An Ode to Tonkatsu: Getting Gastronomically Biblical With Porky in Osaka

Oh, Tonkatsu. Eating. Hungry. Dipping my pork in Worcestershire. Golden brown, comfort, so many cutlets. Served by the Ton-katsu. Love it more than my third pet who lived to be 19 years old, a ton-Cat-su. Crunchy, refreshing cabbage, offsets the sweet fibrous meat and sour, tangy sauce. My mother’s name. Ton-kat-Sue. Fin. [Snap, snap, snap, snap – bow].

Alright. Now that we’ve got that nonsensical idiocy out of the way. Let’s talk about “the other, other beef.” Pork. Tonkatsu is a slept-on Japanese dish that doesn’t get the love it deserves when traveling to Japan. I mean, what’s not to love? 

It’s a deep-fried pork cutlet liberally coated in breadcrumbs and cooked to a medium rare, pinkish hue (but don’t worry – it’s high-quality pork) that retains more moisture than what’s expelled by an exasperated Daffy Duck quacking “suffering succotash” at Porky Pig. Unfortunately, in this scenario, Daffy and the Looney Tunes all end up slicing and dicing poor Porky, deep frying him, and serving him up for the Warner Bros lot with a side of chopped cabbage.

During my three months in Japan, I ate a lot of tonkatsu. All of it was great. However, there were two tonkatsu restaurants that won me over during my time in Osaka. Here is a bit about the institution of tonkatsu and why I’ve compiled this dedicated mixtape of late-90s and early-2000s bangers in written form, expressing my admiration, respect, and love for this Japanese dish.

Pale Ale Travel Note: That incoherent introduction was inspired by Schmidt in ‘22 Jump Street’ when he was put on the spot and improvised a slam poem about Cynthia, a high schooler who got high and overdosed on an imaginary drug called ‘WHY-PHY’. She died for our sin-thi-a’s. 

Lava Makin’, So Hot I’m Turning Hog to Bacon Tonkatsu

I’m so pro-pork that it hurts. I will die on the hill that a perfectly proportioned, mildly fatty, pork rib chop from your local farmstand beats a steak any day of the week. I’ve always been a sucker for sooey. So much so that I even took a first date to an American BBQ spot (many moons ago) and ordered a full rack of baby back ribs in front of her. 

Little did I know that she was actually a vegetarian and my pointing a freshly cleaned rib bone at her to emphasize an ill-formed point, I hadn’t quite worked out the purpose behind, was not as attractive as I thought. There was no second date. But alas, my ‘Tonkatsu termagant’ is out there somewhere. 

Tonkatsu, not to be confused with the Kyushu ramen variant ‘Tonkotsu’, is a panko breaded, deep-fried, cutlet of pork (filet or loin) that is typically served with a side of shredded cabbage, tonkatsu sauce (a Worcestershire sauce on the thicker side), rice, miso soup, and tsukemono (preserved vegetables). 

Everything about this dish is deliberate. Each ingredient knows its role and how it plays into the bigger porky picture. The shredded cabbage, a palate cleanser and a clean, refreshing contrast to an otherwise rich, crispy, and meaty cutlet. The tonkatsu sauce, a tangy and slightly sweet viscous substance to draw out the natural sweetness of the pork. The rice, a starchy bowl of sustenance to absorb the tonkatsu sauce and be eaten in tandem with the pork. The tsukemono for additional crunch and texture. The miso, a cleansing bowl of warmth to wash it all down with.

Note: At the first restaurant below, the female staff member was so surprised that I would eat my pork and rice separately. Apparently, it’s not the norm and you can see most Japanese combining the pork and rice for one hearty bite).

Don’t You Dare Call This ‘Tempura’ or ‘Schnitzel’

Welcome to ‘Tonkatsu 101’. I’m your substitute teacher for the day, ‘Big Body’. Let’s just clear up several misconceptions about tonkatsu. This isn’t me on my high hog or anything either as I genuinely wasn’t able to cogently explain what gives these fried Okja cutlets their gastronomic panache.

First, tonkatsu is breaded. Tempura isn’t. Tonkatsu falls under a class of breaded and fried meat, seafood, and vegetables called ‘furai’, tempura is coated in a batter and then subsequently deep fried. 

Second, tonkatsu isn’t schnitzel. There are some parallels. However, the panko breadcrumbs used to coat tonkatsu are far crunchier than the typical bread crumbs used for schnitzel. Tonkatsu uses thicker cuts that aren’t tenderized so forcefully with a mallet. Schnitzel is typically pan-fried rather than deep-fried like tonkatsu. 

Third, tonkatsu can be applied across the gastronomic spectrum. Maybe you need something hearty while on the go. That’s the katsu sando (sandwich). Maybe it’s the dead of winter and you need some warming culinary TLC. Say “Hello” to katsukare – tonkatsu with a rich brown Japanese curry. Or maybe you want to up your protein intake before you GTL (gym, tan, laundry) with Vinny, DJ Pauly D, Ronnie, and the boyz. Get yourself a katsudon – a mammoth bowl of rice topped with egg, a dashi broth, and katsu.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: Maybe you aren’t feeling the pork and want to beef up your life a bit instead. Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. Make sure to check out my article breaking down the famous ‘gyukatsu’ (deep-fried beef cutlets) restaurant in Osaka – Gyukatsu Motomura.

Keep in mind that if you are in Japan and end up at a tonkatsu restaurant, you are in for a treat (no matter the spot). The two restaurants in this post particularly stood out to me and “hog called” me to their location. 

Tonkatsu KATSU Hana 

• Website: https://katsuhana.jp 
• Restaurant: Tonkatsu Katsu Hana
• Address: 2 Chome-2-11 Kitakyuhojimachi, Chuo Ward, Osaka, 541-0057, Japan
• Price: 1,400 yen to 5,000 yen (depending on the cut and Prefecture) – between USD 10 and USD 35.

Located right near one of my favorite coworking spaces in the world, The Deck, Tonkatsu KATSU Hana is the apex of expertly fried, golden brown, high-quality pork – according to this Big Body. As I typically do, I was trapped in Sakaisuji Hommachi’s train station, unable to figure my way out (as it was past 9 PM – when they close several major exits) and only made it to KATSU Hana as it was wrapping up for the day. 

Drenched in sweat and unsure if I’d be able to get a seat, I knocked on the door and was greeted by the owner, a silver-haired woman with a warm smile and love of bodacious babes (Babe: Pig in the City-type of babes).

This woman made it her mission to ensure that I didn’t walk away hungry and kept me company while I waited for a seat to open, making small talk via Google Translate and explaining the different pork options (there’s more than a handful). The menu is purely domestic (how I like my hogs), broken down into loin cutlet sets and filet cutlet sets (ranging between 100g and 200g), with pigs from the Miyagi Prefecture, Iwate Prefecture, Chiba Prefecture, and more (however, the types of pork that are available may depend on demand and time of year). 

They even had my favorite, kurobuta (black) pork on the menu (from Kagoshima Prefecture at the southern tip of Kyushu), a popular, fatty pig that you can typically find accompanying salty shoyu ramen. However, I arrived late so the Kagoshima pork was sold out and there were only a handful of choices available. 

With the wide array of hog options (hoptions), you’ll surely be able to find a type of pork, with whatever fat content, to match your liking. Keep in mind that loin typically boasts a higher fat content than filets (similar to beef) due to its location smack dab between the ribs and back fat. 

If you want something on the fattier side, I would recommend the Kagoshima black pork, which (as mentioned above) boasts a high degree of intramuscular fat, or the Okinawa Agu, a prized pig that is raised on specific feed that retains more fat due to a higher melting point (of the fat). Gunma Prefecture pigs, on the other hand, sport thin muscle fibers that see a higher concentration of the juice in the meat itself rather than the fat, while Miyazaki Prefecture pigs are said to be free of “sticky fat.” 

I opted for 200g of pure unadulterated Duroc pig – from the Chiba Prefecture – another pig known for high levels of intramuscular fat and a lower level of muscle “moisture.” As you can see from the picture above, there’s no shortage of fat interspersed throughout these hunks of pork (so expect a pinch of extra sweetness). I think a lot of people hesitate when they see something so golden brown and think to themselves, “Surely it must be greasy.” That’s just not the case at all. As I mentioned above – everything about this dish is deliberate. 

The panko breadcrumbs create a light, airy crust that avoids retaining excess oil, while the freshly fried filet or loin is typically placed on a wire rack to allow all residual oil to drain. While most major cooking oils are all fair game for frying tonkatsu (sesame, olive, vegetable), you’ll generally find higher quality cooking oils at tonkatsu restaurants that boast a higher smoke point and neutral flavor, both of which contribute to a less greasy end product.

KATSU Hana embodies this clean, precise frying execution to a T. The outside crust is more akin to a Cadbury Creme Egg’s shell which gently cradles an interior of sweet sweet decadence – the biggest difference being that tonkatsu won’t rot your teeth and give you diabetes. With pork this juicy, there’s not much needed on your end other than to bite in, savor, and be transported to hog heaven. 

I do want to hammer home that this is an extremely popular shop so be prepared to wait – or, I recommend calling ahead (you can actually ask the front desk at your hotel to help with this) to book a slot if possible.

P.S. They have free rice refills which I recommend making good use of. KATSU Hana also serves up a potato salad (with mayonnaise) that I, a mayonnaise apostate, finished entirely. 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: If you are passing through Osaka and looking for several katsu sando spots to get your fix, make sure to check out my article breaking down the most mouth-watering beef katsu sando I had during my three months in Japan. I also recommend checking out Manpuku Bakery, in Osaka’s Kitahama neighborhood, for an affordable, extremely tasty pork katsu sando (with some mustard that has a little kick to it). 

とんかつ さくら亭 天満橋店

• Website: https://www.instagram.com/tonkatsu_sakuratei/ 
• Restaurant: とんかつ さくら亭 天満橋店
• Address: Japan, 〒540-0032 Osaka, Chuo Ward, Tenmabashikyomachi, 1−1 パナンテ天満橋
• Price: 900 yen to 1,800 yen (USD 6 to USD 12) per tonkatsu platter. Sides and other dishes clock in far less (ex. The croquettes were about 350 yen or USD 2 per serving).

If you’ve read my article on finding the top oyakodon I’ve ever eaten at the bottom of a shopping center in Hiroshima, then you already know that the best things to eat in Japan are always found in the basement of an unassuming mall or train station! Tonkatsu Sakuratei dots the eye in the exclamation point at the end of that statement. This is an unpretentious tonkatsu chain serving up affordable, quality, pork loin and filet platters that will have you wishing you wore sweatpants (or some form of pants where belts aren’t necessary).

I had just finished up my nightly constitutional (a run around Osaka Castle) and was in dire need of sooey sustenance. I (always) opted for the loin and filet combo. At an honest price point of roughly 1,500 yen (USD 10) for just under 200g of pork, you really just cannot beat it value-wise. 

While the fat content of the pork at Sakuratei is noticeably lower than at KATSU Hana and you don’t have the option of customizing the prefecture, living conditions, and other Build-A-Bear features of your pig, you can still expect fibrous (but not overly chewy), flavorful, juicy, slightly sweet pieces of perfectly cooked porkers. 

The shredded cabbage, a meal in itself and a nice crunchy, clean conduit to soak up some of the tangy tonkatsu sauce. The rice, sticky due to its signature high starch content, able to be seamlessly gripped with chopsticks, dunked in sauce (if desired), or eaten in one fell swoop with a lightly fried cutlet. 

Don’t sleep on Japanese croquettes (the golden brown disk to the right of the shredded cabbage). They are creamy, crispy, and rich in flavor. It’s almost like biting into a deep-fried cheesy gravy. I went through approximately 5 of these croquettes, on average, every pork pilgrimage. 

I ended up eating at Tonkatsu Sakuratei more than a handful of times during my three months living in Osaka and I would be remiss not to mention how accommodating the staff were. The first several times, I showed up a bit disheveled and still sweaty post-run, definitely pushing the dreaded L.O. boundary (last orders in Japan are not particularly flexible – but this isn’t in a negative way, it’s to ensure that staff can leave on time). I think just looking at me they knew I was (am) a tonkatsu ride-or-die, and welcomingly waved me in as I nervously glanced at my phone and hit them with my signature “thumbs up/thumbs down.” 

Finally, one little detail I love about Tonkatsu Sakuratei is that it just felt like stepping into an American diner when entering – humble wooden booths with maroon cushions, a wrap-around countertop with gargantuan menus, and staff members rocking classic black aprons with white undershirts. 

P.S. Let me know in the comments how many glasses of cold matcha tea that you go through. I think I went through two containers every single time.

Pale Ale Travel Anecdote: One of my most memorable experiences in Japan was actually at a tonkatsu izakaya in Kyoto where I think I caught the one woman manning the bar by surprise when I showed up. We both spoke ‘pork and booze’ (but that was about all) and I spent the night drinking nama beerus and draft Chu-his with her, watched her chain smoke an amount of cigarettes that would make a Naruan blush (52% of the island are smokers), and getting laughed at while I tried to convince her that I actually liked oden (one of the only foods that didn’t land for me in Japan).

That’ll Do Pig, That’ll Do

“Th-Th-The, Th-Th-The, Th-Th… That’s all, folks!” – Porky Pig

For me, tonkatsu carries a familiarity and nostalgia to it. It’s eerily reminiscent of several dishes I’d eat growing up but of sounder, cleaner, and more flavorful quality. I also have a soft spot for Charlotte’s Web and the warm, unconditional bond between Charlotte and Wilbur. Tonkatsu is terrific, radiant, and humble.

As an American, where highly processed, packaged, and sickly meat has somehow become a regular staple of our diets, Japan and its tonkatsu restaurants felt like being in boar bliss. I think a large part of that is the high levels of intramuscular fat that can be found in Japanese pork, which to me, point to better curated diets and living conditions (however, I do know that Japan still has a long way to go when it comes to animal welfare rights). 

Whatever the case (maybe that’s too flippant?), tonkatsu is an institution that should be gustatorily reverenced by working it into your eating repertoire while traveling to (or living in) Japan. 

If you have any favorite tonkatsu restaurants in Osaka (or the Kansai Region), let me know in the comments! Or, if you have any other favorite katsu spots in Japan, I’d love to hear from you as well!

Eat well folks,

Big Body