So ubiquitous as to be rendered almost invisible, the sticky bottles of soy sauce that decorate every table, counter and shelf in Japan are never far from reach. Both an ingredient and a condiment, there isn’t a chef in the land who would begrudge a diner a dash of the sleek black sauce – be it at a Michelin-starred sushi restaurant or a back street ramen joint. While the bottles are often slung behind stacked menus, their everyday presence is no sign that their contents should be underestimated. As common as table salt but infinitely more complex, the sweet, salty mix offers a glimpse of the sought-after umami flavor Japan is famous for.

Ramen joints are often easily recognizable, either by large windows illuminating slurping customers, a vending machine dispensing meal tickets at the doorway, or the brightly lit signs; usually it’s some combination of the three. When it comes to Ura Sablon, however, one might easily pass it by. The narrow entrance is tucked away between a storage locker and an air conditioning unit; a small notice, illegible unless up close, is attached to a traffic cone; and the paper lantern reading “tsukemen” – a kind of dipping noodles – could easily have ended up there by chance.

In a southwest corner of residential Tokyo, a British bakery shimmers into view – seemingly a mirage in the urban desert. This is not a hallucination of a nostalgic expat, but the second branch of Mulberry Manor, a bakery hailing from Lyme Regis, a charming town on southern England’s Jurassic Coast, which, as the name suggests, is famed for its fossils. It looks like 2019 is turning out to be quite a year for this bakery – this unlikely outpost in Tokyo will celebrate its first birthday while its mother store in Lyme turns ten. But it certainly wasn’t planned this way.