Short Short: "Croquette" #Original
The shopping arcade was slowly changing color as it caught the evening light. Every time an old sign creaked, a somewhat nostalgic scent mingled with the breeze. In one corner stood a long-established butcher shop, its wooden sign claiming it was founded in Showa 30, asserting its history along with the aroma of oil.
The eat-in space in front of the shop had three square steel tables. A housewife on her way home from shopping, a man of unknown occupation, and someone like me—a person who just wanted to eat a croquette—were all sitting down as they pleased.
With a freshly fried beef croquette in one hand, I fell into deep thought.
Is a croquette a snack? Or is it a side dish?
The rising steam ascended vigorously, much like my own sense of inquiry, only to dissolve and vanish immediately. Being the type of person who gets excited easily but loses interest just as quickly, I immediately searched for it on my smartphone. It seems many people have held the same question, and there have even been surveys conducted on the matter in the past.
The result was, "It is both a side dish and a snack." It is a convenient phrase, but it somehow doesn't sit right with me.
If we assume the essence of a croquette is "a deep-fried food coated in breadcrumbs, consisting mainly of carbohydrates and fats," then if you eat it with white rice at lunch, it is a "side dish," and if you eat it to satisfy a mid-afternoon hunger, it is a "snack." In other words, the meaning of a croquette changes depending on the situation.
Then, is a croquette not a fixed attribute, but a "phenomenon" that emerges within a situation and one's consciousness?
No, that's not it.
I still haven't even understood the breading of the existence known as a croquette.
It was the moment I thought that.
The man in the seat next to me started pouring sauce all over his croquette. No, rather than pouring, it was more like a deep soak. The sauce was raining down like a waterfall with such intensity that the surface of the croquette was no longer visible.
For this man, a croquette must be nothing more than a medium for eating sauce. At that sight, I couldn't help but swallow hard.
For someone like me, who belongs to the 'no sauce' camp, this was a forbidden ritual.
The croquette in front of me was still wrapped in a golden crust of steam. Hesitating for a moment at its beauty, I reached for the sauce bottle.
And then... I quietly poured the waterfall.
The first drop touched the rough mountain of breadcrumbs, was absorbed without a sound, and changed color. The following stream covered the surface without hesitation, and the crispy peaks sank into a deep amber.
Following gravity, the sauce slowly but surely repainted the golden land of the croquette, as if flaunting the very act of 'soaking in'.
At the edges, the gold was still resisting. But the thick liquid gradually pushed the boundary line, and finally, the entire croquette was unified into a single deep hue.
Yes, the croquette was not 'poured upon.' It had 'accepted' it.
At that moment, I accepted it too.
Not logically, but the very existence of the croquette itself.
I slowly brought the browned croquette to my mouth.
So salty!
I retracted my previous statement immediately.
The End
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Afterword
Sorry, I just wanted to try writing something like 'What are you even talking about?'. Also, I'm the type who doesn't put sauce on them and eats them as a side dish.
#ShortShort
#Croquette
#Sauce
#Snack
#SideDish
#WhatAreYouEvenTalkingAbout