M. Night Shyamalan’s ‘Okonomimura’: The Okonomiyaki Village

Picture this. You’ve grown ravenous, bordering on feral, from the previous night’s drinking festivities in Hiroshima. 13 Sapporo draft beerus is the limit, you’ve tested it thrice over, just to make sure. You stumble outside of your hotel right off Hondori Shopping Street to a pitch black night sky and take a deep breath (like Frank in the ending scene of Nicholas Winding Refn’s ‘Pusher’). You put your head down and veer down a back alley, only to be confronted by a gaggle of grotesque monsters in red robes. 

A robe slips off one of them. Only this time they aren’t the village elders attempting to create a bizarro-world 19th century enclave to protect you from the outside world. They are hulking, menacing, behemoth…grilled wheat flour pancakes stuffed silly with cabbage, yakisoba noodles, and seafood, topped with a fistful of green scallions, Japanese mayonnaise (for some), and descendent of Worcestershire sauce.

[The screen cuts to black]

M. Night Shyamalan presents his newest iteration of a cult classic, ‘Okonomimura – The Okonomiyaki Village’.

This is not a review of any one restaurant in particular – although I will write briefly about the okonomiyaki spot I ate at Okonomimura – rather, it’s a general breakdown of this incredible four-floor labyrinth of a Hiroshima (and Kansai region) staple. You really can’t go wrong with whatever spot you end up in. Just get here. Seriously. Start walking now.

But first, what exactly is okonomiyaki?

An Okonomiyaki Primer

Literally translating to “grill as you like,” okonomiyaki is a popular Japanese pancake dish made with wheat flour and cooked on a teppan (flat griddle – think Waffle House). Okonomiyaki is typically mixed together (or layered) with shredded cabbage, yakisoba (fried noodles), meat, seafood (octopus, squid, shrimp), and eggs, and topped with Japanese mayonnaise and a variation of Worcestershire sauce, green onions, and bonito flakes or nori (dried seaweed). 

If you can dream it, you can put it in or on okonomiyaki. 

Some people refer to this as “Japanese pizza” but I personally find that a slap in the face to both pizza and okonomiyaki – this is its own, entirely novel beast that deserves gastronomic honor and reverence. However, if I did have to compare it to another country’s cuisine, I would say that it resembles a thicker French crepe rather than pizza. It is also similar in thickness and ingredients (mainly just the egg) to the Chinese oyster omelet/pancake. 

Don’t be misled though, okonomiyaki has been around since before my great great great grand uncle Samuel Chase emphatically sang (and suggested) that “Someone ought to open up a window!” (‘1776’ is one of the G.O.A.T.’ed musicals out there), tracing its roots all the way back to the 16th century (where the term ‘funoyaki’ was used to refer to a thin crepe-like pancake). 

However, the term ‘okonomiyaki’ wasn’t actually used until the 1930s in Osaka. Where one of the two different styles of okonomiyaki originated.

Kansai vs. Hiroshima Okonomiyaki

When it comes to okonomiyaki, there are two schools of thought: the Kansai school and the Hiroshima school. I’m thankful I spent the bulk of my time in the Kansai region and over a week in Hiroshima and got to know both of these styles somewhat intimately (not like that, you freak). 

Most people who have eaten okonomiyaki are familiar with the Kansai variety, as this is by far the most popular. It is made with flour, a Chinese yam, dashi or water, eggs, shredded cabbage, and assorted fillings and toppings. These ingredients are mixed together (this is important to remember here) before being prepared similarly to how one would a pancake – the batter and ingredients grilled on both sides (on the teppan grill) and subsequently cut with a metal spatula (called a “hera” or “trowel”) to serve.

While Hiroshima okonomiyaki may not be the most prominent across Japan, it is what I would consider the official okonomiyaki capital of the country – boasting over 2,000 okonomiyaki restaurants (more than anywhere else in Japan). Unlike Kansai-style okonomiyaki which is mixed together before grilling, Hiroshima okonomiyaki is layered, with two of those layers typically being yakisoba (fried noodles) and pork. In my experience, yakisoba seemed to be a key differentiator between the two as well.

Hiroshima okonomiyaki also uses, on average, four times the amount of shredded cabbage used in Kansai-style okonomiyaki, which is gradually smashed down with the trowel as it cooks. This was definitely noticeable as it was typically much later in the night that I’d slip into my post-okonomiyaki food coma in Hiroshima. Hiroshima also boasts a wide array of further dialed-in and stuffed okonomiyaki, including the likes of udon, ground meat, and oysters.

I also noticed that fewer restaurants in Hiroshima seemed to serve okonomiyaki topped with mayonnaise – or it was just that they had so many variations on the menu that I was able to seamlessly navigate these gloppy (Get it? like choppy) waters. 

In my humble opinion, Hiroshima okonomiyaki just does it for me and is by far my favorite iteration of this Japanese classic. I think there is also a lot of palpable emotion and excitement associated with it as well as I was so enamored with Hiroshima (and coming hot off a highly tempestuous 72 hours with an ex of mine in Tokyo and Hakone). It was hope in pancake form for this Big Body.

Okonomiyaki: Emblematic of a Resilient & Industrious History

After the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945, okonomiyaki became one of the few affordable and filling staples that allowed people to feed their families with whatever they could scrounge up. There isn’t just a gastronomic significance to this food but historical and cultural significance as well. 

In Osaka, okonomiyaki rose to prominence after the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923, providing sustenance in tough times. For in-depth reading about everything okonomiyaki (including its history), I recommend checking out this encyclopedia of sorts ‘Okonomiyaki World’.

Okonomimura: the Mecca of Okonomiyaki Deliverance

• Website: http://www.okonomimura.jp/foreign/english.html 
• Location: 5-13 Shintenchi, Naka Ward, Hiroshima, 730-0034, Japan

Located just over in the east end of Hiroshima’s ‘Hondori Shopping Street’, Okonomimura is officially billed as a ‘food theme park’ – which, is that not the best phrase in the world? I can’t believe I’ve wasted my whole life going to the likes of Six Flags and Universal Studios when I could have been riding high at a food theme park. I’m not exactly sure how many food theme parks there are in Japan (or the world) but Okonomimura is ranked as Japan’s number one visited food theme park.

One great thing about going to a food theme park is I guarantee there are no size limits. 

Okonomimura is a four-floor house of wonders, consisting of over 25 okonomiyaki shops and restaurants, each with its own variation of this Hiroshima classic. However, all shops here use an okonomiyaki sauce specially created for them by Sunfoods. These four floors run deep with these savory pancake stalls and shops so you really can’t go wrong with whatever shop you end up at. 

One tip that I would have about visiting Okonomimura is that I would err on the side of arriving earlier rather than later. I actually attempted to go to Okonomimura a second night around 10:30/11 PM and found there were only a few shops that remained open. And, the ones that were open were packed with locals so there were no seats available. Window shopping is one of the best parts of going to Okonomimura so make sure to give yourself enough time to make the rounds across all four floors. 

It may seem intimidating to just waltz on up to a teppan full of okonomiyaki enthusiasts and plopping down but that’s also a formative moment (and makes you feel as if you really worked for your personalized savory pancake). Approaching each shop and asking if they had any available seats almost reminded me of a 6th-grade dance. Boys on one side, girls on the other. Working up the courage to walk over and introduce yourself, braces reflecting the ceiling light into one thousand different directions and blinding your crush Amanda. But those dances didn’t have draft Suntory Premiums flowing like the Allagash. 

Here’s a little breakdown of the spot I posted up at on the 4th floor for a seafood pancake bender of sorts – Daimarudo. There was no rhyme or reason to why I chose Daimarudo – my stomach just had already predetermined where and I trusted it.

Okonomimura Daimarudo: 4F

• Location: Japan, 〒730-0034 Hiroshima, Naka Ward, Shintenchi, 5−13 新天地プラザ 4F

Now, you probably already could have guessed but Daimarudo won me over and drew me in the second I saw a group of customers cheers-ing ice-cold Suntory Premium draft beers. I can spot a chilled mug from a mile away so my internal beeru radar must have been on point that day.

As mentioned above, I actually found Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki generally omitted Japanese mayo on top (at least at the shops that I patronized), which was perfect for me. Every okonomiyaki trip I ventured on in Osaka always yielded some minor level of anxiety knowing that this thick, white sauce was in my future. 

I ordered a ‘Deluxe’ okonomiyaki, which clocked in at around 1,400 yen (USD 10). This included squid, pork, yakisoba, cabbage (duh), egg, spring onions, and the signature okonomiyaki sauce (an ancestor of Worcestershire sauce). Watching the staff meticulously stack and pound this bad boy was one of the highlights. I lose every single Jenga match within just several turns due to these shaky hands and rapidly diminishing hand-eye coordination. 

This is a dish of many faces – like the Hindu deity Vishnu. Maybe a better reference would be that it has more flavors than James McAvoy does personalities in Split. The delicately stacked layers of shredded cabbage provide a cooling, satisfying crunch, which contrasts nicely with the slight char and heat of the bottom of the eggy pancake. The yakisoba noodles walk a thin line between crunchy and soft as it is really just dependent on where they are layered (and how they’re layered) in the pancake.

The pork, juicy. The squid, slightly sweet. The green onions, necessary for textural integrity. The signature okonomiyaki sauce, on the sweeter side and definitely less salty than its pure Worcestershire sauce predecessor. 

One of the best things about okonomiyaki is…think about it…the name… ’Grill as you like’. You can choose to eat this quickly if you want it on the ‘rarer/undercooked’ side or you can let it sit on the teppan until the cows come home if you want to crisp up the sides, cook your egg more, or char up that cabbage even more. I usually end up letting mine sit for longer, not by choice but because I usually fall prisoner to the beers and spectacle of the night.

Part of the fun is using your metal spatula to cut yourself disproportionately sized slices off your teppan. Side note: I did end up burning my hand on the teppan at least 3 times because I got sloppy after my 6th nama beeru.

Once again, it really doesn’t matter which shop you go to on Okonomimura. Just get there and go scope it out for yourself. While some okonomiyaki experts may tell you that the best okonomiyaki spots are in fact not inside Okonomimura, I would probably concede as I’m not one myself. But Okonomimura is an experience. It’s a feeling. It’s a community. And it’s a damn good savory pancake in my books. 

There is No Shyamalan Twist at This Okonomiyaki VIllage

If you couldn’t already tell, I completely made up that script and M. Night himself and his studio didn’t option it. And that’s because there is no Shyamalan twist. Okonomimura is “What you see is what you get,” and it doesn’t turn out to be a ghost like Bruce Willis at the end of The Sixth Sense. It’s very much real – a real, thick savory pancake that is bursting with hearty, salty, sweet, crunchy, and soft ingredients. 

Hiroshima was one of the highlights of my three months in Japan. 

I found peace sitting along the river in silence, reading a favorite book of mine on a Sunday there. I found peace in Okonomimura while tossing back a few cold ones and destroying my Leaning Tower of Pisa pancake. I found peace strapping the cardboard face mask of Hiroshima Carp’s Takashi Uemoto to my face and cheering in unison with the most vociferous fans in all of the Nippon Professional Baseball League. And I found peace at The Peace Memorial Museum (a mandatory visit for anyone visiting Hiroshima) seeing unprecedented resilience and optimism for the future in the aftermath of arguably the single most destructive event humanity has ever experienced.

One thing that caught me off guard is that Hiroshima seems to be heavily pushed online as a short day or weekend trip. It reminded me of my stay in Mostar, Bosnia, a city that most people seem to write off as not capable of “entertaining them” for more than a day. Don’t write Hiroshima off for an extended stay. I couldn’t get enough of it and pushed my stay back from just two days to eight – and would have stayed longer if it wasn’t my last two weeks in Japan.  

If you made your way to Okonomimura while you were in Hiroshima, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Let me know which shop you went to and what your experience was like. I’d also love to hear about your time in Hiroshima.

Eat well everyone,

Big Body