Autumn, the season of taste. As this season of endless culinary delights arrives, my heart naturally lifts. Saury, chestnuts, matsutake mushrooms, new rice, and fruits like pears, apples, and persimmons... I want to eat this, I want to eat that. As the air cools and my appetite grows, there's no greater happiness than savoring the delicious flavors of the season. It was during such a time that I encountered a wonderful book about "food."

It was *Shokuma* by Kanoko Okamoto. *Shokuma*, written with the characters for 'food demon,' is read as 'gourmet.' While it can also be written with characters meaning 'gourmand' or 'food connoisseur,' the essence of a gourmet is truly a 'food demon' captivated by 'food.' When I first saw this book, I exclaimed, 'That's exactly right!'

The book contains five short stories, including the title piece, and twenty-two essays, all centered around the theme of 'food.' Among them is a story titled 'Sushi.'

There was a child who, from a young age, disliked sweets. The child's diet was unbalanced, disliking fish and not fond of vegetables. Meat was out of the question. The child felt a sense of defilement when anything with color, aroma, or taste entered the body, making meals a torment. The only things the child could eat were salty rice crackers, eggs with nori, and soft, sour foods like raw plums. Worried about their child's declining health, the mother decided to make homemade sushi.──.

The scene where the child eats the sushi made by this mother is breathtaking! It begins with egg sushi, followed by squid, sea bream, and flatfish. The mother crafts the sushi like a magician, and the child, upon tasting it, expresses the deliciousness with their entire being, filled with a vibrant joy at being able to eat fish for the first time. Reading about the mother's slightly dazed expression, holding back her tears of happiness as she watched her child exclaim, 'Sushi! Sushi!' brought tears to my eyes.

As autumn drew to a close and the air grew chilly, rows upon rows of astringent persimmons, tied with string, hung from the eaves of my grandmother's house. I thought, 'This must be punishment for the astringent persimmons,' and looked up with a mischievous glint in my eye. But as the days passed and they grew thinner, wrinkled, and their surfaces turned white, I became frightened. They looked like something strange and uncanny, and I remember trying not to look at them too much.

One evening, I was asked to help bring in the persimmons, which had become like E.T.s, from the eaves into the house. Feeling a bit embarrassed to admit that 'those persimmons are scary,' I pretended to be unfazed.

Taking the persimmons my grandmother had taken down from the eaves, I arranged them on a colander, trying my best not to meet their gaze (though they had no eyes). Even though I was holding them by the strings, I'd occasionally brush against a persimmon, and its rough texture would send a shiver down my spine.

As my grandmother carefully handed me the persimmons, she said, 'These persimmons, which have absorbed so much of the sun's blessings, are delicious.' 'Can these be eaten?' I asked in surprise. 'Would you like to try?' she smiled and, with scissors, snipped the string and handed me one. Though I felt 'scared,' my curiosity wouldn't let me resist. Avoiding eye contact with the persimmon (again, it had no eyes), I tentatively took a small bite from the edge. It was hard, and I couldn't quite tell, but there was a faint sweet aroma, so I thought, 'Maybe it's okay,' and took another bite. Then, the deep sweetness of the persimmon spread through my mouth, and I involuntarily exclaimed, 'Delicious!' The outside was firm, but the inside was chewy and had an interesting texture. I finished it in no time. My grandmother called it 'hoshigaki'—dried persimmon.

From that day on, I came to love astringent persimmons. How could something so astringent transform into such a sweet and delicious food? As I savored the persimmon, transformed as if by magic, I was deeply moved by the allure of 'food.'

This year too, the season for delicious persimmons, autumn, has arrived.