Sweeter Than Yesterday
An old regular tastes the soup and remembers
Every morning, an old man comes to my diner.
His name is Mr. Tanaka, and he is seventy.
He always sits at the same table by the window.
He knew my grandmother for more than thirty years.
Today, I him a hot bowl of soup.
He takes a slow and thinks for a moment.
"This is sweeter than yesterday," he says quietly.
I am happy, but I want to know more.
"Was my grandmother's soup better than mine?" I ask.
He smiles and says, "Hers was a little saltier."
Yesterday my soup was too for some people.
Today it is sweeter because I added less salt.
I the soup and it in my mind.
My soup is getting closer to her old flavor.
But it is still not as warm as hers.
Mr. Tanaka says, "Your soup is better today."
"It is richer and softer than last week," he adds.
His words make me feel stronger and more .
I write a small note in the recipe book.
"Less salt, more time," I write in blue ink.
Good soup is slower and needs more .
Tomorrow I will try to make it even better.
Little by little, I am finding my grandmother's .