A Smoky Smell
Summer in Japan is barbecue season. Partly that’s because it is, let’s say, bold to leave raw fish outdoors for longer than three seconds in these godless, blistering temperatures, let alone try to serve it to anyone. And partly it’s because there is nothing more flavorful than sinking your teeth, with an ice-cold beer, or in my case tea loaded with rattling ice cubes, in freshly grilled scraps of meat, blazing-hot sausages, and the occasional almost-scorched piece of vegetable. Ideally it happens while good conversations flow and cheerful company gathers around. In that setting even the sweatiest evenings can be endured with a little style, a lot of taste, and decent entertainment, and somehow they pass pleasantly instead of painfully. That, in short, is summer survival, Japanese-style.
A few friends and I therefore met above the rooftops of Kumamoto, at the American-leaning burger, hot-dog, and barbecue spot Jiro 26, to celebrate that day’s sunset once again for the brief coolness it brought along. We were entrusted with cute little gas grills and got to ornament each of them with bite-sized steaks, strips of bacon, and wiener sausages. Between the meats we set down carrots, cabbage, and bell peppers. When everything was cooked through and tantalizing, we dipped the treats in punchy sauces and let them melt away on our damp tongues. From the terrace we watched the city settle as the sky dimmed. Tongs clicked and grills hissed softly while we hovered, trading pieces, comparing doneness, raising toasts to the breeze and fading light.
Because we are, all of us, small gluttonous creatures, we raided the steaming pot of curry after the barbecue, as well as the rice cooker standing beside it with an almost innocent air. To wrap things up we went bowling at the nearby sports center, where we taught the pins a lesson in fear. Evenings like these are my regular reminder of why I love Japan - apart from the candy-colored entertainment industry and the tropes that are so quick to see through. After all, here I get to have a wonderful time with even more wonderful people I would never have met otherwise. They anchor me to ordinary joy and make the city feel friendly, close, and warmly lived-in - and delicious barbecue comes on top.