TOKYO, July 17 — My first encounter with authentic okonomiyaki was at a backstreet restaurant in Harajuku, Tokyo during a family holiday. Led by a friend, a Tokyo native, we sat at wooden tables fitted with hotplate in the centre and proceeded to practise what we had seen of teppanyaki chefs at work: A little chopping and a little patting with the provided flat spatulas, and a whole lot of sizzle as the entire mixture — a batter of kombu dashi (a kelp-based stock) thickened with grated nagaimo (mountain yam) combined with shredded cabbage, green onions and meat — was poured onto the hot surface and cooked into a thick pancake.
Okonomiyaki is often described as such and is also popularly known as Japanese pizza, although it contains no melted cheese nor does it have a tomato sauce base. The comparison is perhaps more due to its final appearance — topped with liberal douses of mayonnaise, okonomiyaki sauce (a combination of ketchup, Worchestershire and soy sauce), sprinkles of bonito and seaweed flakes, both have a similar aesthetic appeal.
This, I later learned, is known as Kansai-style okonomiyaki that is traced to Osaka, whereby everything goes onto the hotplate at the same time. The restaurant we dined at was Sakura-Tei, one of Tokyo’s most recommended spots for okonomiyaki, where options include elements of international cuisine, such as the Mexican-influenced Spicy Yaki that contains salami and jalapeño.
Sakura-Tei is quite a study in contrast; its black and white signboard suggests a minimalist approach while the short walkway leading to its entrance is flanked by tall bamboo trees, altogether a picture of Zen and serenity that suggests an upscale, formal Japanese restaurant. Step in and immediately you’re reminded that you are in Harajuku after all, as walls in the main dining area and cosy private rooms are covered in vibrant graffiti-style art that were hand-painted by artist collective Design Festa. It’s smokey and noisy with an energetic vibe that’s not unlike Osaka itself, and adds flavour to the whole cook-it-yourself experience.
Japan’s other famous okonomiyaki style hails from Hiroshima, where the humble everything-goes pancake played a part in the city’s revival after the world’s first atomic bombing, in 1945. Bit by bit, Hiroshima rebuilt itself by not only restoring essential infrastructure and public facilities, but also reigniting hope among its people by bringing back colour and life to the city via arts, culture and of course, food.
Stalls began popping up selling okonomiyaki, which was derived from a popular traditional snack known as issen yoshoku or “Western food for one sen.” It combined imported white flour, nicknamed American flour or Merikenko, with vegetables and meat that was then cooked on a hotplate.
Okonomiyaki remains a must-eat in Hiroshima, and there’s even a village dedicated to it. At least, it is a village by name though in reality, Okonomi-mura is a narrow multi-level building near Hondori Shopping Street. Spread out over three floors are 25 small restaurants that are little more than low stools surrounding square-shaped hotplate counters, all offering almost identical menus of Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki with a variety of toppings.
So how does it differ from Kansai’s offerings? The recipe is the same but Hiroshima takes a different cooking approach in that the ingredients are cooked layer by layer. First, a small amount of batter is ladled onto the sizzling plate to form a thin pancake. Then a small mountain of shredded raw cabbage (about three times that of Kansai’s recipe!) is piled on top, followed by the customer’s chosen protein — anything from pork belly to seafood. The latter is usually cooked separately before being added to the mound.
The whole pile is then turned over to cook on the other side. Meanwhile, if you have opted for a modan-yaki variant that includes noodles (typically a choice between soba, udon and yellow noodles), that is also cooked separately before being added to the rest of the ingredients.
The okonomiyaki chef will then fry an egg, breaking the yolk while it cooks on the pan and spread it out to form a circle. The pancake and its mound of cabbage and protein is flipped over again, and then the noodles and egg are stacked on top. A thick layer of okonomiyaki sauce is then brushed over, followed by a dusting of seaweed flakes and a handful of chopped green onions.
Another thing that differentiates Hiroshima’s specialty from its Kansai counterpart is the inclusion of ikaten, flat and rectangular pieces of deep-fried battered squid. These are sold in packets at supermarkets and convenience stores as a snack not unlike potato chips. Sandwiched among the okonomiyaki’s multiple ingredients, the ikaten’s crispy skin softens to a enjoyably chewy consistency. It’s a small detail that adds another element of umami to the dish.
Compared to Kansai’s version, Hiroshima’s take certainly makes for a more hefty meal but a very balanced one at that, given the amount of vegetables. While I enjoyed Sakura-Tei’s cook-your-own concept, I found Hiroshima’s more gratifying in terms of taste.
Okonomi-mura is hard to beat when it comes to variety but it is a fuss-free place with little to offer ambience-wise. At the other end of Hondori, just around the corner from the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, tourist favourite Nagata-ya delivers a surprisingly authentic encounter. Dine amidst homey, rustic Showa period-inspired interiors while the young kitchen crew flip up a storm on the hotplates and display their deft knife skills, turning heads of cabbages into fine julienne in no time. The chefs are generous with the ingredients and take their time to ensure that those that need to be cooked separately are properly crisped, giving the okonomiyaki a mild but satisfying smoky flavour.
Before I left the city, I had time to sit down for one more okonomiyaki lunch, at Asse department store that adjoins the JR Hiroshima station. Their food hall on the sixth floor houses more than 10 restaurants and at least half are okonomiyaki specialists. Arriving at lunch hour and hungry, I skipped the most popular outlets as the lines were long and opted for one that offered immediate seating, plus an English menu.
The proprietors speak practically no English, however, so ordering was by pointing and then it was just a matter of patiently waiting. To my left were businessmen in suits and working women in smart work wear while on my right, a gaggle of schoolgirls were sharing plates.
There’s something inherently comforting about sitting bar-style at a long counter table with local and equally hungry strangers while watching your lunch or dinner being cooked, layer by layer, right in front of you. No one else spoke English at that joint, but everyone was tucking into the same enjoyment. Food, after all, is a universal language and in okonomiyaki-speak, its name can’t be more appropriate: In Japanese, okonomi means favourite while yaki means to fry.
Sakura-Tei
3 Chome-20-1, Jingumae, Shibuya, Tokyo
Opens 11am-midnight daily
www.sakuratei.co.jp/en/index.html
Okonomiyaki-mura (Okonomiyaki Village)
5-13 Shintenchi, Naka-ku, Hiroshima
Opens 11am-10pm; some restaurants may operate at different hours
www.okonomimura.jp/foreign/english.html
Nagata-Ya
Shigeishi Building 1F, 1-7-19, Otemachi, Naka-ku, Hiroshima
http://nagataya-okonomi.com/en/
Asse
2-37 Matsubara-cho, Minami-ku
(JR Hiroshima station)
Opens 11am-11pm daily
If she had to live on just one type of cuisine, Vivian Chong would pick Japanese in a heartbeat. Read her other travel and food adventures at http://thisbunnyhops.com/
