“Upon a wooden counter disturbingly overgrown with green moss sits a shallow, round sushi rice mixing bowl half filled with greasy water containing fish parts, shaved fish meat and rows of skewered shellfish that have been dried in the sun, almost all bearing price tags of ten sen or less. As far as I can see, the eyes of the dead fish are all stagnant and cloudy, the scales on their bellies have faded to a pale bluish white, and the chilled bloody edges of their sliced meat have lost so much of their freshness that the colours in each shop front are not only unpleasant but downright depressing. The sight of dripping blood used to terrify me whenever I passed a butcher shop in the West , but here, to the contrary, the thought of that this faded cold fish meat is the only source of nourishment for the blood of most of my countrymen fills me with irrepressible sorrow.”
Nagai Kafū, “Behind the Prison”.
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 