My mother

My mother My mother and I turned the corner street part of Tsukiji, and there eyes open close ranks stalls and shops that traded dried fish flakes, knives, trays of sushi, ceramic utensils, specific ingredients and seasonings for the kitchen kaiseki.

Some shops belong to a particular family for fifteen generations, and rooted in a time when the Greater Tokyo was not a conglomerate of small towns and districts, with a population of 30 million people, as of now, but was a few hundred shacks surrounding the old castle .

All shops in this part of the Tsukiji bear the haze of time, giving the place a tangible aroma history.

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