The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,12

and this is grated daikon, a sort of radish, which you mix with the soy sauce to make a dipping sauce. Try it.’

She fumbled with her chopsticks and almost sent the little scallop flying.

‘I’m not very good with these.’

Gabe smiled. ‘It takes a while to master them. No … not that like that. Here.’

He took the chopsticks from her hand and took it in his, his thumb brushing the tender skin on her palm. Intimate and unexpected, Fiona felt a rush of heat at the sensitive touch. She deliberately avoided looking at him and kept a fixed gaze on her fingers.

‘Relax,’ he said in a soothing voice which made her do anything but. It was just sensitive skin, that was all. Slightly ticklish. She straightened her back and concentrated on what he was saying.

‘Right.’ With his hand covering hers, he repositioned the top chopstick between her thumb and index and middle finger. ‘Hold it like a pen but two thirds of the way up rather than down at the bottom. Now anchor the second one on your ring finger.’

Desperate to shake off his hand and stop the ridiculous awareness of him buzzing through her system, she moved her fingers and promptly dropped the lower chopstick. She blushed. Clumsy as ever.

‘Have another go. It takes a while to master and luckily Japanese culture is all about enjoyment of food which means they don’t get hung up on table manners.’ He gave her an encouraging smile but it didn’t stop her worrying about being a complete klutz.

‘That’s just as well, otherwise I might starve.’

‘Not on my watch.’ With a quick, fluid movement he scooped up one of the scallops and held it in front of her mouth. Obediently she opened up and took the dainty morsel, groaning as the flavours hit her tongue.

‘Oh my goodness, that is … mmm.’ The amazing taste distracted her from the thought that being fed by Gabe was a little uncomfortable. A bit too up close and personal. The outside of the batter was so crisp and light while the scallop inside was tender and fleshy with a lovely, slightly sweet flavour. ‘That’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I didn’t think I liked scallops. Aren’t they sometimes a bit chewy?’

In the meantime, Gabe had taken one himself. ‘Not if they’re cooked to perfection, like this. Now try one with the grated daikon and soy sauce. Just mix the two and then dip.’

She managed to catch a scallop after chasing it around the plate; she discovered, greed was a great incentive to improve a person’s skills. Putting a mouthful between her lips, she found that the addition of salty soy and the fresh sharpness of the radish created an amazing burst of flavour in her mouth and she let out another involuntarily moan.

By this time, the chef had dished up a small plate of prawns, which were wonderfully juicy and tender and were definitely the best prawns she’d ever eaten. This was followed by the delicate fillet of fish encased in its light, crisp case, the textures complimenting each other perfectly. Over the next fifteen minutes they worked their way through vegetables which had just the right amount of crunch, melt-in-the-mouth squid and several types of mushrooms with meaty textures and rich juices.

‘That was absolutely delicious,’ sighed Fiona as she polished off the last mouthful of what had turned out to be lotus root. She felt comfortably full but not stuffed as if she’d eaten exactly the right amount. ‘I thought it would be sushi everywhere.’

‘That’s a common misconception. Sushi is actually more for special occasions. A bit like we would have roast beef. And there’s a lot more to sushi than those plastic trays in the lunch section of supermarkets in London.’ As Gabe spoke, she was already busy thinking about writing a blog post describing her first experience of Japanese food.

***

Gabe guided her out of the restaurant and up the street which became noticeably busier as they neared the hub of Shibuya and the famous crossing.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Fiona, and Gabe smiled. It was the Tokyo of so many pictures, the huge crossing of two-lane highways intersected by a series of zebra crossings surrounded by huge neon billboards flashing with adverts and brand names. It was brash, vibrant, bold and a little bit mind blowing, even to someone who’d seen it a hundred times before. The bemused shock on Fiona’s face as she stared up at the electronic boards had him reaching for the