, just like Trunks back then.

Selvatica and Endive.

Selvatica sounds like a calm wizard, and Endive sounds like a brave warrior.

Yet, they're just leafy greens.

Endive looked good and had a cool name, so I thought, "This is great!" and bought some, but I was surprised by how bitter it was. It was a bit too harsh for a salad.

I tried making the dressing more vinegary and adding citrus to it, experimenting until I found a way to make it edible.

Normally, I might not buy it again, but since its name is cool, I want to keep trying a bit longer. Endive.

Speaking of ingredients with names that sound like a final boss, Gorgonzola is definitely it.

...No, Beef Stroganoff is also a strong contender.