Autumn nights are long. I lose myself in reading, unconcerned with the clock. After the brevity of summer nights, the darkness feels even more profound, drawing me deeper into my books.

In novels and essays, food often makes an appearance. If the description is subtle, I find myself wondering about the form and the dishes used. But if it's rendered with too much detail, I'm suddenly overcome with appetite, wanting to taste the meticulously described food in the middle of the night—it's quite a predicament.

My first encounter with the writer Mari Mori was through her novel 'Sweet Honey Room' (Chikuma Bunko). I was captivated by its unique world and atmosphere, and it quickly became one of my most cherished books.
While Mari Mori is generally categorized as 'decadent,' reading her essays reveals a 'straightforward, charming person who loved what she found beautiful.' Her world transcends simple categorization as merely 'decadent.'

She had a particular penchant for food, expressed in her own unique way. Her meticulousness often resonates with me, moving me deeply. The way she describes ingredients, for instance, using elegant kanji like '麺麭 (pan)' for bread, '牛酪 (gyūraku)' for butter, '洋杯 (yōhai)' for a Western-style cup, and '肉汁 (nikketsu)' for soup—these, along with her preferences beyond food, are sprinkled throughout her writing, shining and captivating my heart. Among her essays, the one titled 'Egg' is particularly special to me.

“＜Omitted＞ My fondness for eggs isn't just about eating them. First, I love their shape, ＜omitted＞ that slightly pointed, unstable roundness at one end. It's a joyful shape. ＜omitted＞ Recalling the rich, yellow weight of an egg that just flowed down my throat at breakfast, seeing the eggshell on the plate translucent like a dimly lit room with the shoji screen closed is the happiness of a breakfast table. There is brightness in the taste of eggs, and happiness is contained within.” (Quoted from 'Kiroku no E' by Mari Mori, Chikuma Bunko)

This quote has become quite long, but I find myself envying and aspiring to the depth of charm and enjoyment one can find in a single egg—and there is much more in the full text. Beyond simply focusing on whether things taste good or not (though deliciousness is crucial for food), it's about the importance of approaching each food with greater interest and attention, savoring the meal to the fullest. I feel that if we do so, the nutrients will permeate every part of our being, making both our minds and bodies beautiful.

Mari Mori's sensibility stimulates me, awakening my senses. It prompts me to question not just what I resonate with, but what constitutes 'true beauty' in my own vision, beyond mere aesthetics. For now, I will begin by contemplating the egg, something I dearly love.

My favorite egg dish is a simple omelet, which Mari Mori also seemed to favor. Melt butter in a frying pan, pour in three eggs (an easy amount to manage), and as they begin to set, quickly stir them lightly with chopsticks. Swirl the pan to move the eggs, and when the center is still slightly runny, fold it into thirds. Season with salt and pepper, and it's done. Occasionally, adding diced tomatoes as an ingredient not only enhances the flavor but also creates a beautiful contrast of yellow and red.

The blessings of eggs, a beautiful expression of happiness.

“The first joy of an egg dish! It’s the moment you crack the egg.”