睦月 神楽
I would like to start by saying that this is unnecessarily long. If you find it too tedious to read, feel free to skim through it. Asakura City in Fukuoka Prefecture is my hometown, along with Asakura County. In the center of the former Amagi City, there used to be a West Japan Bus Center, a five-story department store, and an arcade shopping street. I went to the high school closest to the bus center, and back then, it was a fairly lively town. Over time, the arcade shopping street deteriorated and was removed, the department store was demolished and replaced with a convenience store, and the bus center, along with the supermarket inside, disappeared, leaving only a small bus stop and parking lot. Amidst all this change, the small diner that seemed outdated even back then stood alone. I visited the "Kanaya Shokudo" in Asakura City for the first time in many years. This was a place I used to go for lunch on Saturdays during high school. At that time, I had specific places I would go to eat certain dishes – ramen at "Hourokuken" with friends, "Chinmiro" alone, katsu curry at "Grill Hanabishi," yakisoba at "Moncel" on the 2nd floor of the bus center, and champon here at "Kanaya Shokudo." All of those places except "Kanaya Shokudo" have disappeared. Upon entering the restaurant, I realized that time had passed here as well, and the atmosphere inside was not frozen in time like the exterior. The place felt a bit rundown, and I hesitated as a woman entering alone. The interior had a counter on the left, two raised tatami tables in the back, a 6-person table in the center, and a table with chairs on the side. The stools at the counter seemed unused, and there were broken chairs lined up next to them. Two customers were eating set meals at a large table. I sat at a table near the entrance and asked if I could have the "nabe-yaki udon." The staff agreed, and I was surprised that they could make it since it's a labor-intensive dish using a stove. I arrived before 2 PM when the place was not crowded, and I assumed it would be difficult to make the nabe-yaki udon. I deliberately chose the nabe-yaki udon instead of the nostalgic champon, thinking it might be challenging for them to prepare. While waiting, I noticed a large number of shochu bottles lined up next to me, and I wondered if there was no rule about clearing them out within three months. I remembered the personality of the previous owner. The nabe-yaki udon arrived sooner than expected. It was served in a pot on a tray with a trivet, accompanied by a plate and a ladle. The ingredients included seaweed, fresh shiitake mushrooms, white leeks, kamaboko, sliced tempura (thin Satsuma-age, locally known as tenpura), chicken, beef (probably the sweet and savory stewed kind used in beef udon), eggs (the whites were mostly cooked, and the yolks were raw). It was quite luxurious for 600 yen. I took a sip of the soup, which was a bit salty. The flavors of the seaweed and tempura also came through. The noodles were likely store-bought frozen noodles, but they were delicious as they had soaked up the broth. As I ate, I remembered that they used to serve the nabe-yaki udon in an aluminum pot rather than a clay pot. Was it at the nearby "New Matsuya"? While pondering this, I suddenly realized, "Wait, am I crying?" The nostalgia overwhelmed me, and tears welled up in my eyes. Embarrassed, I couldn't help but shed tears while slurping the nabe-yaki udon. I must have looked like a wanted criminal who had finally surrendered after a long chase. Not cool at all. A middle-aged man shedding tears while eating nabe-yaki udon...quite pitiful.