Once in a while when your traveling you come across something really incredible, something that just makes all the exhaustion, money and stress really worth it. Today, I made such a discovery. It happened at a relatively simple moment while ambling downtown Hirikata. I was wandering through a chapters-indigo type store wishing I could read a single sign, yet regretting many of North Americas more popular culture exports. This is where I came upon the first accurately named place I have found yet. It was inauspicious as any other basement grocery store, yet the sign that displayed its name didn't have the usual Japanese products arranged elegantly to pull people in. Instead it showed imported Italian olive oil and balsamic. After being drawn down to it I found the golden prize. 

First of all, don't get me wrong, I love foreign food. When I go to a country, more than anything I feel one should always go for the cow's tongue instead of french fries and push the culinary boundaries dictated by culture, but when a nations most popular dish is breaded cutlet, some branching out may be called for. But there comes a point of eating enough pickled and raw foods that the true cravings break through.

Imagine being a Japanese person in Nebraska. All you want is some decent sushi, tempura and maybe some pickled radish, but the closest thing thing to fish you can find is some deep fried concoction served with oily piece of potato. It doesn't take long to get worn down. It took me about two weeks to realize my complete and utter love for blue cheese, kobassa, fresh crusty breads and cereal not coated in sugar. 

It was finally at the said supermarket accurately named "Lucky" that I managed to score some of these beauties. Though true kobassa has yet to be discovered I'm now eating Danish blue, french baguettes and british muesli compliments of Lucky.