Japan by Menu

Japan returned to the menu with ramen, dumplings and small custard cakes. The East China Sea remained outside, but the table provided its own more immediate geography. Steam rose from the ramen, warm and fragrant, making dinner feel inviting before I had even begun. There are few more persuasive arguments for sitting down than a bowl that is already doing something agreeable to the air.

The dumplings justified close attention, and the custard cakes ensured that the end of the meal would not be neglected. I have come to appreciate a menu that understands appetite as a sequence rather than a single condition. One may be perfectly satisfied with dinner and still retain a serious interest in what appears on the final serving plate.

The last cake remained there for twenty seconds while everyone performed politeness. It was a remarkably complete little production. Nobody wished to look eager, and everybody seemed aware of the cake's continued availability. I participated with the restrained expression of a man generously allowing others an opportunity he hoped they would decline. Good manners can involve a surprising amount of quiet calculation.

Priya and I reached for it at the same time. For a moment our carefully maintained restraint met in a rather obvious place above the plate. We split it. This is progress of some kind, though I am not certain whether the progress concerns friendship, honesty or the efficient distribution of custard. The half I received tasted excellent. Sharing it with her improved the result without increasing the portion, which seems a particularly competent arrangement.