Nonetheless, nasu farming continues to thrive largely as a family-oriented operation. In fact, farming seems to be one of the more gender balanced jobs around, as both men and women find equal opportunity in its practice. Of the 68,762 people that engaged in Kochi's farming industry in 2000, 36,068 were men and 32,694 were women. It is not uncommon for husband and wife to work side by side, with grandparents often lending a helping hand or two.

He leaves me with some words of nasu wisdom, as he tells me the "three k's" of farming: kitsui, kitanai, and kiken. In short, it is difficult, dirty and dangerous. The latter attributed to the use of tractors and other heavy farming machinery. And maybe bees.

As I prepare to leave, Mr. Nishiyama and his wife have settled onto overturned crates in their garage, where they sit facing each other as they separate the nasu according to quality. I gather my things and survey the scene around me - the outline of the greenhouses in the darkening night sky, the ubiquitous white farmer's truck parked on the driveway, the quiet sorting of nasu by husband and wife. It may not be the stuff of epic heroes like the Ryomas of years past, but there is a respectful certitude in this way of living that also plays a part in Kochi's lore.