“Salt the salmon first with just a pinch of salt.”

Mom is super meticulous. Gently rubbing her thumb against her index finger few inches above the strip of fillet, she dusts the length of it with fine shio.

“Then set it aside for ten, fifteen minutes. Always start with the salmon. This way, while it sits aside with the salt, you can prepare the rest. This is called, time management. Managing your time is important in life. Remember that. You get more done in a day. And the salt, the salt is to bring out the flavor of the salmon. Salt is also important in life. Life without salt is bland, meaningless, like chewing on rubber. But too much salt kills everything. That’s why when you have a sore throat, you gargle with salt water to kill the germs. Nothing survives in too much salt. Yes, Jun-kun, too much salt will kill you. So it’s about balance. Finding balance is important in life.”

*

I was seven when mom showed me how to make salmon ochazuke – her favorite among the different ochazukes – her way. The finer points in life took many more years to marinate.

I remember when I was thirteen, a neighbor lady had come to visit at the house. She must have stayed half the day. She and mom were talking about woman things. Things I didn’t understand.

Towards the end of her visit, I remember mom saying, “Let me make some tea for ochazuke.”

The neighbor lady then got up immediately to excuse herself.

“No, no. I have to get going now to start dinner. But thank you. Next time, we’ll plan something ahead of time.”

At that, they parted ways.

“Okasan, I thought you said to always start with the salmon first, tea last, when you make ochazuke.”

“Jun-kun, this is Kyoto. In Kyoto, when you want to tell your guest politely that she has over-stayed, one way could be to offer to prepare some food, which you never have the intention of making. In Kyoto, we all understand this etiquette.”

That day, I learned how ochazuke can restore peace and quiet. Quite literally.

*

“Jun-kun?”

“Hai okasan.”

“That young lady you’re seeing, she’s a little – how shall we say – salty, you don’t find?”

“That’s her unique charm.”

“Jun-kun, go like this.” Mom demonstrates with small rapid motions with her hands how to shred the grilled salmon the way she does it for the ochazuke.

“Okasan, we all learn how to do something first. Then after that, we get comfortable doing it our own way. It’s like I do like my food a little saltier than you do. Not over salty, just saltier.”

“Jun-kun, when you were little, I taught you best as I could to protect you. Today, you’re old enough to correct me so I don’t embarrass myself.”

Mom smiles. I start assembling the two bowls of ochazuke.

The teakettle starts whistling.