Bonus Short Stories
Scene #20: What Lies at the End of Just Right
All right, let’s see what you can do...
Since it was Golden Week, the family had taken the Shinkansen and gone on a little vacation. There was a little time before they would be taking the train back, so they decided to get something to eat while they waited, and that was how they ended up coming to this place.
The name of the restaurant was a little odd, but it apparently had something to do with Dazai Osamu, an author Monzo was familiar with. Dazai was a native of Aomori, and this place was in the commercial area connected to Shin-Aomori Station. Monzo had eaten enough at the hotel’s breakfast buffet to make the other customers look at him funny, and pushed the limits of what he could consume for lunch, too, so he was in the mood for something uncharacteristically light. He settled on shijimi ramen.
Hmm, maybe I should have gone for niboshi ramen instead. No, if I’m going to have niboshi, it has to be at Naki in Golden-gai. This place has a pretty solid menu, though, huh? The set meals look good, too. I know my stomach is a bit exhausted, but was it cowardly of me to settle for shijimi ramen? I always want to push myself when it comes to food...
While he was thinking about it, the shijimi ramen arrived. The restaurant was pretty crowded, almost at capacity, but it came fast despite that.
Oh, I like that. Having it come out quickly. Ramen should come out fast, and be eaten fast, too. The chef’s skill is important, as well, so, okay, it’s not all about speed. If they do their work slowly and thoroughly, that can be good, too...
First, he took a sip of soup.
“This is...”
He spoke without intending to.
...This. It’s so...
Monzo covered his eyes with his left hand.
Before now... I didn’t know. Didn’t know anything. All this time... Not one thing...
IT’S A SHIJIMI.
Or rather, THIS IS SHIJIMI.
No, THIS IS THE SHIJIIIIMIIII.
The taste of shijimi... It’s deep... This... This is truly nutritious and delicious...
Monzo was in high school. Naturally, as a minor, he didn’t drink alcohol, so this was only his imagination, but this would probably taste unbelievably good after a stiff drink.
I can feel it...
The shijimi nutrients slid down his esophagus, reaching his stomach, where they were absorbed through its walls, and spread to cells throughout his body. He more than just felt it. He almost had to wonder if he’d just taken a hit of some crazy drug. It was like he was getting healthier by the second. But more than that, it was delicious. Beyond delicious.
Whew... This stuff... I’m beat. Just beat. I surrender...
He looked around the restaurant. There was a sign kindly informing him that, if the taste was too strong, he could dilute it with more broth. But there was no need. Though, it was certainly true that it might have been a little salty.
But it’s just right... Just right. There’s probably nothing more “right” in the whole world. Just right...
It didn’t overstate itself. The noodles were good, too. Just right. The more he drank the soup, and the more he slurped the noodles, the more he felt himself swimming in that ocean of “just right”-ness. It was just right.
This level of “just right” deserves four stars...
The Michelin Guide only went up to three stars, but Monzo sometimes recognized a fourth star. It was just right. Who knew that “just right” could be such a wonderful thing? Monzo didn’t. It was just right. This was something he wanted more of. He wanted it like crazy now.
If this place were in my neighborhood...
He’d be a regular.
He would come here at least once a week, seeking this “just right” flavor. Its rightness would reset his senses, and with that, he would be able to enjoy all sorts of other flavors all the more.
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