Japanese Food Bites: Indulging in the Taste of Summer

By Emily Inga

Yesterday, we traded the temples of Kyoto for the bright energy of Tokyo. The journey began with a two and a half hour morning Shinkansen ride, although I barely remember most of it. 

As our program is coming to an end, exams have suddenly become very real. Many of my peers were either asleep or desperately reviewing their notes. While I wish I could say I was a part of the second group, my exhaustion won. My eyes closed for what felt like a moment and when I opened them again, Tokyo was already rushing past the window. 

When we arrived, we discovered we still had two hours before hotel check-in. Rather than sit around with our luggage, Doris, Faith, Julianna, Laurel, and I set out in search of lunch. Our destination was a restaurant on the fifth floor of Parco Mall, which sounds simple until you realize the designers clearly knew what they were doing.

To reach the restaurants, we had to ride escalators past floor after floor of clothing stores, shoe shops, and displays filled with things we definitely did not need but suddenly wanted. Faith said she had to fight and resist the urge to buy anything else as her budget was dwindling. What should have been a quick escalator trip upstairs turned into nearly forty minutes of wandering. By the time we finally reached the fifth floor, finding lunch felt like an accomplishment.

The restaurant level felt like a collection of tiny worlds. Each storefront was carefully designed to match its theme, making every entrance feel like a doorway into a completely different experience. We eventually settled on Marumo Kitchen and were shown to a wooden table tucked inside a cozy dining room.

After glancing at our confused expressions, the waitress kindly offered us English menus. I hesitated for a moment. In many tourist-y areas around the world, English menus come with a higher price. As a soon-to-be-broke college student approaching the end of a study abroad program, I was not eager to spend extra money, but to my surprise, the prices were exactly the same!

The meal itself quickly became the highlight of lunch. I ordered a salmon and avocado rice bowl set, and the moment it arrived at the table, I knew I had made the right choice. Thin slices of cold salmon rested over a bowl of warm rice while bright green avocado filled the empty gaps. Alongside it came a steaming bowl of soup, crispy fried chicken, and a small gelatin dessert that wobbled slightly every time someone bumped the table.

The first bite was exactly what I had been hoping for. The cool salmon melted into the warm rice while the avocado added a buttery richness that tied everything together. Every part of the meal felt comforting, but if I am being honest, the avocados were the real reason I ordered it.

Avocados are a staple in my house back home. It feels like someone is slicing one open almost every day, whether it is for breakfast, lunch, or a quick snack. Since coming to Japan, I have realized how rarely I eat them here. I knew I missed them, but I did not realize just how much until I found myself excited over a few cubes of avocado.

As simple as it sounds, that meal felt familiar. Between the warm soup, the salmon, and the avocado I had been craving for almost 2 months, lunch became more than just a stop between activities. It was one of those small moments that quietly reminded me of home. Sometimes it is not a complicated recipe or a special occasion that sparks a memory. Sometimes it is just a single ingredient you never expected to miss. 

However the true culinary highlight came that evening at Great India, a small restaurant only 5 feet away from our hotel. I had been craving it ever since we left Ikebukuro. The moment I stepped inside, warm aromas of toasted spices and simmering sauces filled the air. The flavors were bold, layered, and vibrant in a way that I have deeply missed. Japanese food is incredible, but the heat and complexity of Indian cooking offers a completely different experience. An experience I am familiar with even though I come from a different culture. It was in that restaurant that I realized how much I missed the warm kitchen of my home and the richness of spices in my foods. 

Apparently, I was not the only one who felt that way! Several students have already visited before me, and when I arrived, I found Professor Ito, Johan, and Claudia seated inside. The restaurant only has a small counter with room for fewer than ten people, but that closeness creates something special. Conversations flowed naturally, and before long we were sharing stories about our day, sharing our adventures, and laughing over how many of us had independently ended up in the exact same place.

As I walked back to the hotel that night, I realized that the day had been filled with familiar comforts. What began as a simple travel day between Kyoto and Tokyo became something more meaningful. Between avocado, spices, and conversations with friends, I found small reminders of home while preparing to say goodbye to a place that has started to feel like one.