October 2024, Kannazuki Katame (In-depth)

There is a magazine called **"Amakara Techo"**. It seems to be Kansai-based and is rarely seen in the Kanto region. Since it features restaurants, I guess you could call it a gourmet magazine. However, this "Amakara Techo" is a rare magazine with a unique elegance in both its name and appearance.

I’ve had two articles published in this "Amakara Techo." The first was about **Kato Miso**, a miso shop in Kyoto, and the second was about **Inaka no Taiho**, a country-style restaurant opened by the second generation of **Taiho**, a famous Chinese restaurant in Kyoto.

The reason I’m bringing up this "Amakara Techo" is because this summer, I did a fieldwork project with my university students, where we toured Kyoto’s confectionery shops under the title **"Amaama Techo."**

For this "Amaama Techo" project, we visited some truly prestigious shops: Kagi Zenyoshifusa, Shioyoshiken, Senbon Tamajuken, and Tsuruya Yoshinobu. We were given the chance to hear many stories and take tours of the shops. The students probably didn’t realize the value of this experience—it was just pure luck for them. Honestly, I spent most of the time worrying that the shop owners might get offended by the students’ behavior. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. Among all the things we discovered, I’d like to introduce the **"Shamido"** box in this article. If you look at the photo, you’ll notice that it’s a little more rounded compared to an ordinary box. The name "Shamido" comes from the fact that its shape resembles a shamisen (a traditional Japanese musical instrument).

When I saw these boxes lined up at Kagi Zen's shop, I thought, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if WLK products came in boxes like this?" Kagizen once said that sweets aren’t just about the taste experienced through the mouth or nose, but the name and the box also play a part. And if you have some knowledge, it stimulates your mind, which makes the sweets even more delicious.

Kyoto sweets express various things through their colors and shapes, but they are more abstract compared to sweets from Kanto (Edo). This is where the beauty of the unknown comes in, and in that way, they are similar to modern art.

Now, about the boxes—product packaging is a very important element. Changing the topic slightly, something like this happened once. There was a plant in the studio called a pachira, a common plant you can find anywhere (oh, by the way, it’s still there and doing well). Someone saw it and said, "This is lovely, what kind of plant is it?" I replied, "Huh? It's a pachira, you can buy it anywhere." A while later, I thought about why such an ordinary plant appeared so special. Then I realized—it was the pot. I had put it in a nicer pot.

Sometimes the pot, or the box, can overshadow the main item. That's why luxury items often come in fancy or elaborate boxes. Even rings, if handed over without a box, might lose their magic in an instant.

That’s why manufacturers place great importance on boxes, and there are still specialty stores that sell just boxes. A box can stabilize the value of something fragile or even double or triple its perceived worth. Personally, I’m not fond of boxes that aim to make things look two or three times better than they are. It doesn’t sit right with me, and I get bothered by excessive packaging.

But when it comes to confectionery shops, their packaging feels different. It seems as if the box was made solely to wrap that specific sweet, with the same level of care put into the packaging as the sweets themselves (though I do think more mass-produced packaging has been increasing lately). The box isn’t trying to make the sweets look many times better. Plus, they’ve been using the same boxes for years, and the materials aren’t plastic, but natural ones. There’s a sense of kindness and nostalgia to it that, at this point, actually feels fresh and new. It’s so amazing, there’s no competing with it—it’s just beautiful.

By the way, **Taiho** is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year! Congratulations!

2024.10 Yosuke Sakai