chapter 2: beef stew

1

the ginkgo trees in front of higashi honganji temple had lost all their leaves.

it was december, and the two elderly women in brightly coloured kimonos making their way

past the monks bustling around the temple made for an eye-catching sight. an employee who had

just emerged from a religious clothing shop on shomen-dori, clutching a large cardboard box,

stared at them as if thinking: who on earth are they?

striding along at a pace wholly out of keeping with their traditional attire, they eventually came

to a halt in front of a nondescript, shabby-looking building.

‘so this is the place with the detective who’ll help me find that dish?’

nobuko nadaya, a wisteria-coloured cape around her shoulders, was staring open-mouthed at

the building.

‘yes. there’s no sign, but it’s called the kamogawa diner,’ replied tae kurusu, pulling the

sliding aluminium door open. nobuko reluctantly followed her into the restaurant.

‘come on in! we were worried about you, tae – it’s getting late!’ said koishi kamogawa,

flashing a smile. she was wearing a white apron on top of a black trouser suit.

‘we stopped to pray at higashi on the way. couldn’t just walk past it, could we?’ said tae,

removing her auburn shawl and draping it over the back of a chair.

from the kitchen peered nagare kamogawa. ‘you must be cold!’

‘ah, nagare, let me introduce you. this is nobuko nadaya, an old school friend of mine.’

prompted by a nudge in the back from tae, nobuko bowed her head demurely.

‘nagare kamogawa. this is my daughter, koishi.’ nagare had emerged from the kitchen, and

wiped his hands on his apron as he bowed.

‘i’m impressed you found us,’ said koishi, glancing at nobuko and tae in turn.

‘well, now that you mention it, you need to do something about that half-baked advert of

yours!’ snapped tae. ‘i managed to work it out because nobuko here showed me a copy of

gourmet monthly and i happened to recognize the name kamogawa. without that, there’s no way

any normal person could find their way here with only the advert to guide them.’

‘and yet here you are. must be fate, don’t you think? you know, i rather like the idea of

connecting with people through a one-line advertisement in a magazine,’ said nagare, pursing his

lips.

‘well, we’re here now. that’s the important thing!’ nobuko interceded.

‘thank you, nobuko,’ said nagare. ‘you seem the quiet type – at least compared to tae here!’

‘my, how rude!’ exclaimed tae, her nostrils twitching.

‘the two of us might seem like chalk and cheese, but we’ve always been very close,’ said

nobuko glancing sideways at tae.

‘so, what can i get you to drink?’ asked koishi.

‘it’s a bit chilly, isn’t it – fancy a bottle of hot sake?’ said tae to nobuko.

‘oh, let’s not drink this afternoon,’ replied nobuko, as if admonishing her.

‘what’s the matter, nobuko? feeling out of sorts?’

‘no, nothing like that. i’m just not quite in the mood today.’ nobuko looked down at the table.

‘well, it’s not quite the dim sum you requested, but i think this should be just the thing to fill

you up,’ said nagare, placing a bento box in front of tae.

‘sorry for being so demanding,’ she said, and bowed slightly.

‘dad got quite nervous when he heard you were bringing a friend,’ said koishi in her ear. ‘he

was worried he might embarrass you!’

‘you didn’t have to tell her that!’ said nagare, glowering at koishi as he placed another bento

box in front of nobuko.

‘but this is . . .’ nobuko’s eyes widened at the sight of the black lacquered box.

‘traditional wajima ware,’ said nagare.

‘you see, nobuko, even the bento boxes are special. are you beginning to see why i spoke so

highly of this place?’ said tae, proudly puffing out her chest.

nobuko’s eyes lit up as she removed the lid. ‘it’s not just the box, either . . . look inside!’

‘how beautiful,’ said tae, her gaze darting from one part of the bento to the next.

‘i’ll guide you through it,’ said nagare. ‘see how it’s partitioned into four? in the top right is a

selection of smaller appetizers. in the bottom right is the grilled fish of the day – in this case,

teriyaki yellowtail. top left is a selection of sashimi and pickled dishes: akashi sea bream, kishu

tuna, and flash- grilled karatsu abalone. seared miyajima conger eel, served with pickled

cucumber and myoga ginger. and in the bottom left is the matsutake rice – the mushrooms are

from shinshu, and wonderfully fragrant. i’ll bring some soup over shortly. in the meantime,

enjoy!’

nagare bowed and turned back to the kitchen.

‘let’s tuck in,’ said tae, joining her hands together in appreciation before reaching for her

chopsticks.

‘it’s delicious,’ said nobuko, who had already reached into the bento and sampled the sea

bream.

‘the sashimi looks wonderful, but these appetizers are simply exquisite. let’s see . . . rolled

barracuda sushi, dashimaki omelette, and those look like quail tsukune balls. and this simmered

octopus – it just melts on your tongue!’ tae’s mouth was agape with delight.

‘i don’t think i’ve had a bento this nice since those tsujitomi ones we had at the tea ceremony.

how many years ago was that?’ asked nobuko, extending her chopsticks in the direction of the

octopus.

‘you’re right. those were certainly something, but these are just as good. ah, the aromas!’ tae

closed her eyes as she savoured a mouthful of the matsutake rice.

‘no need to overdo the compliments – they’ll go to his head!’ said koishi, pouring tea into their

cups and glancing towards the kitchen.

‘oh, nobuko – this young lady is the head of the detective agency. koishi, she’ll fill you in

shortly if that’s okay?’ said tae, putting down her chopsticks and becoming rather serious.

‘all i really do is conduct the initial interview. it’s my dad who does the real detective work,’

said koishi bashfully.

‘here’s your soup!’ said nagare, setting a bowl down next to each of the bento boxes.

‘and what have we here?’ asked tae, removing the lid from the negoro lacquerware bowl.

‘tilefish and crab meat broth. it’s chilly these days, so i grated some kudzu in to thicken it up –

you know, make it a little more warming. please, enjoy while it’s hot,’ replied nagare, tucking his

tray under his arm.

‘the yuzu has a wonderful aroma, too,’ said nobuko, bringing the bowl close to her nose.

‘that’s from a village called mizuo in the mountains west of kyoto. fragrant, isn’t it? well, i’ll

leave you to it.’

‘this grated kudzu really adds something,’ said tae to koishi, cupping the bowl in her hands.

‘piping hot – and delicious.’

‘nice subtle flavour, isn’t it?’ replied koishi, practically drooling as she watched. ‘we make a

hotpot version of it sometimes. put lightly seared tilefish and crab in the bottom of the pot, then

add some dashi stock and plenty of grated turnip. season it with some shichimi spice and yuzu,

and it’ll warm you right through.’

‘i suppose we should eat up!’ said tae to nobuko, as if to bring the conversation to a close.

‘there’s also dessert – sorry, i mean the mizugashi course. so please take your time,’ said

koishi, shrugging her shoulders.

‘that’s right, koishi. there’s no such thing as “dessert” in japanese cuisine. the fruit served at

the end of the meal is called mizugashi. we’re not in france, after all!’ said tae, her nostrils

flaring.

‘really, tae, you never change, do you? always fussing over the strangest things . . . i’m not

sure it really matters,’ said nobuko, setting down her bowl.

‘no, it does matter. if you mess around with language like that, it’s culture that suffers.

traditional japanese sweet dishes are in decline precisely because people insist on calling them

english words like “dessert”!’

nobuko watched tae put a piece of yellowtail in her mouth, skin and all, and decided to follow

suit. ‘i wonder how many years it’s been since the two of us had a nice meal like this together,’

she said, changing the subject.

‘why, we had that eel at nodaiwa in yokohama just three months ago. we drank plenty that

day, too!’ replied tae, setting down her chopsticks and taking a sip of tea.

‘oh yes. i’d forgotten all about that. i’ve been living in a bit of a daze for the past few months,

you see.’

‘because of this dish you’re after?’

‘yes. it was around six months ago that it all came back to me.’ nobuko finished eating and

replaced the lid on her bento box.

‘can i bring you some matcha tea?’ koishi asked tae in a curious tone of voice, as she brought

over the fruit.

‘not today, thank you. i think nobuko here is in a hurry.’

nobuko nodded slightly as if to confirm what her friend had said.

‘oh – is that a daishiro persimmon?’ asked tae. ‘i thought they were finished for the year.’

‘dai-shir-o?’ repeated nobuko, spoon in hand.

‘i suppose you don’t get them much up in tokyo,’ said tae, inserting her spoon into the fruit.

‘and this baccarat plate! the persimmon is so vivid against the crystal.’

‘not just any baccarat either. this looks like their harumi collection. you don’t see it very

often – even at high-end kaiseki restaurants. koishi, how on earth did it find its way here?’

koishi smiled at tae’s question. ‘it’s dad’s pride and joy. he has plenty more like it, too. mum

always scolded him for buying them. how much was the loan on that one, then, she used to say!’

‘koishi, quit talking nonsense and go get ready,’ said nagare, emerging from the kitchen.

‘yes, father, i’m on it!’ said koishi, pointedly shrugging her shoulders before removing her

white apron. ‘nobuko, i’ll be waiting for you in the back office.’

‘that daughter of mine really is impossible sometimes. the mouth on her!’ said nagare,

watching koishi make her exit.

‘such a lovely girl. always saying such clever things!’ said tae. there was the slightest hint of

sarcasm in her tone.

‘enjoy the food?’ nagare asked nobuko as he cleared away the bento boxes.

‘oh, it was delicious. i’ve always wanted to eat here, given how much tae seems to like it,’ said

nobuko, eliciting a chuckle from her friend.

‘well, nobuko, shall i show you to the office? and tae, do you mind waiting here?’ asked

nagare, looking at the clock on the wall. nobuko glanced sideways at tae, then got reluctantly to

her feet. she walked a few steps behind nagare as he led the way. after a moment, he stopped and

turned. ‘having second thoughts, are we?’

‘just feeling a little . . . nervous,’ said nobuko, looking down at the floor. ‘now that i’m here

and everything.’

‘well, you’ve come all this way. might as well at least have a little chat!’

nagare turned away and set off again. nobuko walked slowly behind him, looking at the

photographs that filled the walls.

‘this is mainly food i’ve cooked. though there are a few other old photos mixed in there,’

explained nagare. nobuko remained silent, her eyes glued to one photo in particular.

‘oh, that’s a crossing on the eizan line,’ said nagare, following nobuko’s gaze. ‘my wife and i

took the photo to commemorate our first ride on it together. well, here we are!’ nagare opened the

door to reveal two sofas facing each other. koishi was already seated on the one furthest away.

‘come on in!’ she called.

nobuko slowly walked into the room.

‘oh, there’s no need to sit right at the end like that! pop yourself in the middle. i don’t bite, i

promise!’ said koishi with a grin.

‘sorry – i’m just not used to this.’

‘oh, i don’t think anyone is! now, if you could just write your name, age, date of birth, address

and contact details down here . . .’

koishi placed a folder on the low table between them. with what seemed like sudden resolve,

nobuko began scribbling away.

‘what beautiful handwriting you have!’

‘you say the most charming things,’ said nobuko, returning the folder.

‘so, what kind of dish are you looking for?’ said koishi, opening her notebook as she cut to the

chase.

‘actually, i don’t really remember. you see, it’s something i’ve only eaten once – and it was

over fifty years ago,’ replied nobuko, a perplexed look on her face.

‘well, tell me what you do remember. was it meat, fish or vegetables?’

‘i think it was some kind of stewed meat and vegetables.’

‘japanese-style or western-style?’

‘western. now that i think about it, it might have been a beef stew.’

‘and where did you eat it? in a restaurant?’

after a short pause, nobuko replied: ‘yes, a restaurant. in kyoto.’

‘which restaurant in kyoto?’

‘that i don’t remember at all.’

‘how about even a rough location?’

‘i’m sorry, i just can’t seem to . . .’ nobuko looked down at the low table.

‘even the slightest hint will go a long way.’

‘the thing is, i had such a big shock while i was eating it that i’ve lost all memory of what

happened before and after. and before i knew it, i was back at my uncle’s house . . .’

‘and where was that?’

‘kitahama.’

‘that’s not in kyoto, is it?’ koishi looked up from her notebook.

‘no, osaka.’

‘okay, but it was at a restaurant in kyoto that you ate this beef stew . . . would you mind telling

me a little more about that shock you mentioned?’ said koishi, glancing encouragingly at nobuko.

‘in 1957, about fifty-five years ago, i was attending a women’s college in yokohama. that’s

where i became friends with tae. i was studying japanese classical literature. you know – the

tale of genji, the ten foot square hut, the tale of the heike . . . i just found it all so fascinating.

around that time, i read a paper by a student researching the same field at kyoto university, and

we seemed to have similar interests, so i decided to write to him. we exchanged a few letters after

that, and then it was here in kyoto that we met for the first time. i happened to be staying with my

uncle in osaka for a week, you see.’ nobuko drank all her tea in one gulp, as if to quench her

thirst.

‘so that was your first meeting – and your first date,’ said koishi, her eyes widening.

‘i suppose nowadays people would call it a date, wouldn’t they? i just thought of it as a chance

to exchange our opinions about literature!’

‘but the two of you hit it off?’

‘yes, i suppose we did. we got completely wrapped up in a conversation about the ten foot

square hut. actually, it was mainly him telling me all sorts of interesting things about it.’ a

dreamlike look came over nobuko as koishi scribbled away.

‘it wasn’t just the conversation you found interesting, was it? sounds like you were quite taken

with the young man, too,’ said koishi without looking up from her notebook. nobuko’s cheeks

turned red with an almost girlish embarrassment.

‘well, i don’t know about that . . .’

‘i’m still wondering what it was that you found so shocking,’ said koishi with a puzzled

expression.

‘well, you have to remember that in those days, people couldn’t act as freely as they can now.

so when, after our long conversation, he asked me if i’d join him for dinner, i have to admit i was

quite unsure. it all seemed a little improper.’

‘gosh. i’m sure glad i wasn’t born that long ago,’ blurted koishi, before hurriedly covering her

mouth as if trying to take her words back.

‘anyway, i was already feeling rather overwhelmed by it all. then, while we were eating, he

suddenly asked me a rather different question, and i completely panicked.’

‘what, did he ask you out?’ asked koishi, peering at nobuko.

‘oh, i don’t think i’d have dashed out of the restaurant over something like that.’

‘wait . . . he didn’t propose, did he?’ asked koishi, her eyes widening. rather than denying or

confirming this suggestion, nobuko simply turned her head and remained silent.

koishi leaned forward. ‘well, what did you say?’

‘i didn’t even answer. i just ran right out of there,’ replied nobuko, her eyes downcast.

‘and what became of the young man?’

‘i don’t know. i never saw him again.’

‘wow. so, he proposed to you, and to this day, fifty-five years later, you haven’t heard a thing

from him?’ koishi leaned back on the sofa.

‘well, what would you have done?’ asked nobuko, finally looking up.

‘i’m sorry. you didn’t come here for a therapy session, did you. it’s that beef stew you wanted

us to find. could you tell me a little more about it?’ asked koishi, sitting up again.

‘i’d only managed half of it before i ran out of the restaurant, so i really don’t remember it very

well.’

‘hmm. i wonder how many places were serving beef stew in kyoto in 1957 . . .’ said koishi,

half to herself, as she jotted down another note.

‘potatoes and carrots,’ murmured nobuko, her voice barely audible.

‘sorry, what was that?’ koishi’s ears had pricked up, pen ready in her hand.

‘when he’d taken our order, the chef started peeling potatoes and carrots, and then he put them

in a big pot . . .’ replied nobuko, her eyes closed.

‘must have taken a while! i wonder if the customers minded waiting like that. couldn’t he have

just warmed up some stew he’d made earlier?’ asked koishi, a doubtful expression on her face.

‘while we were waiting for our food, this wonderful smell came wafting over,’ said nobuko,

her gaze drifting across the ceiling as she recalled the scene.

‘and you’re sure he wasn’t just asking you out?’

‘at first i thought he might be. when the food finally arrived, and i tried a mouthful, i couldn’t

believe how good it tasted. i remember thinking i’d never had anything like it. my father did like

his meat, and we’d had stews at home before, but this was on a whole different level. the flavour

was wonderfully rich, without being too overwhelming. then, about halfway through our meal, he

suddenly came out with . . .’

‘the proposal. then you got up and dashed out of there. by the way, what was his name?’

‘nemoto,’ said nobuko, looking up at the ceiling again. ‘or nejima. no, wait, maybe it was

nekawa . . .’

koishi was dumbfounded. ‘you’ve forgotten the name of the man who proposed to you?’

nobuko nodded. ‘the only part i’m sure about is the ne, because it means “mouse” and he kept

joking about how he was born in the year of the mouse. oh, and i’m pretty certain he lived in

kamigyo ward.’

koishi scribbled away.

‘i must have looked rather out of sorts when i got back to my uncle’s house in osaka, because

he and my aunt asked me what had happened. i ended up confessing everything. they

immediately got in touch with my parents, who made me get rid of all his letters and everything

else to do with him. i remember thinking i just needed to erase him from my memory.’

‘well, it sounds like tracking him down will be our best bet,’ said koishi, giving her pen a good

shake. ‘i could do with another hint. anything will help. where did you go before the restaurant,

for example?’

‘before the restaurant . . . i think we walked a lot . . . ah, yes, we were walking in a forest. a

deep, dark forest.’

‘a forest,’ said koishi, recording this detail in her notebook. ‘well, kyoto is surrounded by

mountains on three sides, and they’re all covered in trees, so i’m afraid that doesn’t help me much

. . .’

‘oh – when we came out of the forest there was a shrine. we prayed there, and then . . .’

‘kyoto has a pretty endless amount of shrines next to forests, too,’ said koishi, still scribbling

away. ‘i do appreciate you trying to remember everything. but with this little to go on, even dad

might struggle . . .’ she sighed as she leafed through the pages of her notebook.

‘it’s going to be tricky, then?’ asked nobuko, her shoulders drooping.

‘can i ask what made you want to eat this beef stew again after all these years?’

nobuko sighed again. ‘i have a daughter, you see. she turned forty this year, but she’s still

single. i think she’s always been reluctant to leave me on my own, what with my husband dying

early and everything. anyway, about six months ago, someone proposed to her.’

a twinkle came into her eyes as she continued. ‘she told me she wasn’t sure whether to accept.

then she asked me how my husband had proposed. i didn’t know what to tell her. ours was an

arranged marriage, so there was never the opportunity for that kind of thing. no – all that came to

my mind when i heard the word “proposal” was . . .’

‘that day fifty-five years ago.’

nobuko nodded. ‘when i didn’t even manage to reply. of course, it’s not like i can give him an

answer after all these years, but i do find myself wondering what my life would have been like if

i’d stayed in that restaurant and finished my meal.’

‘this has all been very helpful. let’s hope dad can find that beef stew!’ said koishi, snapping

her notebook shut.

‘thank you very much,’ said nobuko, bowing her head and then hesitantly getting to her feet.

when they returned down the corridor to the restaurant, they found nagare and tae sitting

opposite each other, deep in conversation.

‘well?’ asked tae. ‘did you tell koishi all about the stew?’

‘yes. she was very nice and thorough,’ replied nobuko, her expression still somewhat dazed.

‘have you scheduled nobuko’s next visit, then, koishi?’ asked nagare.

‘oops, i forgot the most important part. nobuko – it normally takes us about two weeks to track

down the dish in question and serve it up to you. how does coming back in a fortnight sound?’

‘yes, that’ll be fine,’ replied nobuko readily.

‘i’ll send a reminder closer to the time,’ said koishi, putting her folder and notebook down on

the table.

‘so, how much do i owe you?’ asked nobuko, opening her handbag.

‘for the detective service, we take payment on delivery, so that can wait until your next visit.

as for your meal . . .’ koishi glanced at her father.

‘tae here has already paid for the two of you,’ said nagare.

‘oh no, that won’t do! we’ll pay separately!’ said nobuko, holding her purse out.

‘you paid last time, remember? that expensive eel we had!’ said tae, getting to her feet as if to

signal the end of the exchange.

‘i’m glad we could have such a leisurely chat,’ said nagare, looking at tae.

‘oh, me too. though i’m afraid i may have said too much,’ said tae, glancing sideways at

nobuko.

‘not again! drowsy, you can’t just come wandering in here!’ the tabby cat had strolled through

the door as soon as koishi opened it.

‘listen here, you,’ said nagare, glaring at the cat. ‘these two are wearing beautiful kimonos, so

don’t even think about going near them.’

tae and nobuko left the restaurant and began slowly strolling west. nagare and koishi watched

their figures recede until they turned a corner.

‘i think this one might be a little tricky, dad,’ said koishi, holding out her notebook.

‘well, it’s never exactly easy,’ replied nagare from across the restaurant table where they were

sitting, as he opened the notebook.

‘it’s a beef stew she wants us to recreate, but it’s a little complicated. nobuko’s memory is . . .

patchy,’ said koishi, glancing at the page nagare was studying and pointing to her notes.

‘beef stew, eh?’ said nagare. ‘i haven’t eaten that in a while. and what’s this . . . a shrine next

to a forest, okay. only started peeling the vegetables once they’d ordered. born in the year of the

mouse. uncle’s house in kitahama, osaka. koishi, what on earth . . .’

‘reckon you can do it?’

‘you’re going to have to give me a few more details,’ said nagare, propping his head in his

hands.

koishi relayed everything nobuko had told her. nagare nodded along, taking notes of his own.

when he remained silent, koishi peered at him.

‘the beef stew itself shouldn’t be too hard to recreate,’ said nagare, his gaze still tilted down at

the notebook.

‘really?’ asked koishi, her eyes widening.

‘that’s not the hard part,’ replied nagare with a frown.

‘but there’s a hitch?’ koishi’s expression was quizzical.

‘oh, just a few things to figure out,’ said nagare vaguely, getting to his feet. ‘first of all, let’s

track down that stew.’