A 93-Year-Old Bento Box – A Journey Through Time 🍱✨
Some things in life carry stories within them—stories of the past, of people we’ve never met, and of moments long gone but never forgotten. Today, I want to share a special story, one that ties together history, family, and the simple joy of making a meal with love.
A Treasure from 1932
Tucked away in a corner of my home, carefully preserved, is a three-layer wooden bento box from 1932. She is 93 years old, the same age as my beloved Gramma Sachi.
The moment I hold this bento box in my hands, I feel an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. The smooth, worn texture of the wood, the delicate craftsmanship, the way the lids fit perfectly—each detail whispers of a time when things were made to last, when meals were prepared with thoughtfulness and care.
I can’t help but imagine all the meals this box has held over the years. Perhaps it accompanied someone on a long journey, carefully packed with homemade rice balls and pickled vegetables. Maybe it was used for a family picnic, spread out under the cherry blossoms, laughter filling the air. It might have been a daily companion, bringing comfort and nourishment to its owner.
What kind of person once carried this bento box? Were they someone like me, who finds joy in the simple act of preparing food? Did they open it each day with the same anticipation I feel when I unwrap a carefully packed meal?
As I think about all these possibilities, I realize that this bento box is more than just an object—it is a piece of history, a connection to the past, a bridge between generations.
My Gramma Sachi and the Meaning of a Bento
My Gramma Sachi is 93 years old, just like this bento box. Though we are miles apart, I often think of the meals she has made in her lifetime—the way she would carefully prepare each dish, making sure there was a balance of flavors, colors, and nutrients.
She always said that a bento wasn’t just about packing food—it was about expressing love and care.
“A good bento,” she told me once, “is one that makes the person who eats it feel warm inside. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just made with thoughtfulness.”
Even now, I can picture her hands skillfully rolling tamagoyaki, pressing rice into perfect little onigiri, slicing vegetables with precision. Every movement was done with care, as if she were weaving a story into each meal.
Thinking of her, I feel inspired. I decide to bring this bento box back to life, to fill it with the kind of meal that would make my grandmother proud.
Bringing the Bento Box to Life
I stand in my kitchen, preparing ingredients just as my grandmother once did.
I start with teriyaki chicken, its glaze shining under the kitchen light, filling the air with the sweet and savory aroma of soy sauce and mirin. It reminds me of the flavors from my childhood—the taste of home.
Next, I carefully roll tamagoyaki, layer by layer, just as I had watched my grandmother do so many times. It takes patience, but there is something meditative about it, a rhythm that feels natural.
For the side dishes, I choose simple, vibrant flavors:
🥒 Lightly pickled cucumbers, crisp and refreshing
🥗 Sesame-seasoned greens, full of earthy richness
🍙 A variation of onigiri, mixing rice with a touch of quinoa for added texture and nutrition
As I place each item into the bento box, I think about balance—not just in taste, but in color, in texture, in the way the food fits together like a small, edible masterpiece.
When I finally close the lid, I pause for a moment. This box, which has carried so many meals before, now holds one more.
A Meal That Connects Generations
As I sit down to eat, I feel something deeper than just hunger being satisfied. It is the feeling of connection—to my grandmother, to the hands that once carried this bento box, to the countless meals prepared with love over the years.
Food has a way of transcending time. It holds memories, carries traditions, and tells stories long after words have been forgotten.
Today, this 93-year-old bento box reminded me that food is not just about sustenance—it is about the love and history it carries within it. And in that moment, with my meal carefully packed in this wooden box from 1932, I felt as if I had traveled through time, sharing a meal with the past.
And that, I think, is the true magic of a bento. 🍱✨