In Nagano’s embrace, a secret tale unfolds,Oyaki, a morsel steeped in history’s gold.From mountain heights where whispers softly play,A doughy dance of flavors in the fray.Beneath the hands that knead and gently mold,Seasons’ bounty, a story to be told.The filling, nature’s gift in every bite,A melody of taste, a pure delight.In winter’s grasp, a sustenance Continue reading