It may be raining but flowers are blooming inside. At its usual period cherry blossoms are blossoming again in full splendour.
And once again, like every other time, it touches us as if this is our first time seeing it, opening as if its its first time flowering; like there is no tomorrow.
This season is an exceptional one, because it reminds us that Japan is not dead. Even with one part gone; the others, like the cherry blossoms, are still functioning and alive, reminding us of how a body goes on even if a limb is lost.
Dashimaki (SGD 4.80)
Everything goes on normal here. The dashimaki is warm and fragrant, not salty at all that you wonder if the chefs did season this egg omelette at all, or were eggs so tasty in the first place. Accompanied with cooling grated radish, atop a spectacular plate of speckled pink. Resonating the cheeriness of the place, and cheeriness of the egg.
P.S. Not many things in this world are pink. Pink is red, and white. Like a common strawberry, unless it is in touch with some form of dairy. So is this plate. It reminds me of the unstable nature of the warm colour pink.
