Night quietly enveloped Tokyo. The neon lights flickered on one by one, filling the streets with a lively atmosphere.
A crowd of people milled about. Ikaros held Okabe's hand with her left and Alice Nakiri's with her right, preventing the three of them from being separated by the throng.
"Let's go to 'Kawakoutei' in Shinjuku for our first stop. It's one of Tokyo's older Sichuan restaurants, been open for over twenty years," Alice Nakiri said, looking at the map on her phone and quickly identifying their target.
It was the closest Sichuan restaurant to them.
Soon, the three of them took the subway to Shinjuku.
Kawakoutei's sign wasn't particularly eye-catching among the dense cluster of shops, but the restaurant was packed with diners, and the air was filled with the fragrant, numbing aroma of Sichuan peppers.
"One order of Yuxiang Shredded Pork."
Okabe directly ordered the Yuxiang Shredded Pork listed at the very end of the menu.
"Just this one dish, sir?"
"That's right."
In response to the waiter's quizzical tone, Okabe gave a slight nod. Their purpose here wasn't to eat a meal but to judge whether the Yuxiang Shredded Pork was authentic. Naturally, there was no need to order too many dishes and waste stomach space.
"Alright, I understand."
Though puzzled, the waiter said no more. He called out to the kitchen on his walkie-talkie and then went to serve other customers, clearly very busy.
As the waiter departed, her gaze swept across the restaurant. Looking at the dishes on the surrounding tables, Alice Nakiri couldn't help but exclaim, "So many people are ordering Mapo Tofu. It really is the top-selling dish!"
"It is, after all, the most famous dish in Sichuan cuisine. Its flavor is numbing, spicy, savory, and fragrant—perfect for young people who love seeking out excitement." Okabe followed Alice Nakiri's gaze and, seeing the age of most of the customers, a look of understanding appeared on his face.
Whether in China or Japan, young people would always have the highest rate of eating out.
As a dish with an extremely powerful flavor profile, Mapo Tofu was undoubtedly very popular among the youth, hence its great fame overseas.
Fifteen minutes later.
"Here is your Yuxiang Shredded Pork. That completes your order. The rice is self-service over there, all-you-can-eat and free of charge."
The Yuxiang Shredded Pork arrived at the table. It had a glossy, reddish hue, with shreds of meat intertwined with wood ear mushrooms and bamboo shoots, emitting a rich aroma.
Okabe picked up a mouthful with his chopsticks and savored it carefully.
Beside him, Ikaros and Alice Nakiri also picked up their chopsticks and put some of the dish into their mouths.
"Hmm... it tastes good. Sweet and sour with a bit of spice, very appetizing, but..." Feeling the flavors on her tongue, Alice turned to look at Okabe.
"The flavor is standard, but the 'yuxiang' profile isn't prominent enough. The aroma of the pickled chili and pickled ginger is largely masked by the sugar and vinegar. It's more like a sweet, sour, and mildly spicy stir-fried shredded pork.
It's been modified to suit Japanese tastes and has lost the essence of Yuxiang Shredded Pork."
Okabe, however, frowned slightly, his eyes showing clear disappointment. He then took a small notebook from his pocket and jotted down his thoughts at that moment.
[Insufficient pickled chili flavor, unbalanced sweet and sour, lacking wok hei, and the knife work is also wanting. The bamboo shoots are noticeably thicker, and the texture is subtly astringent.]
"Let's go. On to the next place."
Quickly finishing the Yuxiang Shredded Pork in front of him, Okabe wiped his mouth with a napkin, stood up, and spoke to Ikaros and Alice Nakiri.
"Okay!" Alice Nakiri replied, getting up from her chair.
Next, following the map on the phone, they first went to "Chen Mapo Tofu" in Ikebukuro, and then to several other well-reviewed Sichuan restaurants.
Unfortunately, the results were all more or less the same. The dishes were either too sweet, jarringly spicy, or the sauce was too thick, affecting the texture.
These restaurants seemed to have fallen into a trap: either they catered too much to local tastes and lost the soul of Sichuan cuisine, or their cooking techniques were subpar, leading to inconsistent final flavors. Some were tasty, some were bad, but not a single one felt truly authentic to him.
During this process, Okabe conducted an experiment: at one restaurant, he ordered two plates of Yuxiang Shredded Pork at different times, and the flavors that came out were different.
This alone spoke volumes about the chef's skill level.
They were likely just trading on the name of "Chinese cuisine," attracting so many customers simply due to Tokyo's high foot traffic.
"Brother Okabe, it seems... none of them have the feeling you described."
After visiting several restaurants in a row, Alice Nakiri couldn't help but feel a little discouraged.
Although she thought the Yuxiang Shredded Pork they'd eaten was tasty, it was clearly a far cry from the complex yet harmonious delicacy Okabe had depicted.
"It's fine. The fact that so many Sichuan restaurants can't get it right just proves how exquisite Yuxiang Shredded Pork is."
Hearing Alice Nakiri's words, Okabe's gaze instead grew even more determined. "Besides, all these failed examples have also shown me more clearly which paths don't work and which balance points must be mastered. Just think of it as accumulating experience."
These words were not false. As the number of Yuxiang Shredded Pork dishes he tasted increased, the gustatory image model in Okabe's mind became clearer and clearer, and the flavor profile of the dish within it grew more and more correct. But for some reason, he always felt something was missing; the two words "yu xiang" (fish fragrance) were never fully realized.
"Let's go, to the next one!"
Seeing Alice Nakiri's spirits flag, Okabe's voice grew louder, carrying an inspiring force.
"Master, is this what you are looking for?"
Just as they were preparing to head to the next spot, continuing their aimless blind search, Ikaros suddenly held her phone out in front of him.
The screen displayed information about a small shop called "Master Yang's Sichuan Eatery."
The address was in the relatively remote area of Kameido. It didn't have many reviews, only about twenty, but two out of every three mentioned words like "authentic," "taste of home," and "the owner is nice."
"Yes, this is exactly the kind of authentic Sichuan restaurant I'm looking for. How did you find it?"
Seeing the content on Ikaros's phone, Okabe's face showed surprise.
Hearing his question, Ikaros blinked her emerald eyes and replied calmly, "Through deep web searches and semantic analysis, filtering out overly marketed establishments. The credibility of this one is relatively high."
"Oh, right, there's that trick! I must have cooked my brain silly to forget how to even use a phone. So there's such a convenient function!
You're the best, Ikaros! Let's make this our final stop!"
Hearing Ikaros's explanation, Okabe had a look of sudden realization, and his spirits lifted.
Compared to searching aimlessly and relying on luck, heading somewhere with a clear purpose was much more exciting. Hopefully, this place wouldn't disappoint them!
After some travel, the group arrived in Kameido.
Following the map's navigation, they finally found the small shop deep in an alley in a remote suburb. It had no sign, only the character for "Yang" written on its door curtain.
The interior was cramped, with only four or five tables, yet it was spotlessly clean.
An old man with graying hair leaned against the kitchen doorway, holding a long-stemmed pipe. He watched Okabe and the others enter from the alley, slowly exhaling a puff of white smoke.
"Can they really make good food in such a run-down place?"
Taking in the somewhat dilapidated surroundings, a subtle look of distaste appeared on Alice Nakiri's delicate face. She instinctively moved closer to Okabe, her tone carrying clear skepticism.
"As the saying goes, 'the greatest hermit hides in the city.' Maybe this place's food will be unexpectedly good."
"I feel like the chances of that are very low. This isn't a novel. And there are no customers here; it doesn't seem like one of those 'good wine needs no bush' kind of places at all."
Hearing Okabe's guess, Alice Nakiri couldn't help but retort. If he and Ikaros weren't with her, she wouldn't have set foot in a place like this for anything!
"A child? A woman? Are you hungry?"
Looking at the travel-worn Ikaros, and at Okabe and Alice Nakiri beside her, the old man's brow furrowed slightly as some ideas inexplicably formed in his mind.
"Not too hungry. We saw your restaurant on a review site. The comments said you have the most authentic Sichuan cuisine here, so that's why we came."
Ikaros stepped forward as their representative and briefly explained their purpose.
"Then you've come at an unlucky time. 'Master Yang's Sichuan Eatery' has been temporarily closed for a few days.
As you can see, my shop is in a terrible location. Years ago, there was a main road out front, and we had plenty of customers. But five years ago, this area started undergoing redevelopment. With all the construction, apartment buildings went up in front, and this became a narrow alley.
My neighboring businesses moved away one by one because of poor sales. I held on for five years for my regulars, but now those regulars have either passed away or moved. The daily customer flow is less than ten people. Even with almost no rent here, I can't keep it going any longer."
Seeing the woman and children standing before him, the old man silently put down his pipe, his voice tinged with a hint of helplessness.
This street was once bustling. Now, due to urban planning, it had fallen into this dilapidated state. The narrow alley and shabby environment certainly didn't make anyone want to spend money here, and it was hard to create a market.
Hearing the old man's words, Okabe frowned slightly and said, "So you don't have any dishes at all?"
"If I haven't prepped any ingredients, how can there be any dishes? It's my fault for not taking down the listing on that review site, making you come all this way for nothing. I'll have my grandson take the information down later, so no one else wastes their time."
Listening to the rambling old man, Okabe felt a headache coming on. Had they really come all this way for nothing again? So he asked, "Is your Sichuan food authentic?"
"My little shop managed to last five years longer than my competitors precisely because of this authentic Sichuan cuisine.
It's just a pity that in Japan, authentic Sichuan food doesn't have a large audience. After all, Japanese people's tolerance for spice is generally low, and not many can even handle the numbing-spicy flavor. It got to the point where everyone just started going to the new-style Sichuan restaurants outside."
Faced with Okabe's question, the old man didn't care that he was just a child, and a clear hint of displeasure appeared on his face.
His failure was purely a matter of location. Back when the main road was in front of his shop, they could serve over fifty customers a day, even on weekdays. When it got busy, his grandson would have to come and help!
If it weren't for the urban planning that made a large portion of the neighbors who had eaten at his shop move elsewhere, he probably wouldn't have gone out of business on the strength of those repeat customers alone.
"We will take care of the ingredients. But I want to eat the most authentic Yuxiang Shredded Pork. I was wondering if you could make a portion for us.
It sounds funny, but we've traveled across half of Tokyo for this single taste, and we still haven't found the flavor from my memories."
Okabe looked at the old man before him, his voice filled with sincerity.
This was not a lie. In his past life, he had eaten a truly delicious Yuxiang Shredded Pork, and that was the fundamental reason he couldn't forget it. But among all the restaurants in Tokyo, he could never find that flavor from his memory.
"You'll take care of it?"
"It's still early, the supermarkets haven't closed. It won't take long to go and come back. We just want to taste authentic Yuxiang Shredded Pork. Could we trouble you?"
"If you can prepare the ingredients yourselves, then it wouldn't be right for me to refuse. After all, the root cause is that I didn't have my grandson take down the shop's information, which is why you found your way here."
Looking at Okabe's determined gaze, the old man, though puzzled as to why a young child would be so persistent about Yuxiang Shredded Pork, nodded in agreement.
"Deal!"
_____
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