Page 35 of A Serving of Hope

“I do, but…this is on another level.”

“Well, that’s music to this chef’s ears. The rice is ready, so just let me know when you’d like me to bring it through.” Nagare hastened for the kitchen again as if embarrassed by her praise.

When she was halfway through her second tumbler of sake, Saki decided to sample the item she’d been most curious about: the sesame dipping sauce. She’d eaten tempura countless times—and at some of Tokyo’s finest establishments—but she’d never once seen it paired with a sesame sauce. Somewhat warily, she dipped the fried anago eel into the sauce, then brought it to her lips.

Her eyes widened. She let out a loud gasp.

Nagare rushed out from the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”

“Sorry,” said Saki, hunching her shoulders apologetically. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just so good.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Nagare, grinning to himself as he slipped back through the kitchen curtain.

The dish was a revelation. Saki had never imagined that a sesame sauce—even one like this, which was more savory than sweet—would pair so beautifully with tempura. In the end, she dipped every last piece in it.

Nagare poked his head through the curtain. “Is it about time for the rice course?”

“Please. Just a little will be fine, thank you.”

For all her earlier declaration that she wasn’t a big eater, Saki had polished off the food in no time.

“I hope this’ll be to your liking,” said Nagare, setting a small bamboo basket down in front of her.

“What…is it?”

“You know sakura mochi—sweet rice cakes wrapped in cherry blossom leaves? Well, this is sakura sushi. Bite-sized pieces of sushi wrapped in salted cherry leaves. From left to right: kombu-cured sea bream, vinegared mackerel, grilled eel, steamed prawn, and simmered octopus. I went easy on the rice, but just leave anything you can’t finish. The cherry leaves can be eaten or removed—it’s up to you. The soup is a simple clam broth; you might want to add a sprinkle of the chopped pepper tree leaves.”

Saki savored the sushi one piece at a time, and was enchanted by the bright, refreshing aroma of the soup. If only I lived in Kyoto, she thought. I’d be a regular at this place in no time.

“Some tea,” said Nagare, setting a Mashiko teapot and colorful Koimari cup on the table.

“I feel silly for saying I didn’t eat much.” Saki blushed as she gazed at the empty bamboo basket.

“I’m just glad you enjoyed it,” replied Nagare as he filled the cup with tea.

“I haven’t eaten this much in years. My husband would be astonished.”

“Well, if you ask me, cooking is all about the connection between the chef and the diner. And it looks like we hit it off.”

“We did?”

“Definitely. Without that rapport, even the fanciest food in the world falls flat. Anyway, Koishi’s just getting ready in the office. I’ll show you through now if you like.”

“Of course. I was so taken by your cooking that I almost forgot why I’m here. Lead the way!”

At the end of a long hallway was an office with a placard that read: The Kamogawa Detective Agency. Nagare ushered Saki through the door.

She was greeted by Koishi, now wearing a black pantsuit. “Please, take a seat.”

Saki perched in the middle of the long sofa.

“Do you mind filling this out, and we can get started?” said Koishi, handing her a form on a clipboard.

“I wasn’t expecting paperwork,” said Saki as she began writing down her details. “This is quite the operation.”

“Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” said Saki. When she’d finished with the clipboard, she set it down on the low table and gazed absentmindedly at the books on the shelf until Koishi brought over two cups of coffee.