The Kamogawa Food Detectives

Suyako dipped her first piece of tonkatsu in the ponzu sauce, then brought it to her mouth. She chewed carefully on it a few times. Then her face broke into a gentle smile. ‘Delicious.’ The word wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but seemed to burst from her mouth. For her second piece, she chose the spicy sauce. This time, before taking a b

By the way, I wanted to ask – what was it you had me put in Hideji’s soup right at the end? You know, that stuff in the jar.’ ‘Instant dashi powder. He’ll need to get used to that stuff if he’s going to live with Nami.’

‘From top left,’ began Nagare, tucking the tray under his arm, ‘Miyajima oysters, simmered Kurama-style, miso-glazed baked butterburs with millet cake, bracken and bamboo shoot stew, chargrilled moroko, breast of Kyoto-reared chicken with a wasabi dressing, and vinegared Wakasa mackerel wrapped in pickled Shogoin turnip. In the bottom right you hav

‘Shimogamo Shrine is unusual, even for Kyoto, in that you pray in different places depending on your zodiac animal. There are seven little shrines, known as kotosha. Five of them are dedicated to two animals, and the other two just one. The mouse and the horse each get their own shrine. That’ll be why you remember that he was born in the year of th

‘I think I was just . . . afraid,’ said Nobuko, choosing her words slowly, as though addressing Nejima himself. ‘The idea of happiness pitching up in my life like that all of a sudden – it terrified me.’

‘There’s also dessert – sorry, I mean the mizugashi course. So please take your time,’ said Koishi, shrugging her shoulders. ‘That’s right, Koishi. There’s no such thing as “dessert” in Japanese cuisine. The fruit served at the end of the meal is called mizugashi. We’re not in France, after all!’ said Tae, her nostrils flaring.

‘The yuzu has a wonderful aroma, too,’ said Nobuko, bringing the bowl close to her nose. ‘That’s from a village called Mizuo in the mountains west of Kyoto. Fragrant, isn’t it?

‘Can I ask you something?’ said Asuka, looking Nagare in the eye as she stood up. ‘Of course,’ said Nagare, returning her gaze. ‘Why do you think I remember that spaghetti in particular, out of all the other dishes I ate with Grandad?’ ‘Well, this is just a guess, but . . .’ Nagare paused and took a breath. ‘I wonder if this trip was the first time

‘I don’t mean to be rude, Mr Yamamoto, but I have to say this is a pretty odd request. This sushi you’re describing doesn’t sound very tasty at all! There are plenty of Kyoto restaurants that serve incredible mackerel sushi these days – but all you care about is this weird version of yours.’ ‘You’re still young, aren’t you? All you care about is ea

‘Well then, Mr Taro Yamada. Let’s get to business. What dish are you looking for?’ asked Koishi. ‘I’d like you to help me with a certain kind of mackerel sushi.’ ‘What kind, exactly?’ asked Koishi, scribbling away with her pen. ‘The refined type they serve at the Izu restaurant? Or something a bit more rough and ready, like you get at Hanaori?’