I saw on the kitchen table, my husband had bought a bagful of "Okinawa Kuroame". Altho' it's similar to any other black sugar candy, the only difference is on the inside is the actual black cane sugar found only in Okinawa. You don't see it anymore. Some would say it's a rustic, unrefined taste, and that's why.
My memory of this sugar was how it used to be sold in large slabs, and mouthfuls were broken off to eat, like chocolate, I suppose. I remember on cold winter days, my sisters and I visited "Grampa Nagata" (We called him Grampa, altho' he was really our mother's uncle) who broke off pieces and laid them on the edge of his "hibachi", made us wait until the corners melted all shiny.
"There. Should be good and sweet now." he'd say. "Who wants the first?"
I don't think it's really the taste that's so special about that black cane sugar that makes me want to have more of it; it's the warmth of the memory. We may not be elite people, but are we leaving behind aromas of the Lord Jesus for people to fondly recall?
