The Okonomiyaki Experience (aka Okonomi-whodat?)

A couple weeks ago, Erik and I went to an okonomiyaki restaurant (pronounced oko-nomee-ahkee). Essentially it means "grill what you like". It's like a pancake batter with anything you want mixed in and then you grill it on your table. And it's not Aunt Jemima stuff: There are no blueberries or chocolate chips. Syrup and whip cream are but a dream.

Common items to mix in are cabbage, shrimp, corn, octopus, rib meat, etc. There is an exponential amount of combos displayed in the huge picture menu. It has about 20 pages, with a cartoon raccoon-dog to guide you along the way. A bit overwhelmed, I picked one that appears to be veggies and shrimp – it's just too hard to differentiate what type of meat you are getting from the small photos. Erik of course picks the one that appears to have the most amount of meat.

They heat up the grill on your table when you first sit down – by the time they bring your food in its little mixing bowl, the grill is hot and ready to go. Be careful. The grill is very hot. Like, "Umm, wow, I can't believe that small children eat at this restaurant" hot.

So you mix up your goo in its bowl and drop it on the grill. And then you wait. Once you have grilled it and flipped it and waited in anticipation, you find the pancake itself is just "okay." Nothing more, nothing less: Just okay. There aren't any seasonings in the batter or on the mix-ins so it's rather bland when you eat it as-is. That's why they give you a huge squeeze bottle of mayo and a box of fish flakes to sprinkle on top. The Japanese absolutely love mayonnaise, in a take-it-behind-the-school-and-get-it-pregnant kind of way. Erik and I found solace in a nearby jar of soy sauce that we used for dipping.

If visiting, be prepared to eat at an okonomiyaki joint with us. Not for the taste, but for the novelty...