“My Awakening” by Culinary Creator Mami Imai: A Small Step That Sparked a Big Dream

A few years ago, I was teaching cooking classes at home and receiving recipe requests from companies. Even when I created recipes professionally, my name never appeared in the publications. They weren’t asking me, Mami Imai—they just needed a recipe to fill space, to add some color. Anyone who could cook would do. My name wasn’t needed at all.

I didn’t feel sharp dissatisfaction, but I carried a vague sense of unease: “Is this really enough for me?” Every time I let my thoughts wander, I ended up suppressing them with, “Maybe I’m just being greedy. I should be grateful—after all, I get to work with food I love while raising small children.”

But once those overflowing thoughts began, I couldn’t stop them. What kind of work did I want to do in the future? How did I want to live my life? Before I knew it, I was seriously reflecting on the deepest wishes in my heart.

The truth was, I had always wanted to publish a book someday.

As a lifelong bookworm, I had a strong admiration for books. After more than 12 years of running cooking classes, I had plenty of recipes. But I had no idea how to get published as a “culinary creator.” Eventually, I convinced myself it was impossible and tucked the dream away.

Even when I occasionally pulled out that wish and looked at it, nothing ever changed. No one was going to prepare the way for me, nor would there be some kind of divine intervention.
Nothing would begin unless I myself took action and stepped outward. It took me a long time to fully understand that. If I never acted, no one could ever know my hopes—or even know who I was.

One evening, after finishing a cooking class, I lay on the sofa scrolling through social media.

I clicked “Create New Account” and typed in “Mami Imai (いまいまい)” in hiragana. Then I erased it, took a deep breath, and imagined seeing my name printed on the cover of a cookbook. Would it be written in hiragana, katakana, or kanji? Of course, I had no concrete plans yet. But once I chose a name, it wouldn’t be so easy to change it later. Since I don’t naturally come across as imposing, I thought something that looked a little more formal might suit me better.

I typed again: “Culinary Creator Mami Imai (今井真実)” in kanji. Then I hit the register button. My heart pounded as if I had just made a reckless, life-altering decision. I stared up at the ceiling.

This was a new beginning. From now on, I would put my name out into the world and work as a culinary creator. I made that decision quietly, in my heart.

Even though it was scary, I felt I had to step into the online world under my own name. I didn’t know exactly what I should do, but I told myself: “Unless I move forward seriously, nothing will change.”

In 2019, I signed up for note, a social media platform for creators in Japan.
Not long after, the COVID-19 pandemic began and the world shifted dramatically. I was forced to close my cooking classes. At that time, I asked my students if I could share the recipes online. They were originally created just for them, so I had avoided publishing them elsewhere. To my relief, they warmly agreed—some were even delighted.

By March 2020, I began posting a few recipes a week on note, writing as though I were sending letters to my students. At the same time, I started keeping a weekly diary. In the face of a world changing so drastically, I wanted to record the simple, ordinary meals and everyday moments of a normal family.

Then, about three years later, in February 2022, I published my first cookbook. An editor who had made several of my recipes from note reached out to me.

That same spring, I also published a recipe-essay collection. Thanks to my weekly diary, editors had come to see me as a food essayist as well.

Creating recipes nonstop, writing regularly, sharing consistently—having editors discover me through that process was what eventually led to publication. That was when I first realized the path.

I was also lucky. Even with a small following, passionate supporters increased, and they brought me many opportunities. More importantly, through direct feedback at my cooking classes, I had been unknowingly training myself. Students pointed out difficult steps, helping me refine my recipes. Thanks to that experience, I was ready to seize the opportunities when they came.

Now, I hold a new dream: to share Japanese home cooking with the world.

Japanese cuisine is enjoyed globally as fine dining, but beyond the dishes served at prestigious ryotei restaurants, even home-style meals have great appeal—treating ingredients with care, seasoning simply. I want to introduce these dishes and seasonings to people abroad. And I hope people everywhere will come to love umeboshi (pickled plums) and other plum-based foods as much as I do. Just thinking about that excites me.

Nothing happens unless we imagine, take action, and give voice to our dreams—even the most far-fetched ideas. First, I will take action myself and find companions who share my vision. Once, I resolved to fight alone, but now I know that connecting with others can create a much bigger circle. I believe that the cycle may one day change society and contribute to a better future.


The word “awakening” doesn’t just mean rising from sleep—it also means something dormant beginning to stir. Perhaps, right now, I have only just awakened.