Sometimes it takes a gentle cricket bat to the back of the head to realise that you have failed and that once you recover from the starburst shooting from inside your eyelids and your vision returns enough for you to distinguish between colours you must stagger to your feet and resolve the situation.
This particular baseball bat came in the guise of a relatively new friend asking where he might find reasonably priced Mexican chili sauce in Numazu. I was stunned. Doesn’t everyone go where I go to get such things? Had I not mentioned this in my blog as ‘the’ place to go to get decent sized condiments? Had I missed out a quintessential element to Numazu that makes life in this beautiful city so very livable? I had hadn’t I? Had I had, he would not have had to ask, had he?
The appearance of a universe of sparkly little pixels forming an endless data stream of ‘had’ rebounded off the inside of my eyelids. I needed to back out now, reboot and hope everything would be okay.
“The Green and Gold Shop,” I incredulously vomited out of my mouth as I came back to reality. My friend looked a little perplexed and a touch concerned(No doubt he sensed my reaction to his enquiry). To make up for lost time I began to rattle off the wonders that reside within the Green and Gold Shop. I mentioned the large tins of herbs and spice; the fact that they had an excellent selection of western style dried fruits; the multitude of jumbo sized sauces like tomato, BBQ, mustard, Dijon and many things in between; the bargain 1kg packs of grated cheese; the array of stock cubes and broth; the tinned fruit; molasses; the big packs of deep friable everything; peas, 1kg of ’em; frozen fish and meats; bulk packs of pasta and noodles; monster packs of seaweed that you could use for roofing supplies; a small shelf of local community veg; a point card system; and Mexican, bloody, chilli sauce.
My now reluctant friend was barely keeping up with the paces of my rail gun list when another friend interjected, “But the Green and Gold shop is not its real name is it?” My breath exploded from my lungs as my hyperactive bubble burst. I slumped back into my chair deflated.
My wife patiently took over explaining that the Green and Gold shop is what we call this little bastion of goodness because its signage is in green and bright yellow. Its actual name is “Komatsuya”. My wife explained that you can find it on the south side if you follow the road that commences at the western railway underpass and keep following it down to the end and if you take a right and walk another thirty meters then you will be there.
As my wife and my friends cleaned up my verbal melee I realized how remiss I was to not have written about this before and that I needed to share Komatsuya with you too.Scott Donald