When I was growing up in Japan in the early 80s, I thought nothing unusual about my mother waking up at five am to prepare bento (packed meals) for the family. For my sister was a Hello Kitty bento box with a divider to separate the rice and the “okazu” (meat and veggies) of the day.

I had the stacked bento box so the flavours wouldn’t mix. My father had the heat-capturing bento so his miso soup would stay warm until lunchtime. My mother made the food presentable and neat, sometimes with cute additions such as sausages cut in the shape of an octopus.

This tradition of homemade bento is changing. Back when many engaged in farming and rice was abundant, bento was as simple as rice in a tin with a sour plum, aptly named “hinomaru” (Japanese flag) bento. Rice balls in a box was also typical. The golden rule was that it had to taste nice served cold.

Now people love the convenience of picking up piping-hot bento meals at Japan’s ubiquitous Seven-Elevens.

Bento trucks sell cheap and hearty bento during lunchtime in the corporate districts. When a just-married salary man brings his bento from home, he may end up being teased by his colleagues. The term “aisai” bento, meaning “Loving Wife” boxed lunch, has become a bit of a legend.

But the nation’s love affair with bento is deep-rooted. When you take the bullet train, you notice every station sells “ekiben” (station bento), its own “specialty” bento box packed with nutritious regional flavours. When mothers need to put food on the table after a long day at work, they pick up artfully packed bento boxes from the department stores. I look back and think about what my mother used to do for us every morning. How did she do it?