Oden, Sometimes, Mentaiko

A submission for the Shirokuma Literature Club project

Preface

On a cold night, you suddenly find yourself craving "oden."
Beyond the steam, there are the sounds of family laughter and the presence of daily life,
and sometimes, stories are born that are more than just about the food.
Today is a story about the warm time shared between a mother and child,
dwelling within each and every ingredient in the pot.

Main Text

The ingredients in the pot were always the same: egg, daikon radish, konjac, and thick fried tofu.
Just looking at this lineup, you could tell right away that our family didn't have much money.
After all, there was no beef tendon in it.

"Mom, if there's no beef tendon, it's a disgrace to the name of oden, isn't it?"

"Sorry, sorry. There are various circumstances, you see. But instead, it has 'meat from the field,' doesn't it?"

"Meat from the field? What's that? You're a nutritionist, don't you know? Come on, look it up."

――Soybeans.

Thick fried tofu instead of beef tendon?
"That's right. I put in extra, so try eating it with yuzu kosho."

As she said that, my mother stirred the pot with a gentle simmer.
And then, it wasn't just the ingredients that floated to the surface.

"Mom, there's some kind of unexpected guest in tonight's oden."

"Oh, that person? They looked cold, so I let them in."

"Even so, this is..."

My mother's 'depth of heart for oden' sometimes goes in the wrong direction.

"Okay, I'm going to put some in tomorrow's bento too, so leave a little bit left over."

"Huh... oden for my bento too? It doesn't really work as a side dish."

"I'll include some mentaiko as a special guest appearance, too."

"Oh, mentaiko? ...Yeah, okay."

Beyond the steam, the laughter of mother and child grew.
At that moment――.

"Wait a minute! I don't want oden, I want Churu and tuna..."

The one who finally poked their head out was our little "unexpected guest."

Afterword

When gathering around a hot pot, "talking" warms you up more than the food itself.
Even if the ingredients are meager, or there's no beef tendon,
if someone smiles on the other side of the steam, that's a feast in itself.

I wrote this with those feelings in mind.
I'm sure a little story is bubbling up in your pot at home, too.
*This story is a work of fiction.

I wrote this for the Shirokuma Literature Club prompt.
Thank you for the prompt.