Little Forest: Summer/Autumn (2014) Movie Script
1
"Little Forest" is divided into 4 parts - Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring. After the end credits of "Summer", "Autumn" follows. After that, the trailer of "Winter - Spring" will be shown. Please enjoy the continuity of the movies.
Komori (Little Forest) is a small settlement
in a village somewhere in the Tohoku region.
There aren't any stores here,
but if you have a little shopping to do,
there's a small farmer's co-op supermarket
and some other stores in the the village
center, where the town hall is.
The way there is mostly downhill,
so that takes about 30 minutes,
but I'm not too sure how
long the trip back takes.
During winter, you have to go
on foot because of the snow,
so that'll take you something
like a good hour and a half.
But it seems that most people
do their shopping at places like the big
suburban supermarket in a neighboring city.
When I decide to go there, it nearly
ends up taking the whole day.
When you look down from this ledge after
a long spell of rain finally clears up,
Komori looks like it's been
drenched in water vapor.
The water that been soaking in
the soil evaporates with fervor.
Komori is located at the
bottom of a mountain basin.
The vapor from the mountain pours in too.
And the humidity levels swell.
It creates an atmosphere that
clings to you like a wet shirt.
With humidity levels close to 100%, the
resistance in the air makes it feel like
if you put on fins, you
could swim through it.
Weeding?
If I don't move the air
around, they might get ill.
That's right. Just don't fall into the dew.
The life force of the weeds in
the fields becomes stronger.
From a mugwort root I dug up yesterday,
a new sprout had already
shuddered and come to life.
The green invaders.
The fields and roads are becoming
completely covered in weeds.
I mow 'em down and I yank 'em out, but...
No matter how many days you leave them
up to air, the laundry never dries.
Ah.
Mold forms on the wooden
ladle you use for jam.
That's it. Time to use the stove.
Stoves with smokestacks force the
moisture out with their flames,
so it dries out the rooms indoors.
It get pretty hot, but it must be
done in the battle against mold.
But the heat is nothing more
than a minor annoyance, so...
I take advantage of the
situation to make bread.
High heat and humidity are
well suited for fermentation.
The stove is bigger than my regular oven,
so I can bake loaves of bread
that are bigger than usual.
There aren't any families
that grow wheat in Komori.
The rainy season and the growing season
overlap, so the wheat can't dry out.
If the wheat can't dry
out, then it can't grow.
But we used to grow it.
Back in the days when we increased our rice
production, we'd even convert the fields to paddies.
I see.
So I use the flour that
I bought for the bread.
Flour and...
Because we can buy them at
wholesale for cheap around here,
all the bread and cakes are
made with "earth flour".
Yeast...
No matter how much you knead the earth
flour, unlike using "bread flour",
it is very difficult to get
it to end up as a thin film.
So rather than kneading it to no avail,
it seems much better to let it ferment for a while
after you mix all the ingredients together.
Let the dough rise slowly while
getting rid of the gas about twice.
This makes it much easier.
Then you smooth it out and when the yeast has fermented
enough, you light up a bunch of charcoal in the stove.
Bread bakes at about 200 degrees Celsius.
That's about the temperature in the
stove just before it gets out.
That's why you don't bake
stove bread in the winter.
Because it would be too cold.
The baking done in these
stoves isn't consistent.
But the parts where the heat is focused end
up turning out a lot tastier than normal.
And it dries out the room too.
Tada!
I should go and pick some mulberries
and have some bread as snack.
I'm not going to let a little
rainy weather get the best of me.
This has become a savannah of weeds.
The blades rotate when you
forcefully push it forward.
It's a device that harrows the
soil and loosens the weeds.
They're floating, floating.
The white roots messily float about.
But the grass around the
rice plants are still left,
so those must be taken care by hand.
So I swish my fingers among
the weeds to catch them.
Ugh, my shoulders and back starts to ache.
Ow!
On top of the damp and sweltering heat,
these annoying jerks around
won't leave me alone.
I hate horseflies.
Agh. I wish I could just wash
this whole feeling off me.
Guess I'll prepare some rice sours.
First, make some amazake.
Mixing koji into some rice gruel...
In this season, it's fine to
leave it at room temperature.
You can make it in a single night.
Mmm. Sweet.
Now you increase the bacteria
that encourage fermentation.
It's the same like with
yogurt or unprocessed sake.
I put in yeast for general
bread baking purposes.
Have to mix it well. Since it's warm, it will take
around half the day for it to be ready to drink.
The gas from the fermentation forms bubbles,
but it's so refreshing when you drink it.
Then you put it in the
fridge and let it cool down.
After cutting the grass, which makes you
feel like you've been in a sauna...
One more.
It's sweet and goes down easily, so there
should be hardly any left for long,
but occasionally, you'll make too much.
Oh.
Looks like I've boiled too many.
Hello!
Hey, it's me.
What? Anyway, I made way
too much rice sour.
Yeah, again.
Wanna come over for a drink?
Yeah, walk on over. Otherwise,
Kikko will find out.
Okay.
Yeah, see you.
He's two years my junior from
the branch school named Yuuta.
Coming.
Good evening.
Come in.
Looks like it's going to rain.
Yeah.
What do you think?
Wow, it smells great.
- It's a nice batch that you've made too much of.
- I know right.
- I'll do it. Sit down and wait.
- Okay.
- Cheers!
- Cheers!
What do you think?
It's good.
Good.
Humid nights with no moon
nor stars like these...
You've been working all day?
Yeah.
...are entwined with dampness.
It is a true darkness.
Huh?
There should be more water.
There's a leak.
I stand on the ridges and listen carefully.
Besides checking the sound
of the source of irrigation,
Ah! There's a mole hole.
In order to find the holes that
moles and other rodents make,
one must make sure to do a
good job cutting the grass.
There's a silverberry tree
growing beside my house.
Every year, the branches start to buckle from
the weight of the fruit when it's in season.
But I'd never thought to make jam
out of the berries until now.
I've been ignoring these
silverberries all all this time.
When they're still young,
they're bitter and sour.
They're hard to eat because
of the large seeds.
Let's go find other berries.
The fully ripe berries have lost all their
bitterness and are just sweet and gooey.
There were all kinds of other
tasty things around it.
So a lot of berries would go untouched, fall
off their branch, and rot in the ground.
Oh no~ Mom, clean this up.
So much for my brand new shoes.
I even used to think of them as annoying.
I went to the city and lived
with a man for a while.
There sure is a lot of fruit on there.
What kind is it?
It's a silverberry tree.
Silverberry?
Can you eat them?
You can eat them but they're bitter.
- Bitter?
- Nope, it's sweet.
Being a bumpkin from the mountains, physical
strength was all I prided myself on.
So it was frustrating to not be able
to reach something that he could.
You're just too short.
Here.
I'm going to picky my own.
- C'mon, just eat it.
- Pass.
Things turned sour with him.
So I went back to Komori.
And now,
it's silverberry season again.
So many berries falling to
the ground only to rot away.
It's all piled up and
will just go to waste.
That's just so sad.
Let's try making them into jam.
It takes time to take the seeds out.
Suddenly...
I realized that I was making the jam while thinking
as if I were going to let him eat it, like I used to.
Idiot...
I weigh the separated fruit
and add 60% of its weight
in sugar to start.
I didn't want to make it too sweet.
Still too sour.
Maybe I should go with 100%...
I wonder if it'll lose the silverberry
quality once I take all the gunk out.
Hmm... Maybe I better add
that sugar after all...
It boiled down before I got
to decide on anything.
You know it's boiled down if it forms
a loose ball when dropped in water.
It may seem loose, but jam hardens
up quite a bit once it cools.
The fully cooked jam should be an
opaque, muddied, dark pink color.
"If you over stir out of fear of
letting it burn, your jam discolors."
I think Mom said something like that.
Cooking's a mirror that reflects your mind.
Stay focused.
Wouldn't want to hurt yourself either.
I guess...
this is the color of my heart right now...
...huh?
From one strainer's worth of silverberries,
I got three small jars of jam.
I opened a jar the next
morning right off the bat.
Here goes nothing.
It became a rich very sour tasting
jam with a little bitterness.
Sour!
There's a frog living in your stomach.
That's the "frog in the stomach".
Oh.
Mom might only have meant to pull my leg,
I found out that it's actually
"the frog in the well",
just so recently.
Really?
A-yep.
So she tricked me...
Guess so...
It was a pretty big shock.
And then this other time, well, it's not
exactly that she deceived me but...
Around the time when the carrots,
celery, ginger and herbs are ready,
every year, we made "Worcestershire sauce".
I dice up some carrot, ginger,
pepper and celery leaves.
In a stainless steel pot, I add
water, dried konbu, cloves,
black peppercorns, mirin pickled
Sichuan peppercorns, bay leaves,
also sage, thyme,
and the sliced vegetables and
I boil them over medium heat.
Once it's reduced to about half its volume,
I add soy sauce, vinegar, mirin,
and granulated sugar, and
boil it for about an hour.
I taste it along the way,
throwing in some leftover jam,
and adding various spices...
I strain it using a cloth, put
it in a jar, and I'm done.
This is our "Worcestershire sauce".
To me, "Worcestershire sauce" meant
a homemade sauce made
with a soy sauce base.
- Pass me the Worcestershire sauce.
- Okay.
That's why when I was still a student,
Good afternoon.
Hello, welcome.
When I found the "Worcestershire
sauce" being sold in a store,
I was surprised at first.
I had no idea that it was
widely used throughout society.
I initially thought that we
were responsible for the trend.
Really?
Yup.
So it doesn't even have soy sauce in it?
Probably not.
I realized even much later that
our sauce was the impostor.
It's a completely different sauce
if it has a soy sauce taste.
It's not like I ever said I
invented it or anything.
Yeah, but still...
Besides, which tastes better? The
one they sell or the one we make?
You tell me.
It's pretty hard to get rid of habits
you've had since you were little.
I still accidentally
write "frog in the well"
with the character for "stomach".
It's the same that I use the store bought
"Worcestershire sauce" when I'm cooking.
But when it comes to using it directly
as a sauce, only our recipe will do.
Digging in.
Childhood experiences are important.
Mom used to mix lies with truth
whenever she felt like it back then.
There might be many more lies that
I just haven't found out yet.
Once you start doubting, it never ends.
So hot!
That might be the reason I don't feel right
about things unless I do them for myself.
I just can't trust words,
But I can believe in what
I feel with my body.
When it's autumn, I go and gather
hazelnuts along a mountain trail.
I roast the gathered nuts
and mash them until smooth.
Put them in a pot together
with cocoa powder, sugar,
a little oil, and then work it
until there's a nice glaze.
Mom told me it was called "nutera".
You spread (nuru) it on food
that's why it's called "nutera".
I had no reason to doubt Mom's
explanation about the name.
What?
Huh?
I didn't find out about the
brand name, "Nutella",
or the fact that it's a
"chocolate hazelnut spread",
was sold all around the world,
until I happened to see it in the district
supermarket a couple of years ago.
Mom, how did you ever find out about this?
I left but felt simply impressed.
Hm?
You wanna eat?
It's my favorite food whenever
I spread it in bread.
I live in an isolated house surrounded on all
sides by the stream, the forest, and the fields.
And for that reason, there is a never ending
line of visitors that come calling at night.
Moon moths.
Rhino beetles.
Fireflies...
Whoopsie.
There isn't that much water
in the streams nearby.
Cold!
Despite that, occasionally a trout from the
main current will find itself up here.
There are freshwater crabs as well.
Sometimes, they'll scuttle
across the fields.
And finally, mizu grows
abundantly in these streams.
You can eat them until autumn arrives.
After stripping it of its rind, you can boil the stem quickly and
make ohitashi (boiled greens in bonito flavored soy sauce) with it.
Or mix with tsukemono
(Japanese picked vegetables).
It's crunchy and has got a
bit of stickiness to it.
If you pound up the red part of the root with a kitchen knife and bring all
that stickiness out, you get what they call "mizutororo" (grated mizu).
You can flavor it with miso or
vinegar, soy sauce and mirin.
And enjoy it over warm rice.
Even when I don't have much of an appetite because
of the summer heat, I always want another bowl.
I eat it all the time, way
more than I eat grated yams.
The night...
The stream becomes a
pathway for the beasts.
What? What?
What? What's going on?
Must've been a bear.
Most likely.
It must've went to the back
of the tree to eat the plums.
I wonder if it got injured.
Yeah, it might've.
I'm surrounded on all sides by the
stream, the forest, and the fields.
And for that reason...
There are endless visitors that
come calling at the night.
I took on a one day job of moving the trout from the
hatchery to the fishing ponds at the camp grounds.
Yuuta worked together with me as well.
Wanna switch?
Steady now.
Say, Yuuta, why'd you come back to Komori?
I'm pretty sure you were saying that "school"
was just an excuse for you to get out of here.
Yeah, that was the plan.
That's why I found a regular
job out there and everything.
One, two...
Okay.
One, two...
Okay.
There's something different about the words that get
spoken here in Komori, and the ones over there.
And I'm not talking about
dialects and stuff.
I mean about the things that you've
actually experienced and done yourself.
And what you felt or thought
of as a result of them.
Those are the things that you can
responsibility talk about, right?
And people who can do that for all sorts
of things are the ones you respect.
They're the ones you can trust.
All those people who pretend they know everything,
even though they haven't actually done anything.
Clear, clear.
They act all high and mighty, just for
passing along something that some else made.
Clear. Okay, stop.
I just got sick of hearing those shallow
people spouting their empty words.
One, two...
- We're finally done.
- Good work.
Have some of our trout.
- Okay.
- Thank you.
Let's go.
I thought...
I didn't want to lead the kind of life
where I was making other
people do the killing first,
and then complaining about
the way they did it.
Wow!
Okay.
Chow time!
- It's done.
- Whoa.
Have some.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
Wow, looks delicious!
- How is it?
- Yeah.
It's great.
The roasted trout with salt is good,
but this trout miso is even better.
Isn't it? All I did was
chop it into chunks,
boil it, and add some miso.
It's good, right?
After I left her, it was the first time
I really started to respect
the people of Komori,
and my parents too.
I realized that they're living in a way where
they can speak words that have substance to them.
- Thanks.
- I'll see you around.
I think Yuuta
came back here so that he
could face his own life.
I came here to escape.
Tomatoes are robust.
Even seeds discarded in such a way
will grow sprouts the following year.
If you leave them alone, the side
branches will just keep on growing.
It's like a jungle with
how thick they grown in.
You have to trim all the side branches
that sprout to keep them neat and tidy.
When the sprouts that have been pruned are thrust into the
ground, they'll take root quickly and end up maturing.
They're so robust.
But on the other hand,
tomatoes are quite feeble.
It it rains continuously, their growing
points will turn brown quickly and curl up.
They'll stop growing, and
will wither up from there.
Aah...
This one's no good anymore.
In Komori, we get lots of rain.
That's why so many families use plastic
greenhouses for cultivating tomatoes.
Cool, chilled tomatoes for hot summer days.
Wow, they're so refreshing.
They're indispensable even for cooking.
I harvest the ripe tomatoes,
peel, then boil them.
I stuff the tomatoes in a jar with juice and all, then
boil them, making them sterile and ready to be stored.
Homemade whole tomatoes.
In the winter, I put them
in curry and spaghetti.
I also just refrigerate
and eat them as they are. They go
down smooth and they're so tasty.
I eat the smaller ones in one bite.
I can't imagine a life without tomatoes.
But still...
I cultivate my tomatoes outdoors.
On the occasional year when there
is not much rain, I get by,
but generally, they get sick,
and I can only manage to harvest a few.
You'll be fine if you
just sterilize the soil.
Why don't you get someone to lend you a
greenhouse they're not using for cheap.
A single person can't possibly need that
many, so why don't you just buy them?
That'll save you a bit of work too.
But I just can't seem to bear
that thought of doing that.
That's why I wanna find a way to grow them
well, even if they're in the open soil.
That's what I tell everyone at Komori.
But...
That's not the truth.
Once I built a greenhouse,
it sort of makes me feel like I
will stay in Komori forever.
Or that some decision will have
been made about doing that.
So I keep putting it off.
It's suddenly become an autumn sky.
Komori (Little Forest) is a small settlement
in a village somewhere in the Tohoku region.
There aren't any stores here,
but if you have a little shopping to do,
there's a small farmer's co-op supermarket
and some other stores in the the village
center, where the town hall is.
The way there is mostly downhill,
so that takes about 30 minutes,
but I'm not too sure how
long the trip back takes.
During winter, you have to go
on foot because of the snow,
so that'll take you something
like a good hour and a half.
But it seems that most people
do their shopping at places like the big
suburban supermarket in a neighboring city.
When I decide to go there, it nearly
ends up taking the whole day.
Mail delivery!
Coming!
Good morning.
Here are your electric and water bills.
Thank you very much.
Have you heard anything from your mother?
No, none at all.
I see. If you need any help, just ask.
Thank you very much.
Five years ago...
My mom left me alone and
suddenly left home.
On the way along the rice paddies,
I've begun to look for akebi
fruit for some reason.
Oh, there's some over there.
There's still green.
It all began when I started thinking about
the arrangements for the rice harvest.
You have to drain the water in the paddles
then make a ditch in between the stalks.
It will let the water flow easily.
If you don't make sure it's
thoroughly dry in advance,
it'll be muddy when you harvest the rice,
and you won't be able to get anything done.
So the sooner you do it, the better.
The leaves of the rice
gradually turn yellow.
The nutrients all get infused in the head of the
plant, as they grow ever so tastier in time.
The akebi fruits that were once a hard green,
also become rich, fat and stained with purple.
When it splits open like a wide
mouth, it's ready to be eaten.
Akebi wrap themselves around trees, so most of the time, the
fruit will be hanging from somewhere high off the ground.
Children will climb the trees to pick the fruit and bring
them back, but this makes for some scary memories.
- Are you okay?
- There's so many.
- Looks scary.
- No, it's not.
There's one over there!
But when we became adults...
- You'll slip!
- Whoops!
Here goes!
- Ah!
- Careful, careful, careful!
It's okay, it's okay.
- Whoops!
- Watch it, watch it!
Almost there. I'm good.
Careful, careful.
- Kikko.
- Hey, Gramps.
It's gonna get dark soon, so be careful.
We're heading home soon.
He gathered some akebi.
He's bringing them home for granny.
Oh, they get along so well.
Watch it, watch it!
I'll be alright!
Watch it! Careful! Be very careful!
I've gathered these for you.
What?
Oh. You sure brought many.
Yup.
I plant as many of the seeds as I can around my
house, and strive to increase their numbers.
I didn't chill it in the fridge or anything but
it's still nice and cool in my mouth. I wonder why?
It has a refined sweetness to it.
I guess this might be like
what Japanese sweets aim for.
- Come to think of it.
- Right?
I wonder what I should add to bring out the
best of the strong bitter taste of the skin.
- You want to eat the skin?
- Yeah.
Something sweet? Sour? Spicy?
Maybe all of the above?
Hm?
Okay, I'll cut these akebi
skins into bite-sized pieces.
Mixing cumin,
garlic, green onions,
curry powder,
tomato,
and finally akebi.
I saute them all together with soy sauce.
It's a sabuji style.
This might be good as a side dish or snack.
I stuff some with minced meat flavored
with regular old miso and fry them.
I made large portions and put them in
my packed lunch for rice harvesting.
Pursuit of the akebi fruit
is a competition between man, bird, and beast, and as
such, the supply tends to be exhausted quite quickly.
While on autumn mountains,
I occasionally happen across
ones that have started to wilt.
My rice soars through the sky twice.
The first time is when it gets planted.
The seedling bundles are thrown at equal intervals along the paddies. This
eliminates the extra work it would take to go back and forth to get seeds.
The second time is when
the rice gets harvested.
The rice that is harvested is gathered
into bundles, bound with a straw,
and placed in the ridges
between the paddies.
I always have walnut rice for lunch
when I take care of the harvest.
The sampling of this year's walnuts
is once again a difficult task.
Gathering the walnuts that have fallen
along the muddied sides of the roads
is a competition with the animals.
I bury the walnuts I find in
one of the corners of my yard.
When the skins decay and turn black, I
give them a good wash and clean them up.
If I place them inside nets to dry them out,
I can keep them preserved for years on end.
The husks of the walnuts in Komori
are thick and extremely hard.
So cracking them open takes an effort.
I roast them in a fry pan, then wrap
them in a towel and use a hammer.
I separate the fragments
of the husk carefully.
If any get left, I'll
chip my teeth on them.
Then I crush them into a paste with mortar.
Then I mix it into rice that I've washed.
I add sake and soy sauce
for flavor and cook it.
For every ten parts of rice,
I use two to three parts,
a bit less than one part of soy
sauce, and just a bit of sake.
It's fragrant, has a lot of
flavor, and is really good.
Time to eat.
My meal is made using rice
from the previous year.
And it was exactly one year ago
that I was out here just like this,
taking care of the harvest while eating walnut rice
made from what had been planted the year before that.
I stack the rice bundles on
every other one of the pillars.
Ichiko~!
Ah!
Kikko's grandmother.
Grapes and
melons.
Thank you.
You sure done a lot.
Yeah, somehow. I manage my own, anyways.
The city fold who took care of you sure will
be pleased if you send some out to them.
But there's nobody like that for me.
Hm?
Oh.
Say, when I wasn't around,
did you still plant the seeds, harvest the
rice, and gather the walnuts every year?
That's right.
We started doing it way
before you were even born.
Years and years and years ago.
Then I'll see you.
See you. Thank you.
Sure thing.
Okay, let's do it.
At the campground's fishing pond,
just before the off season, you can fish as
many trout as you want for a thousand yen.
I decided to experiment with
making them into nanbanzuka.
First, catch them.
Whoops.
Yes.
Gut then wash them.
Simmer some soup stock,
vinegar,
sugar,
soy sauce,
and chili peppers into a sauce.
Coat the fish in flour.
Deep fry them.
Soak them in the sauce.
You can eat it after one or two hours,
but it's also really good the next day.
The time when the trees changed colors,
candied chestnuts became popular.
Not enough. Lemme add a bit more.
The people responsible for the trend are Mr Shigeyuki from the
campgrounds and Yuuta, who is always hanging around there.
On one of their free days, they
decided to try making some,
Delicious.
- Hey, what're you guys doing?
- Oh hey, come in.
And the people just happened to drop by...
These are delicious.
- I know, right?
- Yeah.
I should make some myself.
What did you add in?
Just sugar.
I see, then I can also make this.
So delicious.
...or so it goes.
Good.
After I peel 'em, I added
lotsa sugar, then simmer 'em.
Even though I added lil drips
of soy sauce for taste,
thought to share and ask
what ya think of 'em.
- Wow, they look good.
- Have some, have some.
Okay.
Hmm. The sweetness is just right.
- Thanks for the food.
- Enjoy 'em.
Oh, so soft.
It ain't bitter at all, right?
Yeah, it's delicious.
Ah!
Hey! Take some break.
Try a bite from my newest
batch of candied chestnuts.
Let's have some tea.
- Come here, come on.
- Okay, okay.
I put some red wine in them this time.
Really? What did you use to
get rid of the bitter taste?
Baking soda.
- It smells good.
- Right?
Oh. You're here too, Kikko.
I heard the sound of the chainsaw,
so I thought I'd drop by.
My husband went to the mountain today.
Great timing. I'm getting
water boiling right now.
Is that...?
Yup, candied chestnuts.
I put some of husband's brandy in them.
He doesn't drink it, anyways.
I see.
Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Take a seat.
Ah, thanks, thanks. I'll
be taking a seat then.
I used red wine in mine. That's
probably why the color's different.
Good luck with the chainsaw then.
Thanks.
Come again when you tried something new.
I wonder what I should test next time.
- See you next time.
- Yeah, see you.
Bye bye.
I wonder what I should mix next time.
- Hmm...
- Right?
Say, should you try using soy sauce?
Hmm, what would that taste like?
Okay, good work today.
When picking chestnuts, you
have to watch out for bears.
With work boots on and tongs in hand,
you take them out of their burrs.
They harden, so you need to peel
off the outer skin quickly.
Lightly boiling older chestnuts
makes them easier to peel.
Leave it to soak overnight in water
with pearl ash or baking soda.
The next day, simmer it for
half an hour over a weak flame.
The liquid will be bitter
and completely black.
Replace the water and
simmer for half an hour.
Replace the water again and
simmer for another half an hour.
As you repeat this, the liquid should become
lighter and take on the color of wine.
Something like this, I guess?
Add an amount of sugar equal to sixty percent
of the weight of the chestnuts you've made.
Adding liquor just before you turn
off the heat gives delicious scent.
If you're going to preserve them, pour
them together with the syrup in a jar.
If you leave them in the syrup for two to three months, the sugar
will completely permeate them and they'll become all sticky.
That's the way I like mine.
The insides of the chestnuts feels
like biting a mochi pastry.
The wood from chestnut trees is generally quite easy to cut.
You can burn them at high temperatures and make good firewood.
From the firewood stove,
candied chestnuts go well with hot tea.
Chestnuts invite the cold to draw near.
Today, the wives from the neighborhood
gathered and are pleasantly discussing.
That sounds horrible.
What did your husband say?
He was at the entrance of the house
and he asked me to carry this and that.
He oughta at least bring
in the taters by himself!
Isn't that just 'cause you
haven't taught him proper?
You got no love.
I got some love,
so when I say, "Couldja take care of it, hubby?",
he'll say "Okey-dokey." and bring 'em in for me.
The dried potatoes are done. Have some.
- Ah! They look good.
- Looks delicious.
They smell good.
How'd the satsumaimo turn
out this year, Ichiko?
They were all thin. I guess it was because
the soil I planted it in was stiff.
For this year, I bought my seedlings
in June and planted them, but...
I heard that once the roots begin coming out from the seedlings,
stems will get longer and they won't grow any potatoes.
So I tried planting them temporarily and cutting off the
new sections that would grow and replanting those instead.
There are also people who say it's better to
plant the seedlings that have grown roots.
That's what I did last year, and
I ended up with a good haul.
Maybe I didn't have enough fertilizer.
Satsumaimo should grow
fine without fertilizer.
The soil here in Komori isn't
a good fit for satsumaimo.
It's too cold.
Even when we plant satsumaimo in our fields, they
never turn out tasty, so we just always buy ours.
Yeah, yeah.
- How are the cormels?
- Hm?
Cormels of Satoimo?
Ours didn't turn out too good.
Ours too.
Not enough rain these days.
For satoimo, it's basically not very
good unless you have a lot of water.
A lot of fertilizer is necessary too.
I plant the potatoes I harvested last year.
Even the potatoes that weren't preserved
well and are a little rotten are fine.
Once frost is no longer a worry,
plant them as early as possible.
Since it takes some time
before they'll begin to bud.
The leaves that wrap around like an umbrella
along the stem will stretch up and open.
When they begin to grow, tons
of small buds will appear.
Prune these steadily.
If you don't then the potatoes
won't grow very large.
Satsumaimo and satoimo are
both very weak to the cold.
If you don't take care of the harvest before
the frost fails, it could wipe them all up.
Storing the satsumaimo isn't
very effective when it's cold.
So once I dig them up, I turn them
all into hoshi-imo right away.
I boil water in a pot,
put a sieve on top, and
stem every one of them.
Peel the skins off and cut
them into narrow strips.
Then tie them up with straw
and let them dry out.
When I dry them out, it increases their
sweetness so they're really tasty.
It's also effective for preserving
them, so I can enjoy them all winter.
I boil 'em in a pressure
cooker till they're tender.
I then thin 'em out with
either cow's or soy milk.
How about seasonings?
- Consomme's enough.
- Consomme?
Yup. And it's real good to warm yourself.
When I dig up satoimo, I store them
by wrapping the clumps as they are,
with the soil still attached,
firmly in straw or newspaper.
When I eat them, I pluck the cormels
off of the roots and use them.
Satoimo go bad right away when it's cold.
If it's arid, they'll end
up completely dried out.
So I make doubly sure they're kept
in the warmest place in the house.
For my house, it's near the
chimney-stack of the stove.
The other day I was in a bit of a rush,
I peeled the skins off the satoimo and
just started simmering them right away.
The bubbles ended up boiling over the top
of the pot. I ruined the entire stew.
Oh my, that's no good at all.
With satoimo, if you don't let the water
boil over first, then you can't use them.
I know, but it's the same thing every year.
You remember it after you mess up, right?
Same with us. The old man will say, "You
did it again!" and give you a real earful.
I knew it, you got no love!
You keep sayin' that.
Mine'll always get all worried
'bout me, asking if I'm all right.
You're so lucky. You
two're always lovey-dovey.
I know it.
I live by myself, so once the cold gets quite harsh,
I find myself unable to leave the house much.
Just one day in an extreme cold wave
is enough to cause the veggies stowed away
in the house to go bad from the cold.
Thank you for having us.
- See you again.
- Thank you.
Ah, you've got plenty of firewood.
Must be a load off your mind.
But I always end up being stingy with it.
It ain't matter how much you got
and end up worrying 'bout it.
Yeah.
Well, we're off. Have a good night.
- See you again.
- Good night.
Looks delicious.
Watch your step.
Meow.
Meow.
Huh? Where'd it got off to?
Might as well boil some taters.
Aigamo ducklings are adorable.
A special thing about them are the little
spot on their heads making them cute.
The ones that are born here in Komori are so
used to people that you can even pick them up.
Their feathers are all fluffy.
So warm!
In June,
once the rice plants have grown higher than the
aigamo, they get set out into the paddies.
They eat the weeds and bugs that
begin to appear around the rice.
By swimming around, they increase the
oxygen that goes to the rice plants' roots,
and by clouding up the water a
bit, they obstruct the sunlight
and make it more difficult
to weeds to grow.
Their droppings even act as fertilizer.
That's the aigamo farming method.
The aigamo form a line and
waddle towards the ridges.
Aren't they cute?
That's why...
The people who raise them in Komori
don't really want to kill or hurt them.
You can see why.
You can see why, but...
I wonder sometimes if
they see me as a glutton.
Because for some reason, I'm always the one who gets
called when the time comes to slaughter the aigamo.
Boil some water.
Sharpen the kitchen knife.
Dunk the duck in boiling water.
This will loosen the skin and
make them easier to remove.
Removing the feathers is
the most difficult task.
If the quill of the feathers stays in,
it feels disgusting when it gets eaten.
That's why this needs to be done carefully.
Scorch the smaller feathers off.
Cleave each part into its own piece
by cutting along the backside.
Pull out the internal organs.
- Whoa.
- Good, good.
Here's the breast meat.
Good work.
Score the skin with a kitchen
knife and rub salt into it.
In a well heated heavy frying pan,
using no oil, put the skinned side on the
bottom and cook carefully with medium low fire.
It really does have a lot of fat,
so it's best to let it drip while
grilling the meat over a charcoal fire.
But if you're cooking at home,
the fat will gradually come out.
It will be the leftovers of
the duck while you cook.
Continue slowly, until the skin
takes on a deep golden brown.
After that, turn it over
and cook until desired.
This is the rich flavor of the aigamo meat.
The bones are made into soup stock by
slowly cooking them over a low flame.
The liver and heart are cooked into a spicy sauteed
dish using mirin, soy sauce, ginger and chili peppers.
The gizzards are sliced into sashimi.
It's refreshing with a
bit of ginger soy sauce.
When I killed my first aigamo,
I put one of them in a bag
and walked for a bit.
I remember that it felt just a little
heavier than I thought it would.
Time to eat!
Delicious.
Frosty mornings.
You can see white smoke making
it's way up all across Komori.
Like from the heating of the
shiitake mushroom farms.
The smoke from the kitchen furnace.
Or the smoke from making
rice hull charcoal.
I set a fire under the device that makes the charcoal
and make a mountain out of hulls from the rice.
Rice hull charcoal is
charcoal from the rice husks.
I spread them around the fields and
paddies and it improves the soil.
It's also very useful when sowing seeds.
For example, I plant varieties of carrots
in lines, sprinkle soil lightly over them.
And then cover it with rice hull charcoal.
It helps prevent the soil from stiffening
when it's hit by strong rains.
It also maintains the level of
moisture so it doesn't get too dry.
Carrots are part of the parsley family
and prefer high amounts of moisture.
The sprouts are important
when it comes to carrots.
You grow them so they all
spring up around densely.
Once they sprout, next would
be thinning them out.
The typical method would be
adding space from root to root.
But Mom thinks differently.
It's fine to take your
time to thin them out.
If you don't let the carrots compete a bit while they're
growing, they won't turn out well. After all...
Carrots are members of the
parsley family, right?
I've heard it a million times already.
I'm home!
Ah, great timing. Go pull
up some carrots for me.
- What?
- Don't complain.
Do it before you take off your shoes. I'm going
to make a stew so just pull the male ones.
Male ones?
The male roots of the
carrot are tough and hard,
so it's probably normal to start with
them when you're thinning the crop.
But Mom leaves them out.
They've got a lot of flavor to them,
so these are better for western stews.
Eve though that sounds plausible,
when I saw the carrot fields
which were full of weeds
and are just simply unkempt, I
realized it was just an excuse.
The plants were all tangled up, so it was
a huge task just to pull up a single one.
She's really so sloppy!
I'm not sloppy. I left the weeds to compete
in place of sprouts that didn't grow well.
It's farming using weeds!
Stop lying, you're just sloppy.
But the stew and the spinach
saute were good anyways.
Until I tried doing it myself,
I thought I knew how to make
my mom's sauteed greens.
I have a whole year round to have
all sorts of greens in the fields.
Mizuna that's crisp raw,
rosette bok choy in the winter,
malabor spinach that grows
even in the middle of summer,
mustard spinach that also
bugs love, and so on.
I pluck the greens around at the time,
wash them,
chop them,
saute them,
season them.
The process should be the same, and yet my
mother's and mine have different textures.
Even greens that were past
their harvest and overripe,
still tasted good when
my mother cooked them.
But when I make them,
it's somehow all stringy.
I'm sure she didn't parboil them.
It doesn't matter if I add ginger or not.
It doesn't matter if I add onions or not.
Even if flavor it with soy sauce,
or salt,
of if I add meat or not.
Hm... It taste fine but...
It's still all stringy.
One day, when I was peeling the fibers
off of celery, I realized what it was.
Ah.
When I peeled the fibers
off the greens too...
Oh.
There it goes, it's working.
It was spot on.
Vegetable saute again?
How about making something that take
a little effort? You're so dense.
Time to eat.
She did put real effort into it.
Maybe I was the one who was
being sloppy and dense.
I guess I should pluck some
spinach to use for breakfast.
Spinach that's had frost on it, gets
remarkably sweet and is really tasty.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
- I'll go leave the slip.
- Thank you very much.
A person from the electric company and another
from the gas company come once a month.
- Morning.
- Good morning.
And the mailman drops by sometimes too.
Mail delivery!
Coming!
Good morning.
- It sure is chilly.
- Yeah, it's getting cold.
I heard that it'll snow sometime at noon.
Oh.
It's all bills again?
There's one letter there.
See you then.
A letter from Mom came.
I wonder if Mom really
sees me as her own family.
Secret.
That's completely a secret.
Okay, I'll tell you the details
after you turn twenty.
That's super unfair.
I thought that was really impressive that
you've been giving it your all by yourself.
But in reality, that's just
running away, isn't it?
I just came back to Komori because
I can't face my problems.
Kikko.
Hm?
Look.
Whoa.
It inflated!
Here we go!
- Two, one...
- Okay, here's the cake.
These rolled omelets are good!
[ Winter / Spring ]
"Little Forest" is divided into 4 parts - Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring. After the end credits of "Summer", "Autumn" follows. After that, the trailer of "Winter - Spring" will be shown. Please enjoy the continuity of the movies.
Komori (Little Forest) is a small settlement
in a village somewhere in the Tohoku region.
There aren't any stores here,
but if you have a little shopping to do,
there's a small farmer's co-op supermarket
and some other stores in the the village
center, where the town hall is.
The way there is mostly downhill,
so that takes about 30 minutes,
but I'm not too sure how
long the trip back takes.
During winter, you have to go
on foot because of the snow,
so that'll take you something
like a good hour and a half.
But it seems that most people
do their shopping at places like the big
suburban supermarket in a neighboring city.
When I decide to go there, it nearly
ends up taking the whole day.
When you look down from this ledge after
a long spell of rain finally clears up,
Komori looks like it's been
drenched in water vapor.
The water that been soaking in
the soil evaporates with fervor.
Komori is located at the
bottom of a mountain basin.
The vapor from the mountain pours in too.
And the humidity levels swell.
It creates an atmosphere that
clings to you like a wet shirt.
With humidity levels close to 100%, the
resistance in the air makes it feel like
if you put on fins, you
could swim through it.
Weeding?
If I don't move the air
around, they might get ill.
That's right. Just don't fall into the dew.
The life force of the weeds in
the fields becomes stronger.
From a mugwort root I dug up yesterday,
a new sprout had already
shuddered and come to life.
The green invaders.
The fields and roads are becoming
completely covered in weeds.
I mow 'em down and I yank 'em out, but...
No matter how many days you leave them
up to air, the laundry never dries.
Ah.
Mold forms on the wooden
ladle you use for jam.
That's it. Time to use the stove.
Stoves with smokestacks force the
moisture out with their flames,
so it dries out the rooms indoors.
It get pretty hot, but it must be
done in the battle against mold.
But the heat is nothing more
than a minor annoyance, so...
I take advantage of the
situation to make bread.
High heat and humidity are
well suited for fermentation.
The stove is bigger than my regular oven,
so I can bake loaves of bread
that are bigger than usual.
There aren't any families
that grow wheat in Komori.
The rainy season and the growing season
overlap, so the wheat can't dry out.
If the wheat can't dry
out, then it can't grow.
But we used to grow it.
Back in the days when we increased our rice
production, we'd even convert the fields to paddies.
I see.
So I use the flour that
I bought for the bread.
Flour and...
Because we can buy them at
wholesale for cheap around here,
all the bread and cakes are
made with "earth flour".
Yeast...
No matter how much you knead the earth
flour, unlike using "bread flour",
it is very difficult to get
it to end up as a thin film.
So rather than kneading it to no avail,
it seems much better to let it ferment for a while
after you mix all the ingredients together.
Let the dough rise slowly while
getting rid of the gas about twice.
This makes it much easier.
Then you smooth it out and when the yeast has fermented
enough, you light up a bunch of charcoal in the stove.
Bread bakes at about 200 degrees Celsius.
That's about the temperature in the
stove just before it gets out.
That's why you don't bake
stove bread in the winter.
Because it would be too cold.
The baking done in these
stoves isn't consistent.
But the parts where the heat is focused end
up turning out a lot tastier than normal.
And it dries out the room too.
Tada!
I should go and pick some mulberries
and have some bread as snack.
I'm not going to let a little
rainy weather get the best of me.
This has become a savannah of weeds.
The blades rotate when you
forcefully push it forward.
It's a device that harrows the
soil and loosens the weeds.
They're floating, floating.
The white roots messily float about.
But the grass around the
rice plants are still left,
so those must be taken care by hand.
So I swish my fingers among
the weeds to catch them.
Ugh, my shoulders and back starts to ache.
Ow!
On top of the damp and sweltering heat,
these annoying jerks around
won't leave me alone.
I hate horseflies.
Agh. I wish I could just wash
this whole feeling off me.
Guess I'll prepare some rice sours.
First, make some amazake.
Mixing koji into some rice gruel...
In this season, it's fine to
leave it at room temperature.
You can make it in a single night.
Mmm. Sweet.
Now you increase the bacteria
that encourage fermentation.
It's the same like with
yogurt or unprocessed sake.
I put in yeast for general
bread baking purposes.
Have to mix it well. Since it's warm, it will take
around half the day for it to be ready to drink.
The gas from the fermentation forms bubbles,
but it's so refreshing when you drink it.
Then you put it in the
fridge and let it cool down.
After cutting the grass, which makes you
feel like you've been in a sauna...
One more.
It's sweet and goes down easily, so there
should be hardly any left for long,
but occasionally, you'll make too much.
Oh.
Looks like I've boiled too many.
Hello!
Hey, it's me.
What? Anyway, I made way
too much rice sour.
Yeah, again.
Wanna come over for a drink?
Yeah, walk on over. Otherwise,
Kikko will find out.
Okay.
Yeah, see you.
He's two years my junior from
the branch school named Yuuta.
Coming.
Good evening.
Come in.
Looks like it's going to rain.
Yeah.
What do you think?
Wow, it smells great.
- It's a nice batch that you've made too much of.
- I know right.
- I'll do it. Sit down and wait.
- Okay.
- Cheers!
- Cheers!
What do you think?
It's good.
Good.
Humid nights with no moon
nor stars like these...
You've been working all day?
Yeah.
...are entwined with dampness.
It is a true darkness.
Huh?
There should be more water.
There's a leak.
I stand on the ridges and listen carefully.
Besides checking the sound
of the source of irrigation,
Ah! There's a mole hole.
In order to find the holes that
moles and other rodents make,
one must make sure to do a
good job cutting the grass.
There's a silverberry tree
growing beside my house.
Every year, the branches start to buckle from
the weight of the fruit when it's in season.
But I'd never thought to make jam
out of the berries until now.
I've been ignoring these
silverberries all all this time.
When they're still young,
they're bitter and sour.
They're hard to eat because
of the large seeds.
Let's go find other berries.
The fully ripe berries have lost all their
bitterness and are just sweet and gooey.
There were all kinds of other
tasty things around it.
So a lot of berries would go untouched, fall
off their branch, and rot in the ground.
Oh no~ Mom, clean this up.
So much for my brand new shoes.
I even used to think of them as annoying.
I went to the city and lived
with a man for a while.
There sure is a lot of fruit on there.
What kind is it?
It's a silverberry tree.
Silverberry?
Can you eat them?
You can eat them but they're bitter.
- Bitter?
- Nope, it's sweet.
Being a bumpkin from the mountains, physical
strength was all I prided myself on.
So it was frustrating to not be able
to reach something that he could.
You're just too short.
Here.
I'm going to picky my own.
- C'mon, just eat it.
- Pass.
Things turned sour with him.
So I went back to Komori.
And now,
it's silverberry season again.
So many berries falling to
the ground only to rot away.
It's all piled up and
will just go to waste.
That's just so sad.
Let's try making them into jam.
It takes time to take the seeds out.
Suddenly...
I realized that I was making the jam while thinking
as if I were going to let him eat it, like I used to.
Idiot...
I weigh the separated fruit
and add 60% of its weight
in sugar to start.
I didn't want to make it too sweet.
Still too sour.
Maybe I should go with 100%...
I wonder if it'll lose the silverberry
quality once I take all the gunk out.
Hmm... Maybe I better add
that sugar after all...
It boiled down before I got
to decide on anything.
You know it's boiled down if it forms
a loose ball when dropped in water.
It may seem loose, but jam hardens
up quite a bit once it cools.
The fully cooked jam should be an
opaque, muddied, dark pink color.
"If you over stir out of fear of
letting it burn, your jam discolors."
I think Mom said something like that.
Cooking's a mirror that reflects your mind.
Stay focused.
Wouldn't want to hurt yourself either.
I guess...
this is the color of my heart right now...
...huh?
From one strainer's worth of silverberries,
I got three small jars of jam.
I opened a jar the next
morning right off the bat.
Here goes nothing.
It became a rich very sour tasting
jam with a little bitterness.
Sour!
There's a frog living in your stomach.
That's the "frog in the stomach".
Oh.
Mom might only have meant to pull my leg,
I found out that it's actually
"the frog in the well",
just so recently.
Really?
A-yep.
So she tricked me...
Guess so...
It was a pretty big shock.
And then this other time, well, it's not
exactly that she deceived me but...
Around the time when the carrots,
celery, ginger and herbs are ready,
every year, we made "Worcestershire sauce".
I dice up some carrot, ginger,
pepper and celery leaves.
In a stainless steel pot, I add
water, dried konbu, cloves,
black peppercorns, mirin pickled
Sichuan peppercorns, bay leaves,
also sage, thyme,
and the sliced vegetables and
I boil them over medium heat.
Once it's reduced to about half its volume,
I add soy sauce, vinegar, mirin,
and granulated sugar, and
boil it for about an hour.
I taste it along the way,
throwing in some leftover jam,
and adding various spices...
I strain it using a cloth, put
it in a jar, and I'm done.
This is our "Worcestershire sauce".
To me, "Worcestershire sauce" meant
a homemade sauce made
with a soy sauce base.
- Pass me the Worcestershire sauce.
- Okay.
That's why when I was still a student,
Good afternoon.
Hello, welcome.
When I found the "Worcestershire
sauce" being sold in a store,
I was surprised at first.
I had no idea that it was
widely used throughout society.
I initially thought that we
were responsible for the trend.
Really?
Yup.
So it doesn't even have soy sauce in it?
Probably not.
I realized even much later that
our sauce was the impostor.
It's a completely different sauce
if it has a soy sauce taste.
It's not like I ever said I
invented it or anything.
Yeah, but still...
Besides, which tastes better? The
one they sell or the one we make?
You tell me.
It's pretty hard to get rid of habits
you've had since you were little.
I still accidentally
write "frog in the well"
with the character for "stomach".
It's the same that I use the store bought
"Worcestershire sauce" when I'm cooking.
But when it comes to using it directly
as a sauce, only our recipe will do.
Digging in.
Childhood experiences are important.
Mom used to mix lies with truth
whenever she felt like it back then.
There might be many more lies that
I just haven't found out yet.
Once you start doubting, it never ends.
So hot!
That might be the reason I don't feel right
about things unless I do them for myself.
I just can't trust words,
But I can believe in what
I feel with my body.
When it's autumn, I go and gather
hazelnuts along a mountain trail.
I roast the gathered nuts
and mash them until smooth.
Put them in a pot together
with cocoa powder, sugar,
a little oil, and then work it
until there's a nice glaze.
Mom told me it was called "nutera".
You spread (nuru) it on food
that's why it's called "nutera".
I had no reason to doubt Mom's
explanation about the name.
What?
Huh?
I didn't find out about the
brand name, "Nutella",
or the fact that it's a
"chocolate hazelnut spread",
was sold all around the world,
until I happened to see it in the district
supermarket a couple of years ago.
Mom, how did you ever find out about this?
I left but felt simply impressed.
Hm?
You wanna eat?
It's my favorite food whenever
I spread it in bread.
I live in an isolated house surrounded on all
sides by the stream, the forest, and the fields.
And for that reason, there is a never ending
line of visitors that come calling at night.
Moon moths.
Rhino beetles.
Fireflies...
Whoopsie.
There isn't that much water
in the streams nearby.
Cold!
Despite that, occasionally a trout from the
main current will find itself up here.
There are freshwater crabs as well.
Sometimes, they'll scuttle
across the fields.
And finally, mizu grows
abundantly in these streams.
You can eat them until autumn arrives.
After stripping it of its rind, you can boil the stem quickly and
make ohitashi (boiled greens in bonito flavored soy sauce) with it.
Or mix with tsukemono
(Japanese picked vegetables).
It's crunchy and has got a
bit of stickiness to it.
If you pound up the red part of the root with a kitchen knife and bring all
that stickiness out, you get what they call "mizutororo" (grated mizu).
You can flavor it with miso or
vinegar, soy sauce and mirin.
And enjoy it over warm rice.
Even when I don't have much of an appetite because
of the summer heat, I always want another bowl.
I eat it all the time, way
more than I eat grated yams.
The night...
The stream becomes a
pathway for the beasts.
What? What?
What? What's going on?
Must've been a bear.
Most likely.
It must've went to the back
of the tree to eat the plums.
I wonder if it got injured.
Yeah, it might've.
I'm surrounded on all sides by the
stream, the forest, and the fields.
And for that reason...
There are endless visitors that
come calling at the night.
I took on a one day job of moving the trout from the
hatchery to the fishing ponds at the camp grounds.
Yuuta worked together with me as well.
Wanna switch?
Steady now.
Say, Yuuta, why'd you come back to Komori?
I'm pretty sure you were saying that "school"
was just an excuse for you to get out of here.
Yeah, that was the plan.
That's why I found a regular
job out there and everything.
One, two...
Okay.
One, two...
Okay.
There's something different about the words that get
spoken here in Komori, and the ones over there.
And I'm not talking about
dialects and stuff.
I mean about the things that you've
actually experienced and done yourself.
And what you felt or thought
of as a result of them.
Those are the things that you can
responsibility talk about, right?
And people who can do that for all sorts
of things are the ones you respect.
They're the ones you can trust.
All those people who pretend they know everything,
even though they haven't actually done anything.
Clear, clear.
They act all high and mighty, just for
passing along something that some else made.
Clear. Okay, stop.
I just got sick of hearing those shallow
people spouting their empty words.
One, two...
- We're finally done.
- Good work.
Have some of our trout.
- Okay.
- Thank you.
Let's go.
I thought...
I didn't want to lead the kind of life
where I was making other
people do the killing first,
and then complaining about
the way they did it.
Wow!
Okay.
Chow time!
- It's done.
- Whoa.
Have some.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
Wow, looks delicious!
- How is it?
- Yeah.
It's great.
The roasted trout with salt is good,
but this trout miso is even better.
Isn't it? All I did was
chop it into chunks,
boil it, and add some miso.
It's good, right?
After I left her, it was the first time
I really started to respect
the people of Komori,
and my parents too.
I realized that they're living in a way where
they can speak words that have substance to them.
- Thanks.
- I'll see you around.
I think Yuuta
came back here so that he
could face his own life.
I came here to escape.
Tomatoes are robust.
Even seeds discarded in such a way
will grow sprouts the following year.
If you leave them alone, the side
branches will just keep on growing.
It's like a jungle with
how thick they grown in.
You have to trim all the side branches
that sprout to keep them neat and tidy.
When the sprouts that have been pruned are thrust into the
ground, they'll take root quickly and end up maturing.
They're so robust.
But on the other hand,
tomatoes are quite feeble.
It it rains continuously, their growing
points will turn brown quickly and curl up.
They'll stop growing, and
will wither up from there.
Aah...
This one's no good anymore.
In Komori, we get lots of rain.
That's why so many families use plastic
greenhouses for cultivating tomatoes.
Cool, chilled tomatoes for hot summer days.
Wow, they're so refreshing.
They're indispensable even for cooking.
I harvest the ripe tomatoes,
peel, then boil them.
I stuff the tomatoes in a jar with juice and all, then
boil them, making them sterile and ready to be stored.
Homemade whole tomatoes.
In the winter, I put them
in curry and spaghetti.
I also just refrigerate
and eat them as they are. They go
down smooth and they're so tasty.
I eat the smaller ones in one bite.
I can't imagine a life without tomatoes.
But still...
I cultivate my tomatoes outdoors.
On the occasional year when there
is not much rain, I get by,
but generally, they get sick,
and I can only manage to harvest a few.
You'll be fine if you
just sterilize the soil.
Why don't you get someone to lend you a
greenhouse they're not using for cheap.
A single person can't possibly need that
many, so why don't you just buy them?
That'll save you a bit of work too.
But I just can't seem to bear
that thought of doing that.
That's why I wanna find a way to grow them
well, even if they're in the open soil.
That's what I tell everyone at Komori.
But...
That's not the truth.
Once I built a greenhouse,
it sort of makes me feel like I
will stay in Komori forever.
Or that some decision will have
been made about doing that.
So I keep putting it off.
It's suddenly become an autumn sky.
Komori (Little Forest) is a small settlement
in a village somewhere in the Tohoku region.
There aren't any stores here,
but if you have a little shopping to do,
there's a small farmer's co-op supermarket
and some other stores in the the village
center, where the town hall is.
The way there is mostly downhill,
so that takes about 30 minutes,
but I'm not too sure how
long the trip back takes.
During winter, you have to go
on foot because of the snow,
so that'll take you something
like a good hour and a half.
But it seems that most people
do their shopping at places like the big
suburban supermarket in a neighboring city.
When I decide to go there, it nearly
ends up taking the whole day.
Mail delivery!
Coming!
Good morning.
Here are your electric and water bills.
Thank you very much.
Have you heard anything from your mother?
No, none at all.
I see. If you need any help, just ask.
Thank you very much.
Five years ago...
My mom left me alone and
suddenly left home.
On the way along the rice paddies,
I've begun to look for akebi
fruit for some reason.
Oh, there's some over there.
There's still green.
It all began when I started thinking about
the arrangements for the rice harvest.
You have to drain the water in the paddles
then make a ditch in between the stalks.
It will let the water flow easily.
If you don't make sure it's
thoroughly dry in advance,
it'll be muddy when you harvest the rice,
and you won't be able to get anything done.
So the sooner you do it, the better.
The leaves of the rice
gradually turn yellow.
The nutrients all get infused in the head of the
plant, as they grow ever so tastier in time.
The akebi fruits that were once a hard green,
also become rich, fat and stained with purple.
When it splits open like a wide
mouth, it's ready to be eaten.
Akebi wrap themselves around trees, so most of the time, the
fruit will be hanging from somewhere high off the ground.
Children will climb the trees to pick the fruit and bring
them back, but this makes for some scary memories.
- Are you okay?
- There's so many.
- Looks scary.
- No, it's not.
There's one over there!
But when we became adults...
- You'll slip!
- Whoops!
Here goes!
- Ah!
- Careful, careful, careful!
It's okay, it's okay.
- Whoops!
- Watch it, watch it!
Almost there. I'm good.
Careful, careful.
- Kikko.
- Hey, Gramps.
It's gonna get dark soon, so be careful.
We're heading home soon.
He gathered some akebi.
He's bringing them home for granny.
Oh, they get along so well.
Watch it, watch it!
I'll be alright!
Watch it! Careful! Be very careful!
I've gathered these for you.
What?
Oh. You sure brought many.
Yup.
I plant as many of the seeds as I can around my
house, and strive to increase their numbers.
I didn't chill it in the fridge or anything but
it's still nice and cool in my mouth. I wonder why?
It has a refined sweetness to it.
I guess this might be like
what Japanese sweets aim for.
- Come to think of it.
- Right?
I wonder what I should add to bring out the
best of the strong bitter taste of the skin.
- You want to eat the skin?
- Yeah.
Something sweet? Sour? Spicy?
Maybe all of the above?
Hm?
Okay, I'll cut these akebi
skins into bite-sized pieces.
Mixing cumin,
garlic, green onions,
curry powder,
tomato,
and finally akebi.
I saute them all together with soy sauce.
It's a sabuji style.
This might be good as a side dish or snack.
I stuff some with minced meat flavored
with regular old miso and fry them.
I made large portions and put them in
my packed lunch for rice harvesting.
Pursuit of the akebi fruit
is a competition between man, bird, and beast, and as
such, the supply tends to be exhausted quite quickly.
While on autumn mountains,
I occasionally happen across
ones that have started to wilt.
My rice soars through the sky twice.
The first time is when it gets planted.
The seedling bundles are thrown at equal intervals along the paddies. This
eliminates the extra work it would take to go back and forth to get seeds.
The second time is when
the rice gets harvested.
The rice that is harvested is gathered
into bundles, bound with a straw,
and placed in the ridges
between the paddies.
I always have walnut rice for lunch
when I take care of the harvest.
The sampling of this year's walnuts
is once again a difficult task.
Gathering the walnuts that have fallen
along the muddied sides of the roads
is a competition with the animals.
I bury the walnuts I find in
one of the corners of my yard.
When the skins decay and turn black, I
give them a good wash and clean them up.
If I place them inside nets to dry them out,
I can keep them preserved for years on end.
The husks of the walnuts in Komori
are thick and extremely hard.
So cracking them open takes an effort.
I roast them in a fry pan, then wrap
them in a towel and use a hammer.
I separate the fragments
of the husk carefully.
If any get left, I'll
chip my teeth on them.
Then I crush them into a paste with mortar.
Then I mix it into rice that I've washed.
I add sake and soy sauce
for flavor and cook it.
For every ten parts of rice,
I use two to three parts,
a bit less than one part of soy
sauce, and just a bit of sake.
It's fragrant, has a lot of
flavor, and is really good.
Time to eat.
My meal is made using rice
from the previous year.
And it was exactly one year ago
that I was out here just like this,
taking care of the harvest while eating walnut rice
made from what had been planted the year before that.
I stack the rice bundles on
every other one of the pillars.
Ichiko~!
Ah!
Kikko's grandmother.
Grapes and
melons.
Thank you.
You sure done a lot.
Yeah, somehow. I manage my own, anyways.
The city fold who took care of you sure will
be pleased if you send some out to them.
But there's nobody like that for me.
Hm?
Oh.
Say, when I wasn't around,
did you still plant the seeds, harvest the
rice, and gather the walnuts every year?
That's right.
We started doing it way
before you were even born.
Years and years and years ago.
Then I'll see you.
See you. Thank you.
Sure thing.
Okay, let's do it.
At the campground's fishing pond,
just before the off season, you can fish as
many trout as you want for a thousand yen.
I decided to experiment with
making them into nanbanzuka.
First, catch them.
Whoops.
Yes.
Gut then wash them.
Simmer some soup stock,
vinegar,
sugar,
soy sauce,
and chili peppers into a sauce.
Coat the fish in flour.
Deep fry them.
Soak them in the sauce.
You can eat it after one or two hours,
but it's also really good the next day.
The time when the trees changed colors,
candied chestnuts became popular.
Not enough. Lemme add a bit more.
The people responsible for the trend are Mr Shigeyuki from the
campgrounds and Yuuta, who is always hanging around there.
On one of their free days, they
decided to try making some,
Delicious.
- Hey, what're you guys doing?
- Oh hey, come in.
And the people just happened to drop by...
These are delicious.
- I know, right?
- Yeah.
I should make some myself.
What did you add in?
Just sugar.
I see, then I can also make this.
So delicious.
...or so it goes.
Good.
After I peel 'em, I added
lotsa sugar, then simmer 'em.
Even though I added lil drips
of soy sauce for taste,
thought to share and ask
what ya think of 'em.
- Wow, they look good.
- Have some, have some.
Okay.
Hmm. The sweetness is just right.
- Thanks for the food.
- Enjoy 'em.
Oh, so soft.
It ain't bitter at all, right?
Yeah, it's delicious.
Ah!
Hey! Take some break.
Try a bite from my newest
batch of candied chestnuts.
Let's have some tea.
- Come here, come on.
- Okay, okay.
I put some red wine in them this time.
Really? What did you use to
get rid of the bitter taste?
Baking soda.
- It smells good.
- Right?
Oh. You're here too, Kikko.
I heard the sound of the chainsaw,
so I thought I'd drop by.
My husband went to the mountain today.
Great timing. I'm getting
water boiling right now.
Is that...?
Yup, candied chestnuts.
I put some of husband's brandy in them.
He doesn't drink it, anyways.
I see.
Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Take a seat.
Ah, thanks, thanks. I'll
be taking a seat then.
I used red wine in mine. That's
probably why the color's different.
Good luck with the chainsaw then.
Thanks.
Come again when you tried something new.
I wonder what I should test next time.
- See you next time.
- Yeah, see you.
Bye bye.
I wonder what I should mix next time.
- Hmm...
- Right?
Say, should you try using soy sauce?
Hmm, what would that taste like?
Okay, good work today.
When picking chestnuts, you
have to watch out for bears.
With work boots on and tongs in hand,
you take them out of their burrs.
They harden, so you need to peel
off the outer skin quickly.
Lightly boiling older chestnuts
makes them easier to peel.
Leave it to soak overnight in water
with pearl ash or baking soda.
The next day, simmer it for
half an hour over a weak flame.
The liquid will be bitter
and completely black.
Replace the water and
simmer for half an hour.
Replace the water again and
simmer for another half an hour.
As you repeat this, the liquid should become
lighter and take on the color of wine.
Something like this, I guess?
Add an amount of sugar equal to sixty percent
of the weight of the chestnuts you've made.
Adding liquor just before you turn
off the heat gives delicious scent.
If you're going to preserve them, pour
them together with the syrup in a jar.
If you leave them in the syrup for two to three months, the sugar
will completely permeate them and they'll become all sticky.
That's the way I like mine.
The insides of the chestnuts feels
like biting a mochi pastry.
The wood from chestnut trees is generally quite easy to cut.
You can burn them at high temperatures and make good firewood.
From the firewood stove,
candied chestnuts go well with hot tea.
Chestnuts invite the cold to draw near.
Today, the wives from the neighborhood
gathered and are pleasantly discussing.
That sounds horrible.
What did your husband say?
He was at the entrance of the house
and he asked me to carry this and that.
He oughta at least bring
in the taters by himself!
Isn't that just 'cause you
haven't taught him proper?
You got no love.
I got some love,
so when I say, "Couldja take care of it, hubby?",
he'll say "Okey-dokey." and bring 'em in for me.
The dried potatoes are done. Have some.
- Ah! They look good.
- Looks delicious.
They smell good.
How'd the satsumaimo turn
out this year, Ichiko?
They were all thin. I guess it was because
the soil I planted it in was stiff.
For this year, I bought my seedlings
in June and planted them, but...
I heard that once the roots begin coming out from the seedlings,
stems will get longer and they won't grow any potatoes.
So I tried planting them temporarily and cutting off the
new sections that would grow and replanting those instead.
There are also people who say it's better to
plant the seedlings that have grown roots.
That's what I did last year, and
I ended up with a good haul.
Maybe I didn't have enough fertilizer.
Satsumaimo should grow
fine without fertilizer.
The soil here in Komori isn't
a good fit for satsumaimo.
It's too cold.
Even when we plant satsumaimo in our fields, they
never turn out tasty, so we just always buy ours.
Yeah, yeah.
- How are the cormels?
- Hm?
Cormels of Satoimo?
Ours didn't turn out too good.
Ours too.
Not enough rain these days.
For satoimo, it's basically not very
good unless you have a lot of water.
A lot of fertilizer is necessary too.
I plant the potatoes I harvested last year.
Even the potatoes that weren't preserved
well and are a little rotten are fine.
Once frost is no longer a worry,
plant them as early as possible.
Since it takes some time
before they'll begin to bud.
The leaves that wrap around like an umbrella
along the stem will stretch up and open.
When they begin to grow, tons
of small buds will appear.
Prune these steadily.
If you don't then the potatoes
won't grow very large.
Satsumaimo and satoimo are
both very weak to the cold.
If you don't take care of the harvest before
the frost fails, it could wipe them all up.
Storing the satsumaimo isn't
very effective when it's cold.
So once I dig them up, I turn them
all into hoshi-imo right away.
I boil water in a pot,
put a sieve on top, and
stem every one of them.
Peel the skins off and cut
them into narrow strips.
Then tie them up with straw
and let them dry out.
When I dry them out, it increases their
sweetness so they're really tasty.
It's also effective for preserving
them, so I can enjoy them all winter.
I boil 'em in a pressure
cooker till they're tender.
I then thin 'em out with
either cow's or soy milk.
How about seasonings?
- Consomme's enough.
- Consomme?
Yup. And it's real good to warm yourself.
When I dig up satoimo, I store them
by wrapping the clumps as they are,
with the soil still attached,
firmly in straw or newspaper.
When I eat them, I pluck the cormels
off of the roots and use them.
Satoimo go bad right away when it's cold.
If it's arid, they'll end
up completely dried out.
So I make doubly sure they're kept
in the warmest place in the house.
For my house, it's near the
chimney-stack of the stove.
The other day I was in a bit of a rush,
I peeled the skins off the satoimo and
just started simmering them right away.
The bubbles ended up boiling over the top
of the pot. I ruined the entire stew.
Oh my, that's no good at all.
With satoimo, if you don't let the water
boil over first, then you can't use them.
I know, but it's the same thing every year.
You remember it after you mess up, right?
Same with us. The old man will say, "You
did it again!" and give you a real earful.
I knew it, you got no love!
You keep sayin' that.
Mine'll always get all worried
'bout me, asking if I'm all right.
You're so lucky. You
two're always lovey-dovey.
I know it.
I live by myself, so once the cold gets quite harsh,
I find myself unable to leave the house much.
Just one day in an extreme cold wave
is enough to cause the veggies stowed away
in the house to go bad from the cold.
Thank you for having us.
- See you again.
- Thank you.
Ah, you've got plenty of firewood.
Must be a load off your mind.
But I always end up being stingy with it.
It ain't matter how much you got
and end up worrying 'bout it.
Yeah.
Well, we're off. Have a good night.
- See you again.
- Good night.
Looks delicious.
Watch your step.
Meow.
Meow.
Huh? Where'd it got off to?
Might as well boil some taters.
Aigamo ducklings are adorable.
A special thing about them are the little
spot on their heads making them cute.
The ones that are born here in Komori are so
used to people that you can even pick them up.
Their feathers are all fluffy.
So warm!
In June,
once the rice plants have grown higher than the
aigamo, they get set out into the paddies.
They eat the weeds and bugs that
begin to appear around the rice.
By swimming around, they increase the
oxygen that goes to the rice plants' roots,
and by clouding up the water a
bit, they obstruct the sunlight
and make it more difficult
to weeds to grow.
Their droppings even act as fertilizer.
That's the aigamo farming method.
The aigamo form a line and
waddle towards the ridges.
Aren't they cute?
That's why...
The people who raise them in Komori
don't really want to kill or hurt them.
You can see why.
You can see why, but...
I wonder sometimes if
they see me as a glutton.
Because for some reason, I'm always the one who gets
called when the time comes to slaughter the aigamo.
Boil some water.
Sharpen the kitchen knife.
Dunk the duck in boiling water.
This will loosen the skin and
make them easier to remove.
Removing the feathers is
the most difficult task.
If the quill of the feathers stays in,
it feels disgusting when it gets eaten.
That's why this needs to be done carefully.
Scorch the smaller feathers off.
Cleave each part into its own piece
by cutting along the backside.
Pull out the internal organs.
- Whoa.
- Good, good.
Here's the breast meat.
Good work.
Score the skin with a kitchen
knife and rub salt into it.
In a well heated heavy frying pan,
using no oil, put the skinned side on the
bottom and cook carefully with medium low fire.
It really does have a lot of fat,
so it's best to let it drip while
grilling the meat over a charcoal fire.
But if you're cooking at home,
the fat will gradually come out.
It will be the leftovers of
the duck while you cook.
Continue slowly, until the skin
takes on a deep golden brown.
After that, turn it over
and cook until desired.
This is the rich flavor of the aigamo meat.
The bones are made into soup stock by
slowly cooking them over a low flame.
The liver and heart are cooked into a spicy sauteed
dish using mirin, soy sauce, ginger and chili peppers.
The gizzards are sliced into sashimi.
It's refreshing with a
bit of ginger soy sauce.
When I killed my first aigamo,
I put one of them in a bag
and walked for a bit.
I remember that it felt just a little
heavier than I thought it would.
Time to eat!
Delicious.
Frosty mornings.
You can see white smoke making
it's way up all across Komori.
Like from the heating of the
shiitake mushroom farms.
The smoke from the kitchen furnace.
Or the smoke from making
rice hull charcoal.
I set a fire under the device that makes the charcoal
and make a mountain out of hulls from the rice.
Rice hull charcoal is
charcoal from the rice husks.
I spread them around the fields and
paddies and it improves the soil.
It's also very useful when sowing seeds.
For example, I plant varieties of carrots
in lines, sprinkle soil lightly over them.
And then cover it with rice hull charcoal.
It helps prevent the soil from stiffening
when it's hit by strong rains.
It also maintains the level of
moisture so it doesn't get too dry.
Carrots are part of the parsley family
and prefer high amounts of moisture.
The sprouts are important
when it comes to carrots.
You grow them so they all
spring up around densely.
Once they sprout, next would
be thinning them out.
The typical method would be
adding space from root to root.
But Mom thinks differently.
It's fine to take your
time to thin them out.
If you don't let the carrots compete a bit while they're
growing, they won't turn out well. After all...
Carrots are members of the
parsley family, right?
I've heard it a million times already.
I'm home!
Ah, great timing. Go pull
up some carrots for me.
- What?
- Don't complain.
Do it before you take off your shoes. I'm going
to make a stew so just pull the male ones.
Male ones?
The male roots of the
carrot are tough and hard,
so it's probably normal to start with
them when you're thinning the crop.
But Mom leaves them out.
They've got a lot of flavor to them,
so these are better for western stews.
Eve though that sounds plausible,
when I saw the carrot fields
which were full of weeds
and are just simply unkempt, I
realized it was just an excuse.
The plants were all tangled up, so it was
a huge task just to pull up a single one.
She's really so sloppy!
I'm not sloppy. I left the weeds to compete
in place of sprouts that didn't grow well.
It's farming using weeds!
Stop lying, you're just sloppy.
But the stew and the spinach
saute were good anyways.
Until I tried doing it myself,
I thought I knew how to make
my mom's sauteed greens.
I have a whole year round to have
all sorts of greens in the fields.
Mizuna that's crisp raw,
rosette bok choy in the winter,
malabor spinach that grows
even in the middle of summer,
mustard spinach that also
bugs love, and so on.
I pluck the greens around at the time,
wash them,
chop them,
saute them,
season them.
The process should be the same, and yet my
mother's and mine have different textures.
Even greens that were past
their harvest and overripe,
still tasted good when
my mother cooked them.
But when I make them,
it's somehow all stringy.
I'm sure she didn't parboil them.
It doesn't matter if I add ginger or not.
It doesn't matter if I add onions or not.
Even if flavor it with soy sauce,
or salt,
of if I add meat or not.
Hm... It taste fine but...
It's still all stringy.
One day, when I was peeling the fibers
off of celery, I realized what it was.
Ah.
When I peeled the fibers
off the greens too...
Oh.
There it goes, it's working.
It was spot on.
Vegetable saute again?
How about making something that take
a little effort? You're so dense.
Time to eat.
She did put real effort into it.
Maybe I was the one who was
being sloppy and dense.
I guess I should pluck some
spinach to use for breakfast.
Spinach that's had frost on it, gets
remarkably sweet and is really tasty.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
- I'll go leave the slip.
- Thank you very much.
A person from the electric company and another
from the gas company come once a month.
- Morning.
- Good morning.
And the mailman drops by sometimes too.
Mail delivery!
Coming!
Good morning.
- It sure is chilly.
- Yeah, it's getting cold.
I heard that it'll snow sometime at noon.
Oh.
It's all bills again?
There's one letter there.
See you then.
A letter from Mom came.
I wonder if Mom really
sees me as her own family.
Secret.
That's completely a secret.
Okay, I'll tell you the details
after you turn twenty.
That's super unfair.
I thought that was really impressive that
you've been giving it your all by yourself.
But in reality, that's just
running away, isn't it?
I just came back to Komori because
I can't face my problems.
Kikko.
Hm?
Look.
Whoa.
It inflated!
Here we go!
- Two, one...
- Okay, here's the cake.
These rolled omelets are good!
[ Winter / Spring ]