Page 36 of A Serving of Hope

“Ms. Saki Morishita, yes? And you’re a jewelry designer? Sounds like a lovely line of work.”

“Thank you. I do all sorts of accessories, actually.”

“Now then,” said Koishi, opening her notebook and getting to the point. “What dish would you like us to recreate?”

“Hiyashi-chuka.”

“As in, reimen? The chilled noodles you get in the summer?”

“No, not reimen. Hiyashi-chuka.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Not at all. Reimen are the Korean-style cold noodles they serve at yakiniku restaurants, while hiyashi-chuka means chilled noodles served in a sweet-and-sour sauce or broth. They’re completely different dishes.” Saki cocked her head doubtfully. “Are you sure I can trust you with this?”

“My apologies,” replied Koishi with an easy smile. “Must be a Tokyo distinction. Here in Kyoto we call them both reimen. I mean, the word just means ‘cold noodles.’ ”

Saki’s eyes widened. “But…that must get confusing. What if they serve you the wrong dish?”

“Well, yakiniku joints serve the Korean-style noodles, and everywhere else serves the other type. There isn’t much room for mix-ups. Anyway,” Koishi continued calmly. “Tell me about this hiyashi-chuka. When and where did you have it?”

“I had it as a little girl, in the Fukui countryside,” Saki said in a flat tone. “We used to spend our summers at my father’s family home, where my grandmother would make it for me.”

“May I ask her name?”

“Kaneko Sadaoka.”

“So your father’s from Fukui, then,” said Koishi, jotting the name down in her notebook. “Which part, exactly?”

“The Takahama area. I don’t know the exact address. We stopped going after I started middle school.”

Koishi’s eyes twinkled with recognition. “Takahama. With the beach where everyone goes to swim?”

“Yes. It was right behind my grandmother’s house. But I was never allowed. My mother was very strict about that.”

Koishi stopped scribbling. “How come? You had the sea right on your doorstep…”

“Well, it’d be dangerous, for one thing. And it looked rather dirty.”

“Really? When I was a kid, my mom took me all the time. I used to spend all day splashing about in the sea.”

“My father married into the Morishita family. They had a house in Kotsubo, on the Shonan coast just south of Tokyo. There was a huge pool in the garden, so I swam there instead. I only visited my grandmother in Takahama rarely, when my father insisted on dragging me along.”

Koishi glanced at the form Saki had filled out. “And you’re still living there now—at your mother’s family home in Kotsubo?”

“That’s right. I had my own house and residence built on the grounds.”

“The Shonan coast, eh? Must be worlds apart from Takahama.”

“You could say that. The Takahama property was large enough, but the house itself was a rickety old wooden structure—and with only my grandmother to look after it, it wasn’t in very good shape. The bathroom was so grimy it made my skin crawl.”

“Still, your grandma knew how to make an amazing hiyashi-chuka.”

“That’s the strange part. I don’t remember it being that special, but my father keeps insisting it was my favorite.”

“Well, if your father says so…”

Saki’s mouth twisted into a smile. “If he says so, yes.”