Chapter 105:
Hamburg Steak, Once More
AT A CAFÉ in the shopping district, Yamagata Saki checked her resume one last time, ensuring there were no mistakes.
All right. Looking good, I think. She heaved a sigh and slid the resume into an envelope.
While Saki was preparing for her coming-of-age ceremony last week, Grandma Koyomi—who lived back home—had apparently put in a good word for her at the restaurant. If she was all right working in the hustle and bustle of a busy kitchen, she’d have the job.
It was Saturday morning, when the restaurant was closed. Saki was apparently going to be interviewed on their “break day.” Unless something went really wrong, however, she was sure to be hired.
My first part-time job, huh? Saki was raring to go.
A student’s job was studying—that was the promise she’d made to her father—so working part-time and letting her grades slip would be unacceptable. However, Saki had already earned all the credits she needed through her second year. Since she was now twenty, meaning she could take responsibility for her actions, her father had approved of her working at her uncle’s restaurant.
I should be okay. His restaurant seems pretty popular.
As a college student, Saki had lots of friends who worked. In high school, she’d even had a local friend who worked at her uncle’s restaurant. According to them, the pay was a bit low, but the free food was excellent—and employees got a discount at the bakery above the restaurant.
Her uncle’s place was a pretty old joint, so it wasn’t the kind of restaurant a young woman would go on a date or to hang out with friends. But apparently the food was good, so it was the perfect place for Saki to train, so to speak. She finished her soda, steeled herself, and stood.
Saki’s dream was to one day become a chef with her own restaurant. She’d loved cooking since she was a child. In elementary and junior high, she’d often cooked meals for her parents, who came home late from work. She liked trying new dishes, as well as figuring out ways to make old ones even more delicious. Thanks to her creativity and hard work, Saki had become quite a skilled cook.
When she was in junior high, her great-grandmother—who couldn’t cook—had come to live with the family. Meanwhile, Saki’s parents were giving her grocery money separate from her allowance, and she started shopping on her own. By the time she was a high schooler, she was making elaborate bento boxes for herself as well as her parents.
I need to work at a restaurant if I’m going to be a chef, she thought. That’s why she’d worked so hard to fulfill the tough conditions her father put in place for her—just to earn this part-time job.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
Saki found herself getting quietly excited as she walked toward her destination. The restaurant was about three minutes on foot from the shopping-district café, in the first-floor basement of a shop with a small sign depicting a winged dog.
Saki read the words on the door. “Western Cuisine Nekoya.” That was the restaurant she was headed to. “So, this is Uncle’s restaurant. It’s just like Grandma Koyomi said.”
She’d heard about Nekoya’s appearance over and over from her great-grandmother; still, upon finally seeing it herself, she was moved. On the black door with a cat picture was a sign reading CLOSED FOR THE DAY. However, Saki sensed people behind the door, so her uncle was likely in.
“This should be the key,” she murmured.
Grandma Koyomi had come to see Saki at her coming-of-age ceremony, and she’d given her great-granddaughter the key to Nekoya’s front door. It would allow Saki entrance even when the restaurant was closed.
When she gave me the key, she said “You’ll probably be fine.” What did she mean? Saki wondered, unlocking and opening the door. “Excuse me! Sorry to—”
As the sound of a ringing bell filled the air, Saki stiffened. Er…isn’t the restaurant supposed to be closed today?
The aroma of all kinds of foods filled the brightly lit dining room. A number of guests were seated and enjoying their time in the restaurant. As Saki glanced around, it was crystal clear that Nekoya was open for business.
She soon noticed something. Huh? What’s with the fantasy getup?
There were guests wearing beautiful gowns, carrying swords on their backs, and dressed as if they were straight out of The Arabian Nights. Every single person wore clothes Saki had never before seen in real life, and the majority clearly weren’t Japanese.
Saki grasped at a suitable explanation. Did Uncle rent this place out for a cosplay party or something?
“Um…welcome to Western Cuisine Nekoya.” The voice came from close by.
When Saki turned, she saw a high school-aged girl. She could tell from the girl’s facial features that she wasn’t Japanese. Her clearly natural-blonde hair was held back with an elastic, and there were black, hornlike hair ornaments near her ears. Saki thought she looked good with them, oddly enough. She wore a cat-patterned apron above a waitress uniform.
Saki thought the foreign girl must be one of her uncle’s employees; perhaps she was a study-abroad student at some college. “Uh, hi. Your Japanese is excellent. Oh, sorry…I’m not a customer.”
“Huh?”
Having determined that the puzzled girl definitely worked here, Saki explained the situation. “Um, I was told to come here on Saturday for an interview. Is Uncle…er, is the restaurant owner in?”
“Oh, um…please wait one moment,” the girl responded, cocking her head in thought. She went into the back of the restaurant, toward the kitchen, to relay Saki’s message.
Oh, thank goodness. Uncle’s here.
Before long, Saki’s uncle—the very one who always dropped by to say hello during New Year’s and other holidays—came out. Saki’s shoulders relaxed in relief.
“Saki?! Didn’t Grandma tell you anything?!” Her uncle was clearly befuddled. Apparently, Grandma Koyomi was supposed to have mentioned something to Saki—maybe it had to do with the restaurant’s busy state.
“Er…”
“Um, well, I’ll explain things later. For now, could you wait a minute? I’ll be free soon. In the meantime, have a bite. My treat. We serve pretty much everything here.” Saki’s uncle led her to a table, presenting her with some water and a warm, moist towel.
“Really?” Saki asked. “Are you sure?”
“Of course!” her uncle nodded. “Can’t have you just sitting here hungry in a restaurant!”
“All right. Let’s see…” Saki reflected. It was just the right time for an early lunch. And, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t too familiar with her uncle’s cooking. According to Grandma Koyomi, he was “Just as good as Daiki,” but Saki wasn’t actually familiar with her great-grandfather’s cooking, either.
I should order something that’ll clue me in to Uncle’s skills. So… After thinking for a moment, Saki settled on a meal. “I’ll take the hamburg steak with rice, please.”
Hamburg steak was the standard by which all Western cuisine was judged. When it came to that recipe, spotting differences in quality was quite easy.
“Got it. What would you like for the sauce?” Apparently, you could choose between different sauces at Nekoya.
“Um…could I have Japanese-style sauce with grated daikon?” That was Saki’s favorite.
“No problem. Are you fine with shiso leaves?”
“Yeah. Thank you!”
“Okay. That’ll be right out, Miss.” Her uncle replied like a pro, retreating to the kitchen.
After watching him leave, the waitress nodded at Saki. “Please take your time and relax, um, Miss.” She went to take other orders.
Saki looked around as she waited. The restaurant was clearly old, but it was clean, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The customers still stood out to Saki, though. There sure are a lot of strange diners here. They’re all speaking Japanese, but none of them look Japanese at all. And where would they even buy clothes like that?
Some customers were entirely focused on eating their meals. Others sat with friends or acquaintances and picked at their food while conversing. That sort of thing wasn’t uncommon in restaurants, but the fact that nobody speaking Japanese looked or dressed like a Japanese person was very unusual.
Grandma Koyomi did say “The restaurant’s a little odd, but it’s pretty great, too.” Saki sipped the lemon water the waitress brought her, wondering what kind of restaurant Nekoya was. She was a little unnerved.
At that point, her food arrived. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Saki’s uncle said. “Here’s your Japanese-style hamburg steak with grated daikon sauce.”
The sizzling hamburg steak’s aroma struck Saki’s stomach directly. Freshly julienned shiso sat atop the steak. The sauce, which consisted of ponzu and grated daikon, dripped onto the metal plate, where it sizzled. Watching it made Saki even hungrier.
Alongside the hamburg steak were the traditional side dishes—french fries, sautéed green peas, and glazed carrots. Bowls of rice and miso soup sat close by, and the steam rising from both also made Saki ravenous.
“Enjoy,” her uncle added. “I should be free once the omelets finish cooking, so just hang in there.” He returned to the kitchen.
Omelets? Well…whatever. Her uncle had his own stuff going on. With that in mind, Saki quickly put her hands together. “Thanks for the meal!” Her friends often joked about it, but Saki didn’t feel comfortable eating until she’d said that.
She reached for her chopsticks.