Nichiyobi's

There is a Japanese marketplace called Mitsuwa near my hometown back in Jersey. When I was younger, my extended family would agree to meet up there on certain Sundays to catch up and simply enjoy each other's company. It was soothing - a respite before the adults had to go back to work and the children, back to their Kumon. Maybe it was the warm feeling I got from seeing my whole family, just laughing together between hot slurps of shrimp tempura udon, but I really came to love Japanese culture. Well, at that age I didn't really know what Japanese culture was but it didn't matter. To me the Japanese were a group of soft spoken people who offered an unexplainable comfort through their frothy green teas and delicate cuisine.

Now I am much older but I still experience a child-like pleasure every time I step into Mitsuwa. I'd go with my mother, arm tightly clutched around hers, Asian-style, and we'd peruse through the aisles of endless ramyun and sweet mochi's. An hour prior to closing, the prepared foods are marked down in hopes of selling the day's bento specials before they must go to waste. Though we've had much better chirashi and dragon rolls, the thrill from purchasing something just one dollar cheaper is enough to keep us going back for more. Call us Asian. And now I miss those idle walks. I just wish I had the leisure to go back to New Jersey and stroll through that marketplace with my mom again. I wonder, is everyone homesick? It's always those soothing, nearly ritualistic memories that keep us reminiscing about home.