Few people know that the natural color of the Japanese tatami is, in fact, green.

It is only with wear and sunlight that it becomes its trademark straw-yellow color.

All right, everybody knows that. Especially around here, where Eriko gave me her usual demeaning laugh when, upon my discovery that every patch of tatami that had remained covered by furniture so far, was much greener than the rest, I suggested mould.

Crazy stuff, I know…

Oh, and the free-falling posting rate? What can I say, critical sense is a bitch.

Seriously: once you start actually wondering twice whether what you are about to type is worth the time, or if you shouldn’t instead run to the local combini to see if they got any new seasonal flavored beer… that’s the end of it all.

Upon inquiries, I also learnt that fresh miso (thanks Tracey honey for the gift: it’s yummy) can be kept for ages, preferably in a fridge, but outside as well. Then again, while this piece of cultural knowledge has been crosschecked with two sources, the sources themselves: probably old enough to remember that time when the sound of thousands wooden geta rumbled like thunder each time the lights went blue on Shibuya crossing, makes me a bit suspicious.

I have nothing against Obachan wisdom, they sure know tons of things we don’t…

When it comes to food conservation policies, however, I have learned to maintain healthy amount of skepticism with my own grandma’s advice. I don’t see any reason to change this attitude with friends’ elders. Especially when said elders might have some incentive in ridding the family from a potential blood-tainting in-law.

I mean, my dear gran’ will assure you that the shell life of your average xmas pudding can be counted in decades…
In fact, she is quite convinced that pudding works much like wine and is only worth consuming after it’s been left aside for a dozen years at least…

She ought to know: she’s been making and eating them for longer than I’ve been on this planet.

Yet, does that mean I ever forget to discreetly leave the family christmas table under some dubious pretense just before desert gets served? hell no.

I mean: I love her and all, but I grew up in the second half of this century, we didn’t have tuberculosis and bubonic plague to harden us. Some stuff won’t kill you, but it sure won’t make you stronger either…