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To a Place Named Long Years: annorum | Strolling Cafe



I am told that "annorum" is Latin for "long years."

If you pass the bustling Senso-ji Temple with its Kaminarimon Gate and head north, you will find a quiet residential area called Oku-Asakusa.
Also known as Kannon-ura because it is located behind the Kannon statue, this area is dotted with small shops such as renovated old-house cafes.

Since the ZINE festival venue was in Asakusa, I decided to visit the Oku-Asakusa cafe I had been curious about for a long time.
It was about two years ago that a cafe of the same name opened on the second floor of "annorum," a general store featuring antique furniture and works by designers and artists.
I remember seeing a photo of the new shop in a magazine at the time and feeling that I simply had to go.


Many people are rolling their suitcases.
I walk while looking at a map, having left the crowds of Senso-ji Temple behind.


Someone's very, very old house.
I think this is the right place, but...
This door does not seem to be in use.


Just before opening time,
two staff members appear,
and they set the stage by arranging
tools of various sizes, such as bicycles, benches, signs, and pots.


It is 11 o'clock now,
so let's try opening the door.


The nameplate is faded and hard to read, but
something strange, like a vegetable
with a tree growing out of its head, is depicted on it.



I follow the staff into the quiet shop, which feels like a different world from the dazzling weather outside.
Simple yet tasteful clothes, leather shoes, bags, and pottery were lined up in the soft light filtering through the window glass.

It was dim, so my eyes didn't adjust, and the small letters on the menu blurred.
After managing to place my order, I was told before heading up to the second floor that I could sit in any seat I liked, but that I should not stand up to take photos.



The stairs I climbed up


Glasses for self-service water are set out.


Alone in an empty room,
my own footsteps echo strangely loud.


The ceiling is high, and the attic and wooden beams are visible just as they are.


The furniture in the shop consists of antiques from 50 to 100 years ago,
and they are all for sale in their raw, stripped-paint state.


On the left is a seat where large dried flowers make for a picturesque scene.


Light from the horizontal window and a classical lamp,
a table with one-third folded down facing the wall—
this will surely make those who sit here feel intimate.


In front of me is a shelf that fits perfectly into the corner,
with decorations like an old clock and a triangular back.


A modest lamp hanging straight down from above,

a tall wooden-framed window with beautiful handles that appear to be brass,

a table just the right size for spending time alone,

the music playing is a gentle piano piece,

I will choose this seat, where everything seems perfect.


Today's order:

Café au lait, Kabuki blend,
Gâteau Breton.


A French pastry
with a lovely browned top.
The firm dough is
a gentle flavor made of flour, eggs, milk, and butter,
with a dash of delicious magic.


I had this space all to myself for a while.
I am glad I noticed
that you were in a place like this.




By the time I finished my cafe au lait, another customer who had come up to the second floor didn't sit down right away; they crouched down and looked at the chairs from behind.

When it comes to antiques, 50 or 100 years is about the span of a human life.
I wonder how many people have sat in this one chair, perhaps made by some nameless craftsman in Europe.
Did they laugh while eating something delicious, or perhaps they sat with their knees pulled to their chests in hunger?
Who would have thought that after so many long years, it would unexpectedly cross the sea to spend time in a cafe in Oku-Asakusa.
It seems to me that furniture wears the volume of time spent by those who used it.

No matter what emotions were attached to that 'long time,' when looking back from far, far away, I am sure one can eventually feel something rich in it.



On the way back to Asakusa Station after leaving the cafe,
I found a small bakery called 'Konohana'.


This shop, written as 'powder flower' and read as 'Konohana',
was a bakery I had thought about visiting
after seeing it in a magazine probably over 10 years ago,
to the point that I had forgotten I had always wanted to come here!


Today's souvenirs
(I chose plates that suited each one)
Weekend cake
along with the shop card


Whole wheat scone


And
round bread.

Konohana's bread is
made with homemade yeast grown only with organic raisins and water,
and domestic wheat.
The sweetness spreads the more you chew,
bread you want to eat every day.


And I learned later that it was actually Konohana that supervised the gateau breton at the cafe annorum.
Furthermore, the coffee called Kabuki Blend was specially blended to match the image of the cafe's space, and when I looked into the cafe in Kuramae called 'Kabuki' that took on that task, there was something about it that made me feel I had to go.




✳︎



Actually, starting today, I have begun living with someone I have long admired.
It is not a person, but a piece of furniture.


(Photo from Aozora Kagushiki Kaisha's Instagram)

I purchased a solid wood cupboard made of black cherry.
This piece of furniture, which had been my smartphone wallpaper for a while, had been sitting for about three years at a shop in Kiyosumi-shirakawa that is only open on weekends.
Because of that, it was offered at a significant discount.
Solid wood furniture changes color over time, deepening in character.
Once I have carefully selected and arranged my dishes in this cupboard that will spend a long time with me at home, I would like to write about the furniture again.
I would be happy if you would join me then as well.




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