Masayoshi and Haruko Yoshikawa (79 and 73) deliver milk and yogurt to homes in Tokyo's shitamachi (downtown). Every morning, except Sundays, the two make their rounds carrying dozens of old-fashioned, small glass bottles of Meiji milk to their faithful customers, many of whom have been drinking it daily from the time when Masayoshi was a toddler delivering with his father. While Masayoshi hops on and off his bicycle in front of apartment buildings, Haruko zigzags on foot from one alley to the next, dodging plants, cats and parked bicycles, as the two take away empty milk bottles from boxes placed outside entrance doors and leave fresh ones behind. With bottles clinking in sync, they circle the neighborhood, delivering a healthy dose of dairy calm for everyone.

Haruko: You can't go wrong if you follow the advice of good people. The monk in my village was looking for someone to work in his friend's meat shop in Tokyo and he thought that I would be perfect for the job. I was 16 and Tokyo sounded very exotic. I said yes. We prepared croquettes and curry rice and I delivered them to a bank. I cooked miso soup and rice there and served it to all the bank employees. We chatted while they ate and I got lots of chocolates as gifts. After lunch, I washed up and went back to the shop. Later on I worked as a dishwasher in a cafeteria. I loved both those jobs. Life in Tokyo was better than I expected.

Masayoshi: My parents were running a busy milk-delivery business and a milk hall. Back then, elderly relatives would try to set up young couples. One day we were introduced. We drank tea and chatted with my parents and the matchmaker. It was fun because Haruko was so talkative. I had no doubts about her because back then marriage proposals came with an almost 100 percent guarantee of success. Matchmakers investigated everything, from family dynamics to personalities ? even what kind of food we liked.