As Ive mentioned in my bio on our About Page, I spent several months studying abroad in Japan. I saw many a sight there, of course, but one memory in particular sticks out. Towards the end of my time in Tokyo, my English students came together to introduce me to a dish I still miss to this day. In my time there Id come to recognize many iconic Japanese restaurantsthe huge, round tables for Hibachi cooking, the long sushi bars staffed with busy men shouting Irashaemase! to anyone who entered, the endless drinks and bar food of nomi- and tabehodaibut this place was different. There were griddles, yes, but they were on long, low tables, and only one chef stood behind the bar (which had its own griddle). Where the heck was I?
What kind of batter would you like? One of my students asked.
Batter?
For your okonomiyaki.
I let them choose for me and watched, entranced, as the waiter brought a dark bowl of batter. Shrimp, shredded bacon, and strips of cabbage were mixed in; the whole mess was poured on the griddle and the smell set off the must eat signal in my brain. Sipping plum wine, we shaped and flipped the cooking mess with little spatulas, then cut and...
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