I want to share the things that never show up in our food photos.
I'm Kitasaki, the manager of AKITEI in Nagarekawa, Hiroshima.
On this page, little by little, I'll write not only about our food, but also about the work that goes into serving each dish, and about the people I work with.
When you look at photos of a restaurant, your eyes probably go to the food first.
What kind of beef is it? Does it look delicious? Who would you go with?
That first impression matters a great deal.
But for those of you who have become curious about us, I'd love for you to see a little further behind the scenes.
What we think about before a dish reaches the table.
What we hesitate over in our work, and how we try to do better.
How the people beside us help us every day.
Stories like these carry something of a restaurant's character that a menu alone can't convey.
Not every story will be a grand one.
Some may be small realizations, or things that are hard to put into words.
Even so, I want this to be a place where we tell you about our work in our own words.
"I want to try the dish from that story."
"I want to visit the restaurant where those people work."
I'm writing toward the day when readers feel that way.
Starting from the work that happens before an evening around the sukiyaki or shabu-shabu pot,
I'll share AKITEI with you here, one story at a time.
Today, let me begin with a little about AKITEI's nights.
Craving sukiyaki at 2 a.m.
I wonder how many people have felt that way.
It's a little late for dinner and still too early for breakfast.
The city lights are slowly going out, and it's hard even to find a place that's open.
And yet, nights in Nagarekawa, Hiroshima don't end at the same time for everyone.
Someone who has just finished work.
Someone who wants to keep talking with a friend they haven't seen in a long time.
A traveler who has lost track of time and thinks, "I want one last good meal in Hiroshima."
Imagine that one of them, at 2 a.m., thinks,
"Tonight, I want to eat something truly delicious before I go home."
I want AKITEI to be the place that comes to mind at that moment.
That's how I think about why AKITEI is open from 5 p.m. until 9 the next morning.
It's late at night, so a simple meal will do.
It's late, so you'll just have to make do.
Of course, there are nights like that.
But I believe that people whose day ends late also deserve time to gather around a pot and savor fine beef.
Talking with someone across the rising steam.
Placing the beef in the pot and waiting for just the right moment.
Saying "This is so good," and reaching for another slice.
Sukiyaki and shabu-shabu are not dishes to rush.
That's exactly why they can gently slow down the pace of a busy day.
Staying open until morning isn't simply about long business hours.
It's about having a meal ready and waiting at the hours people need it.
It's about being a place where, at the end of the night, you think, "I'm glad this place was open."
That, too, is part of AKITEI's work.
Tonight again in Nagarekawa, from 5 p.m. until 9 the next morning.
Whenever you find yourself craving sukiyaki or shabu-shabu late at night, please remember AKITEI.
Kitasaki