The tidal current running around Shimotsui in Kurashiki is fast, even by the standards of the Inland Sea. Octopus raised in that water develops a particular resistance against the tooth, and the flesh comes out firm rather than soft and yielding.

Cut into chunks and cooked together with the rice, that becomes takomeshi. The origin given is the simplest possible one: fishermen ate the octopus they had caught, on the boat, with rice.

When the lid comes off, what rises is the smell of the shore. It is not subtle and it is the reason the dish exists in this form rather than as something more composed.

Saying takomeshi does not actually tell you very much, though. The ingredients, the seasoning, and whatever goes on top all vary considerably from one shop to the next, and some places serve it with an entire tentacle laid across the bowl, uncut and unmistakable. In Kurashiki it is everyday food, made at home and sold in restaurants without any sense of occasion. I have now heard the same argument about fast water three times, applied to crab, to wakame, and now to octopus. Something that gets pushed around constantly by moving water ends up with something in it worth biting into.