Takoyaki Umaiya: 60 Years of Minimalist Octopus Ball Bliss (Sans-Mayo)

I loathe mayonnaise. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand more times. Mayonnaise is my kryptonite. So you can imagine I was crippled with dejection and bouts of FOMO after landing in Osaka and realizing that most major Kansai-region specialties, namely takoyaki and okonomiyaki, are topped and/or coated in this globby, abominable mixture. 

However, my heart fluttered, my palms began to sweat, and I jumped up and down while shrieking with excitement like Buddy the Elf when he heard that mall-Santa was coming the next day when I learned of ‘Takoyaki Umaiya’ – the second oldest takoyaki shop in Japan (established in 1953), serving up grilled, golden brown octopus balls sans-mayo. 

To top it all off, it was only a hop, skip, and a jump from me, right up the road from me at Tengo Nakazakidori Shopping Street, adjacent to the bustling Tenjinbashisuji Shopping Street (the longest shopping street in Osaka).

But what exactly made these popular Japanese snacks and comfort food stand out from the more Instagrammable and frequented takoyaki spots in Dotonbori (other than the omission of mayo? Everything. 

Takoyaki Umaiya: Unwavering Conviction to a Comforting Craft

• Address: 4-21 Naniwacho, Kita Ward, Osaka, 530-0022, Japan 

I spent the first few weeks of my three-month stint in Osaka, Japan working my way through several popular takoyaki and okonomiyaki spots that caught my attention on Instagram (yes, I’m a trash bag). I went through the typical rigamarole of queuing in line for twenty-plus minutes, attempting to avoid ending up in a random influencer’s travel vlog, and posing with my takoyaki in front of the famous Glico Man Running sign.

However, each time, I’d receive my takoyaki six-pack with trepidation in my stomach and heart. I’d take my first bite, offer up a fake smile to whoever I was with, internally curse myself for burning all the skin off the roof of my mouth, and wonder why I didn’t bring a can of Ebisu or Sapporo to wash away the heavy dousing of Japanese mayo (the bonito flakes can play for me any day though).

I’d relive one particularly traumatizing moment in my life from over 10 years ago when I was dating this very sweet gal and she took a bite of a tuna fish sandwich (with mayo, of course) and then immediately went in for the kiss. I recoiled in fear and things weren’t ever the same again after that.

But once again, I digress. 

From Nazakazicho to Temma: An Absolute Gastronomic Hotspot

Takoyaki Umaiya is located inside the Tengo Nakazakidori Shopping Street (check out ‘Dream on Taiga’ if you are in the mood for killer Japanese-Italian dishes), which runs East to West/vice versa from Nazakazicho to Tenjinbashisuji and Temma. It is accessible and roughly equidistant from both Nakazakicho Station and Temma Station. 

Nakazakicho to Tenjinbashisuji and Temma is my favorite stretch of earth in Japan when it comes to food and drink. It’s a culinary Goliath. And I am David. It has everything from world-class izakayas to cozy craft beer bars, all the way to roaring offal yakiniku haunts and no-nonsense ramen shops (make sure to read my guide on 21 ramen spots in Osaka!).

And, it draws far less of the usual suspects from the Dotonbori grind. If you are in Osaka and want a less-trafficked area with more dining options than you can shake a stick at, then the Nazakazicho to Temma-strip won’t steer you wrong. I promise.

Takoyaki Umaiya is both easy and difficult to miss the shop as you saunter through the hectic, snack and restaurant-packed shopping street. Look for the line-up of griddles outside and a hyper-focused mother/son combo. 

I thought that because this popular takoyaki spot has been featured in countless top ten lists, social media reels, and tourist magazines (oh, and even the Netflix show ‘Street Food’), it would be absolutely packed when I showed up (I went four times). But each time there were only several local patrons just hanging out inside. I did go during off-hours, in the mid-to-late afternoon of the week, so I would recommend doing so just to ensure that you don’t have to queue for too long – however, it is well worth the wait, if any.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: To the direct West, not too far from Umeda Station is an absolute banger of a beef katsu sando shop called ‘Kitashinchi Sand’. They have everything from unagi sandos to velvety, fluffy egg sandwiches (and everything in between). Also, feel free to message me about my top lamb yakitori spot and standing bar in the area where I attempted to set the record for most beers drank in one session – self-declared winner. My prize? A self-constructed melon bread ice cream sandwich using Family Mart ingredients that I dropped on my pillow.

Stepping into Takoyaki History

When you step into Umaiya Takoyaki, you are stepping back into a ‘1960s time capsule’. Like the piping takoyaki balls they serve up, the interior decor is minimalist. 

It almost reminds me of the classrooms you would see in old 1950s and 1960s movies – plain wood paneling and dividers, cream-colored walls, and incorrectly sized tile sidings. The lights, overly bright yet still not illuminating the entire room, almost how I picture it when I receive my first anal probe from the Aliens after they make their way over from Xenu Star 7. 

The menu is innocuously posted on what looks like a giant wooden bulletin board on the center wall, listing out the 8 different takoyaki options and sizes available. Silver pots of silky Worcestershire sauce and brushes sit on each table. Stools that look like your grandmother knitted a little sweater for them waiting for hungry diners.  A children’s drawing of the mother and son duo hanging from one of the wooden dividers. 

There’s a comfort to this. It’s familiar. There are no bells and whistles. And there’s no more than what is needed to showcase their history and proficiency in their craft. It’s just right. 

Life is Like a Box of Takoyaki: Words of a Takoyaki Purist

First, let’s address the elephant in the room. Mayonnaise. I know what you are going to say. “But…but…Japanese mayonnaise is different.” While American mayonnaise uses the higher-acidity distilled vinegar and whole eggs, Japanese mayo opts for the slightly sweet and tangier rice vinegar and/or apple cider vinegar and only egg yolks. It’s still all Greek and mayonnaise to me. 

Just be happy for me that I found a place that lets me be my true self – a mayonnaise iconoclast.

Now, a word of warning. 

Make no mistake about it, you will burn your face off when you eat these. There’s no possible way to sit there for more than 30 seconds and not convince yourself that it “probably isn’t that hot on the inside.” Plus, you’ll tell yourself the brown sauce (similar to Worcestershire sauce) you slathered the takoyaki will surely cool it down. Wrong. 

You know Takoyaki Umaiya is the real deal: 

1. Because it is the second oldest takoyaki stand in Japan, and
2. Takoyaki originated in Osaka (in 1935).

I’m a purist and minimalist with most foods, so the fact that Takoyaki Umaiya’s octopus dumplings (I think we can call these dumplings, right?) are served naked and unafraid is what drew me to this shop.

The only thing that is kind of sad about plain takoyaki is you don’t get to watch the dried bonito flakes (which are traditionally sprinkled on top) wave at you like one of those used car inflatable tube men. This is also what I also look like on the dancefloor at 4 AM after a half-dozen Sapporo drafts and sake shots.

An Emphasis on What Matters: the Batter & Octopus Chunks

Takoyaki Umaiya is a no B.S. restaurant. One person, one dish (required). The smallest order contains six of these delectable, golden balls of fury (this is pretty normal throughout restaurants in Japan). But why stop at six?

What I appreciated about Takoyaki Umaiya, other than their exclusion of mayo, was the fact that the takoyaki was neither undercooked nor overcooked. Wheat flour batter definitely has a greater-than-average creamy texture, however, these little guys and their sweet spot were perfected over the 60 years they’ve been in business. 

The batter is made with a bonito dashi stock, which provides a clear and neutral (batter) baseline that is slightly elevated thanks to the unassuming seafood essence of dried bonito (from the Tuna and mackerel family).

Make sure you watch them cook your takoyaki (or someone else’s). It’s hard to miss the sizzling takoyaki pans out front when you walk in. Watch how they dexterously pick and turn each little ball with such precision, ensuring the uncooked batter is cooked evenly across. It’s almost like reverse juggling or a delicious game of whack-a-mole as you watch them swiftly pick and turn each ball, catching them before they overcook.

My least favorite takoyaki(s) in the Kansai region were ones that had an overly runny batter on the inside. Granted, you can’t have them rock hard or burnt but there is a fine line to tread here and Takoyaki Umaiya walks that tightrope like Robin Boy Wonder (the only one not to die when his parents died in a high-flying, aerial trapeze act) Ooof. Sorry, that was dark.

That’s not to say you won’t still get a little explosion of warm creaminess when you bite in because you absolutely will.

Pale Ale Travel Reflection: One of the low-key cultural shocks that I loved was eating takoyaki while I watched the Orix Buffaloes of the Nippon Professional Baseball league play – I also loved the fact that you would have Suntory, Kirin, and Asahi beer vendors with mini kegs on their back running the stairs for two-plus hours to serve up ice cold beerus (followed by a bow at the end of each row they cleared). 

When you focus on what matters, the fundamentals, omitting any ingredients or sauces that stand to mask a poor-quality grilled octopus ball, you have to be putting out a high-quality product. Takoyaki Umaiya does just that. The opposite of Allen Iverson, they take practice seriously. Savory, slightly crispy on the outside, soft but not doughy or batter-y on the inside – these are the takoyaki apex (at least for me).

The chunks of octopus inside each little ball are sizable. Having eaten at several takoyaki spots in Dotonbori where there was so little octopus that I thought I was eating one of those Dunkin Donut munchkin donut holes, I cried a single tear after taking my first bite, thankful that I had some textural support. The octopus chunks themselves yield a nice little chewy bite. 

I imagine a lot of foreigners (ex. When I tell friends back home) might be turned off by the fact that there’s octopus in what is essentially a little pancake ball but I think it is because they far overestimate the prominence of the octopus’s taste. It’s there but it is a complement rather than a nuisance.  

Don’t Forget the Sauce

The Worcestershire sauce (or a cousin of it) is what rounds the dish out. It’s on the sweeter side but there is a tang to it, which is a nice juxtaposition with the piping hot, savory, and slightly salty exterior. 

When eating takoyaki, it’s poor etiquette to slather up your octopus ball more than once. That means after you take a bite, don’t double dip, as the brush and sauce are communal (and will be used by future customers).

Pale Ale Travel Tip: If you are in Osaka (especially if you are staying near Osaka Castle) and looking for an atypical dining experience, make sure to check out my post ‘Doing the Neigh Neigh at a Horse Meat Restaurant’. Trust me, you won’t regret it.

Takoyaki is Best Eaten With Your Ride-or-Dies

That’s not true – takoyaki is best eaten at all times, solo or with your ride-or-dies. Though eating it with your ride-or-dies does add to the experience. It’s an affordable, comfort-snack that is an essential for anyone traveling to the Kansai Region (or Japan in general). 

Takoyaki aren’t overly complex snacks. On the contrary, they are simple and straightforward – and that’s where the comfort comes from. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone’s comfort food is sea bream foam scallop or gold-encrusted steak (served by that bozo Salt Bae) – it’s the simple staples that have been perfected over the years that we turn to when we want something familiar and comforting.

The total cost for an order of 6 at Takoyaki Umaiya is 600 yen (roughly USD 4). I’ve had some of the 200 yen takoyaki six packs and I have to say, the extra couple of hundred yen is worth shelling out for these.

Finally, I’m extremely thankful that one of my trips to Takoyaki Umaiya (my favorite trip of the bunch) was with one of my best friends (aka a ride-or-die) in Hong Kong when she visited me for an America-mura, photo sticker booth, and motsunabe-filled weekend. She just started a travel blog of her own that provides informative and thoughtful historical breakdowns and reflections on her favorite places. She’s also a far better photographer than I am, so I recommend that you all check out her blog ‘Rather Curious Journeys’.

Find yourself a great roll-dawg or roll-dawgette and get some takoyaki in you ASAP.

Eat well everyone,

Big Body