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The Kamogawa Food Detectives

Chapter 5: Napolitan Spaghetti 2
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2

‘rain again,’ muttered asuka, shrugging slightly as she made her way out of kyoto station and

onto karasuma-dori.

the rainy season hadn’t ended yet, she reminded herself as she made her way north up the

avenue. this sort of dreary weather was only to be expected.

the rain pattered louder and louder on her umbrella. as she waited by the pedestrian crossing,

raindrops splashed mercilessly onto her feet. when she arrived in front of the kamogawa diner,

asuka folded up her umbrella and took a long, deep breath.

‘welcome!’ called koishi, sliding open the door. ‘more rain, eh!’

‘hello again,’ said asuka, removing her red raincoat and hanging it from a hook on the wall.

it was after lunchtime, and it seemed the restaurant’s customers had already departed. the place

was empty, but there were traces of various meals still on the tables. it had been the same last

time: no one in sight, and yet a feeling of human warmth filled the space. asuka thought to herself,

not for the first time, that this really was quite an unusual restaurant.

‘here you go,’ said koishi, holding out a towel.

‘thanks.’ asuka began patting her tights dry.

‘you must be hungry,’ said nagare, removing his chef’s hat as he emerged from the kitchen.

‘it’ll be ready in just a minute!’

‘wonderful,’ said asuka with a bow. when she looked back up, nagare flashed her a smile,

then returned to the kitchen. asuka handed the towel back to koishi, then took a seat.

‘how’s your grandfather doing, then?’ asked koishi, pouring some tea from her kiyomizu-ware

teapot.

‘i went to see him the day before yesterday. but he still doesn’t seem to recognize me . . .’ a

shadow crept over asuka’s face.

‘that must be really tough,’ said koishi, a glum look coming over her own features.

the clanging of a frying pan came from the kitchen, and an appetizing smell began to waft into

the room. gathering herself, koishi placed a pink mat in front of asuka, along with a fork.

‘koishi, it’s almost ready,’ called nagare from the kitchen. ‘help her with the apron, would

you?’

‘can’t have your clothes getting stained, can we!’ said koishi, placing a white apron over

asuka’s beige dress and tying the straps at the back of her neck. asuka felt slightly bewildered by

what was about to happen.

‘here we are!’ said nagare, hurrying over with a silver tray in his hands. ‘the sauce will

splatter, so watch out!’ on the mat in front of her, he placed a wooden dish on top of which was a

round griddle dish that was hissing and crackling away. asuka instinctively arched away from the

plate.

‘please, tuck in while it’s hot. but watch you don’t burn your mouth this time,’ smiled nagare,

standing at her side.

‘but this is . . .’ asuka’s eyes had opened wide.

‘is it all coming back? if i’m not mistaken, this is the spaghetti you had with your grandad that

time. please, enjoy!’ nagare placed a small bottle of tabasco on the table, tucked the silver tray

under one arm, and headed back to the kitchen.

‘here’s some chilled water!’ said koishi, setting a glass and pitcher down on the table before

following nagare into the kitchen.

on the sizzling griddle dish was a mound of spaghetti coated in a red tomato sauce. but the rest

of the plate’s surface was covered by a layer of whisked egg, so that the other dominant colour

was yellow. three frankfurters, split down the middle, adorned the mound of spaghetti. asuka

joined her hands together, then hastily reached for her fork.

‘agh!’ she winced as she thrust the first mouthful of spaghetti into her mouth.

the pasta that was steaming away on the hot plate in front of her was incomparably hotter than

regular spaghetti. she was probably going to burn the inside of her mouth, but it was just too

delicious, and she simply couldn’t bear the idea of waiting for it to cool.

‘mmm . . .’ she murmured as she twisted the spaghetti onto her fork.

she tried one of the frankfurters. there was a satisfying crunch as she bit into it and its skin

burst. meanwhile, the egg was cooking away on the plate, getting firmer and firmer. asuka

worked some of it into a forkful of spaghetti, then inserted the whole thing into her mouth.

‘what a combination!’ she said to herself. tears were running down her cheeks.

her thoughts turned to memories of her grandfather. her primary school entrance ceremony –

and after that, middle and high school, too. he’d always been the one who was there for her – not

her mother or father, but chichiro. her grandfather.

‘looks like we got it right, then?’ asked nagare, emerging from the kitchen.

‘yep,’ asuka replied simply as she dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief.

‘apparently, they don’t actually call it napolitan at the restaurant in question. they just call it

“italian”. it’s a place called chef, in nagoya. although they’re actually more known for their

ankake spaghetti.’

‘so we ate it in . . . nagoya?’ asuka seemed surprised by the location.

‘yes. i think your trip looked something like this,’ said nagare, opening up a map on the table

while asuka and koishi peered over.

‘i reckon you were heading for toba, in mie prefecture. your grandfather was probably taking

you to the aquarium there. kids love that place. and if you stayed at a hotel by the sea, then took a

ferry the next day, then your route would have been something like this . . .’ nagare drew a red

line across the map.

‘we stayed the night in irago?’ asked asuka, in a curious voice.

‘i reckon those bright lights you remember were from a denshogiku farm.’

‘den-sho-giku?’ repeated asuka and koishi in unison.

‘it’s a special way of growing chrysanthemums. that area – the atsumi peninsula – is famous

for it. they grow the plants in a greenhouse, and keep the lights on nice and bright all night long.

that way, they can control when they blossom.’ nagare got out a tablet and started swiping

through a series of photos. ‘they look quite special at night, don’t they!’

‘so that’s what i was remembering?’ asked asuka, a little doubtfully.

‘you must have set off quite late, for whatever reason. your grandfather wanted to take you for

a ferry ride. i reckon you rented a car at toyohashi, then spent the night in irago. the next

morning you took the ferry to toba. you spent the day there, then drove back around the

peninsula to nagoya. that seems to have been your itinerary.’

‘hmm, denshogiku . . . now that you mention it, i feel like we learned about that in school!’

said koishi, nodding as she folded her arms.

‘driving north from toba along the ise bay would take you to nagoya. you dropped the rental

car off there and took the bullet train back to hamamatsu. but before that, you stopped by that

restaurant. i’m sure your grandfather couldn’t resist the chance to enjoy a good meal. finishing the

trip with a plate of spaghetti at chef was probably something he’d been planning from the start.

it’s the kind of thing he knew a kid would enjoy. i bet he couldn’t wait for you to try it.’

nagare continued swiping through his photos, until he found one of the restaurant in question.

‘that’s the place, is it?’ said asuka, her voice filling with emotion as a smile spread across her

face.

‘apparently lots of people like to make a deliberately long stopover in nagoya, just so they can

visit this restaurant. what they call “italian” in nagoya isn’t quite the same as the usual napolitan.

you pour some whisked egg onto a hot plate, then add the spaghetti on top. that yellow colour

you remember must have been the egg. as for the red bottle that your grandfather took a photo

of,’ said nagare, swiping through the photos on the tablet, ‘that must have been this. a huge bottle

of tabasco. i couldn’t help snapping a photo of it myself.’

‘tabasco!’ exclaimed asuka, picking up the small bottle of sauce on the table and comparing it

with the one in the photo. then, fork back in hand, she polished off the rest of her meal, scraping

up all the egg that had stuck to the griddle dish and devouring it along with every remaining strand

of spaghetti.

when she was done, she gazed at the now-empty dish for a moment, before joining her palms

together and thanking nagare for the meal.

‘how old is your grandfather now?’ asked nagare, who had been watching her finish the meal.

‘he turned seventy-five last month,’ replied asuka.

‘still young, isn’t he! well, i hope this spaghetti triggers some memories.’

‘i hope so too . . .’ said asuka in a quiet voice.

at nagare’s signal, koishi set a paper bag down on the table.

‘of course, taking him to the restaurant would be ideal,’ said nagare. ‘but if that’s not possible,

you’ll have to cook it for him yourself. i’ve prepared a set of ingredients together with a griddle

dish. i don’t know if you can really call it a recipe, but i’ve written down some instructions, too.’

asuka smiled for a moment. then, with what seemed like sudden resolve, she sprang to her feet

and bowed deeply to koishi and nagare.

‘thank you so much, really. how should i pay?’ she asked, getting her purse out of her bag.

‘however much you think it was worth. please just transfer it to this account,’ said koishi,

handing her a slip of paper.

‘got it. i’ll do it as soon as i get home.’

‘you’re still a student, aren’t you? don’t go overboard. a little will be just fine!’ said koishi,

smiling at her.

‘thanks. i appreciate it.’ asuka bowed again to them both, pulled on her red raincoat, and

opened the sliding door.

‘oh, drowsy, you really can’t come in here!’ said koishi, chiding the tabby who was poking a

foot through the door.

‘poor thing, sitting out here in the rain. what’s its name?’ asked asuka, squatting to pet the cat.

‘drowsy,’ said koishi, crouching by her side. ‘always lying around with his eyes half-closed,

you see.’

‘looks like the rain has passed, eh?’ said nagare, holding out a palm towards the sky. weak

sunlight was filtering through the clouds.

‘can i ask you something?’ said asuka, looking nagare in the eye as she stood up.

‘of course,’ said nagare, returning her gaze.

‘why do you think i remember that spaghetti in particular, out of all the other dishes i ate with

grandad?’

‘well, this is just a guess, but . . .’ nagare paused and took a breath. ‘i wonder if this trip was

the first time your grandfather treated you like a grown-up.’

asuka’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘until then, you’d probably always just been given whatever everyone else was having. but this

trip marked the beginning of your life as an individual, and that plate of spaghetti was the proof.

your own meal, all to yourself – right there in front of you. you must have been over the moon.’

asuka simply gaped at him, seemingly lost for words.

‘that was probably also why you started crying whenever you ate something delicious. your

grandfather must have taught you that eating good food wasn’t just about enjoying it, but also

being grateful for it. that lesson must have lingered somewhere deep in your memory.’

by now, asuka’s eyes were wet with tears.

‘say hello to him from us,’ said koishi with a grin.

‘thank you so much.’ asuka gave another deep bow, then set off. nagare and koishi watched

from behind as she made her way down the street.

‘classy detective work, dad,’ said koishi as they walked back into the restaurant. ‘i should never

have doubted you!’

‘must have been a pretty fun trip for a five-year-old. lucky parents, having someone like that to

help raise their kid!’

‘i never got to go anywhere with my grandad.’ koishi had stopped clearing the table and was

staring into space.

‘he was even more of a workaholic than i am,’ said nagare, making his way into the living

room. ‘and if we complained, he’d always launch into one of his lectures about what it meant to

be a police officer. i never went on any trips with him either, you know.’

‘come to think of it, i’ve hardly been on any trips with you either, dad. it was always just me

and mum.’

‘a policeman is always on duty. that’s what he always told me, and that’s probably why i was

never at home much either – until your mother passed away, that is.’ nagare sat down in front of

the altar.

‘left it all to her. had a pretty hard time of it, didn’t you, mum?’ said koishi, sitting alongside

him and praying to the altar. ‘disneyland, the zoo, the beach, hiking . . . it was always just the two

of us. but i didn’t mind one bit. i always had a great time!’

nagare lit an incense stick in front of the altar, then got to his feet. ‘fancy going out for pasta

tonight?’

‘actually, i’m in the mood for your napolitan. you haven’t made it for a while, you know . . .’

said koishi, an imploring look in her eyes.

‘with pleasure. right then!’ nagare rolled up his sleeves. ‘what do you say we make it an

“italian”? i’ve got those griddle dishes.’

‘i thought you gave them to asuka?’ asked koishi, getting to her feet.

‘they came as a set of five. two for her means three left over. what do you say we invite

hiroshi to join us?’

‘ooh, please. i’ll get us some wine that’ll pair well with the spaghetti!’ said koishi, taking off

her apron.

‘don’t go breaking the bank. tonight’s more about quantity than quality! you know, i reckon

kikuko probably fancies a drink too.’

nagare handed koishi his wallet, then turned back to face the altar.

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