Sakura shichimi and charcoal shichimi x new employees | Mother's Day gift that brings back memories of meals with aroma

A one-room apartment in Tokyo.

A six-tatami mat room with a table and a microwave.

On the shelf, there are instant miso soups I bought in advance.

Mei Tanabe, 22 years old.

The life of a company employee that started in spring is much more physically demanding than I imagined.

Even when I get home, I don't have the energy to cook.

I bought a cutting board, but I haven't used it even once.

Mother's Day was approaching.

I send something to my mother at home every year, but this year, my feelings were somehow different.

Since moving to Tokyo, I haven't properly expressed my "thank you."

Just sending flowers as usual didn't feel like enough.

During lunch break, I happened to find a pop-up Japanese goods store on the first floor of a building.

There were several types of shichimi (seven spice) packed in small bottles, and what caught Mei's eye was a set of "sakura shichimi" and "charcoal shichimi."

I picked it up and gently opened the lid of the sakura shichimi.

── Sweet and gentle.

A fluffy aroma like flowers dissolving in steam.

It reminded me of the spring dining table with bamboo shoot rice.

"Look, you finely chopped the bamboo shoots,"

my mother used to say with a smile.

The moment I opened the charcoal shichimi bottle, a different memory resurfaced.

At night, after returning from cram school, my mother silently offered me grilled rice balls with a crispy surface.

The moment the savory smell wafted through my nose, I thought, "She must have known I was hungry."

It might be enough if it's not an expensive gift, but something that "gently accompanies the memories of that person's cooking."

I had the shichimi set wrapped and bought stationery at a café in front of the station.

I wrote, "Thank you, even though it's a bit late," and ended with, "I hope we can eat those rice balls together again someday."

A few days later. I received a letter from my mother, not a LINE message.

The shichimi you sent me, I put the sakura one in soup, and the charcoal one was perfect for grilled chicken.

Scents really do bring back memories.

Holding the reply letter, Mei stood in the kitchen.

I warmed up tofu and seaweed miso soup and sprinkled some sakura shichimi.

The aroma that gently rose created a little spring in my Tokyo room.

A Mother's Day gift of memories through scent.
→ View the set of sakura shichimi and charcoal shichimi

▼ New employee, Mei Tanabe's "Kyoto Asanoha Storybook"
→ Yuzu essential oil and hinoki essential oil × New employee | The scent that organizes becomes the breath of night and morning
→ Healing incense scented with hemp charcoal × Working adult | On nights when I don't want to meet anyone, only the smoke is by my side.