Gotta jot this down before I forget…
Rian’s Really Good Okonomiyaki
Firstly, I have to say that this is going to require a trip to the Japanese market. Even the “Asian” market isn’t going to cut it. Nagaimo is something like taro root. You grate it up, and it makes something slimy and disgusting, but okonomiyaki is pretty lifeless without it. You also need okonomiyaki sauce, aonori (a kind of powdered seaweed), and katsuobushi (shaved dried, fermented, and smoked bonito flakes). You might also want the official mayo of Japan– Kewpie. It comes in a good bottle for squeezing onto things and it’s not as sweet as American mayo. Find these items. You NEED them. Find someone who lives in civilization to send you some.
I’ve experienced many variations on the okonomiyaki– from our favorite Don Don Yaki in Japan to nasty plaster-like improvised versions made without the stuff I just said you need. So, I’m not just being a dick and saying “oh, I’m so cool, I know what katsuobushi is…” I’m not JUST doing that. I’m doing that, but I’m also telling the truth that you should get these things.
- 2-3″ nagaimo, grated. They also sell a powdered version. Hell, for that matter, they sell a powdered okonomiyaki mix with most of this stuff in it. Why not just buy a frozen pizza?! Jesus, you people.
- 2 oz. flour (I use King Arthur’s white whole wheat)
- 3 Tbsp. dashi (recipe below, but you can use the powdered stuff)
- 1 large egg
- 1 Tbsp beni shouga (red pickled ginger, kind of optional, but I like it in there)
- 2 Tbsp chopped negi (green onions, also kind of optional)
- 2 Tbsp tenkasu (originally, fried tempura batter leftovers, but you can buy it in bags at Japanese food stores)
- 1 c. chopped cabbage
- A couple slices of pork belly/bacon/some octopus/shrimp/whatever else floats yer boat. I’m gonna try chopping up some little dried sardines next time. How about corn? Sure!
- Mix the flour, dashi (more on this in a bit), egg, and nagaimo into a nice smooth batter. Some people put in a bit of baking powder here, too, but it doesn’t seem to be necessary given the relative unimportance of the flour as much more than a binder.
- Fold in the other stuff (except the pork and toppings, of course). You just need to coat the coarser ingredients. Don’t beat the heck out of it.
- Smear a pan with oil, get it relatively hot (maybe medium), and dump yer batter into a nice 8″ or so circle.
- If you’re going to put pork on it (sorta seems to be the standard, at least where I lived in Kobe), lay some 2-3″ slices on top now. Brush them with a little remaining batter from the bowl, lest they get very stiff.
- Cover the whole thing, and let it steam for ~5 minutes. The pork should look like it’s started to cook when you’re done.
- Now… be one with the pancake, imagine it already flipped… see it… in your mind… QUICK! TAKE TWO SPATULAS AND FLIP IT OVER! DON’T HESITATE! WE ARE ALL ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE!!!
- How’d that go?
- OK, clean up the mess… try to make it look like one thing again in the pan…
- You’ll get it.
- Do not smash down on it with your spatula like you’re cooking a hamburger. For that matter, don’t do that when you’re making a hamburger.
- Cook what’s left until it’s good and brown on the bottom, another 5 minutes, maybe, but keep an eye on it… and… oh boy… get your spatulas out again…
- One with the pancake… mind’s eye… flip!
- Assuming there’s anything in the pan anymore, brush the whole thing with okonomiyaki sauce. Draw a criss-cross pattern on it with Kewpie mayo. Sprinkle aggressively with aonori (powdered seaweed). Lastly, sprinkle a handful of katsuobushi over the top.
- Eat until you’re 80% full.
Dashi: There’s stuff in a jar or can called “dashi no moto”. If you are a glutton for punishment, like I am, though, you’ll want to make your own dashi. It’s pretty easy. Get some kombu seaweed at the Japanese market (ask/look for the dashi kind), put about 4 c. of water into a pan, stick a 4-8″ chunk of the kombu in. Stick a big handful of katsuobushi in there. I also put in a few dried shiitake in for good measure. Bring the whole thing almost to a boil (but not quite– boiling the kombu apparently brings out some nasty bitterness). Let it simmer for 5-10 minutes or so… then strain the liquid into a jar. You can keep the chunks for a lighter “second dashi” if you have any desire to do that for something where the flavor’s less important. You basically just do this over again with the same pieces.
Yeah, no pictures again, sorry. Shizuokagourmet’s blog has a pretty good picture:



Green onions …optional? The heck you say!
Still, making your own hondashi is pretty hardcore I s’pose.
Me, I’m a okonomiyaki-mix user mostly. I thrown in chunks of cheese too sometimes if the truth be known. Hey! We dined on okonomiyaki in Kobe one night, right?
My high maintainence o-Jo-sama gf said you two told her how difficult I was
when I went to the can. Boy, did that turn out to be ironic!
But I digress. The okonomiyaki restaurant is a gas in itself, hey what. Someone’s got to have their shit together about making it or the whole table suffers. Not sure if that could fly in the US, heh.
Ahh.. Nippon. Natsukashii ja nai desu ka?
Hey… looky there! A comment!
Yah, I find the mix to be a bit… err… mushy? Indistinct, flavor-wise? Haven’t tried the cheese thing, tho I’ve heard others do that. My guess is that it kind of serves the same purpose as the nagaimo for gooiness factor.
Actually, turns out that if you add too much nagaimo, well, let’s just say there’s such a thing as too much. Had it at L&Js while I was there last, and it was too much and too coarse. Kinda added an unnecessary weirdness to the whole thing.
Can’t believe that anyone would call you difficult. I’d say she made that up. I say that. She made that up.
Yeah, now and then, I have those natsukashii moments, but I tell ya… learning to make all this stuff does a good job to alleviate that. The food was one of the best parts. And the train. And no crime. And everyone being polite. And the scenery.