#215 A cafe with a comfortable sense of distance in service / Practicing not holding back when something is hard to say

On a day I went out for errands,
I went to a cafe about 10 minutes further from where I had my errands
to have lunch.

Since it's a cafe that takes time to get to from my house,
I can't easily go there on purpose.
It's nice to visit shops in places I don't usually go
on occasions like this.

The place I arrived at was a cafe with an ocean view.

When I entered the shop,
there were already customers at the special window seats with an ocean view,
and as I was alone, I was guided to a counter seat in that row.

The special window seats are also at the counter, but with glass in front of them,
the location is superb.

My seat had a white wall right in front of it.
I sat down feeling slightly disappointed.

But since I could see a faint view if I looked diagonally to the right,
I cheered myself up and chose from the menu.

I ordered the chicken cutlet with demi-glace sauce set.

You can choose between bread and rice, and when I asked for bread,
the owner said, "I can also add a mini portion of rice with the bread."

Since the bread was small,
I said, "Then, please give me a little bit of rice."
"Certainly," he replied,
responding with a smile.

It was a very healthy meal.
It was a set where the vegetable salad felt more like the main dish than the chicken cutlet.

Lettuce with potato salad,
spinach ohitashi,
simmered daikon radish, fried tofu, and carrots,
and a bite each of Chinese cabbage pickles, chikuwa, and green pepper.

The fact that it included pickles and simmered dishes was a big plus for me,
and as I ate, I thought how comforting Japanese food is.

I thought the green pepper was raw,
but I wonder if it had been prepared in some way?
I ate it with a crunch.
It tasted like green pepper and was delicious.

Along with that, there was warm miso soup and
white rice sprinkled with yukari.

The chicken cutlet was also tender and delicious.

Although I had ordered rice,
I wondered if I would be able to eat it all,
but I finished it all happily.

It is a small shop run by what looks like a couple in their 50s,
and the cheerful exchanges between the wife and the customers
could be heard clearly.

While pouring water into the glasses and going around

At the table behind me,
"It has XX in the demi-glace sauce, so I think you can taste that."
(Unfortunately, I couldn't hear what XX was)
"Is that so!"

At the table next to me,
"How is the curry? I made it a bit spicy today."
"It's delicious."
"Oh, I'm glad."

To me,
"There are so many vegetables that it's hard to eat, isn't it? haha"
"No, I'm happy about it."
"I made it with extra vegetables because I want you to eat plenty of them."

The atmosphere with customers at every table is gentle and bright.

A customer with a dog was eating at an outside table, and
I can see them talking to the dog there too,
and chatting a little with the customer.

The food is delicious, of course, but
the wife's warm atmosphere with just the right sense of distance
(the husband also has a calm and gentle atmosphere)
enhances the quality of this shop.

Even though it's a weekday, customers keep coming in,
and at one point it was full.
That's understandable.

Now, the customer who was sitting in the special window seat next to me.
Finished eating around the time my food arrived
and is ordering coffee.

I, who was eating while looking at the scenery beyond the frosted glass from this angle,
secretly wanted to change seats once this customer left,
and when that person finished paying and left,
I tried asking the shop owner couple.

"Um, can I change to the seat next to me?"
After a moment of hesitation, like 'Hmm?'
"Oh, the one facing the sea? Sure. I'll get it ready for you now."
"Sorry about that."

I accidentally said 'sorry', but
I didn't do anything wrong.
I think 'thank you' would have been better.

For some reason, changing seats halfway through
feels like a bother, or something hard to say, which is vaguely inside me.
I think, maybe they'll think it's fine not to change.
I'm also a little conscious of the eyes of the customers around me.

I think there are people who don't care where they sit,
but I wanted to eat at a seat where I could see the sea,
and I was thinking like a child that that seat looked nice.

I wanted to value my own feelings.
Since it's empty anyway,
I should just ask.

As a result, my sense of happiness increased tremendously,
and I was able to have a fun time.

After the meal, I ordered matcha cake and coffee as an addition.

Before my eyes, I can see the calm sea and a small island,
and as I gaze at them, I let out a sigh and relax.

There is a round scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of a lightly matcha-flavored pound cake.

The coffee I love is perfectly delicious.
Come to think of it, I heard the owner's wife tell another customer,
"We brew it using the hand-drip method."

Drinking coffee and eating cake while looking at the scenery.
This is the best.

The next time the owner's wife came to pour water,
she said to me, "It's suddenly become so open and airy, hasn't it?"
"Yes, it has. It's a lovely view."
"I relax here sometimes, too."
"Oh, that sounds wonderful."

It's a trivial thing, but
I want to grant the things I think of or want to do.
When you keep holding back, thinking about what others might think

even though that's not what you really want to do,
I feel like you end up suppressing your own feelings without even realizing it.

Like my seat today,
things that don't even feel like holding back.

🌱 Thank you for reading (＾ω＾)