Fake Cinderella

"... it's cold"

When I got home, I shook at the cold.

Home alone, it's cold. Not only is it cold as a physical sensation, but like this, something psychological.

I don't have any words to say back to you that I'm too single to be frightened.

(But I'm not feeling indisposed, and if I tell you it's not dreary, it's a lie, but that doesn't mean I don't mind getting married...)

I may have been told a long time ago that I was a loser or something, but I don't even think I lost anything.

Plus, I'm happy with my life now that I'm free to do whatever I want.

"Sammy."

Find the lighting switch by hand in a dark house where no one answers, put it on.

I left my almost written recipe on the table as I went out this morning.

"Hot water, hot water"

Switch on the electric kettle.

When you come home, it's the usual routine to drink something warm and warm up your body.

"I don't know what I'm going to do today"

Speaking up about something may also be a hallmark of living alone. I say it out loud, even if it's nothing.

Even though there's no one to hold me back.

The cage on the table contains a bottle of handmade teak and various flavors of ginger water ingredients, as well as a can of my favorite white peach oolong tea I bought online, so that I can drink it whenever I have hot water.

I think the pleasure of choosing is the moisture of life.

"It's cold today, turn it into lemon ginger water."

I marinate the sliced lemon and ginger in honey. This was soaked last year. Lemon won't rot if it's well soaked in honey. Dissolve this in hot water for a sweet, good throat and a sweet hot drink perfect for your body's warm winter. If it was summer, it would be delicious to chill out the ice and drink. Ginger lemonade, so to speak.

I have air conditioning but I don't really use it. It's a bungalow of 22 years old stuff, so the gap breeze is amazing.

Warming is warm, but I feel like I'm wasting my electricity bill. Feels like a bad idea in terms of cost performance.

Take off your coat while the water is boiling and turn your foot toward the bedroom.

"I knew you'd forgotten here..."

I was a little relieved to discover a cell phone that I had left by my bedside.

The light pink gold shaded phone is from three years ago. My kids at work often tell me that I don't have a phone this thick right now. I get lost every time a new model is announced, but I can't find a phone that I like about everything and I still can't replace it.

When I saw the screen, there were seven incoming calls.

I don't see it for half a day. I know it depends on people if there are seven or fewer, but it's a lot for me.

"That's Senior Miyazaka..."

There was a rare voicemail on it, so I'll play it back.

"Maya? It's Smell Slope. I think I probably forgot my phone because I don't have any emails or returns... just call me when you get back. I have a job. '

"... excuse me. Exactly."

I think talking to TV, voicemail and stuff like that is like a mortal scumbag who lives alone for a long time.

I apologized small with my hands on my phone.

I, Asae Wazumi, am a pastry chef with a side business doing temporary cocks for wine bars.

Maybe I should say pastry ale because I'm a woman, but I always say pastry because the title of the store's business card is chief pastry chef. Whether it's a main business or a side business, when you name it yourself, it's a cook or a cooking job.

Working in the main business is a fruit tart shop on the back street of Ginza, a popular place for magazines all the time.

I'm one of the three chiefs.

There are 12 pastry chefs in the store, including apprenticeships, and four of them are on one team.

The chief's prerogative is not to have to go to customer service. I'm glad to hear customers when I'm serving them, but I was glad when I got promoted because I prefer to be making them.

I don't hate work, but there are some things I'm a little short on.

Naturally, there's no room in the store to devise your own recipes because they're strictly set, and it's a little stressful to say that you can only make the same thing every day, every day, whatever the slightest difference depending on the season.

That's another place to work to make up for it.

I only enter the wine bar kitchen once or twice a week, run by my senior husband, who worked for our store, the night before the store was closed at the rotation.

Even if there is a menu for alcohol here, there is no menu for cooking. With the ingredients we purchased that day, making the right dish for your wine is one of the sellers.

The open kitchen counters are always seen by the guests, and it's hard to get distracted by the fact that there's no menu. I decide to make a menu while communicating with customers, so it's a dish, but something serious! I feel that. I really like that reasonably tense feeling.

My salary is cheap and a little tight for late at night, but I can remember the taste of wine while being trained by customers who are noisy about the flavor, and working here is an important time for me.

I'm working part-time on a holiday. Then they often say it's not going to be a holiday, for example, if you think it's the same as spending a holiday on a hobby.

Ordinary people would use their time for hobbies on days off from work. with it.

That's how I do what I want in my case, and I even get the part-time bill, so it's exactly one stone and two birds.

"... are you busy? Senior."

I returned it to Senior Smell Saka but it didn't take long.

Email me and stand in the kitchen.

Many people say cooks don't want to cook at home, but I also do at home.

It is not uncommon to make a novel contribution because it combines a variety of studies. Of course, it's fundamental to eat responsibly to the end… there are times when you can't really eat.

This bungalow, the landlord's separation, was said to have been inhabited by an old lady who said she liked cooking.

Because of this, the kitchen is quite full.

It's a lot of thought and design and it's quite user-friendly, and most importantly, the oven is great on it. It's very rare to have a kitchen with such an authentic oven for rent.

This oven was the best decision to rent this house.

The menu for my dinner today is on.

When I make rice noodles, I use earthen pots. Once simmered, it is wrapped in a blanket in a newspaper for each pan to keep warm. I did that in the morning and when I came back, the flavor was really sticky. Insulated cooking, so to speak. Looks like there's a special pot, but I don't need that at all. I can cook rice in earthen pots and use many things, so a large earthen pot is a necessity even if you live alone.

While warming the rice noodles, I noticed that I made kimps of radish and carrot skin.

(No pepper...)

A spicy rice noodle is like having no caramel sauce on your pudding! I resolutely demand pepper!! Nah, I live alone even if I try to excel. I just have to go buy my own.

(I don't have a choice)

I decided to go to the convenience store for a three-minute walk.

It's cheaper in the supermarket, but there's a little distance. At this hour then I don't mind going for a moment.

Noise everywhere these days. This place is close to the boulevard, and there are many street lights, so it's still better. I wish I was in the city at times like this.

I was relieved to see the light in the convenience store.

It would be somewhat reassuring to see that logo sign because I'm familiar with Tokyo life.

I originally came from the mountains of Hokkaido, but it's been over 10 years since I came to Tokyo.

The signal on the crosswalk turns blue.

I heard a deafening braking noise called Keeky and someone screaming the moment I stepped out of my foot.

(... eyelids...)

My body fluttered into the universe the moment I thought I figured out why I was dazzled, and my consciousness whited out.