Traditional Japanese cuisine—washoku—has been registered as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity since 2013. For both foreign residents and tourists, it is one of the highlights of Japan.

Seasonality plays a pivotal role in the choice of ingredients and even the tableware in washoku. Rice, a staple part of Japanese cuisine, is naturally also included in every washoku meal. Japanese rice is praised for its soft, springy texture and expert preparation, and as a low-fat carbohydrate providing energy throughout the day, many consider it the secret to Japanese longevity.

Washoku meals often come in the form of a set meal, usually described by the phrase, ichiju sansai—one soup and three sides. Notably, the word rice isn’t even included in that phrase, implying that it is such a staple of the meal, it doesn’t even need to be mentioned. Although set meals can be eaten throughout the day, often overlooked by visitors is the humble traditional Japanese breakfast: wachoshoku (“Japanese morning meal”).

Compared to Western breakfasts, traditional Japanese breakfasts emphasize freshness, health and balance, but not at the sacrifice of any quality.  They are filling but not heavy, and foreigners who try traditional Japanese breakfasts often report feeling satisfied and energized throughout the day. Metropolis writers have crisscrossed Honshu sampling some of the best wachoshoku on offer.

Yusuke Kawai grew up just outside of Kobe in a “new town,” the Japanese term for a planned community. Kawai, who records music under the name tofubeats, describes his government-developed hometown: “There’s no city center and no local shopping streets like in other towns. Every station has similarly designed shopping malls, just with different names.” They were ideal residential zones, with big-city vice swapped out for big-box chains and department stores. Kawai recalls the only cultural center of any sort being a music shop, rental store Tsutaya and second-hand shop Hard-Off.

“The new town was made from nothing, and so we didn’t really have any traditional festivals. To me, it was vacant. The new town didn’t really have its own uniqueness in Japan.”

Yet this space helped develop Kawai’s creativity and shaped his approach to music. As a teenager, he spent most of his time absorbing the CDs available at Tsutaya and used any other free time to hunt down new sounds on the internet. “I tried to find anything interesting around me, but there were always only ordinary things. And so I started to think that I have to remix what I had to make something new.” Kawai spliced up mainstream J-pop sounds and YouTube discoveries into a fidgety style, which helped him connect with like-minded people on message boards.

Whether it’s instant ramen, selfie sticks or Walkmans, Japan provides innovative, aesthetically-pleasing solutions to everyday problems. But how do you stylishly transport groceries from the market to home, bottles of booze to a barbecue, clothes to the sento, or bento boxes to a picnic? Use a furoshiki.

Furoshiki are rectangular pieces of decorative fabric made from silk, cotton or synthetic fibers that have been used for wrapping goods in Japan for at least 1200 years, since the Nara Period. Until the onset of paper and plastic bags in the 1960s, they were an indispensable part of daily Japanese life. Furoshiki can be distinguished from their fraternal twin the tenugui—another colorfully-dyed and-patterned Japanese cloth—by the difference in use. While both may be used for wrapping, tenugui have typically been used for other instances, such as mopping sweaty brows, as washcloths, and as decorations.

There are around 10 different sizes of furoshiki, each with different applications and a myriad of wrapping techniques. When it comes to wrapping common foods, 45 to 50 cm is recommended. Other uses fare better with larger sizes. For bento boxes, 68 to 70 cm is best, and 90 cm for wrapping a bottle of booze (larger perhaps if you are kind enough to be gifting a magnum of wine or an isshobin of sake).