Why I Write

On food, memory, and keeping Kyoto close wherever I go.

I write to stretch the bounds of Kyoto, carrying it with me wherever I happen to live.
　

I was born in Kyoto.

When you live in Kyoto, the seasons announce themselves not through the shifting temperatures, but through sweets. There are dainty, soft pink sakuramochi wrapped in pickled cherry leaves, minazuki crafted to resemble ice to ward off the early summer heat, and now, right on our doorstep, steamed chestnut yōkan.

Amid Kyoto’s punishing September heat and humidity, the golden glint of chestnuts tells us that autumn, undeniably, has arrived.

This rhythm of life was so natural that I never second-guessed it.
　

That shifted as the end of my Ph.D. drew near. Looking for jobs, I quickly realized that most opportunities were concentrated in Tokyo, leaving me with little choice but to relocate.

Once I decided to move, it hit me that these sweets were tethered to specific shops in Kyoto. I was suddenly terrified that moving to Tokyo meant I might never be able to eat them again.

In a panic, I turned to the internet for answers.

Fortunately, Tokyo’s department stores did carry many of them. I was relieved. But at the same time, I discovered something unexpected: almost no one was writing about these sweets from a local’s perspective.
The few who covered them were living in Tokyo, introducing them as unfamiliar treats they had discovered for the first time. They were viewed as exciting novelties, rather than daily parts of growing up in Kyoto.
　

So, in the autumn of 2023, I launched a blog called Luco’s Sweets Diary.
Today, 60,000 visitors a year come looking for the 99 articles I’ve written so far.
　

This past summer, my partner said, “Looking ahead, I’m considering joining a research lab in California.” Once again, I found myself facing the possibility of leaving behind something I had taken for granted.

This time, I may end up living in a place where wagashi is nowhere to be found.

If my writing can encourage even a few more people to see wagashi not merely as an exotic delicacy, but as a tradition deeply rooted in everyday life, and ultimately inspire someone, somewhere, to take these sweets into the world, nothing would make me happier.