# ご当地グルメ　黒はんぺんと、静岡での四十年 ー　(英語版) Forty Years in Shizuoka — From White to Black Hanpen

When I moved to Shizuoka after getting married, I didn’t like black hanpen.

The first time I saw it at the supermarket, I thought, What is this strange thing?
It was dark, firm, and smelled strongly of fish.
It had none of the soft, fluffy texture of the white hanpen I had eaten for twenty-seven years.

But in Shizuoka, hanpen means black hanpen.
White hanpen simply wasn’t there.

Then we had two children.
I began thinking about nutrition and the cost of food.
Black hanpen was inexpensive and rich in calcium because it was made from whole fish.
It was easy to cook—grilled, fried, or added to lunch boxes.

I started using it out of necessity.
Before long, I found myself choosing it without hesitation.

For my children, hanpen meant black.
They grew up without knowing white hanpen at all.

And today, after forty years of living in Shizuoka,
my husband bought white hanpen for the first time.

It felt nostalgic.
This was the taste of my childhood.

Yet strangely, I didn’t really want to eat it.

White hanpen had become a taste of memory.
Black hanpen had become the taste of my life in Shizuoka.

Perhaps forty years is long enough
to quietly change even one’s tongue.



#Shizuoka
#BlackHanpen
#FoodMemories
#LifeInJapan
#LocalCulture
#FortyYears