I’d been meaning to buy a new cutting board for months, but I couldn’t find a simple one with a right size and colour. Last weekend when we visited my uncle & aunt’s place in Gunma, my carpenter uncle casually asked me if I wanted a cutting board. I said yes, and he picked up a piece from the wood stack placed on their living room floor, and quickly sanded the rough edges for me in what seemed like a fraction of a second.
And voila, my new cutting board. At the moment, the kitchen is infused with a fresh woody scent of the mountains.