日報

Out of the blue, I'd like to announce my personal fruit ranking.

1st: Strawberry, 2nd: Peach, 3rd: Mandarin Orange

I'm just doing this on a whim, but I had a really hard time deciding. I truly struggled with whether strawberry or peach should be number one. After much thought, I chose strawberry for first place based on "ease of eating, ease of buying, and versatility."

They're available in stores for a long time, there are many varieties, and you can eat them in jam, in cakes, or plain. Wait, the same could be said for peaches...

No, but I eat strawberries more often, so they're still number one. ...If that's the case, then I definitely eat mandarin oranges the most.

Hmm... I'll think about it a bit more. By the way, my number one fruit when I was a kid was pear.

Ever since I started making cooking videos, I've noticed a lot of things.

When we film, it's just me (Jiro) cooking and Konegi filming. Once, when I was mincing a long green onion, Konegi said, "Aren't you cutting it the wrong way?"

I hold the knife in my right hand, but I was cutting the green onion from left to right instead of right to left.

Once she pointed it out, it was clearly strange. Even I, who was doing the cutting, found it awkward. But for some reason, I had always cut it that way.

Since I usually cook alone, I never had anyone watching me or teaching me, so I realized I had developed my own unique style. It made me feel that having someone occasionally observe you, not just in cooking, can be quite meaningful.

Now I cut green onions from right to left. Yes, it's so much easier!

There was something I was going to write here.
No, there was. I can't remember it.
I thought of it about 30 minutes ago,
but when I went to write it down...
I just couldn't recall it.

Was it something trivial,
or a world-changing invention?
I can't even remember that.
Why didn't I take a note?

I've always been bad at taking notes,
and I keep repeating the cycle of forgetting and regretting.

Even when I'm cooking,
when a dish turns out amazingly delicious,
I just finish it feeling satisfied,
and the next time I make the same dish,
even if I think, "Hmm, it's not as good as last time,"
since I didn't take notes,
I don't know the exact seasonings,
and I often can't recreate it.

"It changes depending on the ingredients and how I'm feeling,
so it might not just be the seasoning or cooking method,"
I tell myself, and that's the end of it,
but if only I had taken notes...

I've reached this age like this, so
I probably won't start taking notes in the future either.
I want to become a person who takes notes.

I'm fascinated by the unique charm of "Yoshoku" restaurants.
Even though they're called "Western-style restaurants," the uniquely Japanese evolution of their East-meets-West cuisine somehow makes you feel Japan more strongly.

Hayashi rice, Neapolitan spaghetti,
Omurice, shrimp pilaf.

Not pasta, but "spaghetti."
Not "fry," but "katsuletsu."
There's no particular consistency, but it feels like there's a certain thread running through it all.

It's not something I crave every day, but sometimes I get an irresistible urge to go.
But then I get there and agonize over what to order.

The genre of "Yoshoku restaurant," which is neither Japanese, Chinese, nor Western,
is like that kid at school who doesn't belong to any group, but is still respected.
I'm a little envious of that.

Starting today, the new TUXTON Green Bay series
features plates that are perfect for Yoshoku cuisine.

The simple green line,
the durable, substantial thickness.
While it has an American feel, these plates also evoke a Showa-era atmosphere,
and are outstandingly suited for hamburgers, Neapolitan spaghetti,
shrimp pilaf, and curry rice.

I don't think TUXTON probably made these plates specifically for "Yoshoku,"
but the way this plate matches Japan's unique culture
feels a little strange, but also a little fated.
And I like it.

I love shredded cabbage.
I like to shred it thinly, chill it, and eat it with a refreshing dressing, like shiso or yuzu.

Shredded cabbage is a must with tonkatsu.
It's not wrong to say that I eat tonkatsu just to eat the cabbage.

Tonkatsu goes well with cabbage, and cabbage goes well with tonkatsu—either way works.

Apparently, tonkatsu and cabbage are also a rational combination in terms of nutritional balance.

Is that really true?
Every tonkatsu restaurant serves shredded cabbage, so I understand that everyone thinks tonkatsu and cabbage go well together, but isn't it amazing that they're also nutritionally perfect?
It's as amazing as meeting a stranger and realizing they're your soulmate.

I kind of understand that we tend to like what our bodies crave, but knowing that something I genuinely like is also good for me makes me feel complimented, and I'm a little happy.

I want to get better at shredding cabbage.

There was a senior colleague at my previous job who loved to cook, and he used to make Shizuoka Oden quite often for company events.

It was so delicious that I asked him for the recipe. He not only gave me specific details about where to buy the ingredients, but also told me, "Just put in sake and soy sauce and simmer it." So, I bought the ingredients from the stores he mentioned and tried making it at home. Hmm. Well, it was tasty, but it wasn't the same. My senior's was definitely better. That's how it turned out.

More than 10 years have passed since then, and after challenging myself a few times a year, I believe I can now make oden that's quite close to my senior's taste.

However, the cooking method is still "just put in sake and soy sauce and simmer it."

If anything, I pay much less attention to it than before, sometimes just letting it simmer, yet somehow it tastes better than before.

It feels like I'm more casual with my cooking compared to before, yet I no longer burn fried rice, and my pasta now tastes just right. I don't know why, but the more I do it, the better I get. That's what I love about cooking.