Sensenshuu, “the week before last.” It’s old news now, but for the historical record, this is what happened:
I’ll call them the Osaka Gang since they’re basically the only Osaka folks I know at the moment and they’re a tight group. Chika, Kazu and Sayo, whom Mari and I met at the rice planting gathering a few months ago, visited us in Kyoto for a Sunday afternoon and dinner. We walked casually around the neighborhood, visiting Manshuin temple and Shisendo garden, trading English and Japanese vocabulary and phrases along the way.
All the while, Mari was in the kitchen, fixing deep fried beans and tempura among other delicious things. Wait, I know that might sound bad: me out and about while Mari cooks. Except she really loves to cook, and I did join her in the kitchen when the rest of us got back to the house. My contribution was a big a pot of chicken and vegetables with green curry and coconut milk.
Finally our Spanish next-door neighbors joined us, bringing their little boy and a bottle of Manzanilla sherry, and we all sat down to eat. Lots of food — bread, rice, fried beans, tempura, green curry, vegetables and salad, beer and a luxurious assortment of department store cakes. We’re still finishing the drinks and ice that our guests brought us.