Since we were on the topic of memories of Japan (and more accurately, because I need a reason to make sure this draft doesn’t go to waste- leaving the #SweetToothTokyo tour incomplete), heres to more Japan. It’s fitting that after my recent trip to the Peach State, we talk a bit about peaches.

The Sweet Tooth Tokyo Tour was a short lived one, as was its success in delivering me to the Sweets Heaven that Kantaro knew. The second site visited was Libre of Shinjuku, not far at all from the JR Shinjuku Station. I had found it, with great relief, spotting it from across the street.

I  made my way down the stairs into what seemed to be something of a fruit paradise. If you’ve ever gone to the market, especially a typical grocery store in Japan, you would know the great value and expense of purchasing fruit. A standard sized melon, sold for 3000 yen (nearly $27 USD) is not uncommon. So to see melons and grapes and berries and mangoes overflowing in haughty abundance was almost overwhelming. I sat down to place my order and wrestled briefly deciding my dessert- explore the menu guided by mood and emotion or continue as planned, in a accordance with Kantaro’s experience. I looked to my left and noticed a woman digging into her peach parfait- like Kantaro’s- while sliding her finger down the screen of her phone. It was decided.

To be fair, it was late, I was tired, and I had a train to catch. But all things considered, I imagine dessert to have calmative powers, or  responsibility at least, to relax you and make you get lost in time. But not this time. It felt like eternity waiting for my parfait in what didn’t seem to be a crowded dining room. I’m supposed to be spending this paragraph divulging into the great painstaking efforts and attention to detail that the chefs spend freshly paring the luscious white peaches plucked from the finest trees growing in the fields of the prestigious Jushi Pi-chi Machi Prefecture that doesn’t exist, but I’m not sure I cared at the moment.

Parfait in hand, my spoon dug in like a predator ready for its prey. The peaches were falling out the cup! A beautifully smooth texture, raining juice.  But it wasn’t sweet, at least not in contrast with the ice cream. I’d go on, but there wasn’t much more to say. Besides, I had a train to catch.

Would I do it again? Give it another try? I’m in no rush, especially not from this far away. But the #SweetToothCraving is still itching. I’ll tell you about the next bite soon. I promise.