Japanese Food Bites: Indulging in the Taste of Summer

By Emily Inga

Yesterday we visited the excursion I had been looking forward to since we were still back in Boston.

The Sakura Mushroom Farm!

Now pause, I know mushrooms are not everyone’s favorite food, and I may have lost some readers at the mention of mushrooms, but trust me, these were different. And if you do not trust me, a certified mushroom lover, then trust the words of Julianna, who used to describe mushrooms as gross until she tried the ones at the Sakura Farm and admitted they tasted “great and fresh.”

The moment I stepped onto the farm, it became impossible to forget where we were. Mushroom-themed decorations covered nearly every corner. Tiny figurines peeked out from shelves, paintings of mushrooms hung across the walls, and little statues were scattered throughout the property like hidden treasures. The farm felt playful and welcoming, almost like stepping into a tiny mushroom-themed world.

Once we passed through the entrance, we were handed baskets and scissors so we could begin harvesting our own mushrooms. Before letting us loose, the staff demonstrated how to cut them properly. We were told to trim only at the base of the stem because cutting elsewhere could shorten the plants life. Suddenly, the experience felt much more delicate than I expected. Instead of simply grabbing food, we were carefully harvesting something that had been grown with patience and care.

After I cut my three mushrooms, I eagerly waited for the best part of the experience: grilling everything ourselves. Each table overflowed with ingredients. Plates of hotdogs, sausages, cabbage, onions, carrots, shrimp, beef, sauces, and, of course, our freshly picked mushrooms. The grill on the side of the table already radiated heat, and the smoky scent of burning wood drifted through the air before we even started cooking.

Our table of four jumped into action. One person flipped mushrooms, another arranged vegetables, and another grilled the meat. We passed the ingredients back and forth and debated whether the meat needed “just one more minute,” and somehow managed to cook everything without disaster. The mushrooms quickly became the star of the meal. They were juicy, smoky, and unbelievably fresh, nothing like the rubbery mushrooms back home.

After lunch, the farm owner, Mr. Saito, came out to share the story of how the business began. Although he came from a family of mushroom farmers he admitted that he used to dislike the taste of mushrooms himself! What changed his mind was tasting a freshly harvested mushroom from another farm. The flavor was so different from the mushrooms he had grown up disliking that it completely changed his perspective and inspired him to become a farmer.

Over the years, the farm survived countless hardships, including typhoons and the growing effects of global warming. Listening Mr. Saito speak so passionately about protecting the farm was incredibly heartwarming. He shared that his favorite part of running the farm was hearing visitors say the mushrooms were delicious, and the smile on his face when he talked about it made it obvious how much pride and care he poured into his work. It was not just about mushrooms, but preserving tradition, family history, and years of dedication despite difficult circumstances.

As we left the Sakura Mushroom Farm later that afternoon, the smoky scent from the grill still clung to my clothes while laughter from lunch replayed in my mind. What I expected to be a simple food experience became something much more meaningful: a story about tradition, perseverance, and how even something as small as a mushroom can bring people together.