I fling open the staff entrance door at the back of OPA. Glancing at the cow illustration on the Miyoshi Honten sign—the kind that looks like it was drawn by Daniel Johnston—I cut through the narrow alley next to the FamilyMart and come out onto Shijo Street. If the traffic light at the intersection is green, I’m in luck. If it’s red, I head straight down the arcade toward Karasuma, keeping up a fast-paced walk. Even on a weekday, Shijo Street at lunchtime is quite crowded, so I sway and slide my body through the waves of people while maintaining a constant speed. My target time is under three minutes. Cutting inward as I head down Teramachi Street, the banners of Eishotei quickly come into view.

Even after things got busy with my band, I asked to be allowed to keep my job at Tower Records. Working only on the weekdays I was available, and on a specially short shift from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., my break time was set at thirty minutes. Using these thirty minutes to go from OPA, where Tower Records was located, to Eishotei to eat soba had become something of a routine for me. The moment I took a seat, the middle-aged lady would ask, "The usual?" as she served the tea. Shy as I was, I would answer, "Yes, please," with the exact same embarrassed look every time. In a flash, a bowl of kake soba would be brought to my table, and I would be moved in the exact same way every single time by the almost-too-perfect, wonderful aroma—a blend of the dashi broth, the boiled noodles, the green onions, and the tiny piece of yuzu resting gently on top. I love kake soba as a dish, and it isn't just because it’s served so quickly. I loved the kake soba in Ishikawa where I grew up, too, but the kake soba in Kyoto is truly exceptional. It is simple yet multi-dimensional, fragrant, and warming to the stomach—and on top of that, it is usually the most reasonably priced item on the menu. That is true for kake soba anywhere, but the aroma and umami of the dashi in Kyoto's kake soba are on a whole different level; no matter which shop you go to, it is served as a proper, well-crafted dish. I also love how it carries an air of, "Well, this is just how it's supposed to be."

There are many things that cannot be found even in Tokyo, a place that seems to have everything. This kake soba is precisely one of them. And that is perfectly fine. Even if I can no longer eat my "usual" whenever I want, it will always remain one of the reasons why, no matter how much time passes, I still find myself wanting to "return" to Kyoto.