Rice has always been part of my life.

Growing up with a Thai mother meant rice was never just an occasional side dish. Jasmine rice, sticky rice, basmati rice—I grew up eating all of them alongside European meals.

Then I moved to Japan.

When I first visited Japan years ago, I remember eating sushi and immediately noticing the difference.

The rice tasted better than what I had eaten in sushi restaurants back in the Netherlands.

At the time, I thought that was simply because I was eating sushi in its country of origin.

Living in Japan has taught me something else.

The Japanese really do take rice seriously.

Before moving here, I had heard people say that.

I understood the words.

I just didn’t understand what they meant.

Now that I eat Japanese rice almost every day, I do.

The differences are surprisingly noticeable.

The texture.

The moisture.

The shine.

Even rice from different prefectures has its own character.

So far, the rice from Toyama has impressed me the most.

It is, quite simply, the best rice I have ever eaten.

I’m not a rice expert.

Far from it.

But living in Japan has taught me enough to notice the difference.

Looking back, I realize something.

When you experience that level of quality every day, it quietly becomes normal.

Only then do you realize how much you’ve come to expect it.

I suppose I’ve become rather spoiled.

And I’m perfectly happy to admit it.