The “Asahi” mark hangs from a roof. This is the Asahiza, an old theater. Listen, then, to the story of the long-lost age of “Miketsukuni,” and the dawn of the Mackerel Road.

Once upon a time, a man called Kashiwade-no-Omi governed this land. Written with the character for “serving tray,” his was a name full of culinary portent. In fact, Kashiwade was in charge of managing the Imperial Palace food larders and furnishing them with salt.

Because Japan is an island nation, its salt wasn’t made from rock salt, but from seawater after it had been boiled off. With its large-scale earthenware, Wakasa mass-produced more salt than anywhere else. Even now you can walk barefoot on the beach and step on sharp, painful little bits, only to find shards of those earthenware vessels. It’s not a rare occurrence; that is how much the salt business was booming.

The world may be salty about sodium nowadays, but long ago salt was a highly precious mineral source. People couldn’t live without the stuff. Wakasa played a crucial role as the “Miketsukuni,” or honored food production region, which provided the capital with the salt it needed to sustain its cuisine. And this is how Kashiwade-no-Omi came to receive his fateful name.

This story will add a dash of joy to your stroll. This is the Mackerel Road as well as the Salt Road. Those preserving salts may have originated here.

And that, as they say, is that.