With the cherry blossoms at their peak, Kyoto was teeming1 with visitors. Knowing this would be
the case, Hisahiko had reserved a taxi while still on the bullet train.
The black sedan was waiting for him at the eastern end of the Hachijo-dori exit from the station.
He climbed in and told the driver the way to the Kamogawa Diner.
‘You know,’ said the driver, catching2 his eye in the rear-view mirror, ‘I’ve been driving for
thirty years and that’s the first time I’ve heard of the place. Is it famous for a certain dish?’
‘Well, it’s nikujaga stew3 on the menu today,’ replied Hisahiko, taking in the Kyoto scenery that
was gliding4 past the window. ‘Though I think they serve something different every day.’
The city’s wide avenues and narrow alleys5 alike were crammed6 with vehicles. Hisahiko,
frowning, glanced repeatedly at his watch.
When, over fifteen minutes after setting off, they finally arrived at the restaurant, Hisahiko was
barely able to conceal7 his irritation8.
‘Keep the change. Just open the door, would you?’
The flustered9 driver operated the automatic door. Hisahiko sprang out and stood in front the
Kamogawa Diner.
‘We’ve been waiting for you!’ said Koishi, sliding the door open.
‘Thanks for inviting10 me back,’ said Hisahiko, removing his beige spring coat as he walked into
the restaurant.
‘The traffic must have been pretty bad?’ asked Nagare, smiling gently as he emerged from the
kitchen.
‘Yes, though I knew what I was in for,’ shrugged11 Hisahiko. He was wearing a black shirt.
‘Are you nice and hungry?’
‘Considering how early it is, yes, I’m quite peckish,’ said Hisahiko, giving his usual lopsided
smile as he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was barely half past eleven.
‘Seeing as it’s nikujaga we’re serving you, I thought I’d go for a sort of cafeteria style. Having
the white rice on the side should also help you really savour the taste, too. It’ll be ready in just a
minute!’ Nagare’s features tensed slightly as he made his way back into the kitchen.
Hisahiko sat down on one of the red chairs, then got his phone out from his bag.
‘Take a look at this.’ He turned his screen in Koishi’s direction.
‘What is that? French cuisine12?’ asked Koishi, squinting13 at the phone.
‘It’s the nikujaga from my childhood – as recreated by Yoshimi Tateno,’ said Hisahiko, smiling
with both cheeks for once.
Koishi’s eyes widened.
‘The meat is A5-grade Matsusaka beef, and the potatoes are Northern Rubies14 from Hokkaido.
Both of the finest quality. The broth15 is flavoured with Shimousa soy sauce from Chiba and a type
of high- grade refined Japanese sugar normally used to make desserts. Of course, my mother
probably didn’t use ingredients quite like those. But Mr Tateno was so kind as to suggest that,
given how I’ve turned out, the nikujaga I ate must have been of at least similar quality.’
‘So . . . he wrapped those purple potatoes . . . up in those thin slices of sirloin?’ said Koishi,
wrinkling her nose. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s not nikujaga.’
‘Here we are!’ said Nagare, bringing a lacquered tray over to the table.
‘I intend to try your version before deciding which to use for the interview.’
Nagare waited for Hisahiko to put his phone back in his bag, then set the small tray down on the
table.
‘This is . . . my mother’s cooking?’ Hisahiko leaned over the tray and began inspecting it in
minute detail.
The antique Imari-ware16 bowl was full to the brim with stew. Alongside it was a smaller bowl,
decorated with lines traced in bright cobalt pigment17 and piled with white rice, a small Shigaraki
dish bearing some pickled cabbage, and a Negoro lacquered wooden bowl from which rose an
appetizing cloud of steam.
‘This is nikujaga the way your mother made it. Koshihikari rice from Hiroshima. Cooked so
that it’s all soft and sticky. Apparently18 you liked it that way.’
‘I did? But how did you . . .’
‘Let’s talk about that when you’ve finished. On the side you have extra-pickled Hiroshimana
cabbage. And the miso soup is with a sea bream broth and poached egg. All your favourites, I
believe. Please, enjoy!’
Nagare bowed and walked off, followed by Koishi.
Hisahiko began by giving the stew a good sniff19. He nodded deeply, then picked up his
chopsticks and inserted a piece of beef into his mouth. As soon as he began chewing, he cocked
his head as if in confusion. He tried some potato and onion, and a smile rose on his right cheek.
Then, as if changing his mind, he reached for another piece of meat, then gazed at it intently
before stuffing it into his mouth. Again, a perplexed20 look came across his features.
Now he picked up the wooden bowl and sipped21 the miso soup. He let out a short sigh. He used
his chopsticks to break up the poached egg, then took another sip22. This time, it was his left cheek
that smiled. He spread the Hiroshimana cabbage out slightly, then wrapped a piece around a
mouthful of the white rice and inserted it into his mouth. Finally, his smile spread across both
sides of his face.
Sitting up in his chair slightly, he took another piece of beef from the stew, placed it on top of
his rice, then brought it to his mouth. When he had finished savouring the meal, Hisahiko set his
chopsticks back down on the table.
‘How was that, then? Bring back some memories?’ asked Nagare, appearing with a Mashiko-
ware teapot in his hand.
‘The miso soup, the pickles24 and the rice were all very nostalgia-inducing, yes. But the stew
itself isn’t quite right, I’m afraid. Mr Kamogawa, this isn’t the nikujaga that my mother made –
it’s the way Sachiko used to make it. You must have misunderstood me – I wanted you to recreate
it the way my real mother made it, not my stepmother. And unfortunately, there won’t be time for
a second attempt. Of course, I’ll pay you for your efforts. Please send an invoice25 to the address on
my card.’ Hisahiko rose from his seat and began gathering26 his things.
‘Hang on a second . . .’ said Koishi, flustered as she glanced between Hisahiko and Nagare.
‘So you do remember, then,’ declared Nagare, calmly. ‘It’s just as you say: this is the nikujaga
that Sachiko used to make you.’
‘But that’s not what I asked for!’ chuckled27 Hisahiko ironically as he pulled on his beige coat.
‘Actually, I think you’ll find it is,’ said Nagare, looking Hisahiko right in the eye.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Hisahiko, his tone growing more abrupt28. ‘I requested my
mother Kimie’s stew. This was Sachiko’s stew. Almost everything about it was different. There’s
simply no comparison!’
‘Ah, but there is. In fact, it’s the exact same dish.’
‘How could it be?’ said Hisahiko, turning red in the face. ‘My mother and Sachiko were quite
different people.’
‘If you’re in a rush, feel free to leave. It looks like you’re not happy with the result, so there’ll
be no need to pay. But,’ continued Nagare with a gentle smile, ‘if you do have time to listen to
what I have to tell you, please – take a seat.’
‘Well, I’m not exactly in a rush . . .’ said Hisahiko. He removed his coat and sat back down, a
reluctant expression on his face.
‘As you said, this is Sachiko’s recipe. I got it from her. That’s why there’s none of that red
colour you remembered. Apart from that, however, the taste should be identical. Sachiko is doing
well, by the way. I paid a visit to that small house of hers, on the outskirts29 of Kojima.’
Nagare showed Hisahiko a photograph of a small, single-storey house with a red, corrugated30
roof.
‘She’s still . . . living there?’ said Hisahiko in surprise as he took the photo.
‘Miho got married seven years ago, and Sachiko has been there on her own ever since. Your
room is still there too – just the way you left it.’
Hisahiko remained silent, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the photograph.
‘Now, about this nikujaga. It turns out the recipe is one that your mother passed on to Sachiko.
She wrote it in here,’ said Nagare, placing a faded notebook on the table. ‘What ingredients to use,
how to flavour the broth – it’s all there in detail. Sachiko was kind enough to let me borrow it.’
‘Cooking for Hisahiko,’ read Hisahiko, glancing at the title on the front page before hastily
opening the notebook. ‘My mother wrote this?’
‘When your mother was in poor health, she knew she wouldn’t be able to look after you for
much longer. She asked Sachiko to take her place, as your father’s second wife. You were a fussy31
eater, so she decided32 to write down exactly what you liked.’
‘And she gave Sachiko . . .’ murmured Hisahiko, his eyes eagerly scanning the pages.
‘Nikujaga is on the fifth page,’ explained Nagare. Hisahiko hurriedly turned to the recipe.
‘Kure, the district which the island of Toyoshima belongs to, is said to be the birthplace of
nikujaga stew. Now, with Kure-style nikujaga you’d normally use May Queen potatoes, which
don’t fall apart when you boil them, but your mother Kimie used a famous brand of potato from
Akasaki, not far from the island. Dejima potatoes, they’re called – and still popular to this day.
The onions were from Awajima, and the soy sauce from Shodoshima. This was almost thirty years
ago, so sourcing ingredients of that quality would have been quite a challenge. You must really
have been the apple of her eye.’
‘But what about here, where it says “Yamato- ni”?’ asked Hisahiko, his eyes glued to the
notebook. ‘Does that mean she used . . .’
‘That’s right. Canned meat,’ said Nagare, placing a can on the table. ‘Yamato-ni – soy-stewed
beef. Like it says in the notebook, in those days there was nowhere on the island that had a regular
supply of high-quality beef. You weren’t a fan of meat with a lot of fat on it, which was why your
mother used the canned stuff, which was reliably lean. And, seeing as she and your father ran a
warehousing business, she probably had ways of getting her hands on it.
‘The word “yamato-ni” must have come up in your parents’ conversations,’ continued Nagare,
pointing at the characters emblazoned on the can. And, seeing as yama can also mean “mountain”,
I reckon you assumed that was what they were talking about. A kid your age would have known
no better.’
‘That explains that, then,’ said Hisahiko, his eyes widening as he picked up the can and
inspected it.
‘The reason you remembered the stew having a reddish tinge33 is because when you were little
you didn’t like carrots, and so your mother would mash23 them up before they went in the stew. But
by the time Sachiko took over, you no longer minded them, so she started just chopping them up
instead. Hence the difference in colour. Now, as for that time you found two pots on the stove. The
reason one of them didn’t have any meat in it was because Sachiko was using the canned stuff for
you. It’s already cooked and seasoned, so she would have just popped it in when the stew was
ready to serve. As she must have realized, it’s so lean that if you boil it too long it turns all tough.’
‘These days, you’re more likely to find me eating a cut of marbled beef,’ said Hisahiko.
‘The fat on a quality cut of meat is delicious, but less so on something cheaper. Your tastes
might have changed as you got older, but Sachiko followed your mother’s recipe to the letter.
She’s a very conscientious34 woman.’
Nagare showed him a photo of Sachiko standing35 in front of her house.
‘She’s so small now,’ said Hisahiko, his eyes glistening37 slightly.
‘The recipes for the pickled cabbage and poached- egg miso soup are written in different
handwriting, so they can’t have been your mother’s. I reckon Sachiko wrote those down herself,’
said Nagare, pouring Hisahiko some more tea.
‘I never even knew this existed,’ said Hisahiko, shutting the notebook and gently stroking its
cover.
‘You only ever ate one type of nikujaga stew, Hisahiko. One mother simply handed the baton38
over to another.’
‘So Sachiko went to the trouble of making a separate stew, just for me . . .’ murmured Hisahiko,
gazing into space as he remembered the two pots on the stove.
‘Still, I imagine that whatever that celebrity39 chef cooked up for you will make much better
content for a trendy women’s magazine. I caught a glimpse of it just now, and it’s certainly a good
fit for your image. Canned meat would come across a little rustic40, wouldn’t it?’
Hisahiko remained silent, still running a finger across the notebook.
‘Sachiko is very proud that you’ve made such a name for yourself, by the way. She’s got this
scrapbook full of cuttings from articles about you. Very grateful for that sizeable allowance you
send her every New Year, too. Though she hasn’t touched a single yen41 of it.’
‘I was hoping she’d use it to rebuild her house,’ said Hisahiko with a faint smile. ‘Or buy a new
one.’
‘She’s delighted that you’ve reached such dazzling heights. But she’s also worried you might
come tumbling down again one day,’ explained Nagare in an almost admonishing42 tone. ‘On the
off-chance that happens, she wants to be able to give you the money back. It doesn’t matter that
she’s not connected to you by blood – she’s always planning for her child’s future. That’s what
parents do.’
‘Thank you for everything.’ Hisahiko turned to Koishi. ‘So, how much do I owe you for this,
plus the meal last time?’
‘Just send whatever you feel is right to this account, please,’ said Koishi, handing over a slip of
paper with the relevant details.
‘Can I take the notebook and canned meat with me?’ Hisahiko asked Nagare.
‘Of course,’ said Nagare, looking Hisahiko in the eye. ‘I’ve got five cans of the stuff here. I
hope they won’t weigh you down too much.’
‘Let me get you a paper bag,’ said Koishi, opening a cupboard.
‘Don’t worry – I’ll just put them in here,’ said Hisahiko, immediately tucking them into his
pouch43, which he hugged to his chest.
‘I’ll be looking forward to that issue of Enchant44!’ said Koishi as she slid open the door to the
restaurant.
‘I’ll be sure to send you a copy when it’s out.’ As Hisahiko uttered his reply, Drowsy45 came
padding over to where he stood.
‘Cats really do have it easy, don’t they? What’s its name?’ asked Hisahiko, stooping to stroke
the animal.
‘Drowsy. Always snoozing away, you see.’ Koishi squatted46 down next to him, and the cat gave
a single miaow.
‘Give Akane my regards,’ said Nagare as Hisahiko rose to his feet.
‘Sorry, but I can’t help asking,’ said Hisahiko, turning to face Nagare. ‘How do you know
Akane?’
‘She was friends with my wife before she passed away. My wife had known her since before we
got married. She’s like a little sister to me.’
‘That explains the advert47 in Gourmet48 Monthly, then,’ said Hisahiko, with a satisfied nod.
‘It’s a real food magazine, that,’ said Nagare, pursing his lips. ‘Not just some lightweight
listings job. I reckoned that if we advertised in there, we’d be sure to get some decent clients – and
anyone who did manage to find us would be worth knowing.’
‘Please, if you’re buying Gourmet Monthly, promise you’ll look after it. And Akane too,’ said
Koishi.
Hisahiko bowed back, then set off west down the street. Nagare bowed in the direction of his
departing figure, and Koishi followed suit.
‘So, which nikujaga do you think he’ll choose?’ asked Koishi once they were back inside.
‘I’m not sure it matters,’ replied Nagare casually49.
‘See how he stroked Drowsy this time?’ said Koishi, folding her arms. ‘Last time he didn’t even
seem to notice him. He must be in quite a different frame of mind.’
‘Becoming something of a detective yourself, eh?’
‘So you noticed it too?’
‘Of course. Anyway, how about a night-time picnic under the cherry blossoms later? We can
make a bento box for the occasion.’
‘Brilliant idea, Dad. Let’s take plenty to drink, too. Where would be good?’
‘You know the Nakaragi path along the Kamogawa river? I hear the weeping cherries along
there are looking spectacular. We can take the subway to Kita-Oji.’
‘Don’t you think Mum’ll feel left out?’ said Koishi, looking over at the altar.
‘We’ll just have to make enough for the three of us, and take her photo with us,’ said Nagare,
walking into the kitchen.
‘Oh. There’s something else we should take,’ said Koishi, rushing into the living room and
opening the chest of drawers.
‘What’s that?’ said Nagare, peering over her shoulder.
‘This,’ said Koishi, clutching a pale pink stole to her chest. ‘She always wore it. It’s dyed with
cherry blossom. Remember it?’
‘Of course I do. I bought her it when we went to Shinshu on holiday, but then we left it on the
train home. Kikuko was so devastated50 that she burst into tears. And then we managed to get it
back, and she was so relieved that she started crying all over again . . .’ Nagare’s own eyes had
begun to glisten36.
‘You know what, Dad?’ said Koishi, tears trickling51 down her cheeks as she hugged the stole. ‘I
think one mum is plenty for me.’
Nagare smiled. ‘You’re more like her every day.’
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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2
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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5
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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6
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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9
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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10
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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12
cuisine
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| n.烹调，烹饪法 | |
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13
squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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14
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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15
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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16
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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17
pigment
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| n.天然色素，干粉颜料 | |
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18
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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19
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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20
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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23
mash
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| n.麦芽浆，糊状物，土豆泥；v.把…捣成糊状，挑逗，调情 | |
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24
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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invoice
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| vt.开发票；n.发票，装货清单 | |
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26
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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27
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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29
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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30
corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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31
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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32
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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33
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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34
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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38
baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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39
celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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40
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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yen
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| n. 日元；热望 | |
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42
admonishing
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| v.劝告( admonish的现在分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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43
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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44
enchant
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| vt.使陶醉，使入迷；使着魔，用妖术迷惑 | |
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45
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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46
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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47
advert
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| vi.注意，留意，言及；n.广告 | |
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48
gourmet
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| n.食物品尝家；adj.出于美食家之手的 | |
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49
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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50
devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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