The lump of dough in the large mixing bowl in front of me doesn't look like much, but soba-making instructor Hatuko Tokutake isn't concerned.

"You have to knead it at least 150 times," she coaches me, confident in her 10 years experience as a soba maker. "Then you will see it start to take shape."

Under her patient guidance, I work my hands through the fine buckwheat flour so famous in this region, taking turns with my husband and fellow soba devotee Paul. Several long minutes later, Tokutake nods her approval at our efforts, and we slap the dough down on the large wooden cutting board nearby. Before we roll it out, however, she stops to make sure we understand the technique.