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The Pan, the Pot, the Burning Fire I Have in Front of Me

Author: Rin Ishigaki

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Translated by  Hiroaki Sato

For a long time these things have always been placed in front of us women: a pan of a reasonable size suited to one's strength, a pot in which it's convenient for rice to begin to swell and shine, grain by grain, the heat of the fire inherited since the very beginning— in front of them there have always been mothers, grandmothers, and their mothers. What measures of love and sincerity they must have poured into these utensils— sometimes red carrots, sometimes black seaweed, sometimes crushed fish in the kitchen, always accurately for morning, noon, and evening, preparations have been made and in front of the preparations, in a row, there have always been some pairs of warm knees and hands. Ah without those persons waiting how could women have gone on cooking so happily? their unflagging care, so daily a service they became unconscious of it. Cooking was assigned oddly as the woman's role, but I don't think that was unfortunate; because of that, her knowledge and position in society may have lagged behind the times but it isn't too late: the things we have in front of us, the pan and the pot, and the burning fire, in front of these familiar utensils, let us also study government, economy, literature as sincerely as we cook potatoes and meat, not for vanity and promotion but so everyone may be served for mankind so everyone may work for love.