Recettear gets (or got, when it was new) a lot of press for its innovative concept: you're not the adventurer; you run the item shop. Many other reviews will happily note the joys and shortcomings of this system; I'll leave you to peruse those. What no one points out is that Recettear passes the Bechdel test in its very first cutscene, and constantly throughout play, even with a cast that includes a lot of men.

This is the story of a preteen girl (Recette) whose father has run off to be an adventurer, leaving her responsible for a massive debt he incurred. Tear, the fairy in charge of collecting the money, informs Recette that if she can't pay off the debt, her house will be seized as collateral, leaving her both parentless and homeless. But Tear is willing to help her pay off the debt by converting the house into an item shop. Though Recette has never worked a day in her life, she accepts the challenge and--with the player's guidance, of course--becomes a successful and respected businesswoman.

That's actually quite an empowering story. One reason it's not generally called out as such is that the narrative is presented so lightheartedly, with hilarious dialogue from everyone. Recette herself is so eccentrically cheerful that she can't stay depressed for long even in the face of financial hardship: once it's clear that Tear is giving her a fair chance, she charges in enthusiastically. It's actually surprisingly moving at the end of the shop's first day, after Recette sells one cheap loaf of bread to her first customer as part of the game's tutorial. She pauses a moment to observe: "I sold stuff. To people." in the awestruck way that people do when they realize they've succeeded at something that seemed completely outside their powers.

As noted, this game passes the Bechdel Test constantly. It helps that Tear and Recette's first several conversations concern the founding and running of the shop. Every conversation that forms the tutorial also qualifies, including that first real sale, which is to a self-described housewife. In all of Day One, the only conversations that don't qualify are the parts directly mentioning Recette's father, and their excursion to talk to the Guild Master, who provides more information on the game's mechanics.

But even as the game progresses, the cast remains at a near-even split between male and female NPCs. Recette gains a rival in the form of a spoiled "rich bitch" who has her own fairy assistant. Recette makes the acquaintance of several male and female adventurers and customers, and Recette's and Tear's frequent observations of their friends are split just as well between these halves of the cast.

I've never seen anyone go into depth on this aspect of the game.

I do sometimes see reviews point out the game's general aesthetic as something you either love or hate. This is a fair assessment: if you just don't like cheerful anime, you won't like the look of this game. Maybe people perceive the female-heavy cast as just "part of the aesthetic". It's not exactly a secret that the two protagonists are women, so maybe everyone assumes that if you got so far as to consider playing the game, it must be a non-issue for you. Maybe those who like the game keep it quiet, fearing on some level that harping on this particular merit will drive some players away. Still, the game certainly deserves a place in any collection dedicated to games with strong female presence, even if it hasn't really been billed as such.

As a postscript: Recettear also should score highly on accessibility for the Deaf, because all its information is conveyed visually, with a lot of text. You'd miss some menu-feedback noises, but there is absolutely nothing in the game proper that is conveyed entirely through sound. (One could argue that vending machines announce purchases only with their cash-register sound, but this is not quite accurate: your available funds go up at the same time, and with or without the noise, you have to check the machine afterwards to see which item was purchased.) Even the Japanese song lyrics during the end credits are thoughtfully subtitled for English readers.