I had one of the best meals of my life recently, a $13 bowl of braised pork over rice, and the story of the guy who made it is one I think you may appreciate. Cleaned up from a more fluid conversation in Japanese (he’s French, and better than me at it) and English:
“I always wanted to be the best. So I went to the best chefs in France and asked under whom I should study, and they said that if one wanted to be the very, very best, one should learn Japanese. So I did, and I came here, and I found a chef to work under.”
“And I worked hard, and he was as good as you could expect... but I wanted more. I asked him when we would learn the people’s food, but he said that the best in Japan do not make it. They make kaiseki and [list of high cuisine types].”
“The food of the streets can feed a hungry man after a day of labor, but it is not worthy of study, it is not worthy of love. I say non. I left and I found another chef, who looks at the streets not the stars, with grease on his hand. And I worked hard under him.”
“And now I own a tiny cafe, and I wake in the morning at 4 AM to braise the beef, and I know that this is what I was always meant to do.”
