Mini Stop One-Handed Okonomiyaki (product information)

For those who don't know what okonomiyaki is, it's what is often referred to as a "savory pancake", though I've often seen it as more akin to a floury omelette. This is a very poor translation as it tends to be a much messier and complicated mess than a pancake. The idea that a convenience store can craft a version that you can eat with one hand is not so much revolutionary or evolutionary as de-evolutionary. I can't see this as anything but a step backward in food craft, and the description of this specimen only supports my sense of this.

The image above this paragraph is from a box of Osaka okinomiyaki sembei that I reviewed in the past. That is what okonomiyaki usually looks like and you can see that it's a complex affair which in no way resembles the slab of substances above with an egg on top.

The Mini Stop version touts its fluffy texture as well as the fact that there are wieners mixed into the dough. Wieners. I'm no expert in okonomiyaki, and I know that there are tons of regional versions, but I've never heard anyone talk about wieners in their Japanese pancake. They also mention that cabbage, bonito, and sausage (all flavored with soy sauce) are a part of their handheld abmonination.

Honestly, the whole thing as a food item doesn't sound that bad. In fact, it does seem that it has potential to be a unique savory option which would be good for a quick morning meal as long as you didn't care about your cholesterol levels. As handheld okonomiyaki, well, it's kind of like selling pizza rolls as if they were actually pizza.

Glico Hiroshima-yaki Pretz

Recently, I went a little crazy buying vegetables. Yes, I'm one of those freaks of nature who actually enjoys them and going overboard set me up for days and days of eating eggplant, spinach, brussel sprouts, lettuce, and tomatoes (not all in one horrible salad) before they went bad. The truth is that there are few vegetables that I don't enjoy in one form or another... except peas.

Why has the pea been placed into veggie exile in my mind? It's not because of the taste necessarily. I'm not a fan of the texture, but I'm mainly thinking of canned peas and not fresh ones. I hate peas because my mother tried to force me to eat them when I was a child. When I think of them, I think of being forced to sit at the kitchen table with a plate of them in front of me. I played a power game with my mother on that day and I won. She and the peas both lost.

So, a lot of our food preferences are about taste, but some are about experience. I should probably give peas another chance, but then they (and my mother if she found out) would "win" and I'm not going to surrender my victory no matter how much time has passed. Okonomiyaki, the Japanese "pizza", "pancake", "omelet" or pile-of-stuff-that-looks-like-barf -(whatever you want to call it ) has a similar negative memory associated with it. If you don't want to read the linked post for the story, I'll say that I hate the connection between idiot school girls and okonomiyaki more than I dislike the taste of the actual dish.

Fortunately, I don't connect Pretze with school girls of any kind so I was willing to try out this "Hiroshima-yaki" with a picture of okonomiyaki on the front variety. Apparently, the Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki has a layer of yaki-soba noodles as well as bean sprouts, omelets, eggs, onions, and other typical ingredients. Incidentally, this is a "regional" Pretz. Yes, there are those just like there are regional KitKats.

I suspected when I bought this that it wasn't going to possess a rich flavor depth that included all of the involved ingredients. Pretz is, after all, a pretzel dusted with flavored salt. I don't think they carefully integrate seasoning into the dough before they bake the pretzels, but rather just use different flavoring on their basic pretzel. And, I was right. This has a light dusting of seasoning that gives it a mild okonomi sauce (that's the brown goo that is on top of the pancakes) flavor and not a whole lot else. It's got a little hint of Worchestershire sauce and soy and not nearly enough salt. The pretzel itself has a nice quality which is fresh and light, but nothing really to get too excited about.

If you are scared of something exotic, but want to fool yourself into thinking you're being adventurous with food, this is a great choice. It's a bit expensive for a fairly basic pretzel (I paid about $1.50 for this) and only worth it for the novelty factor. While I thought this was fine, I certainly wouldn't buy it again because it's just not that remarkable.

Osaka Okonomiyaki Sembei

I have only been to Osaka once during my stay in Japan. In fact, a lot of people who ask me what cities I've been to here keep telling me I need to see more of them. I've been to Kobe, Osaka, Nikko, and of course all of the cities surrounding Tokyo and have investigated more nooks and crannies of Tokyo than the vast majority of Japanese folks. In fact, my husband and I went to Kappabashi several weeks ago and every Japanese person I told asked me why I went there. Kappabashi is known as "kitchen town" because it sells plastic food and restaurant supplies, but few Japanese people look into it.

My point is that I see no reason why one city or place has particular value over another, particularly when most people visit a city only to drop in at a particular shrine which resembles pretty much every other shrine and eat food at a restaurant which is the same general type of food that they eat in Tokyo and maybe go to a hot spring or walk around a park. I ask people why they think okonomiyaki, a sort of savory pancake which the kitchen sink is heaped onto, is different in Osaka as compared to Tokyo and the answers I get are pretty weak - the ingredients taste better because they are fresher. I'm pretty sure there is some variation, but I'm also pretty sure it's the type of thing only the most exquisitely refined palate can detect.

All of this is my roundabout way of saying I didn't buy these souvenir crackers because I haven't been to Osaka in ages, and I wouldn't choose these if I were to go again. Mind you, I liked Osaka when I visited, but I'm not going to pick up something which looks like someone barfed on a cracker and petrified it. In particular, I'm not going to go for something which smells incredibly fishy and talks about how it has mayonnaise. Mayonnaise is a friend of mine, mind you, and I enjoy it in moderation, but in Japan you never know if it's going to dominate whatever you are eating.

In the case of this cracker, it's the fishiness which offended my tongue. I don't have a problem with fish in general, but I don't like things which are fishy in flavor and that's where a lot of the taste of this dominates. The little colorful bits of what I presume may be vegetables appear to be largely ornamental and the mayo isn't an overbearing influence but is there.

I'm sure there are people with tastes that are suited to this cracker. I'm simply not one of them. I appreciate the gift, and the fact that these are made to resemble the food they're meant to taste like, but they're just not my type of thing.