京夏終空
I don't want to simply say it's "rustic," but there's a kind of "countryside manju" that doesn't make you feel that way. In the Asakusa and Ryusen area, there are shops that catch your eye in the middle of residential neighborhoods. There used to be a sushi restaurant called "Marukin Sushi" that I remember fondly for serving authentic Edomae sushi. However, I heard that "Marukin Sushi" has been gone for quite some time now. There was a period about 15-20 years ago when I often had work in this area and would wander around after work. Walking around leisurely after a long time, it was still quite interesting. I used to take a taxi from JR Yamanote Line's Uguisudani Station towards the area around Senzoku 4-chome, often following closely behind a lady's taxi heading in the same direction, which made me feel a bit embarrassed. Generally, there were many taxis heading in that direction at the south exit of Uguisudani Station. Looking at the ordinary residential building that now stands where "Marukin Sushi" used to be, I faced reality and walked through the street next to the Higuchi Ichiyo Memorial Hall, arriving at the Tobu Fudo intersection. In the twilight, there was a shop with its lights on. A flag with "manju" was waving. I often saw this scene in the streets of Kyoto. The streets of Kyoto are filled with many traditional Japanese sweets shops. While reminiscing about that nostalgia, I peeked into the showcase. Yes, it looks delicious. "Mom, can I have one of this 'countryside manju'?" "Sure, sure." "Can I eat it here?" "Inside?...You can use this chair if you'd like." "Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you." I took a bite. From the soft skin emerged red bean paste that truly felt like the essence of azuki beans. Delicious. "Mom, this is delicious!" "Oh, is it? (confidently) We don't use any strange ingredients here." Yes, I understand. They don't use anything strange. Just azuki beans. But that's somehow really good. "I'll have one more, maybe a different one..." I said and this time got a regular "manju" (white manju). Ah, the skin feels like a normal one. This is what a regular manju should be. And the red bean paste is still exquisite. It's amazing how there's such an unassuming yet exquisite manju here. Lost in thought for a moment, the lady said, "We haven't changed the taste since we were established in 1910. I am the third generation owner." They don't use any additives, so it doesn't last long, and it hardens quickly, she said. I asked because steam was rising from the steamer, and she said they had just made them about an hour ago. I wanted to buy some and take them home, but this kind of thing isn't meant to be done that way. Buying them fresh and eating them right away is the way to go. I chatted with the lady about various things in the neighborhood, including memories of Marukin Sushi and K Cosmetics store. It was a strange feeling, but I was oddly happy to have become familiar with her. I sat boldly on the chair inside the store, finished two manju, and it was a moment of happiness. "Mom, I'll come back again." Starring: Countryside Manju, White Manju. 1 each, 135 yen. Supporting role: The third-generation owner of "Oshita." (Author: Kyoka Shuko, May 7, 2016) (Before posting, 5 submissions have been made. Ratings of 4.5 by 1 person, 4.0 by 3 people, and 3.8 by 1 person, so why is it "3.02"? It's because they apply strange filters that cause great restaurants like this to sink.) (※The photo will be posted later.)
