"You're ripping up the dried cuttlefish hanging on the veranda. Wait. If you don't pound it first to tenderize, the ripping is no good. Wait. Don't hold it that way, I'll do it. This is how you pound dried cuttlefish. Like this. Ouch! This way. Hey, bring some soy sauce. It's no good without soy sauce. Get a cup. No, we need two. Hurry up. Wait. Are these teacups okay? Let's have a toast. Hey, go buy two more bottles. Wait. Go get the kid. It'll get him used to novelists. Let Dazai see him.
"How about the shape of this head? It looks like a busted bowl, kind of like yours. Great! Hey, go get the boy. Don't be so noisy. Isn't it rude to show this dirty kid to a guest? The bad taste of the newly rich. Quick, two more bottles of cider. It's no good if the guest runs away. Wait, you have to serve. Serve drinks to everybody. Go buy some cider from the lady next door. She wants sugar, give her a little.
"Wait, you can't give Auntie the sugar. I'm giving a gift of all the sugar in this house to our guest from Tokyo. Okay, don't forget. Give him all of it. And wrap it in newspaper and oiled paper then tie it up with string. The kid's gotta stop crying. Isn't that rude? The vulgarity of the nouveau rich. Aristocrats aren't like that. Get the sugar when the guests leave.
"Music. Music. Play a record. Maybe Schubert, Chopin, or Bach would be good. Play the music. Wait. What? That's Bach? Stop. It's too loud, we can't talk. Put on a quieter record. Wait. There's nothing to eat. Fry up some angler fish. Bring some of our delicious sauce. Will our guest like it? Wait. Serve the fried angler and kayaki fish stew with egg miso. You can't eat this anywhere but Tsugaru. There. Egg miso. The only egg miso. This is egg miso. This right here."
Nothing in this description is an exaggeration. A welcome resembling gales and angry waves is an expression of love by a Tsugaru native. Dried cuttlefish is a large cuttlefish that has been exposed to snowstorms, frozen, and dried. Its taste is light and refined and was enjoyed by Basho. Five or six fish hung from the eaves on the side of S's house. A wobbly S stood up and pulled off a few. He haphazardly pummeled them and his left thumb with a hammer. He poured a round of apple cider to everyone while twisting and squirming.
I realized the incident of the crown of my head was an attempt by S to make fun of me or an attempt at humor. S may earnestly respect my broad head. He may think it's a good thing. The simple honesty of Tsugaru's natives must be seen. He ended up repeatedly calling for egg miso, but this kayaki stew with egg miso probably warrants an explanation for the ordinary reader. Tsugaru has sukiyaki and chicken stew that are called beef kayaki and chicken kayaki. These are probably thought of as kaiyaki, the word for baked shellfish in the local dialect. Although that may not be so today, when I was young, large scallop shells were used for steaming meat in Tsugaru.
There may be the blind belief that varieties of broth come from the shells, which may have been believed in the old traditions of the aboriginal Ainu people. All of us grew up eating kayaki. For egg miso kayaki, a primitive dish, a shell is used as the pot for seafood and vegetables, shavings of dried bonito are added for flavor and everything is steamed, and then a hen's egg is dropped in before eating. When you're ill and have lost your appetite, this egg miso kayaki is made into a porridge and eaten. This was a dish unique to Tsugaru. S held this belief as he repeatedly called for me to eat it.
I asked to say goodbye to his wife who had been so hospitable and left S's home. I'd like the reader to pay particular attention to this. The welcome by S on that day expressed the love of a man of Tsugaru, moreover, a trueborn native of Tsugaru. I can say without reservation that I often act exactly like S. When a friend comes from afar, I have no idea what to do. I've had the experience of my heart excitedly fluttering in meaningless confusion, and my head hitting the electric light breaking the bulb.
When an unexpected guest drops by during a meal, I immediately abandon my chopsticks and go out to the entryway while munching away and frown at the guest. I'm unable to put on the performance of making him wait while I calmly continue my meal. In essence, like S, I am distraught and puzzle over what to do. And if I bring out everything in the house as a treat, my guest is thrown off balance. Later, I apologize to the guest for my rudeness.
The expression of love by flinging away hesitation, hurling away neglect, grabbing them and throwing them away, and going as far as throwing away one's life may be thought of as rude violence to the people of the Kanto and Kansai regions so they stay away. On the way home, I felt like my fate was known by S, but he did not sympathize as I remembered from long ago. The expression of love by a Tsugaru native, if not given in a dose diluted by a little water, may be unreasonable to the people of other provinces. The people of Tokyo will simply put on airs and bring out a few scraps of food. Although they're not unsalted oyster mushrooms, because an excessive love is exposed, I, like Lord Kiso, may have been held in contempt by the arrogant, elegant people of Tokyo.
He urged me with, "Please help yourself. Please."
Later I heard that for the next week, S was embarrassed
