Noodle love

Endo Furahashi pushes through the indigo curtain and steps into the little workroom that fronts the bleakness of the Takamatsu street. Tall and thin, in a white chef’s outfit, he looks not unlike an udon noodle himself.

He bows a little automatic bow towards the plate glass window, then immediately sets to work mixing the fine white wheat flour with pure, clean Kagawa-prefecture water. Within minutes, a small crowd gathers: a businessman in a shiny blue suit, two white-socked schoolgirls, a mother with a baby cradled loosely in her arms, and Yoshiko, her eyes fixed on the willowy young man in the spotless white jacket. Her stare is intense and unblinking, as if she fears that even a momentary pause would cause the chef to disappear from sight.