In a small community at the foot of the famous Mt. Gassan in the northern prefecture of Yamagata, four women in their 80s work together in a popular soba-noodle restaurant. Many people come a long way to enjoy the grannies' soba. Each has her own role - making dough, cutting it into strips, frying tempura, and making side dishes using seasonal vegetables. They enjoy working, chatting, and laughing together, and they have developed a special bond. We follow the women, from the beautiful season of buckwheat flowers blooming to the deep snows of winter.
Stories about people.
Stories about life.
Hometown Stories.
Buckwheat soba noodles here are the best.
When customers say
our soba is delicious...
it's very motivating.
At the foot of the renowned Mount Gassan in Yamagata Prefecture, northern Japan, lies a small community...
And a soba-noodle restaurant.
Two sets of soba with tempura.
Two sets of soba with tempura!
Four women work in the kitchen - all of them in their 80s.
In the local community, people call them "the grannies."
- Can you carry that?
- I have no choice.
I used to carry a huge sack of rice
on my back.
This is a piece of cake.
Beckon lots of customers!
Your turn. Here!
These women work and laugh together.
Precious time spent at the soba restaurant.
This is the Hoya district of Tsuruoka City, covered with buckwheat fields.
It's home to 24 households.
Good morning.
Our first visit to the grannies was in August 2022.
There's something they always do before going into the kitchen.
I love all these, especially the hard ones.
- You have some, too.
- My teeth aren't strong enough.
I love coming here.
When I talk to my husband,
all he says is, "Yeah" or "Right."
We never laugh, either.
It's time.
I wonder how many we'll get today.
Making the dough for soba noodles is the role of 87-year-old Fumiko, the most senior of the four.
She spreads the dough with her arms, which she says are strong from farm work.
- Here you go, Taka.
- Thank you.
Cutting the dough into even strips is the job of 84-year-old Takako, the youngest of the four.
Someone called and asked,
"Do you have any suits?"
My husband's suits.
I said yes, a lot.
He said he'd come over.
Who?
Some buyer.
I handed over 20 suits.
I got less than $80 for them.
Oh, no!
85-year-old Tsunei makes tempura.
87-year-old Yokimi makes side dishes, using seasonal vegetables from nearby fields.
Thank you for waiting.
This is delicious.
The noodles are firm and chewy.
The soba smells good and goes down smoothly.
Granny style soba - delicious!
- Take care!
- Thank you.
Let's take a break. Hurry!
Welcome!
We've got customers.
Hey, they're here!
The four women were in their teens or early 20s when they got married and moved to this community.
At the time, their income was mainly from farming and making charcoal in the mountains.
I'd make charcoal in the mountains and
carry it on my back. My feet hurt.
In winter, I'd be wearing snowshoes.
My face was all dark.
Deeply tanned by the snow.
Fumiko, the oldest, was one of a big family of 10.
She used to work just like her husband, while also taking care of the household chores.
My mother-in-law was strict.
She wouldn't even let me warm up
my frostbitten hands over a heater.
When I remember things like that,
I can't help but weep.
In winter, she'd sometimes go away to work in a city.
She worked hard because it was impossible to survive if she were to lose her job.
At work sites, I'd run rather than walk.
I didn't want to be considered useless
and see my job go to someone else.
I worked hard for the money.
Good morning.
Fumiko found out about her current job when she was in her early 60s.
The Hoya district decided to open a soba restaurant as a way to revitalize the community and was looking for workers.
At this restaurant, she has discovered a new joy in working that she never felt before.
It's fantastic when people say
my soba is delicious.
One day in August,
we had about 140 people.
We were overjoyed, saying,
"It's great to have so many customers!"
It was the most fun I'd ever had.
Ever since, Fumiko has been working with her current partners.
In September, buckwheat flowers are in full bloom in the Hoya district.
People are looking forward to soba noodles made from a new crop of buckwheat.
One of the team has started to mention something that's worrying her.
It's Takako, the one who cuts the soba dough into strips.
Japanese ginger flower buds have opened.
So the price has dropped.
They're no good once they bloom?
They're no longer worth much.
What a waste.
Takako is worried about her vegetable garden.
There's so much work to do.
But I can't handle two people's jobs.
In February 2022, she lost her husband, Mamoru, to a sudden illness.
She was 25 years old when they tied the knot in an arranged marriage.
Ever since, they'd supported their family by doing farm work together.
There was another sad event a year and a half before Mamoru passed away.
Her son, Yuichi, was a tile worker.
He was hospitalized after suddenly collapsing at work and passed away soon after.
Like any other day, he left for work,
saying, "See you later." That was all.
A year and a half later, my husband
died, too. That was such a shock.
Takako felt so depressed that she couldn't leave home.
At the time, I thought
I wouldn't even mind dying.
Then she received a phone call...
Fumiko and the others said,
"Stop taking time off. Just come in!"
They said, "Come over!
It's better to be working."
Fumiko always says, "It's fate.
You can't do anything about it."
I told her, "If you keep brooding,
you'll get sick. Come to the restaurant."
I said, "We won't say anything.
Just come over."
Takako received several phone calls from her partners.
And one month later, she went back to the restaurant.
In busy years in the past, the restaurant had about 3,000 customers annually.
But for the last few years, things have been different.
- Is everyone breathing?
- Maybe not.
It's so quiet.
Feels like we're at a wake!
Customer numbers had fallen because of the effects of COVID-19.
The cat!
Here comes the beckoning cat!
Please help us again today.
We've made lots of soba noodles.
So, please bring in customers.
Then...
- Welcome!
- See? We have customers.
One serving of cold soba and tempura.
The grannies don't want to be defeated.
After work...
Thank you so much for working at
this soba restaurant for so many years.
Congratulations!
Fumiko and Yokimi will turn 88
by year-end.
A surprise celebration of their longevity
by people in the district.
What a surprise!
Isn't it nice to have
people celebrating your age?
Please stick together and stay well,
until you're at least 99. Thank you again.
- Thank you.
- A tissue for you, Yokimi?
"The typhoon will likely
pass through northern Japan."
"Please watch out for
strong winds and high waves."
A powerful storm swept through Yamagata Prefecture in mid-September 2022.
It damaged the buckwheat fields, flooding them or knocking down the stems.
It was bound to affect the harvest.
Having lost her husband, Takako has to take care of the garden by herself.
There was trouble there, too.
I was growing adzuki beans here.
But monkeys came and ate them all.
Her husband used to put up an electric fence every year to keep the monkeys away.
But she wasn't able to, and her vegetables got eaten.
I have to do everything by myself now.
Takako tells the others about the trouble she's having with her garden.
Around 60 monkeys attacked my patch.
They came three times.
The monkeys ate all the vegetables.
That's good, though.
Why?
Harvesting is tiring.
But now, Takako can take it easy.
The monkeys did her a favor.
If the monkeys hadn't eaten the crops,
I would've collapsed.
- Thanks to the monkeys.
- That's right.
We should thank them.
In the end, she starts laughing her troubles away with the others.
When I talk with them, I feel better.
Physically, too.
I laugh with them,
and stop worrying about things.
Busy or not, the four of us
have been working hard together.
If we talk as a team,
good things will be waiting for us.
In the Hoya district, it's time to reap the buckwheat.
The harvest is about 30 percent less than usual.
But a new crop of soba is now available.
The buckwheat stems fell down during the typhoon.
But they're stretching up toward the sky again and bearing fruit.
The women have a big job coming up.
It's October 30.
Good morning. How are you?
The four women gather at the restaurant at 5:30 in the morning.
Here's soba flour from the new crop.
It's the first day that customers get to enjoy so-called "new soba" - made from a fresh crop of buckwheat.
30 minutes before opening, and there's already a crowd of people waiting out front.
Good to have so many customers.
We've got to work hard.
The grannies are fired up now.
You don't have to be a man or young
to do this, like some people say.
Even at our age, we can still fry tempura
and make other delicious things.
We can make soba noodles, too.
No problem at all.
Orders up to no. 40, please.
It's good.
Delicious!
There's a constant stream of customers.
We're just getting warmed up.
We'll get busier and busier.
- You've made lots of noodles.
- 110 batches. Enough for 440 people.
No rest for us today.
It's cold.
Here I go!
There are many tasty things. But people
come all the way here to eat our soba.
It's really motivating.
Two months after the "new soba" day,
the Hoya district is covered in snow.
The four were together
on New Year's Eve as well.
There are 38 servings here.
- Too many. Bring just enough for now.
- I can't divide them.
Received orders for "year-end soba."
Finished making all 1,362 servings.
- That's a lot.
- I guess.
- Have some more.
- No, thanks!
Tsunei, Takako, Yokimi...
We all feel the same.
We can keep working hard together.
I owe my health to the soba place.
Being there makes me so happy.
They're truly good friends.