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Helpful Review
Kappa Soup
India? Nope. Japan! A ghost story... Life jackets on, please.
In the khaki-colored sultriness of this hazy late afternoon, water drips from the leafy crowns of the ancient, nameless trees by the shore, slowly, languidly. The Kappa are cultured; they clarify the pond so that it doesn't stink at all. They have almost lifelike recreated the musty scent of their habitat in the large laboratory in the Yôkai capital, decades ago. This allowed them to develop a room-uh, pond fragrance that scents their lakes this year without them actually smelling like rotten mud; old Kappa from 900 years ago would have wrinkled their noses at that.
And would have cursed terribly!
On the shore, a few young ghost hunters are camping. Real ones. Those with special cameras instead of traps like in that silly movie. One swears he can already smell the water spirits.
Unimpressed by the Kappa's roaring and howling, which comes to the surface as a distinct gurgling, a coffee is now being brewed; it burns a little, maybe the sugar should have been stirred in afterward, but whatever, the main thing is to look cool while taking a coffee break by the shore of a Kappa pond. What else smells umami?
On the lightweight double swivel grill from the hyped outdoor store hangs not only the coffee pot, but also leek cream soup is simmering, seasoned with creamy fats and, ahem, herbs. Here we go! The one with the trendy jasmine perfume pulls out caramel toffees to lure them in. The expensive ones, with chestnut cream. Smartphones are raised, digital cameras adjusted. Bubbles rise. The first Kappa down there flares its nostrils -
In the khaki-colored sultriness of this hazy late afternoon, water drips from the leafy crowns of the ancient, nameless trees by the shore, slowly, languidly. The Kappa are cultured; they clarify the pond so that it doesn't stink at all. They have almost lifelike recreated the musty scent of their habitat in the large laboratory in the Yôkai capital, decades ago. This allowed them to develop a room-uh, pond fragrance that scents their lakes this year without them actually smelling like rotten mud; old Kappa from 900 years ago would have wrinkled their noses at that.
And would have cursed terribly!
On the shore, a few young ghost hunters are camping. Real ones. Those with special cameras instead of traps like in that silly movie. One swears he can already smell the water spirits.
Unimpressed by the Kappa's roaring and howling, which comes to the surface as a distinct gurgling, a coffee is now being brewed; it burns a little, maybe the sugar should have been stirred in afterward, but whatever, the main thing is to look cool while taking a coffee break by the shore of a Kappa pond. What else smells umami?
On the lightweight double swivel grill from the hyped outdoor store hangs not only the coffee pot, but also leek cream soup is simmering, seasoned with creamy fats and, ahem, herbs. Here we go! The one with the trendy jasmine perfume pulls out caramel toffees to lure them in. The expensive ones, with chestnut cream. Smartphones are raised, digital cameras adjusted. Bubbles rise. The first Kappa down there flares its nostrils -
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12 Comments
Best, Karsten 🫶