Japan Day 4: The Story of Some Awesome Pudding

There is a pudding place near the intersection of Kawamarachi-dori and Shoji-dori in Kyoto, named Pastel. Brian and I had walked past it, and mentally filed it away for future reference. When the time came for dessert, Pastel was a few blocks away, and Brian said that there were any number of European-style cafes in Kyoto that served pudding. But I insisted - there was something DIFFERENT about this place. Later he would come to agree.

Pastel is a tiny, glass-enclosed room, in which two smiling female employees stand behind a counter filled with small cups of pudding. I've encountered a number of polite and kindly service people in Japan, but nobody has ever approached the sheer intensity of etiquette found at Pastel.

The employees smile at you non-stop, treating this instance of pudding consumption as if it were the most important thing in this world; as if so very much depended upon your eating a pudding right now.

Every moment in the negotiation of your transaction is an occasion for bowing. The Pastel employees bow as you enter, continue bowing as you order, and bow as they present your order with both hands.

I ordered a vanilla pudding, and was congratulated upon the infinite wisdom of this choice. Then came a serious moment in which the employee displayed a handwritten note, which read: "How long will it take you to get home?" I was unprepared for the seemingly irrelevant but serious nature of this question, but I answered honestly: ten minutes. She beamed (and bowed again), and proceeded to package my order.

She placed the pudding cup within a Tiffany-blue carton with a handle, wrapped the carton within a blue plastic bag, sealed the bag with tape, and then handed it to her associate. The associate then emerged from behind the counter and bowed, handing the package to me with both hands.

I took the package outside, seated myself, and opened it. Inside the carton was my pudding and a small package of refrigerant, which explained the nature of the earlier query about my journey home. Presumably the longer my journey, the more refrigerant is included.

As for the pudding itself: it's wonderful. The vanilla flavor is subtle, and the texture is the most delicate I've encountered in a pudding. And as you reach the bottom of the cup, there is a thin layer of flan caramel which seeps into the pudding, which only heightens the experience.

I'll be back to try new flavors.