Series Overview
Our Meet the Growers series remains a key part of the Japanese Exotic Mushroom Journal`s article selection, allowing a glimpse into the varied world of Japanese mushroom cultivation through tours of different farms across the country, showcasing the successes and difficulties that growers of different scales and species deal with. For this edition we visit a medium-scale enoki grower in central Japan, to get a sense about how a `workhorse` farm growing one of Japan`s largest and cheapest crops functions in a highly competitive industry.

Over the course of the Meet the Growers series, we have visited a host of unusual and exciting corners of the Japanese mushroom industry, giving our international readership a sense of how, within a small number of refined growing systems used in Japan, diversity of practice is flourishing, whether in species being grown, marketing and branding strategies, or the use of increasingly impressive technologies. Taking up the mantle of this series for my inaugural issue as editor, however, I thought it would be worth going back to basics, and visiting one of the `workhorse` farms that, though not specialising in unusual varieties or working at breath-taking scale with the newest technology, nonetheless counts itself among the many operations that make up the backbone of the domestic mushroom industry. It is in these normally inaccessible farms, I thought, that we can get a sense of how, with amassed experience and a dose of creativity, the inherent difficulties of mushroom farming can be overcome.

The `hidden` Kakeno Enoki
It was with that in mind that I made contact with a medium-scale enoki farm only a 40-minute drive from our Komoro office, tucked away in the small and unassuming mountain village of Wada: Kakeno Enoki. Unlike many of the other farms we have visited - which have relied on strong branding to establish relationships with consumers, through unique packaging, on-site direct-to-consumer sales, or flashy websites - Kakeno Enoki is very easy to miss. There is almost no information about the farm online (and no website), and the farm itself - set against the edge of the steep valley, and overlooking the sleepy village - has no signs on the outside, simply appearing as a normal factory building set above terraced rice fields and against the mountainside. Driving up through the winding and narrow mountain roads on the blisteringly hot August day, I almost second-guessed myself as I pulled in, only the presence of two large substrate mixers set just inside the building telling me I was in the right place.

Kakeno Enoki`s hidden presence belies, however, its outsized presence in the domestic mushroom industry, especially in terms of its remarkable history. The importance of the family-run farm not only within the history of the village, but within that of mushroom growing across the prefecture and country, was made clear to me by the son of the farm`s owner, Takeshi Kakeno, as we sat down to an interview in the farm`s offices. Coming down to greet me, Takeshi was striking in his full working overalls and cap, clearly centrally involved in the farm`s day-to-day running, warmly greeting me as I drove in and quickly settling down to explain to me how this quiet backwater of central Japan had such an important role in the domestic history of mushroom farming. Over a glass of iced Japanese tea, he explained alongside his father how the farm had been started 40 years ago during the boom period of enoki farming in Japan. Takeshi described this as a `gold rush` in which the price of enoki alongside the newly introduced farming techniques meant easy money for even small-scale producers, with the village of Wada becoming one of the largest enoki-producing areas in the country; he laughed as he said that back in the day there were so many producers that people joked that if you threw a stone anywhere in the village, you were likely to hit one. Kakeno Enoki, coming in towards the end of this boom period, and starting off with a reasonably high degree of mechanisation, was able to both capitalise on these initially favourable conditions, whilst also surviving the steady decrease in enoki prices that shuttered almost all of the other growing operations in the area. Whilst vast and highly-mechanised enoki farms in other parts of the prefecture now work at five or even ten times the scale of Kakeno Enoki, Takeshi`s father was keen to point out just how central this area, and the farm itself, was to its development, even if they now counted themselves as a mid-size operation.

The relatively `hidden` nature of Kakeno Enoki, was rather a result of the position (like many other operations) it now holds in the domestic industry, and particularly its relation to the dominant agricultural cooperative, Japan Agriculture (JA). The JA cooperative has played an outsized role in the overwhelming majority of domestic agricultural production as an entity that sits both `behind` farmers by providing financing and inputs, and `in front` by purchasing their product at standard (low) price; in this respect, it is no different for the mushroom industry. Takeshi explained to me how almost the entirety of their yearly production - about 500 tons - went through the cooperative, the only exception being six crates a week that were sent to a Shinjuku department store. As JA would buy their entire harvest, as long as it was of the correct weight and of decent quality, provided they got the fundamentals of growing correct, they could simply ship their daily production straight to the cooperative without having to deal directly with supermarkets, restaurants, or direct-to-consumer sales. As Takeshi told me, JA both provided some of their inputs, in terms of spawn, as well buying their product, to be mixed in with numerous other similar producers throughout the prefecture and sold under a single brand.

Having everything post- and pre-cultivation (not only spawn, but also pre-mixed substrate) sorted, meant that Takeshi and his father focused on refining their daily growing operation, making tweaks here and there in order to maximise high-quality, good yielding enoki, with minimal contamination. Takeshi talked excitedly with me about the intricacies of managing enoki growing, both in terms of maintaining the quality and consistency of the crop itself, as well as looking after the machines and equipment throughout the facility. Even with the closely controlled environments of each of the separate growing rooms (Kakeno Enoki made use of the classic enoki cultivation system, splitting their farm into distinct rooms for incubation, pinning, acclimation, control, and fruiting), Takeshi was keen to point out how much variation there could be, and the importance of keeping one`s proverbial `eye on the ball`. There were, Takeshi repeatedly told me, so many variables in the growing process that made it a complex operation, and it was never simply a case of setting the system up and letting it run: not only fine-tuning environmental variables for each of the many stages of enoki cultivation, but ensuring the various machines were working well, adjusting for differences between seasons, trouble-shooting where necessary, and so on.

Even when things were functioning well, Takeshi made sure to tell me that there was still room for improvement, and that he always had an eye towards making the system work better. He told me an example of a problem in one of his incubation rooms that led to a few crates being a few degrees warmer than they should have been, usually something that would be a cause for concern and lost crop. Despite his worries that these crates would be ruined, the final fruiting showed no issues at all; seeing an opportunity to produce the same crop as usual but without having to cool the room as much, he set about adjusting the temperature for the whole room, thinking that everything would be fine. In the end, however, once the temperature was warm for the room he ended up having problems all round, leading him to revert back to the initial incubation room conditions. Takeshi smiled as he explained to me that for just a few crates, the mushrooms were `covered` by those surrounding them, allowing them to `get away with it`, even with unfavourable conditions. Inevitable mistakes, then, were seen by Takeshi as potential opportunities for learning and refinement, even if they did not always work out in the end.

The focus on the minute details of enoki growing became evident after we began touring the facility, with Takeshi immediately pointing out numerous systems that they had implemented to improve consistency. Entering the first incubation room after seeing the mixing, bottling, and sterilisation area, Takeshi was keen to show me how they ensured an even climate control in the rooms through the use of a number of interesting systems. While he was using strategies found in most growing operations in Japan - such as installing fans inbetween trolleys to ensure air circulation, and moving crates occasionally so that no `hotspots` could develop for too long - he also pointed to a whiteboard on the outside of each of the incubation rooms showing different locations in the rooms with assigned numbers. Though at first glance I could not get a grasp on what it meant, Takeshi explained to me that it was a means by which an `even` climate could be maintained in the incubation rooms, by directing newly sterilised and inoculated bottles into disparately spaced locations throughout the rooms. As the mycelium spread through the bottles, he explained, they would heat up; placing them sequentially in the same spot, as is done in many farms, meant that your cooling systems were always having to fight against a heat gradient in the room, as areas with bottles that were at `peak` metabolism would be much warmer. Implementing this system allowed that heat to be evenly distributed, and helped keep a steady climate across all the incubation rooms.

This was just one of a number of systems, tricks, and tools that Takeshi showed me as we walked around the neatly organised but warren-like facility, spread over two buildings and two floors, working our way from incubation rooms, to a well-worn scraping area (Takeshi proudly informed me it was one of the first ever made by the manufacturer), pinning and fruiting rooms, and finally harvesting and packing. These systems could be seen, for example, in the nifty trolley system upon which blue lights were mounted in the fruiting room, which slowly moved a line of LEDs parallel to the crates holding the bottles, thus providing even light coverage and ensuring even growth. There were also beautifully ergonomic packing stations which the farm had designed themselves, and which Takeshi stated they were often giving the design of to other farms, because of how useful they were. All of these demonstrated Kakeno Enoki`s constant eye towards how to improve their operation, even when growing the same crop at similar scale over many years.

Fundamentally this dedication was evident in Takeshi and his father`s refusal to simply make do with a `good enough` product. While the consolidation of many farms` product into a single JA brand meant there was some leeway in the quality of the enoki - as long as they met the basic requirements regarding weight etc. - I was struck by Takeshi`s attitude towards his ready-to-harvest crop, examining each bottle individually and expressing dissatisfaction with the uniformity of some of them. While to my eye each of the bottles that Takeshi picked up were examples of top-quality enoki - with almost no discolouration, a nice firmness to the base of the stems, and an even height of the caps - it was clear that there were slight differences that the farm was always looking to improve upon (regardless of their impact on their bottom line, as all the bottles we looked at would be easily accepted by JA when shipped).

Even with this dedication to quality and refining of growing systems, Takeshi told me that there were still plenty of issues that they faced on a daily basis. While we talked about various problems that were facing the industry at the moment - including the cheap price paid for enoki in Japan (though with a slight respite last year that has helped them fund new machinery) - when I asked him what the biggest issue Kakeno Enoki faced was, Takeshi told me it was all to do with maintaining a decent workflow. In comparison to the newer, large-scale, `one-room` farms, which did not move the bottles at all once inoculated (from incubation through to harvest) but simply changed the climatic conditions of the room to match each stage when necessary, Kakeno Enoki uses the classic method of enoki growing: moving bottles from room to room, each set to specific environmental conditions, and with size set dependent on how long the bottles are in there. Takeshi emphasised just how important it was to fine tune the movement of trolleys and bottles through these different rooms: still working with some buildings and grow rooms that had been there since it opened, daily cultivation involved a complex `shuffle` of trolleys through different buildings, machinery, and over multiple levels. Certainly, walking with Takeshi through the maze-like farm gave me a sense of how difficult that would be, moving from the mixing and bottling room right at the bottom of the farm, before climbing stairs and slopes, and down corridors, as we worked our way through the farm set against the sloping valley side.

While this flow of trolleys was not a problem in and of itself, issues arose, Takeshi told me, when there were changes upstream, outside of their control. This particularly occurred with different strains they sourced from their spawn producer, where changes in growing speed or other qualities could disrupt Kakeno Enoki`s carefully tuned workflow. Takeshi laughed as he talked about the different labelling on the bottles they received, how a different letter or number would alert them to a new strain that would mean changes to cultivation, even if he did not know exactly how. Having to adapt to this meant being ready to quickly rush through more bottles that usual from room to room, working longer hours so as not to keep bottles in the wrong conditions for too long.

Fundamentally, Takeshi emphasised to me, the most important point in dealing with issues on the farm - both in workflow, but also broken machinery or contamination - was being attuned to the changes happening in the farm, and getting on top of problems quickly. Because they were working with living organisms highly sensitive to changes in their surroundings, it was vital to quickly get to the bottom of a problem and work out a solution. With broken machinery, for example, he told me that because it could often and have a look at a malfunctioning cooler, it was vital to spot problems as soon as possible so that a potential build-up of problems could be `nipped in the bud` before they had a serious impact on the crops. Takeshi stressed that this was not only necessary for mechanical systems but for working practices as well. He explained how they had been scratching their heads at a spike in contamination for a while, which they eventually traced back to a worker not correctly spraying alcohol to sterilise the inoculation machine while working. Though on the surface everything looked fine, by paying close attention to subtle differences - and knowing how things `should` look - meant they could get to the bottom of the problem and correct the working practice.

`The more you dig down, the deeper it goes`
Whilst in some ways the problems that Kakeno Enoki faced in day-to-day management - in terms of ensuring their operation was not operating in the red, or managing workflow in moving their crop across multiple growing rooms - were a result of being a mid-sized operation in a market which was constantly throwing up new, large-scale, highly-mechanised farms that could produce at very low costs, Takeshi also talked as we walked around the harvesting and packing rooms of the upsides of their position in the industry. While Kakeno Enoki obviously relied on a great deal of mechanisation to produce at scale and at a decent cost, they still relied on labour when it came to harvesting the bottles by hand and weighing them into the correct amounts before being packaged in the JA brand plastic. While this was a cost, Takeshi told me, it also meant that they were able to have a bit of manoeuvrability unlike their larger competitors. He gave the example of how smaller packs of enoki - 100g, instead of the standard 200g - had started to go up in price relative to their weight. For smaller-scale producers harvesting and weighing by hand, it was relatively easy to pivot into smaller packs and make the most of this price difference; for highly mechanised operations `locked in` to one size, this is not possible.

After interviewing Takeshi and touring the farm, I was struck how this market manoeuvrability was just one part of a broader dynamism evident at Kakeno Enoki, a product perhaps partly of its size - big enough to survive in the unforgiving Japanese mushroom industry, but small enough to still be manageable with a small team and flexible to changes as they arose - but also of the flexible and engaged attitude of those that worked there, built up over years growing the same crop in the same place. A few times during my visit I was told by both Takeshi and his father that there had been times when they had almost quit, when entire crops had failed; now, as the older Kakeno told me proudly, jointly run with his son, it was all running smoothly, and at full capacity. No doubt this dynamic attitude was at the heart of their current thriving operation.

More than anything, talking to Takeshi I sensed that not only was this dynamism and flexibility an essential part of what had allowed Kakeno Enoki to survive for so long, but also a key element of the pleasure of growing mushrooms. As I left Kakeno Enoki, one phrase that Takeshi had used to describe growing mushrooms stuck with me: `The more you dig down, the deeper it goes`, a sense that even in such a controlled growing environment there was always variability, and with it room for learning. Getting a glimpse into a normally hidden growing operation at Kakeno Enoki, with their commitment to refinement and quality despite the difficulties of the industry, felt like a testament to the truth of that statement.