Sanma Issue 6: Cheers! Japanese Umeshu X Taiwanese Cuisine

*Sanma* Issue 6: Cheers! Japanese Umeshu X Taiwanese Cuisine There was a time when I was utterly captivated by izakayas. Every weekend, I'd meet friends to "critique" various izakayas, searching for the ultimate (さいこう, *saikō*—Japanese for supreme) establishment. A must-order at any izakaya was a glass of umeshu—umeshu served with a large ice cube, about half the size of a fist, clinking softly in the glass, adding to the convivial atmosphere of the bustling izakaya. The quality of the umeshu thus became a quiet benchmark for judging an izakaya's success. This summer, while visiting the Tohoku region of Japan, I went to an izakaya in front of a shrine with local friends. Eager to try the authentic Japanese umeshu on the menu, I was met with surprise from my Japanese companions, who asked, "Huh? Why would a Taiwanese person order umeshu at an izakaya?" Later, over drinks, they shared their stories. Everyone at the table had a personal connection to umeshu: some recalled the tedious process of washing plums with their mothers every summer to make umeshu; one sister drank an entire jar at home after a heartbreak; years after starting work, they remembered the taste of their grandmother's homemade umeshu, a flavor now lost. It turned out that for many Japanese people, umeshu is a "home" drink, and those who order it at an izakaya are likely reminiscing about the taste of home. Back in Taiwan, still pondering this "Taiwan-Japan difference" regarding umeshu, I began to consider how this flavor, so representative of "home," could be integrated more deeply into our lives. This led to an idea: inviting 10 Taiwanese and Japanese gourmands to explore local alleys with umeshu. Starting with "Taiwanese Cuisine Paired with Japanese Umeshu," the aim was to move umeshu beyond the izakaya setting. By pairing it with different dishes, we explored how the sweet and sour notes of umeshu could create subtle, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes innovative, flavor profiles in the mouth. This November marks the first anniversary of *Sanma* magazine. From Kyoto to Ginza, from accommodations to folk crafts, from curry to umeshu, we've witnessed the rough yet vibrant hands of artisans who've inherited centuries-old techniques. We've savored the dedication of century-old restaurants to their cuisine, striving to serve a bowl of rice they can be proud of. We've seen towering mountains nurture forests and streams, offering travelers moments of spiritual tranquility. As *Sanma* has journeyed back and forth between Taiwan and Japan, we've continuously reflected on how to guide this "Japanese culture magazine" toward a broader future. At this one-year milestone, *Sanma* has solidified its goal: to serve as a bridge between Taiwan and Japan, originating from Taiwan. We aim to provide Taiwanese readers who love Japanese culture with the same sense of wonder as if experiencing it firsthand from Japan, and to let Japanese people we encounter on our journey hear Taiwan's voice. With this belief, this issue features an interview with Michiko Tanaka, author of *The Homecoming: Taiwanese Descendants in Japan*. Facing the "Bayisei" (Taiwanese descendants in Japan) who have longed for their homeland for 70 years, perhaps like how saying "'Sanma'—the Taiwanese Hokkien and Japanese word for saury—is pronounced the same in both languages" quickly bridges the gap with Japanese people, we can learn from each other's experiences in culture, life, art, and design, viewed from both Taiwanese and Japanese perspectives, gradually growing stronger. Taiwan's plums are harvested from March to May, while Japan's are gathered in June. Though their growing seasons differ due to latitude and climate, both cultures share the tradition of making plum wine. The same glass of umeshu carries two distinct images: one enjoyed in an izakaya, the other as a cherished home beverage. Within the vast landscape of Japanese culture, *Sanma* continues to navigate the Kuroshio currents between Taiwan and Japan, sharing more worthy scenes to be recorded.