Haruruha
My favorite food is something I rarely eat in my daily life.
It doesn't have a fancy name, nor is it a luxurious dish. Yet, precisely because I don't eat it often, it fulfills the condition of being "favorite" for me.
No matter how much you love something, if you keep eating the same flavor over and over, the excitement eventually fades. Expectation turns into habit, and joy becomes routine.
That's what happened to the natto rolls I once loved.
After I mentioned liking them, family and friends kindly started preparing natto rolls for me. Before I knew it, they were always there-in the refrigerator, on the dining table. That well-intentioned kindness, meant to be appreciated, gradually piled up. Quietly, I began wanting to distance myself from that taste.
I've never been one with strong likes or dislikes. That's precisely why my heart softens for things I eat after a long time.
I think it's only when we encounter a rarely tasted flavor that we can finally enjoy the very act of eating itself.
For me, a favorite food isn't something that's always there.
It's something that appears unexpectedly, just when I've almost forgotten about it.