Not What They Ate, But How Food Sustained the Journey
When speaking of food along the Shikoku Pilgrimage, the focus should not be on what was eaten, but on how food has supported the journey itself. Hands offering hot tea at a roadside rest, a steaming pot of udon noodles cooked by local devotees, the sound of miso soup simmering in a pilgrim’s inn—these were not mere meals, but a system of culture that sustained and connected people.
Food was both the fuel of travel and a medium for passing on prayer.
The Teahouse and a Cup of Hot Water
In the mountain villages of Ehime and Kochi, small wayside chapels known as chadō still remain. Inside stand statues of Kobo Daishi or Kannon, and in front—a brazier and teacups. Villagers took turns boiling water and offering tea to pilgrims passing by, saying, “Please, have a cup.”
That cup was more than a simple rest. It was an everyday act of faith. The rising steam was an extension of the villagers’ prayers, transforming the road itself into sacred space.
Udon and the Sea: Communal Hospitality Across the Waves
From the Edo to the Meiji periods, groups of devotees known as udon settai kō (Udon Hospitality Societies) traveled by boat to Taisanji Temple in Ehime. They built temporary huts in the temple grounds and spent several days serving udon noodles to pilgrims.
At Daikōji Temple in Kagawa, a similar custom remains—locals gather rice and funds to prepare warm bowls of udon for travelers. In front of a steaming pot, social status and hometown disappear; the walking pilgrim and the welcoming host share the same bowl.
That single serving of udon may well have been the earliest form of social connection—a “spiritual social media” long before the digital age.
Meals at Zenkon-yado: Charity and Reality Intertwined
The zenkon-yado—free pilgrim lodgings—were places where charity met practicality. Though called “free,” travelers often left small coins, called tōmyōsen, to help with cooking costs.
Even a humble meal of rice and miso soup could restore a weary body. The kitchen was an extension of prayer, a space of shared compassion and local wisdom. Today, some temple lodgings still serve traditional vegetarian shōjin meals, while others offer modest portions of fish or meat to support physical strength.
The essence of Shikoku’s food culture lies not in strict dietary rules but in flexibility—understanding what the traveler truly needs.
Modern Teahouses Along the Route
Throughout the pilgrimage route today, small henro-goya rest huts can be found—modern versions of the old chadō. They provide a roof, a bench, and sometimes a hot-water pot or a message notebook.
Maintained through local donations and volunteer work, these spaces preserve a culture of “permission to rest.” Though the form has changed, the spirit of Osettai—the act of selfless giving—continues through this quiet cycle: someone boils the water, and someone receives it.
Eating as a Form of Practice
Meals along the pilgrimage are not merely to fill the stomach. They are gestures of care for the body and ways of rediscovering human warmth through shared food. Offering tea, setting the table, and sharing a bite—all of these actions are acts of devotion, a kind of spiritual training in everyday form.
Across sects and generations, this shared meal culture has taken root as a “prayer of shared life” unique to Shikoku.
Scenes Within a Single Bowl
Walking across Shikoku, one encounters countless scenes of food—the hot tea offered in a mountain chadō, the udon served in a harbor town, the pickles laid out beside rice in a simple inn. Each represents a single meal offered to sustain your steps.
When you receive that bowl, you may think of someone far away who split firewood and boiled the water for you. At that moment, even the rising steam feels like the shape of a prayer.
What Is “Pilgrim Food”?
The food culture of the Shikoku Pilgrimage is not defined by recipes but by systems of support. The steam of the chadō, the pots of the settai kō, the humble meals of the zenkon-yado, the benches of the henro-goya—all are cultural infrastructures built to keep the traveler moving forward.
Food, in this sense, is a prayer that gives rise to the next step. Each meal you receive is a new line in a thousand-year story of kindness and connection. And in the steam that rises from your bowl, someone’s gentle prayer still lingers today.
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