駅前の蕎麦屋「松乃」は、創業八十年を超える老舗だ。Matsuno, the soba shop by the station, is a long-established business more than eighty years old.普段は常連客が昼にぽつぽつと訪れる程度の、静かな店である。Normally it's a quiet place, with just a trickle of regulars coming in at lunchtime.だが、大晦日ともなると話は別だ。When it comes to New Year's Eve, however, it's another story.朝から年越し蕎麦の注文が殺到し、店の前には開店前から行列ができる。From the morning, orders for New Year's Eve soba pour in, and a queue forms outside before it even opens.
今年、その厨房に初めて立ったのは、店主の孫の健太だった。This year, standing in the kitchen for the first time was Kenta, the owner's grandson.東京のIT企業を辞めて戻ってきたのは、この春のことだ。He had quit an IT company in Tokyo and come back this spring.両親の心配をよそに、健太は祖父に弟子入りを申し出た。Paying no heed to his parents' worries, Kenta asked his grandfather to take him on as an apprentice.祖父は「好きにしろ」と言っただけで、それ以上は何も言わなかった。His grandfather just said, "Do as you like," and nothing more.
健太がまず手をつけたのは、注文の受け方だった。The first thing Kenta tackled was how orders were taken.何十年も電話と手書きの伝票で回してきた店に、ネットの予約システムを導入したのだ。He brought an online booking system into a shop that had run for decades on the phone and handwritten order slips.客が並ばずに済めば、年老いた祖父の負担も減るだろうと考えたのだ。He reckoned that if customers didn't have to queue, it would also ease the burden on his elderly grandfather.これで行列も、鳴りっぱなしの電話もなくなるはずだった。That was supposed to be the end of both the queues and the constantly ringing phone.
ところが、大晦日の朝、予約の画面を見た健太は青ざめた。On the morning of New Year's Eve, however, Kenta went pale when he looked at the bookings screen.受け付けた数が、打てる蕎麦の量を大幅に超えていたのだ。The number of orders accepted far exceeded the amount of soba they could make.上限の設定で、ゼロを一つ多く打ち込んでいたらしい。It seemed he had typed one zero too many when setting the limit.
「どうしよう。今から断りの連絡を入れないと。」"What do I do? I'll have to start contacting people to cancel."うろたえる健太を横目に、祖父は黙って奥の戸棚を開けた。With barely a glance at the flustered Kenta, his grandfather silently opened the cupboard at the back.中には、分厚い大学ノートが何冊も積んであった。Inside was a pile of thick exercise books.表紙には、それぞれ昭和や平成の年号が書き込まれている。On each cover was written a year from the Showa or Heisei era.
「毎年な、大晦日ともなると、何かしら起きるんだ。」"Every year, come New Year's Eve, something or other goes wrong."粉が届かなかった年、職人が倒れた年、大雪で客が来なかった年。The year the flour didn't arrive, the year a cook collapsed, the year heavy snow kept the customers away.ノートには、そのたびに祖父がどう乗り切ったかが、細かい字で記されていた。In small handwriting, the notebooks recorded how his grandfather had got through each time.「打ち手が足りないなら、近所の同業に頭を下げる。それも商売のうちだ。」"If you're short of hands, you go cap in hand to the other shops nearby. That's part of the trade too."
祖父が電話をかけると、昼過ぎには隣町の蕎麦屋から二人の職人が駆けつけてくれた。His grandfather made a call, and by early afternoon two cooks had rushed over from a soba shop in the next town.聞けば、何年も前に向こうの店が困ったとき、祖父が手を貸したことがあるという。It turned out that years before, when that shop was in trouble, his grandfather had lent them a hand.祖父は「貸しは返してもらうもんだ」と笑い、黙々と蕎麦を打ち続けた。"A favour's there to be returned," his grandfather said with a laugh, and went on silently making soba.
最後の客を見送ったのは、年が明ける十分前だった。They saw off the last customer ten minutes before the new year.店の前の行列は、結局、例年よりも長くなっていた。In the end, the queue outside had been longer than in previous years.健太は空になった釜の前で、祖父から新しいノートを一冊手渡された。In front of the empty pot, Kenta's grandfather handed him a new notebook.表紙には、まだ何も書かれていない。Nothing had yet been written on the cover.「今年の分は、お前が書け。」"You write this year's."健太はしばらく考えてから、最初の行に「予約の上限、ゼロの数を二度確かめること」と書いた。After thinking for a while, Kenta wrote on the first line: "Booking limit: check the number of zeros twice."