Yaki-imo. One of our snacks

Winter memories in Japan with Yaki-imo, when I was a child.
A faint jingle carried through the cold air — ya–ki–imo…
Somewhere down the street, a small truck rolled slowly between houses, smoke drifting from its tiny chimney.

My parents would step outside, exchange a few coins, and come back holding a wrapped potatoes with a few pieces of news paper.

Inside was a single sweet potato, roasted over hot stones for long hours.

The potato almost too hot to touch. When they broke it open, steam poured out, golden and sweet, like sugar and earth and smoky flavour all at once.

Years later, the sound has disappeared. The old yakiimo trucks rarely roam the city anymore.

When I visited Japan last year, I heard the jingle again by chance and followed it.

The seller wasn’t a farmer this time — just a retired man keeping the memory alive. I bought one anyway. When I opened the paper bag, the same golden steam rose, and for a moment, everything felt familiar again.

That memory followed me back to Vancouver.

I tried to recreate that taste with my forest approach. I placed sweet potatoes on a bed of stones and pine, letting them roast for hours. The air filled with that similar scent, naturally caramelized golden sweet potato.. Slowly, the skin began to blister, and the inside turned almost translusent golden yellow.

There’s nothing complicated about yakiimo, but so good.
You can try it at our secret dinner - Shosetsu, November 1st.

Reservation only, we will close the ticketing on 31st Oct. Tickets are here.