Falling for Japan, One Bite at a Time

Tokyo was where it began bright, fast, and endlessly delicious. My first night, I ducked into a tiny ramen shop, barely wide enough for a row of stools. I ordered nervously, pointing at the vending machine buttons like a tourist cliché, but what arrived felt almost sacred: a steaming bowl of tonkotsu ramen, rich and creamy, topped with slices of tender pork that melted without effort. Around me, no one spoke. The only sounds were slurping, the clink of chopsticks, and the quiet understanding that this sacred bowl deserved my full attention.

A stop to a hidden speakeasy bar, on the 5^th floor of a random building, where the nicest old man with his son were serving beautifully crafted cocktails and serving each guest as if we were regulars. Jazz music flowed from the piano and out through the open window onto the street, where voices and passing sounds seemed to accompany the musician like a band, making the whole atmosphere feel magical.

Kyoto felt like a conversation with the past. The food there carried a kind of quiet elegance I hadn’t encountered before. I tried my first ​*Sukiyaki here was a moment when I paused – not because I was full, but because I didn’t want the experience to end. Later, wandering through narrow streets, I picked up a matcha gelato, that felt real and deeply tasty, even something as simple as that felt intentional, as if it had a story to tell.

*Sukiyaki is a popular Japanese nabemono (hot pot) dish featuring thinly sliced beef, tofu, and vegetables simmered at the table in a shallow iron pot. It uses a sweet-and-savoury broth made of soy sauce, sugar, and sake (warishita), and is typically served with a raw egg dip]