Schnitzel
Visited on a Saturday morning in November 2015, decided to go to Kyoto on a whim. Upon arrival, the first place I headed to was this shop near Kyoto Daimaru, a long-established kombu (kelp) shop. Inside the shop, a couple who seemed to be from a Chinese-speaking country were struggling to communicate with customers. They were offering several types of dried kombu for tasting and explaining how to eat them. They mentioned that it's okay to wrap them in rice, but I wondered if they understood me (as only "rice" was in English and the rest was in Japanese with gestures). It was surprising to see foreign tourists coming to such a place. My main goal was to get the fried kombu that I had bought two bags of in February and finished quickly because it was so delicious. This time, I got two more bags. I also bought a bag of their famous "fukiyose," which is a mix of various senbei (rice crackers), arare (bite-sized Japanese rice crackers), and beans snacks. Back in Tokyo, I first tried the fried kombu. The crispy and dry Tamamaruya's hoiron kombu was delicious, but the fried kombu here with a little bit of oil was still delicious. It had plenty of kombu umami flavor and the aroma was outstanding. As for the fukiyose, I wonder how many different types are in there. I counted at least ten different types. There were round and thin pink shrimp senbei, white ones of the same shape, long arare, curry-flavored soramame (broad beans), and more. They all had a refined Kyoto-like quality but didn't feel too high-end, which I liked. Since they are closed on Sundays and holidays, it's a bit hard to visit, but it's a shop I always want to stop by when I'm in Kyoto.
Visited in February 2015, I love the fried kombu that sometimes comes in the arare bags, and I sometimes buy arare just to get a little bit of kombu. Like a child who buys snacks just to get a bonus. But about three years ago when I came to Kyoto, I happened to find a shop that sells fried kombu individually. That shop is here. A kombu specialty shop located in an area between Yanaginobanba Street and Shijo Street and Nishiki Koji. Unfortunately, they were closed that time. The next time I came, they were closed again, and on my third attempt this time, I finally managed to visit when they were open. When I entered the shop, it was indeed a specialty shop. Various kombu products such as tororo kombu and salted kombu were lined up. I also found the fried kombu. A whole bag of fried kombu for only 400 yen. I almost cried. I decided to get two bags, and the shopkeeper asked if it was okay since they would last for about two weeks. If it meant whether I could finish them quickly, it was absolutely no problem. I purchased two bags without hesitation. I was more afraid of the feeling of loss after finishing them. Back in Tokyo, I tried them. When I opened the bag, I saw a mix of black and white, thick and thin pieces. It seemed like they were fried scraps from the manufacturing process. As for the taste, it was amazing. The glutamic acid, which is the umami component of kombu, was condensed in high concentration. This fried kombu might be the most direct way to feel the umami of glutamic acid in any food. Moreover, because it was fried, it was fragrant. The thick pieces were crispy, the thin ones were crunchy, and each had a different texture. With this, I wouldn't need anything else as a snack with my drink. It is said that Asian food culture is divided into the fish sauce culture, where fish is fermented, and the grain sauce culture, where soybeans and grains are fermented. Both fish sauce and grain sauce have glutamic acid as the base of umami. While Westerners prefer the umami of nucleotide-based inosinic acid in meat, Asian people love the umami of glutamic acid. I realized that I am definitely an Asian person.