Week 2: Days at Morisaki Bookshop ft Carrot cake and coffee

For my second review, I’ve picked Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa, translated by Eric Ozawa. I’ll be honest—I was still riding the high from my previous read, Welcome to Hyunam-dong Bookshop (which you can find a review for here too!). I wanted to capture that same feeling: getting to know another bookshop owner, falling for the charm of their store, and meeting the customers who make it special. In hindsight, that expectation was a little unfair to this book. While it shares a similar cozy bookshop setting, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop has its own unique charm and story to tell.

This novel follows Takako, a woman in her mid-twenties who, at the start, is far from living her best life. She has a stable job and a secret boyfriend—who, in a shocking turn, announces his engagement… to someone else. Not just anyone, but a well-known, popular coworker. Yikes. Wanting to escape the mess, Takako quits her job and is left directionless. That is, until she gets an unexpected call from her uncle, whom she hasn’t spoken to in a while, inviting her to stay at his bookshop and help out. With nothing to lose, she takes him up on the offer, unknowingly setting herself on a quiet yet meaningful journey of healing, reconnecting, and self-discovery.

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Days at the Morisaki Bookshop. My lingering love for Hyunam-dong made it hard to appreciate this book for what it was. But as I kept reading, I found myself warming up to Takako, loving the Morisaki bookshop, and even getting intrigued by the real-life Jimbocho area.

When thinking of the perfect treat pairing, I wanted something that mirrored my experience—something I didn’t immediately love but grew to appreciate. Carrot cake came to mind. At first, the idea of a vegetable in cake seemed odd to me, just like how Takako’s situation and this book’s pacing felt unfamiliar at first. But as I gave it a chance, I found myself loving it. Just like Takako slowly found comfort in her uncle’s shop, I grew to appreciate this story. And I can totally picture Takako enjoying a slice of carrot cake with a warm cup of coffee at Saveur, finding solace in its simple yet deep flavors—much like her own journey.

Would I recommend this book? Yes—but go in with an open mind and no expectations. Let it unfold the way it’s meant to, and you might just end up loving it too.