Travel/POI: Japan Kyoto 日本京都 2026.05 - 12. Nishiki Market and Beyond 錦市場及其他

錦市場 Nishiki Market

錦市場是位於京都市中心，一條有彩色玻璃天頂的商業街，沿著錦小路通（Nishiki-koji Street），全長約 390 公尺，西起高倉通（Takakura-dori），東至寺町通（Teramachi-dori）。這裡匯集了約 130 家店鋪，出售新鮮海產、「京野菜」（京都傳統蔬菜）、傳統醃菜、湯葉（腐竹）以及各式各樣的街頭小吃，長期以來被譽為「京都廚房」（Kyō no Daidokoro）。

市場的起源十分久遠，據傳其歷史可追溯至延曆年間（782–805 年），雖然無確鑿文獻留存，但市場得以延續，主要歸功於當地豐富的地下水資源；這些地下水常年保持在攝氏 15 至 18 度之間，像個天然冰箱能保鮮魚類，使它成為向鄰近的京都御所供應鮮魚的理想場所。關於市場最早的確切官方記錄可見於 1615 年，當時江戶幕府正式認可了京都的三家特許魚類批發商——即「上之棚」（Kami-no-Tana）、「錦之棚」（Nishiki-no-Tana）和「六條之棚」（Rokujo-no-Tana）——這標誌著「錦市場」成為大規模魚市場的第一步。

幾個世紀以來，除了海鮮之外，新鮮蔬菜和京都特色的醃製食品也逐漸成為市場的主要商品。進入現代時期後，市場的性質發生了顯著變化：明治維新廢除了舊有的行會壟斷制度，競爭隨之加劇，導致許多大型商鋪倒閉。1927 年京都中央批發市場啟用時，許多商家遷往此處，但錦市場並未因此衰落，反而進行多元化發展——新的商戶組織開始推廣水果、蔬菜和肉類等各類食材，市場也成功轉型為供應京都日常烹飪所需食材的零售勝地。「京都廚房」這個美譽便是在 1928 年前後生根並流傳開來。 1984 年，市場鋪設了鵝卵石路面；1993年，由玻璃與鋼材做成的彩色拱廊頂棚完工，給予市場如今這種獨特的室內步行街氛圍。在現存最古老的商舖中，有一家名為「木村」（Kimura）的魚店，其歷史可追溯至元和年間（1615–1624 年），是錦市場最早期的商家家族之一。

如今，錦市場既吸引京都本地居民，也深受遊客青睞；它與毗鄰的新京極（Shinkyogoku）及寺町（Teramachi）的有頂棚商業街自然銜接，共同構成了京都中心地帶最熱鬧的商業區之一。

2026 年 5 月 6 日下午，我們從鞍馬寺和貴船神社玩回來，到錦市場時已是兩三點鐘了，既飢腸轆轆又雙腿酸痛。一踏入市場，各種感官體驗便迎面而來，令人目不暇給：沿街攤位鱗次櫛比，各色美食琳瑯滿目，一個比一個誘人。我們選了幾串烤串，味道恰到好處，大大滿足了味蕾。隨後，意猶未盡，我們便找了一家店品嚐抹茶霜淇淋——那滋味濃鬱醇厚，帶著優質宇治抹茶特有的微苦回甘，令人回味無窮，倍感滿足。

Nishiki Market (錦市場) is a covered shopping street in the heart of Kyoto, stretching approximately 390 metres along Nishiki-koji Street between Teramachi-dori to the east and Takakura-dori to the west. With around 130 shops selling fresh seafood, kyō-yasai (Kyoto heirloom vegetables), traditional pickles, yuba, and all manner of street food, it has long been known as "Kyoto's Kitchen" (Kyō no Daidokoro).

The market's origins are ancient, though the earliest records are uncertain. It is said to have begun during the Enryaku era (782–805), though no reliable documentation survives — the tradition rests mainly on the area's abundant cold groundwater, which maintained a temperature of 15 to 18 degrees Celsius year-round and served as a natural refrigerator for fresh fish, making the location ideal for supplying the nearby Imperial Palace. The first firm official record dates to 1615, when the Edo shogunate formally recognized three privileged fish wholesalers in Kyoto — the Kami-no-Tana, the Nishiki-no-Tana, and the Rokujo-no-Tana — marking Nishiki's first step toward becoming a full-scale fish market.

Over the centuries, fresh vegetables and Kyoto's distinctive pickled foods gradually joined the offerings alongside seafood. The market's character shifted significantly in the modern era: after the Meiji Restoration abolished the old guild monopolies, competition became fierce and the number of large shops collapsed. When the Kyoto Central Wholesale Market opened in 1927, many vendors relocated there, but rather than decline, Nishiki diversified — new associations promoted fruit, vegetables, and meats alongside seafood, and the market reinvented itself as a retail destination for everyday Kyoto ingredients. It was from this period, around 1928, that the nickname "Kyoto's Kitchen" took root. The cobblestone floor was laid in 1984 and the colorful glass-and-steel arcade canopy was completed in 1993, giving the market the distinctive sheltered atmosphere visitors see today. Among its oldest surviving shops is Kimura, a fish shop that traces its history back to the Genna era (1615–1624), one of the market's original merchant families.

Today, Nishiki draws both Kyoto locals and tourists in equal measure and sits naturally alongside the neighboring Shinkyogoku and Teramachi covered shopping arcades — together forming one of central Kyoto's liveliest commercial districts.

We arrived at Nishiki Market on the afternoon of May 6th, 2026, after returning from Kurama-dera and Kibune Shrine — footsore and hungry by two or three in the afternoon. The market was an immediate sensory overload in the best possible way: stall after stall of things to eat, each one more tempting than the last. We settled on some grilled skewers, which hit the spot exactly. Then, because there was clearly room for dessert, we found a matcha soft-serve ice cream — intensely flavored, properly bitter in that way that only good Uji matcha can be, and deeply satisfying.

早餐 Breakfast

在台灣老家，尤其是在城市裡，找早餐吃是件輕而易舉的事。早餐店開門早，選擇豐富，整個飲食文化的建構，都圍繞著在開啟新的一天前所享用的一頓既快捷又令人滿足的早餐。然而，京都的情況卻讓我們有些出乎意料。飯店附近的大多數店家都要等到上午較晚的時候才營業——有時甚至要到十點才開門。只有少數幾家獨立小咖啡館、麵包店或日式快餐連鎖店會在早上七八點左右開門，而便利商店往往成了享用早餐最可靠的選擇。

這種差異是無法從旅遊指南中領略到的。只有當你真切地站在清晨八點的空蕩街道上，飢腸轆轆地望著那些緊閉店門的鋪面時，才能切身體會到這一點。這讓我想起了那次義大利之行：傍晚五六點鐘想找地方吃晚餐，簡直是徒勞無功——大多數餐廳要到八點才開門，而且當地人對於竟然有人想提早用餐感到有些困惑不解。旅行往往會迫使你必須做出這些調整：要嘛入鄉隨俗，要嘛忍飢挨餓。

Back home in Taiwan, especially in the cities, finding breakfast is effortless. Breakfast shops open early, choices are plentiful, and the whole culture is built around a quick, satisfying meal before the day begins. Kyoto caught us off guard. Near our hotel, most places didn't open until well into the morning — sometimes not until ten o'clock. Only a handful of small independent cafés, bakeries, or Japanese fast-food chains opened earlier, around seven or eight, and convenience stores were often the most reliable fallback for an early breakfast.

This kind of difference is impossible to appreciate from a guidebook. You only feel it when you're actually standing on an empty street at eight in the morning, hungry, watching shuttered storefronts. It reminded me of our trip to Italy, where looking for dinner at five or six in the evening was an exercise in futility — most restaurants didn't open until eight, and the locals looked faintly puzzled that anyone would want to eat earlier. Travel has a way of making these adjustments non-negotiable: you either adapt or go hungry.

寺町京極商店街 Teramachi Kyogoku Shopping Street

寺町京極商店街，早晚景象差異極大。早上 7 點多，所有店門深鎖。

The Teramachi Kyogoku Shopping Street presents a vastly different atmosphere in the morning compared to the evening. It was just past 7 a.m., and all the shops were tightly shut.

麵包店 Bakery

儘管清晨十分靜謐，我們還是在一條小巷裡找到了一家小麵包店。

Despite the early-morning quiet, we did manage to track down a small bakery in an alley.

霞-KASUMI- KASUMI

有一天早上，我們偶然發現了一家獨具特色的咖啡館 - 「霞-KASUMI-」。店內各處裝飾著五彩斑斕的乾花，角落和牆壁上點綴著迷人的貓咪插畫——這裡給人的感覺，彷彿是出於店主真摯的情意所精心佈置的，而非只是遵循某種設計方案。它白天供應定食與甜點，入夜後則搖身一變，成為一家溫馨愜意的居酒屋。

我們各自點了不同的定食，端上來的餐點著實令人驚喜：十道精緻小菜，均以京都新鮮特產和時令蔬菜為主角——有在湯汁中慢燉的柔嫩豆腐、燉得軟糯的南瓜、火候恰到好處的蓮藕，還有各式輪換供應的精美小碟。這種一次享用十道各具特色佳餚的體驗，本身就是一種獨特的享受，讓這頓早餐更像是一場豐富的美食鑑賞之旅。

我還點了一份巴西莓果碗——它清涼爽口、色彩鮮豔，上面堆滿了各式水果——與桌上那些低調優雅的日式料理形成了令人愉悅的對比。這是一頓讓人感覺一切都恰到好處的餐點：食物、環境，以及京都早晨那份悠閒從容的步調。

One morning we stumbled upon a café (KASUMI) with a character entirely of its own. The interior was draped in dried flowers in every color, with charming cat illustrations tucked into corners and along the walls — the kind of place that feels like it was decorated with genuine affection rather than a design brief. By day it serves set meals and desserts; by night it transforms into a warm, intimate izakaya.

We each ordered a different set meal (teishoku), and what arrived was a genuine delight: ten small, carefully prepared dishes built around fresh Kyoto produce and seasonal vegetables — silken tofu simmered in yudōfu broth, kabocha pumpkin braised until tender, lotus root cooked just so, and a rotating cast of other small plates that made the whole thing feel more like a tasting than a breakfast. Having ten dishes to work through at once, each one distinct, is its own kind of pleasure.

I also ordered an açaí bowl — cool, vivid, and fruit-piled — which provided a cheerful counterpoint to the quietly elegant Japanese dishes on the table. It was one of those meals where everything felt right: the food, the setting, the unhurried pace of a Kyoto morning.

日本飯糰 Onigiri

當然，要解決早餐問題，我們還有另一個策略：就是在前一天晚上就買好日本飯糰。結果這成了一個意外的驚喜，因為這讓我們找到機會去專門的飯糰店購買現做的飯糰，而不是去便利商店冷藏櫃拿那種預先包裝好的產品。

差異立竿見影。剛做好的飯糰帶著溫熱，米飯口感軟糯適中，餡料的搭配也顯得頗具巧思，而非千篇一律的標準化產物。這裡的種類遠比便利商店貨架上的豐富——從米飯的調味、各具地方特色的餡料，到各式各樣的海苔包裹與頂部點綴，應有盡有——逐一品嚐這些飯糰本身就成了一種小小的樂趣。原本只是為了解決吃飯問題而採取的權宜之計，最終卻成了這趟旅程中令人難忘的美食體驗之一。

We also had another strategy for the breakfast problem: buying rice balls the evening before. This turned out to be a happy accident, because it pushed us toward freshly made onigiri from a dedicated shop rather than the pre-packaged ones sitting in a convenience store cooler.

The difference is immediately apparent. Freshly made onigiri are warm, the rice still has give, and the fillings feel considered rather than standardized. The variety on offer was far wider than any convenience store shelf — different rice seasonings, regional fillings, varying wraps and toppings — and working through the options became a small pleasure in itself. What started as a practical workaround ended up being one of the more memorable eating experiences of the trip.

民以食為天 Food is Heaven

京都寺町鯛めし槇 Taimeshi Maki

在寺町通，我們發現了一家名為「京都寺町鯛魚卷」的專門店，主打源自四國愛媛縣、備受喜愛的特色美食——鯛魚飯（taimeshi）。該店的招牌特色是「一飯兩吃」：上桌時，白米飯上鋪滿了新鮮的鯛魚刺身，並佐以秘製醬汁和生蛋黃。我們先享用一半的蓋飯，細細品味刺身純淨甘甜的滋味與濃鬱蛋黃及醬汁交織出的美妙口感；吃到一半時，店員會為剩餘的米飯注入溫熱的鯛魚高湯，將其瞬間轉化為「茶泡飯」（ochazuke）——這種浸潤在湯汁中的溫暖收尾，讓整道風味呈現出截然不同的風味。

除了經典版本，還可以搭配海膽或鮭魚卵等配料與鯛魚同享——如果您想滿足海鮮控的味蕾，這會是個不錯的選擇。

這是一道需要耐心去品味的佳餚：克制住一股腦將所有食材拌在一起的衝動，讓碗中兩部分各自呈現獨特的風味體驗，這本身就是享受過程中的一大樂趣。

On Teramachi-dori, we found Kyoto Teramachi Taimeshi Maki, a specialist restaurant dedicated to taimeshi — the beloved regional dish of Ehime Prefecture in Shikoku. Their signature style is a single bowl enjoyed two ways. It arrives as a generous arrangement of fresh raw sea bream (madai) sashimi laid over white rice, dressed with a house sauce and a raw egg yolk. You eat half of it as a rice bowl, savoring the clean, sweet flavor of the sashimi against the richness of the yolk and sauce — then, at the halfway point, a server pours warm sea bream broth over what remains, transforming the rest of the bowl into ochazuke, a comforting, soup-soaked finish that feels like an entirely different dish.

Beyond the classic version, you can add toppings like sea urchin (uni) or salmon roe (ikura) to pair alongside the sea bream — a good option if you want to lean fully into the seafood and make a meal of it.

It is the kind of dish that rewards patience: resisting the urge to mix everything together at once, letting the two halves of the bowl be their own distinct experiences, is very much part of the pleasure.

Kirameki no Tori（キラメキノトリ）

參觀完京都御院，我們來到了 Kirameki no Tori (キラメキノtori)吃午餐。這是一家總部位於京都的連鎖店，其菜單主要有兩種：濃厚雞白湯拉麵，以及台灣台灣乾拌麵——一種無湯乾麵，已成為當今備受矚目的熱潮。

雖然名字裡帶有「台灣」二字，但「台灣拌麵」其實與台灣毫無關係——它源自日本愛知縣的名古屋。這道料理誕生於 2008 年，出自名古屋一家名為「麺屋はなび」（Menya Hanabi）的拉麵店。當時，店主本想研發一款「台灣拉麵」，卻意外做出了一批不適合加入湯底的香辣肉末。一名員工建議不要將之丟棄，而是直接拌在麵條上食用；這一無心插柳的嘗試，最終演變成了一股風靡全國的美食熱潮。這道麵食由口感勁道的粗麵為底，鋪上香辣鮮美的肉末、蛋黃、韭菜、魚粉和海苔；食用時需將所有食材充分拌勻，最後還可以加一勺白米飯，拌入碗底剩餘的醬汁與配料，吃得乾乾淨淨。

Kirameki no Tori 將這款源自名古屋的美食帶到了京都，並將其打造為當地的名產，在城內開設了多家分店。店內的麵條均為自製：拉麵選用 100% 北海道產的小麥，拌麵則使用長野縣產的小麥——這種對食材的講究，彰顯了店家對烹飪技藝的嚴謹態度。這正是一種樸實卻極具滿足感的美味，既能引得食客排隊等候，也讓人忍不住再次光顧。

After visiting the Kyoto Imperial Palace Park, we went to Kirameki no Tori for lunch. Kirameki no Tori (キラメキノトリ), a Kyoto-based chain with a focused two-item menu: rich chicken paitan ramen, made from a deeply reduced white chicken bone broth, and Taiwan mazesoba — the soupless, dry mixed noodle dish that has become one of Japan's most talked-about recent noodle crazes.

Despite its name, Taiwan mazesoba has nothing to do with Taiwan — it originated in Nagoya, Aichi Prefecture. The dish was born in 2008 at a Nagoya ramen shop called Menya Hanabi, when the owner, attempting to develop a Taiwan ramen recipe, ended up with a batch of spiced minced pork that didn't work in the broth. A staff member suggested putting it directly over plain noodles instead of throwing it away — and what began as a happy accident became a nationwide phenomenon. The result is a bowl of thick, chewy noodles loaded with spicy-savory minced pork, egg yolk, garlic chives, fish powder, and nori — all mixed together at the table, with a scoop of white rice offered at the end to mop up whatever remains in the bowl.

Kirameki no Tori has taken this Nagoya original and made it a Kyoto staple, with multiple locations across the city. The noodles are made in-house using 100% Hokkaido wheat for the ramen and Nagano wheat for the mazesoba — a level of detail that signals the kitchen takes the craft seriously. It is the kind of unpretentious, deeply satisfying bowl that earns a queue, and earns a return visit.

Don to Temaki 玄海 (丼と手巻き玄海)

我們的下一頓晚餐是位於錦市場的海鮮蓋飯與手捲壽司專賣店－「玄海」（Genkai）。這家店的獨特之處在於其食材選料考究：其藍鰭金槍魚精選自長崎和壹岐島——這兩地均屬日本西部久負盛名的漁產勝地——並搭配其他優質新鮮海鮮，呈現出絕佳風味。

這頓飯格外迷人之處，在於桌上放著一張卡片，教你如何正確享用這碗佳餚——這是一種「兩幕式」的體驗，透著幾分儀式感。

第一重滋味：將特製醬油淋在新鮮海鮮與米飯上，細細品味，讓魚鮮與米香的純粹本味自然呈現。第二重滋味：預留一部分海鮮與米飯，示意服務生注入濃鬱鮮香的鰹魚高湯，將這碗料理化作「茶泡飯」（ochazuke），最後佐以酸薑與各式香氣四溢的配料，盡享美味。

這與我們上次在京都「京都寺町鯛魚卷」（Kyoto Teramachi Taimeshi Maki）吃到的那種「一飯兩吃」的鯛魚飯非常相似——都是將一碗飯享用成兩道截然不同佳餚的巧思。即使是第二次體驗，這種感覺依然新鮮且帶有一絲節慶般的儀式感；這是一種讓人不由得放慢節奏、全心投入去品味的用餐體驗。

Our next dinner was Don to Temaki Genkai (玄海), a seafood restaurant in Nishiki Market known for its seafood rice bowls (donburi) and freshly hand-rolled sushi. What sets it apart is the sourcing: the bluefin tuna is carefully selected from Nagasaki and Iki Island, two of western Japan's most celebrated fishing regions, paired with other premium fresh seafood.

What made the meal particularly charming was a card on the table walking you through the proper way to enjoy the bowl — a two-act experience that felt almost ceremonial.

The first act: drizzle the house soy sauce over the fresh seafood and rice, and eat it slowly, letting the clean flavors of the fish and the rice speak for themselves. The second act: set aside a portion of the seafood and rice, signal your server, and they pour a rich, aromatic katsuo (bonito) dashi broth over what remains — transforming the bowl into ochazuke, finished with pickled ginger and fragrant condiments.

It was strikingly similar to the two-way sea bream rice (taimeshi) we had eaten at Kyoto Teramachi Taimeshi Maki earlier in the trip — the same idea of one bowl enjoyed as two distinct dishes. Even the second time around, the experience felt fresh and a little festive, the kind of eating ritual that makes you slow down and pay attention.

黑毛和牛熱心屋京都八坂 Nesshinya Wagyu Restaurant 和牛レストラン熱心屋

參觀完法觀寺及其標誌性的五重塔後，我們拐進附近的餐廳享用午餐－「熱心屋」（Nesshinya）。這是一家和牛料理店，位於東山區，距離八坂塔僅幾步之遙。

Nesshinya 的獨特之處在於它獲得了清真認證——這一貼心的細節讓穆斯林遊客也能享用到高品質的日本和牛，同時也反映出近年來京都餐飲界正悄然變得更加包容。餐廳主打黑毛和牛（Kuroge Wagyu），供應形式更適合輕鬆品嚐與分享，而非傳統的正襟危坐式正餐；菜品包括和牛烤串、各式和牛壽司，以及最引人注目的和牛米漢堡——這種漢堡用兩塊緊實且經輕微炙烤的米餅取代了傳統麵包，將和牛料夾在其中。

我們點了幾道招牌菜，大家圍坐在一起分享，一邊閒聊一邊細細品嚐著各式串燒與壽司。這種用餐方式輕鬆愜意──既帶點縱情放任，又讓人倍感滿足；在漫步京都鋪著石板路的小巷度過一上午之後，這一餐真是時機恰到好處。

After visiting Hōkan-ji Temple and its iconic five-story pagoda, we ducked into a nearby restaurant for lunch: Nesshinya (熱心屋), a wagyu restaurant just steps from Yasaka Pagoda in the Higashiyama district.

What makes Nesshinya a little unusual is that it is halal-certified — a thoughtful detail that makes high-quality Japanese wagyu accessible to Muslim visitors and a reminder of how Kyoto's dining scene has quietly grown more inclusive in recent years. The menu centers on kuroge wagyu (Japanese Black beef), served in formats designed for grazing and sharing rather than a formal sit-down meal: grilled wagyu skewers, wagyu sushi in various styles, and the dish that caught our eye immediately — wagyu rice burgers, where the "bun" is replaced by two compact, lightly grilled rice patties holding the beef together.

We ordered a selection of their signature dishes and shared everything around the table, working through the skewers and sushi one piece at a time. It was a relaxed, convivial way to eat — a little indulgent, wholly satisfying, and perfectly timed after a morning of walking Kyoto's stone-paved backstreets.

團子 Dango

在返回新京極商店街的途中，我們看到路邊有人正用炭火烤團子——於是，我們自然而然地停下了腳步。

團子是日本最受喜愛的傳統甜點之一。這種小巧圓潤的丸子通常由上新粉（普通米粉）、白玉粉（糯米粉）或兩者的混合粉製成，經水煮或蒸製後，用竹籤串起——每串通常串有三到四個丸子。其獨特風味的關鍵在於最後的烹飪步驟：將丸子烤製或煎製，直至表面微焦並帶有些許酥脆感，隨後裹上醬汁或配料。焦香酥脆的外皮與柔軟軟糯的內裏形成鮮明對比，正是這種口感讓現做的團子令人難以抗拒。

最常看到的種類包括：

御手洗團子（Mitarashi Dango）－一款經典之作。團子經輕微炙烤後，裹上一層由醬油和糖熬製而成的濃稠光亮糖漿，入口既有甜味，又兼具鹹香。這也是最常在街頭攤位上用炭火現烤製作的團體。
花見團子（Hanami Dango）－賞櫻季備受喜愛的時令美食。這種團將三種不同顏色的丸子串在一根竹籤上：粉紅色（櫻花或草莓味）、白色（原味）以及綠色（抹茶或艾草味）。它既是美味小吃，也是一道賞心悅目的視覺展現。
紅豆沙團子（Anko Dango）－原味或微甜的團子，裹上口感細膩、濃鬱醇厚的紅豆沙。簡單質樸，但非常暖心。
黃豆粉團子（きな粉団子）－包滿烤黃豆粉的團子，散發著溫暖的堅果香氣，有時還會加入綠茶粉。質樸又不失美味。

站在京都的一條小巷裡，吃著剛從炭火上烤好、還帶著餘溫的團子——那正是那種不經意的小插曲，給我們的旅程贈添了亮點。

On our way back toward Shinkyogoku Shopping District, we spotted someone grilling dango over a charcoal fire at the roadside — and naturally, we stopped.

Dango is one of Japan's most beloved traditional sweets: small round dumplings made from joshinko (rice flour) or shiratamako (glutinous rice flour), or a blend of both, shaped into balls, cooked by boiling or steaming, then threaded onto bamboo skewers — usually three or four per skewer. The real character comes in the finishing: the dumplings are grilled or pan-seared until the surface is lightly charred and faintly crisp, then coated in sauce or toppings. That contrast between the smoky, caramelized exterior and the soft, chewy interior is what makes freshly made dango so irresistible.

The most common varieties you'll encounter are:

Mitarashi Dango (御手洗団子) — the classic. Lightly grilled, then glazed with a thick, glossy syrup made from soy sauce and sugar that hits the palate as simultaneously sweet and savory. This is the one most likely to be made fresh over charcoal at a street stall.
Hanami Dango (花見団子) — the seasonal favourite for cherry blossom viewing. Three dumplings on one skewer, each a different color: pink (cherry blossom or strawberry flavored), white (plain), and green (matcha or mugwort). As much a visual statement as a snack.
Anko Dango (あんこ団子) — plain or lightly sweetened dumplings blanketed in smooth, rich red bean paste (anko). Simple and deeply comforting.
Kinako Dango (きな粉団子) — dumplings generously dusted with roasted soybean flour (kinako), which has a warm, nutty fragrance, sometimes alongside green tea powder. Rustic and earthy in the best way.

Standing on a Kyoto backstreet, eating freshly grilled dango still warm from the charcoal — it was one of those small, unplanned moments that end up adding a highlight to our trip.

其他 Catch-all

旅行總是能讓人發現一些細微的習慣與習俗，而這些都是你在旅遊指南中絕對不會注意到的。以下便是幾個引起我注意的例子。

Travel has a way of surfacing small habits and customs you would never notice from a guidebook. Here are a few that caught our attention.

現做食物晚上打折 Evening discounts on freshly prepared food

有一天傍晚，我們信步走進高島屋（Takashimaya）百貨公司的地下美食廣場，發現了一個彷彿「內行人知道」的秘密：每晚七點過後，各類現製食品便開始降價促銷——無論是便當、沙拉、熟菜、小吃，甚至是當天未售出的新鮮海鮮和優質魚肉（赤身/akami），都在打折之列。這些折扣貨真價實，品質也依然上乘，畢竟所有商品都是當天一早新鮮製作的。

對於下班途中順道買晚餐的通勤者來說，這是一個非常實用的選擇；對於精打細算的旅客而言，這同樣是一筆划算的交易。我們唯一遇到的問題是時間——每當我們偶然發現這些折扣時，往往都已經吃過晚餐了，只能帶著些許遺憾望而興嘆。

One evening we wandered into the basement food hall of the Takashimaya department store and discovered something that felt like an insider secret: after seven o'clock, freshly prepared foods begin to get marked down — bento boxes, salads, cooked dishes, snacks, and even fresh seafood and lean cuts of fish (akami) that haven't sold through the day. The discounts are real and the quality is still excellent, since everything was made that morning.

It is a genuinely practical option for commuters picking up dinner on the way home, and an equally good deal for travelers watching their budget. The only problem for us was timing — we had invariably already eaten dinner by the time we stumbled upon the discounts, and could only look on with mild regret.

蒲燒鰻魚飯 Unagi Don — Grilled Eel Rice Bowl

日本鰻魚重/蒲燒鰻魚飯（unaju）或鰻魚蓋飯（unagi-don）可謂名副其實的美味佳餚。這道菜的精髓在於兩種特質在完美張力下的交融：一是外皮酥脆、內裡軟糯的鰻魚；二是層層塗刷、經炭火炙烤後呈現出甜美、鹹香與濃鬱焦糖風味的秘製醬汁（tare）。

有一天下午，我們經過一個攤位，看到剛串好的鰻魚正在炭火上炙烤；油脂滴落，煙霧升騰，那香氣足以讓人不由自主地停下腳步。那是我這趟旅途中見過的最賞心悅目的烹飪場景之一。

然而——這似乎已成了我們在京都的一種慣例——我們剛吃過東西，肚子飽飽的。看來這頓鰻魚飯只能留待下次了。

Japanese unaju or unagi don is one of those dishes with a reputation that fully deserves itself. The soul of the dish lies in the combination of two things working in perfect tension: eel that is crisp on the outside and yielding within, and a tare sauce — lacquered on during grilling, layer by layer — that is simultaneously sweet, savory, and deeply caramelized.

One afternoon we passed a stall where freshly skewered eel was laid over a charcoal fire, the fat dripping and smoking, the smell alone enough to stop you mid-stride. It was one of the more beautiful things I watched being cooked on the entire trip.

And yet — as seems to have become something of a pattern for us in Kyoto — we had just eaten. Full stomachs. The unagi will have to wait for next time.

有看沒有懂 I Know Every Word — But Have No Idea What It Means

對於懂中文的遊客來說，在日本旅行時的一大樂事，便是往往能根據標識和菜單上的漢字推測出其含義——畢竟日語中大量借用了漢字，且許多漢字的意義與中文相同或相近。然而，有時這套經驗也會徹底失靈：你盯著一塊字跡清晰的招牌，卻完全無法理解它究竟寫了什麼。

這事發生在日本京都的一條小巷裡，當時我看到了一塊告示牌，上面寫著：「迷惑駐車禁止」。

起初，解讀這些字感覺挺簡單的。「禁止」－很容易：就是「禁止」的意思。「駐車」——我猜是「停車」，結果猜對了。目前為止一切順利。

接著出現了「迷惑」這個詞。在中文裡，「迷惑」意指困惑、迷失方向或受人蒙蔽──即判斷力受阻或失去了方向感。於是，我把那個標誌解讀為類似「禁止『困惑式』停車」的意思——但這完全講不通。到底是什麼樣的停車才算「困惑式」停車呢？難道這是專門針對那些猶豫不決的司機的規定？還是說，日本的交通執法還蘊含著某種我不了解的哲學內涵？

只要簡單搜尋一下，這個謎題便迎刃而解。在日語中，「迷惑」意為「給人添麻煩」或「對他人的困擾」——這個概念在日本社會生活中至關重要，因此該詞頻頻出現，涵蓋了從輕微欠缺考慮的行為到嚴重擾亂公共秩序等各種情形。完整的標語「迷惑駐車禁止」意思很簡單，即「禁止造成困擾的停車行為」——也就是說，在公共或私人道路上，嚴禁任何阻礙交通、堵塞出入口或給鄰居帶來不便的停車行為。

這塊牌子上的提示完全合情合理。但是就算我盯著它看上一個小時，靠自己也絕對想不到這一點。

One of the quiet pleasures of traveling in Japan as a Chinese reader is that you can often make educated guesses at signs and menus — Japanese regularly borrow Chinese characters (kanji), and many share the same or similar meanings. But occasionally the system fails you completely, and you are left staring at a perfectly legible sign with absolutely no idea what it says.

This happened to me in a Kyoto alleyway, where I came across a notice that read: 迷惑駐車禁止.

Working through it felt straightforward at first. 禁止 (kinshi) — easy: "prohibited." 駐車 (chūsha) — I guessed "parking," which turned out to be correct. So far so good.

Then came 迷惑 (meiwaku). In Chinese, 迷惑 means to be confused, disoriented, or deceived — to have your judgment clouded, to lose your bearings. So I read the sign as something like "Confused Parking Prohibited" — which made absolutely no sense. What would confused parking even look like? Was this directed at particularly indecisive drivers? Was there a philosophical dimension to Japanese traffic enforcement I wasn't aware of?

A quick search solved the mystery. In Japanese, 迷惑 (meiwaku) means "causing trouble" or "being a nuisance to others" — a concept so central to Japanese social life that the word appears constantly, in contexts ranging from mildly inconsiderate behavior to serious public disruption. The full sign, 迷惑駐車禁止, simply means: "No nuisance parking" — no parking that blocks traffic, obstructs entrances, or inconveniences neighbors on public or private roads.

A perfectly sensible sign. I could have stared at it for an hour and never arrived there on my own.

出前- 外送服務 Demae — Japan's Original Food Delivery

我走路時有個習慣，喜歡東張西望、四處打量──無論是招牌、各種材質，還是倚靠在門口的物件。正因如此，我注意到了它：一輛自行車停在一家熱鬧的店面門前，後座上綁著一個看起來相當精美的木製塔狀物。出於好奇，我停下腳步，靠近細看。

原來那是復古的「外送箱」（okamochi）——這種標誌性的木製外送箱，曾是日本「出前」（demae）餐飲配送系統的核心。「出前」一詞意為「送到面前」，指的是將現做的熱食直接送達顧客家門口；這一服務理念雖看似極具現代感，其淵源卻可追溯至數百年之前。

「出前」（Demae，即外送服務）據信起源於 18 世紀的江戶時代中期，最初是專為富裕的大名（封建領主）提供的奢華服務；他們會先差遣僕人前往餐館點餐，安排送貨上門。隨著時間的推移，這項服務逐漸普及到了一般市民階級。在自行車尚未問世之前，被稱為「出前」的送餐員們肩扛扁擔，挑著平衡堆叠的籃子——籃中層層疊疊地放著盛有蕎麥麵的托盤——在江戶擁擠的街頭小跑穿行，只為確保食物送達時依然熱氣騰騰。20 世紀之交，自行車的出現徹底改變了這一行業：技藝嫻熟的送餐員如今可以單手騎行穿梭於城市之中，另一隻手則穩固托住搖搖欲墜的陶瓷碗塔，一次性就能為同一家辦公室送去數十份餐點。

促成這一切「外送箱」的木箱堪稱實用設計的典範。在其塔狀框架內，一個個可滑動的木製托盤分別承載著盛有拉麵、蕎麥麵或蓋飯的陶碗；各層結構互相獨立，確保在運送途中食物不會晃動溢出或傾倒。傳統的木箱多採用雪鬆或泡桐等輕質木材製作，這些木材具有天然隔熱性，無需借助現代材料即可保持熱食的溫度或冷食的清涼。送餐完畢後，送餐員會在當天晚些時候折返回收陶碗與托盤，從而完成整個服務循環——這不僅是一項物流配送工作，更體現了鄰裡間的信任與情誼。

「出前」（即外送服務）體系曾在日本城市那些人口稠密、適宜步行的街區蓬勃發展。對於居家辦公的受薪階級、無法離開生產線的工廠小老闆，或是某個雨天週日裡不想下廚的一家人來說，這項服務堪稱生活中的「生命線」。在京都街頭偶見一個復古的外送箱——即使它僅僅作為一件裝飾性的舊物存在——都會讓人靜靜地意識到：Uber Eats 並非外送服務的發明者；早在三百年前，日本就已經想到了。

I have a habit of looking at everything while I walk — shop signs, textures, objects propped in doorways. That is how I spotted it: a bicycle parked in front of a busy shopfront, carrying what looked like a handsome wooden tower strapped to the back. Curious, I stopped to look more closely.

It turned out to be a vintage okamochi (岡持ち) — the iconic wooden delivery box that was once the beating heart of Japan's demae food delivery system. The word demae (出前) means "to go in front of" — a reference to bringing freshly cooked food directly to the customer's door, a service that feels startlingly modern in concept and yet has roots stretching back centuries.

Demae is thought to have originated in the mid-Edo period, in the 1700s, initially as a luxury service for wealthy daimyō feudal lords, who would send servants ahead to order food from restaurants for home delivery. Over time it became accessible to ordinary townspeople. In those early days, before bicycles existed, the delivery men — known simply as demae — balanced towers of stacked soba trays in baskets hanging from poles on their shoulders, jogging through the crowded streets of Edo to get the food there while it was still hot. When bicycles arrived around the turn of the twentieth century, they transformed the trade: a skilled demae could now weave through the city one-handed, the other hand steadying a precarious column of ceramic bowls, delivering dozens of portions to a single office at once.

The okamochi box that made all of this possible is a small feat of practical design. Inside its tower-like frame, individual sliding wooden trays hold ceramic bowls of ramen, soba, or donburi, each level independent so that the contents don't slosh or tip during transit. Traditional boxes were made from lightweight woods — cedar or paulownia — which offered natural insulation, keeping hot food warm and cold food cool without any modern materials. After delivery, the demae would return later in the day to collect the ceramic bowls and trays, completing a loop of service that was as much about trust and neighborhood relationship as it was about logistics.

The demae system flourished in the dense, walkable neighborhoods of urban Japan. It was the lifeline for the salaryman working from home, the small factory owner who couldn't leave the shop floor, or the family on a rainy Sunday when no one felt like cooking. Seeing a vintage okamochi on a Kyoto street corner — even just as a decorative relic — was a quiet reminder that Uber Eats did not invent food delivery. Japan had it figured out three hundred years ago.

狸貓（日本貉）Tanuki

在京都各處──無論是鞍馬寺外、八坂塔腳下、八坂神社附近，或是狹窄巷弄間的店鋪門前──我不斷遇見同一個圓滾滾、咧嘴而笑的身影：那就是日本的「狸」（tanuki，即貉）。這些陶瓷製成的狸像守門人般佇立在門口，臉上掛著一副歡快而又自鳴得意的神情。

在日本民間傳說和流行文化中，狸貓雕像被視為能帶來商業好運、體現熱情好客並象徵繁榮昌盛的強力護身符。其魅力部分源自於一種諧音雙關：單字「tanuki」的發音與「ta wo nuku」（他を敪く）相同，意為「超越他人」或「在人群中脫穎而出」——正因如此，許多商店和餐廳的老闆會將它們擺放在入口處，以祈求好運並獲得競爭優勢。

在日本各地見到的那些陶瓷雕像，幾乎都是「信樂燒」（Shigaraki ware）製品；這種陶器產自滋賀縣甲賀市的信樂町，當地的製陶傳統位列日本「六大古窯」之一。這種造型圓潤、憨態可掬的雕像，最早由明治時代的陶藝家藤原鐵造（Fujiwara Tetsuzō）創作。 1951年，昭和天皇造訪信樂，看到沿途居民揮舞旗幟、列隊展示「狸貓」雕像迎接自己，深受感動，甚至為此即興賦詩一首，這些雕像也因此風靡全國，成為一種廣受歡迎的文化現象。

每尊雕像都體現了「八相緣起」（Hassō Engi）——即八種吉祥特質，分別由造像身體的不同部位或其配件來呈現：

笠（斗笠）－隨時做好準備；抵禦突如其來的厄運，保佑免於意外與災難。
目（大眼）－意味著機警與對周遭環境的細緻觀察，以便能做出明智的決策。
顏（笑臉）－熱情的款待與善意，建構持久的顧客關係，象徵生意興隆。
腹（大肚腩）－象徵經商時的膽識與沉穩果斷，以及遇事不慌、敢於行動的自信。
德利（清酒壺）－象徵美德、感恩與慷慨；以及衣食無憂的福氣。
通（帳本/通氣）－手持帳本或背著通氣袋，象徵為人講信用、建立穩固的人脈關係。代表著值得信賴、誠實守信，以及源自誠信經營的長期信賴。
碩大的陰囊（日文稱“金袋”，Kinbukuro）（錢袋）－是其最引人注目的特徵，也是最令西方訪客感到驚奇之處。這一形像源自於江戶時代金匠之間流傳的一個趣聞：僅需 4 克黃金，若用貉的陰囊皮包裹並反复捶打，便能延展覆蓋極大的面積——因此，這種陰囊袋便成了財富增長、家財萬貫以及「以小博大」能力的象徵。在講究禮儀的場合，人們有時會將其委婉地稱為「錢袋」。象徵財運亨通、金錢滾滾來。
尾（粗尾巴）－穩固的根基；那種最終通往持久成功的韌性與定力。象徵凡事都能有始有終、圓滿收場。

一旦你懂得如何解讀，店門口的每一尊狸貓雕像便化作了一種無聲的意向聲明——那是一份小小的陶瓷「宣言」，承載著店主將其置於門前時所寄託的種種祈望。

Across Kyoto — outside Kurama-dera, at the foot of Yasaka Pagoda, near Yasaka Shrine, tucked into shop fronts along narrow lanes — I kept encountering the same round, grinning figure: the tanuki, Japan's raccoon dog, rendered in ceramic and standing guard at doorways with an expression of cheerful self-satisfaction.

In Japanese folklore and popular culture, tanuki statues are considered powerful talismans of commercial good fortune, warm hospitality, and prosperity. Part of their appeal is a linguistic pun: the word tanuki is read as ta wo nuku (他を抜く), meaning "to surpass others" or "to stand out from the crowd" — which is precisely why shop and restaurant owners place them at their entrances, inviting luck and an edge over the competition.

The ceramic figurines you see throughout Japan are almost all Shigaraki ware, handcrafted in Shigaraki, a town in Koka City, Shiga Prefecture, whose pottery tradition is one of Japan's Six Ancient Kilns. The familiar round, friendly form was first created during the Meiji era by a potter named Tetsuzō Fujiwara, and the statues became a national phenomenon in 1951, when Emperor Shōwa visited Shigaraki and was so moved by townspeople lining the roads with flag-waving tanuki that he composed an imperial poem in their honor.

Each statue embodies the Hassō Engi (八相縁起) — eight auspicious traits, each carried by a different part of the figure's body or accessories:

Straw hat (Kasa) — always be prepared; protection from unexpected misfortune.
Big eyes — alertness and careful observation of one's surroundings, enabling wise decisions.
Friendly smile — warm hospitality and the goodwill that builds lasting customer relationships.
Big belly — boldness and calm decisiveness in business, the confidence to act without panic.
Sake bottle (Tokkuri) — virtue, gratitude, and generosity; the good fortune of never going without.
Ledger book (Daifukuchō) — trustworthiness, integrity, and the long-term confidence that comes from honest dealing.
Large scrotum (Kinbukuro) — the most eye-catching feature, and the one that surprises Western visitors most. Its origin lies in an Edo-period joke among goldsmiths: a mere 4 grams of gold, beaten using tanuki scrotal skin, could be stretched to cover an enormous area — and so the scrotal pouch became a symbol of financial expansion, wealth, and the ability to make much from little. In polite company it is sometimes described simply as a "money pouch."
Thick tail — a stable foundation; the resilience and steadiness that ultimately leads to lasting success.

Once you know what you are looking at, every tanuki at a shop entrance becomes a kind of quiet declaration of intent — a small ceramic manifesto of the hopes its owner placed in it when they set it by the door.