A quick hello

Pickles guy here—Tomonori Tanaka.

Some people call me **Hakko Shisho** (hakko = fermentation, shisho = master).

I live in Kyoto, and I make pickles almost every day.

This blog is a record of those small daily scenes—so you can taste “time” in ordinary food.

---

Kyuri (Cucumber): Kyoto’s Two Strange Rituals—and the Third One I Actually Use

[Insert Photo 1: Fresh cucumbers—close-up with a little water on the skin.]

I’ve lived in Kyoto for years, and every summer I hear the same line:

*“During Gion Festival, you’re not supposed to eat cucumbers.”*

Why? Because Yasaka Shrine’s crest is shaped like a cucumber cross-section. In the old story, eating cucumbers during the festival would be like eating the shrine’s symbol.

Honestly, I’ve never met anyone who truly follows that rule. Not because they’re rebellious—because cucumbers are too good in Kyoto’s heat.

Farmers pick them from early morning, sometimes three times a day. They’re fresh, cheap, crisp, and basically made of water—exactly what your body asks for in humid summer.

[Insert Photo 2: A simple visual comparison—Yasaka Shrine crest vs. a cucumber cross-section (photo or illustration).]

There’s also a more practical explanation that I like: cucumbers drink a lot of water while they grow.

Kyoto used to have frequent fires, and during festival season people wanted water for emergency use—so “don’t eat cucumbers” functioned like a seasonal reminder: *save water.*

Then comes the second ritual—my favorite one, because it’s beautifully unreasonable.

At Jinkō-in Temple (in Kyoto’s Nishikamo area), there’s a summer prayer called **Kyuri Fūji**—literally “cucumber sealing.”

On the hottest seasonal day (Doyō no Ushi), people rub a blessed cucumber on the body part that feels off, then bury it in the earth.

The idea is simple: as the cucumber rots, the illness is returned to the soil.

[Insert Photo 3: Jinkō-in / “Kyuri-zuka” (cucumber mound) or a quiet shot of cucumbers prepared for the ritual.]

If you can’t bury it, you place it on a mound called *kyuri-zuka*—a pile of cucumbers that will also return to the ground later.

Every year, thousands of people show up. It’s medicine, superstition, and seasonal theatre—all at once.

The third ritual: chop it into “dashi”

My own cucumber ritual is less dramatic, but it’s the one I repeat the most.

It’s a Yamagata-style summer relish called **dashi**—a bowl of finely chopped vegetables that becomes a cold, savory topping.

Put it on hot rice, tofu, or noodles and you suddenly have a meal that feels light, awake, and heat-proof.

[Insert Photo 4: “Dashi” ingredients on a cutting board—everything ready to be chopped.]

A quick method I trust (Yamagata-style dashi)

**Ingredients (makes a small bowl):**

• Cucumber: 1
• Eggplant: 1
• Myoga (Japanese ginger): 2
• Shiso leaves: 10
• Optional: ginger + green chili
• Salt: 1–2% of the total vegetable weight
• Sticky kombu (gagome kombu): a small pinch (optional, but great)
• Seasoning: dashi soy sauce (or a light mix of soy sauce + dashi)

**How I make it:**

1) Dice everything small—around **5 mm cubes**. The size matters. Smaller pieces “blend” into one texture.

2) Salt lightly (1–2%), mix, and let it sit until it releases a bit of water.

3) Add your kombu if you use it, then season with dashi soy sauce.

4) Chill it. The flavor tightens after a short rest.

Eat it like a topping, not a side dish. One spoon can change the whole bowl of rice.

[Insert Photo 5: Finished dashi on rice / tofu / cold noodles—one spoon lifted, so the texture reads.]

Why this belongs on a fermentation blog

Dashi is not “fermentation” in the strict sense.

But it’s the same mindset: cut, salt, wait—let time do a small invisible job.

Summer food isn’t only about cooling down. It’s about staying sensitive—so taste doesn’t go flat.

In Kyoto, cucumbers get two rituals: *don’t eat them*, or *seal illness inside them.*

I choose the third: *eat them with attention.*

That’s how a vegetable becomes a season.

---

Want to keep tasting time?

• **Get new posts**: Subscribe to this blog for one small fermentation note at a time.
• **Use the tool I use**: See Picklestone (the press‑pickling jar behind many of these scenes).
• **Work with me**: For menus, workshops, or editorial features—contact Hakko Shisho.