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Soul of Japan 1  One evening, after a remarkably long faculty meeting at St. Joe's, I dropped into Terrell's to relax. Eric was sitting at the table near the faux fireplace. He noticed me and shouted my name. I had wanted a quiet drink, but with Eric yelling at the top of his lungs, I had no choice.  "Sit down, sit down, Charley. I finished it."  "It?"  "Something completely different."  Ayumi came over to take my order. "Chardonnay and a plate of assorted cheeses."  "And put it on my tab, Ayumi," Eric insisted.  Now I felt compelled to read his something different work, despite my brain being drained by the endless faculty meeting. "This story is completely different," he said, pushing the manuscript toward me.  "From what?"  "You know, the usual travelogue tales. This story will elevate you. To a spiritual and psychological plane—one that transcends the ordinary."  "All that in just four page...
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The Sashimi Knife

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I The sashimi knife was of the Yanagiba type and dangerously sharp. Lydia bought the knife as part of her collection of kitchen knives. An adventurous cook, she ventured into Japanese cuisine almost as soon as we moved into our two-story house in Yokohama.   She learned from a sushi chef the correct way of slicing the fish in one smooth pull of the knife from its base to the tip. In time she was able to cut the maguro blocks we bought fresh from the fish market into thin slices effortlessly one slice after another. Lydia loved to cook and invited friends over for meals. Inevitably, after eating, the friends would praise Lydia culinary talents. “Claude, you’re so lucky to be married to Lydia. A superb cook. A gracious hostess. Charming. And, you lucky devil, attractive. Why, she could model for a fashion magazine.” I uttered the appropriate replies husbands give when hearing how wonderful their wives were. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky at that.” Of course, only I knew about her little i...
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Location: Yokohama, Kanagawa, Japan
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