The first thing that catches your attention is a bold and elaborate cartoonish pencil sketch of a man aggressively clutching a loaf of shokupan away from another miserable looking man pleading for a small piece. Set against a bright pink floral backdrop, the illustration is comical. Add in the caption that also serves as the shop's name and the effect is doubly amusing: Darenimoagenai (I refuse to share this with anyone).
Creative marketing alone could only do so much for bread sales. At the end of the day, the shokupan must deliver. And it does.
Upon purchase, the bread is placed in a bag and left slightly open to let the warm loaf breathe. From the outside, it looks no different from your average supermarket shokupan. What elevates Darenimoagenai's bread to a whole new level reveals itself when your serrated knife slices through the loaf. Soft and moist right from the crust, it's high quality texture is evident in the fluffy crumbs that fall off from your knife. But the first bite is the moment of pure shokupan bliss: I'd be hard pressed to think of anything more pillowy soft or comforting.
My children who normally ask me to cut off the crust (pan no mimi or "bread's ears" in Japanese) ate up everything and asked for seconds. I ate my slice plain, so delicious it was by itself I was afraid of ruining the experience by putting butter or jam.
Darenimoagenai's shokupan is made with French fermented butter (bacteria is introduced to the cream so that sugars are converted to lactic acid giving the butter an irresistibly good sour taste) blended with domestic butter and rosehip honey. These premium ingredients work together to create the most elegant shokupan with exceptional texture and sweetness.
The world is full of things to covet but Darenimoagenai's bread is one of those things you will not want to share.