I could understand someone of my age sounding reminiscent over my past, but Kon sounded as if he were a middle-aged man recalling his childhood, which was slightly surreal. But when I saw the faintly melancholic expression on his face after his speech, I realized that Kon wasn’t remembering a snapshot of a distant summer, but instead missing Gramps himself.
His sentimental mood spread to me, and I recalled my summer holidays during my childhood. While Sayori was utterly confused in the background, I shared a quiet, wistful silence with Kon.
After roughly an hour, I checked the chair, and the varnish was dry. I fetched wood glue and nails before reinforcing the chair and adding more implements wherever necessary. I’d copied Gramps’s handiwork—the position of the nails and the structure were identical to his. The only difference was that it looked newer. I finished up the chair that wouldn’t look off at all next to Kon’s signature one.
While I was busy, Kon and Sayori engaged in lighthearted banter as they watched over me. The moment the chair was ready, the two of them ran up to me.
“Wow! It looks so cool!” Kon exclaimed.
“Thank you for all your hard work,” Sayori said politely.
I smiled. “Thanks, you two. All right, once the wood glue dries, it’s ready to go. We could wait here, but I think it’s around time for lunch, so how about we enjoy a meal while we wait?”
The moment I finished my question, the two of them sported the exact same sunny smile at the same time before they dashed into the kitchen. I didn’t follow them, instead choosing to go to the bathroom first to wash my hands and get changed—there were likely wood shavings on my top and trousers. It was only then that I headed to the kitchen and put on my apron.
When I walked over to the sink, I discovered that Kon had relinquished his chair to Sayori for today. Meanwhile, he sat majestically on an empty confectionery tin, which he’d found lying around, with a dignified attitude that was rather novel on him.
It was such a heartwarming sight, and I felt a smile soften the corners of my eyes. I speedily opened the fridge, checked its contents, then closed it. Now then… What should I make for lunch?
My mind was drawing a blank, so I began thinking out loud. “I ended up dedicating my time to making that chair today, so something simple would be ideal. Judging by our inventory, hm… Since we mentioned summer holidays at one point, how about we do something that’s in theme, like yakisoba?”
Kon tilted his head. “Yakisoba is in theme for summer holidays?”
“Yeah, in my household at least. Gramps made it often for me. What I remember of my lunches during summer holidays are yakisoba, thin somen noodles, thin hiyamugi noodles, or chilled Chinese noodles. It was almost always noodles, maybe because they’re easy to make. Once in a while, I do recall having some fried rice or other things… But what I remember the most vividly are the noodles.”
I continued, “Even among all these noodles, yakisoba showed up much more frequently than the others. Furthermore, yakisoba is the classic type of food you’d find available at festival vendors or during summer events. That’s why to me, it’s food that screams summer holidays.”
Kon hummed thoughtfully. “Grampa Tommi’s yakisoba, huh? I don’t remember ever eating any, but was it yummy?”
“Yep, sure was.” I nodded. “He mentioned that having yakisoba sauce every single time would get boring, so he made all kinds of arrangements. Sometimes, he’d flavor it mainly with soy sauce, sometimes with plum pop sauce, and a couple of times, he even made yakisoba with tomato sauce.”
Sayori was the first to react among the two kids. Sounding surprised, she raised her voice. “Tomato sauce yakisoba?! W-Would that even taste good?!”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “I think so. Tomato sauce goes well with pasta, and noodles aren’t that different. On top of that, in a prefecture somewhere along the Japanese coast, yakisoba flavored with tomato sauce is renowned there as a local comfort food.”
“Huuuh!” Kon and Sayori chorused simultaneously.
They certainly sounded interested, so I decided to make tomato sauce yakisoba for lunch today. But a second later, I recalled that I didn’t have the necessary ingredients, so I had to begrudgingly change things up.
The second best option popped up in my mind, and I announced, “Unfortunately, we are out of tomato sauce at the moment… So how about we have plum pulp sauce yakisoba today?”
Kon beamed, his anticipation practically radiating from his face as he nodded.
Having received his response, I wasted no time and immediately pulled out the ingredients from the fridge. It was time to get cooking.
The ingredients in a traditional yakisoba are the following: cabbage, carrots, bean sprouts, and boneless pork ribs. You can never go wrong with this. You have a few options for the noodles, but I’m using Chinese noodles available in the market this time. For your nori seaweed, you want the seasoned type, not the plain nori seaweed. Since this is plum pulp yakisoba, also prepare coarsely chopped plum pulp. Finally, you’ll want plenty of dried bonito flakes.
Roughly cut your cabbage and carrots into chunks. Wash your bean sprouts thoroughly. Cut meat into bite-sized pieces.
For Chinese noodles, there is sometimes oil residue, so wash quickly in a colander and drain. Add cooking sake and soy sauce, then toss to distribute the seasoning evenly.
Drizzle oil into a frying pan. Spread your noodles across the frying pan’s surface and push it down lightly with a spatula. After the bottom browns slightly, turn it over and cook the other side until slightly browned. Remove noodles from frying pan.
Next, stir-fry your ingredients by adding them in the following order: meat, carrots, then cabbage. Once they are cooked, push them to one side of the frying pan and add the noodles back in. In a small bowl, mix chuno sauce—a slightly sweet fruit and vegetable sauce–pepper, cooking sake, and chopped plum pulp. Pour mixture only over the noodles. Untangle the noodles while you toss them in the mixture.
After the noodles have absorbed the flavors and seasoning, add bean sprouts. Mix the vegetables and the noodles. Once the sauce is distributed evenly, serve onto plates. Sprinkle on plenty of dried bonito flakes and crushed seasoned nori seaweed. Add optional red pickled ginger to preference.
After I finished arranging the noodles onto two plates, I fetched chilled cold-brew barley tea from the fridge. I lined up the plates, the bottle of tea, as well as cups on the low table in the living room. I turned to Kon and Sayori, who’d followed me into the living room, and said, “There you go. Feel free to start without me.”
Just like Kon, Sayori was a big eater. It was extremely difficult to cook for four—well, more like three gluttons and one standard eater—in one go. Partly because Techi hadn’t come back yet, I’d decided to make food for the two children first before I cooked for Techi and me. I’d piled on a giant heap of yakisoba on their plates, and the piles were so high that the vegetables dished up on the summit threatened to roll down any moment now.
It seemed that Kon and Sayori read between the lines and swiftly settled down on their seats, voicing their thanks for the food in unison before they started digging in with overflowing energy and a hearty appetite.
“It’s sweet and sour and tasty!” Kon reported happily.
Sayori nodded. “Umeboshi and seasoned nori seaweed go very well together.”
Their cheeks were puffing out adorably with food as they eagerly wolfed down their yakisoba. After watching them for a short while, I returned to the kitchen and began round two of cooking. Just as I finished arranging my normal-sized portion of yakisoba and Techi’s super deluxe mega yakisoba on our plates, Techi came home.
The two of us adults belatedly joined the children and admired their energetic mannerisms as we enjoyed our leisurely lunch.