On a cold spring morning (or was it winter?), during our first (or was it second?) Japan trip together, Fafa and I walked around Shibuya (or was it Shinjuku?), Tokyo, to find a Japanese breakfast place. As it turned out, the onigiri we got from Lawson the night before, which we gobbled less than an hour earlier, wasn’t filling enough.
There weren’t many restaurants open then (or maybe we couldn’t see them). Maybe eating Japanese breakfast outside, like it’s a proper affair, like how it’s in the place we flew from, was just not a thing in Japan.
So anyway, when we saw people going inside a sliding door decorated with Noren, we followed them.
It was a small restaurant (I think).
We sat on the u-shaped kitchen counter after bowing and being bowed a few times.
There was no English menu, but the Japanese breakfast menu had cute hand-drawn pictures.
“We got only a few options,” I told Fafa, who was still a Japanese newbie then, before informing him that I was considering getting the fish and rice combo.
“Fish for breakfast??” I remember he protested.
I shrugged. That was what I wanted; also, I wasn’t sure what the other options were, even based on the drawing.
To my surprise, when the waiter asked us for our order, Fafa chimed in with the number “two” hand gesture.
“Oh well, I guess it’s no longer weird, hey?” I teased him. He gave me the exact reason for not knowing what other drawn pictures were supposed to be and not wanting to risk it.
The food came quickly (or was I too engrossed with the surroundings to notice the time it took). A plate of fried salty fish (was it salmon), a bowl of fluffy hot rice, and maybe a side of miso.
I picked the fish on the rice and took my first spoonful (or should I say chopstick full).
It was scrumptious (no, no, even better than that!)
We sat in silence. Mostly. A few times, we caught each other eyes and grinned in delight. Then there was inappropriate “ummm…” “nyammmm“-ing until the grain of rice was polished from the red lacquer bowl.
It was the best Japanese breakfast I have ever had so far.
Happy and high on rice, we left soon after.
I think about this day often.
Regretting not taking any picture (or did I) nor noting down the name of the place. Still, I am more than glad that we got to experience what slowly feels like an elusive memory of our minds colliding collectively.
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