Is there a meal you'll never forget?

We asked people with international roots living in Japan to tell us of a dish

that seemed to come at just the right moment in their lives - a flavor that brought timely emotional support.

Let's delve into the stories of those for whom a certain taste will forever remain in their memories.

"CAIPIRINHA."

Thank you!

This small cafe on a shopping street in Nagoya City is a neighborhood gathering spot for customers young and old.

The manager is Vinicius Oda.

Cheerful and friendly, he's the life and soul of the local community.

But this wasn't always the case.

There was a time when he had difficulty accepting his origins.

Vinicius's father is a Brazilian of Japanese descent, and his mother is Brazilian.

He was born in Toyota in Aichi Prefecture, a town with a large Brazilian population,

and spent his childhood in a housing complex where many Brazilians lived.

However, as he grew older, his Brazilian roots became a cause of self-doubt.

Part of me wanted to affirm
my Brazilian identity.

But there was something inside me
that felt it was impossible.

Saying that I couldn't fit in with
people my age in the community...

might be an exaggeration.

But I often felt like that.

But a certain flavor brought a timely change to Vinicius's life in 2019,

when he enjoyed a Brazilian cocktail called Caipirinha with his relatives.

It was during his second ever visit to Brazil.

Back then, he worried over how he'd be received.

However, his relatives welcomed him with open arms and threw him a surprise party.

His grandparents shed tears of joy at the sight of their grandson.

I remember they had me dance a lot
at the party.

My uncle said, "Let's dance!"
They spun me round like a mannequin.

A glass of Caipirinha in hand, Vinicius chatted using what little Portuguese he knew,

and found he could connect with people, regardless of language or roots.

Because they so kindly welcomed me,
it made me more positive about myself.

It made me want to value
my own unique individuality.

Caipirinha helped me embrace my roots.

"MENEMEN."

Hard at work on a demolition site in Nagoya is Serkan Pak, from southeast Turkey.

In this trade where he started as a part-timer, he's now the owner of a business that employs twenty workers.

This plot will be vacant in about a week.

We work hard, and we enjoy it.

In 2016, Serkan and his Japanese wife Mayu got married.

They're the proud parents of three children.

The dish Serkan will always remember fondly is usually served at breakfast in Turkey

- menemen - vegetables sauteed with tomatoes and eggs.

As a kid, I'd wake up, my dad and I would
go grocery shopping, and we made this.

Serkan moved to Japan in 2013, at the age of seventeen.

A compatriot found him a part-time job in demolition.

At the time, as his budget was limited and Halal ingredients were difficult to procure in Japan

he often prepared menemen - a low-cost yet nutritious option.

Eating it reminds me of those days.

When I didn't have much money,
it was a cheap solution.

Breakfast is ready!

Menemen was a source of encouragement through hard times.

He still cooks it on occasion when he has a bit of time in the morning.

We often ate this on Sunday mornings.

We slept in, then he prepared it.

Now that his business is on track, Serkan wants to help fellow foreigners in Japan who struggle to get by like he once did years ago.

For lunch today...

...some of his homemade menemen.

He prepared a little extra for this new member to his crew who's also from Turkey.

Language barriers
can make it hard to find work.

I want to do what I can
to help those looking for a job.

My sidekick: menemen!

"EOMUKTANG."

Our third and final story takes us near an airport, to this Korean restaurant.

Welcome!

It's run by Kim Hyun Jin from Busan in Korea.

She opens the shop at 6:50 a.m.

She's memorized all her regular customers' favorites.

- The usual? Rice porridge?
- Yes, please.

I'll give you half...

so you don't leave any.

Each and every customer is very important to Hyun Jin.

Thanks to her warmhearted character, the restaurant is always lively with hungry patrons.

I'd be lonely without this place.

It powers me for the day.

A chef back in her homeland as well, Hyun Jin came to Japan in 2008.

Betting it all on her cooking skills, she opened a Korean restaurant in Nagoya.

However, she had to close up shop just a year-and-a-half later, and was left with debt.

She was considering going back to Korea, when, on a cold winter night, she and a friend had some eomuktang.

Eomuktang is a hot pot of fish cakes and vegetables.

It's a dish often shared with friends or family in winter.

Just as Hyun Jin was ready to give up her dream, her friend knew just the right words.

"If you run away, it'll be the same
wherever you go."

"You should think this over," she said.

So, I decided to give it another try.

That night, the eomuktang
was flavored with tears.

A seasoning of tears
that turned to hope.

Then, in 2014, Hyun Jin made a comeback and opened her current eatery, where she's built invaluable ties with her customers.

This is a farm owned by one of Hyun Jin's regulars, who offers some of his vegetables for her restaurant.

She's giving it her all here in Japan.
So, I want to help her somehow.

Thank you!

Everyone has a dish that holds a special place in their heart.

A recipe that's worth much more than the sum of its ingredients.

What's yours?