Flipping Okonomiyaki Causes Panic

Lawson serves cold melon.

New Days continues its Sugo Onigiri Series with the Okonomiyaki Onigiri. Okonomiyaki is a savory pancake made with simple ingredients: flour, cabbage, and egg. The maker then adds whatever she likes, which is what “okonomiyaki” means, “whatever you like.” Common additions include mochi, kimchi, cheese, bonito, mayo, pork, and shrimp. There is no right way to do it. 

New Days’ Okonomiyaki Sugo Onigiri

But there are two styles. The Osaka or Kansai style mixes everything into a batter, while the Hiroshima style neatly layers everything and adds noodles. 

Hiroshima style on the left, Kansai style on the right.

New Days’ Sugo Onigiri has miniaturized the savory pancake and stuffed it with the most common mix-ins: tempura bits, nori, pickled ginger, and bonito. A healthy blob of mayo glues it all to a rice ball. 

Okonomiyaki is a popular dish throughout Japan. It’s great fun to eat out with a group of friends. At many restaurants, patrons do the cooking at a large table that doubles as a griddle. Few things are more enjoyable than drinking draft lager while cackling with friends over a hot iron plate cluttered with cabbage pancakes.

This is very fun.

While I do not know okonomiyaki’s origin story, it’s the sort of dish a stoned vegetarian would invent. Three bong hits into the evening, and he can feel his stomach collapsing. His food pouch grumbling like a diesel engine calling out for hearty snacks. But there is only a half head of cabbage and two eggs in the fridge and a nearly empty bag of flour in the pantry. 

He’s too far gone to wonder whether the sloppy mix will taste any good. He’s triaged his hunger as PRIORITY. He figures some sweet and salty brown sauce will take care of the rest. 

After pouring the shredded cabbage, a bit of flour and cracking one egg into a bowl, the hunt begins. What else could go in here? The answer is “anything.” 

Cheese – why not? Kimchi – who doesn’t like a spicy, funky kick? Mochi – there’s nothing better than chewing cud until your jaw breaks. Leftover tempura crunchy bits – oh, hell yeah. 

He works the rubber spatula into a slow circle, the animal hunger quickly arousing it to a feverish whirl until it homogenizes into a sticky, sloppy mess. 

At last, dinner is ready to cook!

He dumps it all into a hot pan glistening with oil. The aroma is…fine. Bubbles start to pop at the edges and then the middle. It’s ready to flip. 

“Dear god, how am I meant to flip this sticky, sloppy mess?” 

He reaches for the rosary beads he’s never owned. It’s time to pray. 

He slips the spatula just under the right side’s edge. A whiff of smoke emerges, a haunting whisper telling him there’s no time left. Flip the damn pancake!

His nerves are shattered, and his hand starts to shake. 

There is no food left in the apartment. A failed flip will leave him balled up on the tatami, hunger wrenching his guts until he breaks and orders a 4000 yen pizza from Pizza-La. 

Every self-critical, maddening memory gushes into his brain. Mrs. Yamamoto correcting his 語 kanji in front of the class; Mr. Tawada moving him from third base to right field; his mother telling him to stop playing those damn games or he’ll never find a wife or job. 

The shaking won’t stop. The spatula rattles on the pan, crying out for help. 

The smoke blackens. There really is no time left. Either he flips now, or he’s left with a charred, crippled pancake, blacker than the first step beyond the event horizon. 

He steels his nerves and grips the spatula so fiercely that the blood leaves his fingers. In one swift motion, he lifts the savory pancake and turns it over four inches off the pan while a lifetime of anger swells out his throat, “FUCK YOU, MR. TAWADA!!!!” 

The pancake lands. Two bits of cabbage scatter. Otherwise, it’s a clean landing. 

His knees buckle, and he stumbles backward into the wall. He gulps air like it’s his first taste of water after two days in the desert. 

It’s over. 

After a few minutes, he slides the firmed-up pancake onto a plate. One last scavenge ends with a flourish of bonito and nori. Then, he takes Kewpie Mayo and Bull Dog sauce in each hand, hovers them over the target, and squeezes until his dinner is soaked. 

Without knowing it, his first bite begins a culinary tradition.

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Item of the Week

Lawson has released a melon ice cream bar as part of its premier Uchi Café dessert series. While melon is ostensibly boring, Japanese melon is spectacular. 

For years, melon growers have pursued the perfect melon. Because the limit is unknown, the chase never stops. Consequently, a bite of raw Japanese melon is one of the best bites of food you can enjoy. In fact, expensive kaiseki meals commonly end with a melon slice for dessert. For the uninitiated, it can be disappointing. Two hours of sitting on tatami while enjoying technically perfect food leaves you anxious for a spectacular dessert. When bare fruit arrives, it’s shocking: “I paid 20,000 yen for this?” 

But the first bite is pure wonder. It’s as if the flavor of every melon ever grown on earth has been stuffed inside this single slice. Sweet juice washes over your palette and sinks into your brain leaving you dumbstruck. You’ve had melon dozens or hundreds of times before. But this is the first time you’ve tasted one. 

This melon costs 30,000 yen or $190.

If you care to try a high-end Japanese melon, Rakuten has no shortage of vendors. The eye-popping prices are worth it for a once-a-year splurge. Here’s a YouTube video demonstrating the work that goes into producing these jewels. 

I doubt Lawson’s ice cream bar will cause your eyeballs to roll to the back of your head. But it’s undoubtedly refreshing. 

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Take it to the hospital.

From the Dumpster

Daily Yamazaki is cooking up a BBQ hamburg sandwich. Two hamburg patties sit alongside bacon, ketchup, Worcestershire sauce, and barbecue sauce. Broiled mayo appears to adorn everything. 

I’ve seen more appetizing sandwiches in Fallout. 

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Conbini Haiku

God, I can’t do this

Okonomiyaki flip

Pray for this pancake

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