Saturdays when we had school, lunch back then was incredibly delicious.

When I was a child, we had school on Saturdays too.
We would have classes only in the morning and then leave school all together.

I was filled with a sense of accomplishment for having studied properly until noon, and a sense of liberation knowing I could play freely from then on.

Lunch eaten in that state was... absolutely delicious.
This is a memory from when I was in the fifth grade of elementary school.

“Alright, come over after you eat lunch!”
“Yeah, got it!”


I said goodbye to the friend whose house was closest and dashed toward my own home.

He’s a pretty fast eater, after all.
If I dawdle, he’ll be at my house in no time.


“I’m home!”


I could guess what lunch was that day.
It was that thing from last night.

“I’m hungry!”
“It’s already prepared.”

Mom always prepares lunch by calculating backward from the time I get home.
I want to praise Mom’s achievement (←a word I learned at school today).

The curry had already been reheated・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・.
I could sense it by the smell.
Because it had been reheated, the aroma was drifting all the way to the entryway.

Curry is delicious.
But, its potential skyrockets when left to sit overnight.
Perhaps the umami components of the meat and vegetables dissolve while it sits.
Whenever we had curry on Friday night, it was always curry for Saturday lunch.

There are schools of thought on how to pour curry.
The school that pours curry over only half the rice and the school that keeps them completely separate, for example.

My house was the pour-it-all-over school.

Spread white rice across a round plate.
Pour curry over it until you are satisfied.
Even so, you must not hide all the white rice.
Because the pure white rice peeking out from the curry is beautiful.

Carry the curry and tea from the kitchen to the living room where the TV is.
On the way, I sniff up the steam drifting from the curry.
I enjoy the “spicy aroma” that is completely different from yakisoba.

“Itadakimasu!”

Hold the plate firmly with your left hand and ready your spoon with your right.
At this point, you must not just blindly plunge the spoon in.
Just like a professional shogi player making their first move, survey the whole thing.


Then,

and so on, you can distinguish them.


Without hesitation, plunge your spoon into the meat zone.
The meat in our family's curry was pork belly blocks.We would stew meat cut into pieces the size of kakuni in a pressure cooker to make it tender.

Moreover, there was a lot of it.
There were 8 to 9 pieces in a single plate.
So, first, I would aim for that meat without holding back.

When I lifted the spoon, I had secured high-quality meat.
For me, high-quality meat meant meat with plenty of fat.
Pieces that formed distinct layers were preferred.

When you put it in your mouth, the first thing that hits you is the spicy heat of the curry.
Then, with every chew, the chunks of meat fall apart, the richness of the fat combines with the sweetness of the rice, and the tongue is overjoyed.


I ate the first plate in two minutes.

At our house, the rice for seconds was kept in an 'ohitsu' (wooden rice container).

The rice kept in the ohitsu was slightly cooled.
Because of this, you never had the problem of the curry and the white rice being too hot to eat.
You could eat it with great intensity.

Besides,the process of warming up the slightly cooled rice with the hot curry while eating was, for some reason, fun.

On this day,I ate a total of three plates.

From the second plate onwards,"Yoshimoto Shinkigeki"was on, so lunch ended up taking a long time.

"Hello there!!"

Just as I was about to clear the plates, a friend I had promised to play with came over.

"It smells delicious in here."
"It's curry. Want some?"

At my mother's invitation, the friend nodded.
After taking one bite of the curry served on a small plate, the friend's eyes widened.

"This is delicious!"
"I told you, I told you."

When my mom's curry is complimented, I feel happy too.

This curry actually has Yakiniku sauce・・・・ as a secret ingredient.

You might think it's just some simple yakiniku sauce.
But, it contains many spices, making it perfect as a secret ingredient (or so my mom says).

After eating our original curry, my friend said to my mom.

“Please teach me how to make this curry too!”