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en asked what your favorite food is, you say, “Oh.
It’s soup,” he replied immediately.en I say that, most people say, “Huh? Miso soup?”
“Isn’t it?” I said, as if I was caught off guard.
It will help you. Maybe you were vaguely expecting something like curry, sushi, or ramen, but when you get miso soup, come to think of it, there were players like that, and they did a surprisingly good job with that. There must be something interesting about it.
To be more precise
I like the taste of it.Kelp soup stock
I really like both dashi and red dashi. en it comes to making my own miso soup, I’m not particularly picky about the type of miso (though I prefer Shinshu miso or white miso), but I do want to use the most delicious soup stock possible. . I don’t want to miss the chance to buy a delicious, slightly more expensive soup stock, so I’m always on the lookout for new stock in the seasoning section of the supermarket.
I noticed this when someone told me this a while ago, but apparently my love for it is so strong that I often talk about miso soup when I’m out drinking.
The other day, while I was eating at a pub, a friend of mine
Looking at the miso soup that came with the rice ball set I ordered, I thought to myself, “That’s nice, but I wonder if I could just order the miso soup on its own…” and then said in a strangely somber tone, “I really like miso soup.”
It is said that he was doing so.
Personally, I didn’t realize it, so when it was pointed out to me later, I felt like I might have said it, but my friends say that your obsession with miso soup is amazing.
My friend I says that when I invite people over for drinks, there is always a moment when I quickly get up and disappear into the kitchen. I was wondering why he hadn’t come back for a while and asked what he was doing. en I approach someone, I usually find myself quietly stirring the miso and then ask, “Do you want miso soup?”If you look inside the pot, it’s fried.
It is packed with different ingredients depending on the season, such as yashimeji mushrooms. Mr. I is always surprised to find out that this person is serious about miso soup, although he doesn’t really understand it.
Another friend of mine said that he’ll never forget the strange feeling he felt when he asked me out of the blue, “at kind of sweet potato should you put in your pork soup?” at a bar.My friend answered taro, and so did I.I got a little excited, but apparently at that moment, around the “sa” part of taro, my eyes widened for a moment and I took a deep breath.
It seems like he could see it coming.That was scary, I thought it was a potato.
She later recalled that she thought she might be attacked. Naturally, she wouldn’t do such a disturbing thing, but it certainly looked like a monster and must have been scary, and I felt a little sorry for her friend.
However, I thought that it was still good enough, but just the other day I had something to reflect on, so I would like to write it down here.
a band’s live performance
On my way home, I was drinking beer at a bar near the venue in the city center when a man in his 60s who seemed to be a regular sat down next to me. He seemed to like old movies, and was talking endlessly about the “Godfather” series to the young staff, so I interjected and said that I also liked the Godfather. Then, the conversation about the movie became more exciting than I expected, and the drinking went ahead of schedule.
After about four drinks, the patron said, “Actually, I have a guy from the Italian mafia.” en I replied, “You’re kidding, right?”, he says, “No, really…” and begins to tell a strangely realistic story. at do mafia players usually do? Like poker? I said something random, and he said, “We’ll play poker and have drinks at the bar.at should we call you?”I remember how everyone in the room laughed and calmed down. It’s an embarrassing story, but I was pretty drunk, so my memory of the conversation that followed is vague.
The next morning, I was talking to my partner about the bar.I carried it with me the day before.
en I was sorting through the contents, I found a plastic bag deep inside a large pocket. Inside the bag is what looks like a bundle of powder, which I don’t recognize, held together with a rubber band. I wondered what it was, and when I picked it up and showed it to him, his expression darkened and he stepped back, thinking, “Huh?” After all, the mafia really isn’t there, right?My partner started googling “how to throw away drugs” while hearing this question.
It has become. As I thought about what had happened the night before, a possibility came to mind, and I was furiously reflecting on myself as I watched him panic.
As the astute reader would have guessed, it was a high-quality dashi pack. en I asked the owner of the shop later, when a regular customer asked me what I liked to eat, I flatly replied, “Miso soup,” and the regular customer, who was on his way home from shopping, said, “Oh, in that case, I’ll give you a packet of this dashi.” Apparently, he shared half of the contents with me. Now that you mention it, I have vague memories of having that conversation.
After that, I laughed for a while as my partner nervously put his nose to the contents of the bag and exclaimed, “Ah, this is…a dashi pack…!” Well, I don’t think it’s a funny story. From now on, I want to stop talking about miso soup with anyone, and I want to stop drinking that much alcohol in the first place. By the way, the miso soup made using the Itadashi pack is extraordinarily delicious, so I plan to continue buying this for a while. (Essayist Shiho Yuba)
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