Blazing a Yakiniku Trail in the Kansai Region of Japan

Translating to ‘grilled meat’, yakiniku is a favorite Korean-Japanese eating pastime and hybrid that requires an empty stomach and a pair of your finest pair of sweatpants (or other elastic, stretchy garb when you balloon up like Violet Beauregarde after meat gluttony). In Japan, you can expect a happening yakiniku joint on almost every corner – especially in the Kansai Region – a Bermuda Triangle for premium beef bovines that have, in all likelihood, lived a better life than 99% of us (for God’s sake, they massage and feed some of them beer). 

But this post isn’t just to celebrate the golden ruling triumvirate of wagyu beef yakiniku that can be found across all corners of the Kansai Region (and Japan), this is a yakiniku epic, consisting of yakiniku joints from far and wide: premium, mid-range, and budget. What I can confidently declare is that if you are eating yakiniku in the Kansai Region, you are in the right place. From high-end Matsusaka wagyu restaurants in Kyoto to bustling offal haunts in the heart of Temma, all the way to all-you-can-eat and drink G.Y.O.B. (grill your own beef) joints in the South of Osaka, the Kansai Region is a yakiniku murderers’ row – and after all, it’s my beefy Wonderwall. 

Here is a list of five of my favorite yakiniku restaurants in the Kansai Region – primarily Osaka and Kyoto. I will return to Kobe for a longer stint (hopefully) in 2024 so that I can keep adding to this list.

But let’s first dig into a bit more about the art of yakiniku, the three primary types of wagyu, and why “Getting your yakiniku freak on” like Missy ‘Misdemeanor’ Elliot is a must if you are traveling to or living in Japan. Unless you’re a vegan or vegetarian – then in that case, how the hell did you land on this article? Get out of here Tavis and Debra. I’ll see you at the Farmers’ Market for my hemp seed bracelets next Sunday. 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: Look, I’m gonna level with you here. I ate so much meat during my three-month stint in Osaka that looking back and trying to recall each individual piece is likely going to give me an aneurysm. What I can provide are pictures and commentary for the cuts that stood out.

A Yakiniku Primer For You Beef Lords

While the term ‘yakiniku’ in Japanese originally referred to ‘Western BBQ’, over the years it has become synonymous with ‘Korean BBQ’ (starting in the Showa era). In the present day, ‘yakiniku’ typically refers to bite-sized pieces of beef, pork, offal, and other assorted meats (including seafood).

If you are in the market for Korean-inspired fare in Japan, there really isn’t a better spot to eat it than the Kansai Region (or Osaka), as Osaka is home to the largest Korean population in Japan – with over 100,000 ethnic Koreans living in Osaka who are divided into two distinct groups: permanent residency Koreans (or those who have naturalized) and those tracing their roots to Korea under Japanese rule – the ‘zainichi’ – 在日韓国人). Osaka’s Koreatown should be on everyone’s list when traveling to “the Large Hill.”

The gist of yakiniku is that you can expect raw plates of meat (beef, offal, pork, chicken, seafood, etc…) brought to you, which you then cook over the open grill. I’ve definitely burned some hairs off my arm doing this (usually after 10 to 12 nama beerus) so just make sure you don’t slip up like this Big Body. 

Once cooked (to your liking), diners then have the option of dipping the meat in a variety of sauces – collectively known as ‘tare’ – my favorite of the bunch being the sesame and soy-based mix. However, there are miso, garlic, and chimichurri-esque dips to boot (and probably tens of thousands of other sauces that I am forgetting/do not even know of. 

P.S. Sorting through all these pictures to choose my favorites was no easy task and as a coping mechanism, I had to pick up three packets of beef jerky to power me through.

The Three Key Types of Wagyu

While not all the yakiniku joints in this article are wagyu-certified cuts of beef, I thought I would provide a quick explainer on the three types of wagyu (The ‘Big Three’) that you can commonly find in the Kansai Region (and across Japan as a whole). As I mentioned above, if you are in the market for Wagyu, there’s no better place than the birthplace of it all – the Kansai Region. 

Let’s take a look at the three key types of wagyu – all of which trace their bloodlines and ancestry back to Japanese black cattle from Japan’s Hyogo Prefecture – which includes Kobe and is slightly to the Northwest of Osaka/West of Kyoto. 

1. Matsusaka Ushi,
2. Kobe Beef,
3. Omi Beef. 

All three of these types of beef belong to a category of ‘kuroge’ (Japanese black cattle), considered the apex of A5 wagyu power rankings (and only accounting for roughly 15% of all beef produced in the country). 

I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t even realize there were three primary types of wagyu before coming to Japan. At the first restaurant I ate at where wagyu was served (Gansan), I didn’t even initially realize it was wagyu due to it being called ‘Matsusaka’. I just knew I was going for ‘yakiniku’.

Matsusaka Ushi

Hailing from the Mie Prefecture of the Kansai Region, to the East of Osaka, Nara, and Kyoto, Matsusaka beef comes from roughly 2,500 virgin cows per year, some of which are fed beer (to increase their appetites). It boasts a substantial fat-to-meat ratio and is incredibly tender, with hints of sweetness.  

Cattle are raised under stringent conditions and governed by the Matsusaka Beef Management System (one of the greatest names ever). All Matsusaka cattle can be identified by a 10-digit ID and tracking number which includes their date of birth, date of slaughter, and bloodline. 

One interesting point of note about Matsusaka beef is that because of its notable tenderness it isn’t just used in yakiniku but is also commonly used in shabu-shabu (hotpot) and sukiyaki (hotpot but with a sweeter and deeper seasoned broth than shabu-shabu).

Kobe Beef

Undoubtedly, Kobe beef is the most widely known/recognized brand of Wagyu and is the most commonly exported out of Japan. Kobe cattle are born, bred, brushed (yes, this is true), and raised under strict conditions at specific farms across the Hyogo Prefecture, subsisting on a diet of specially curated corn and rice. 

Kobe is well-marbled (and fatty) and noted for a perceptible sweetness, creaminess, and butteriness (with some even noting a slight note of nuttiness). Roughly 3,000 Kobe cows take that special step/are welcomed into meat martyrdom each year. Like Matsusaka Ushi, each cow’s provenance, life cycle, and ancestry can be traced back to a 10-digit code. 

Omi (Ohmi) Beef

Originating from the Shiga Prefecture, just east of Kyoto, Omi beef is the third and said to be the “oldest” of the “Big Three.” Omi cattle (Japanese Black cattle) are pampered in a home surrounded by ample water and nature and fed a diet of fine grains, which results in a distinctive fat viscosity and higher marbling score (and lower melting point). Omi boasts a generally sweeter flavor profile and softer texture than the above two wagyu and is typically cited as the standard for ‘melt-in-your-mouth’ beef. 

I should also note that the wagyu beef cuts available at the restaurants below are Matsusaka Ushi – found at the first Kyoto yakiniku restaurant on the list, Kobe – found at 肉 听 三条木屋町店 (the second Kyoto yakiniku spot on this list, and a general wagyu at Sumibi-yakiniku Kagaribi (I don’t think it’s one of the “Big Three”) in Osaka. The beauty of wagyu beef in Japan is that it isn’t just for those who enjoy “fine-dining and breathing” (love me some SpongeBob), it’s for everyone. 

Finally, keep in mind that there is no particular type of wagyu that is “the best”. The hierarchy of wagyu and its superiority is determined by its grade (which is influenced by marbling, texture, color, and fat quality, with A5 clocking in at the top and C1 at the bottom of the scale. So, if you have it in your mind that ‘Kobe Beef’ is the number one wagyu in the world, I would argue that they are all equally fantastic and it comes down to the grading. 

Pale Ale Travel Note: I am always hesitant to rate a restaurant on the “price scale” from affordable to expensive, as everyone’s price points are different. I threw them in this article just to try and give an idea of what are the most affordable vs. more expensive yakiniku spots on this list. However, I imagine just looking at the set-up and background in the pictures should give away what might be on the pricier or more affordable side. While I didn’t eat there myself (I really wanted to), ‘Yakiniku Like’ – a popular budget yakiniku chain across Japan – offers sets starting as low as USD 6 to 7 per person.

松阪牛 焼肉のＧＡＮＳＡＮ 先斗町別邸 (Kyoto)

Most yakiniku restaurants will provide you with a cube of fat to grease the grill. It did catch one staff member by surprise when he came back in to find me all greased up with it, donning my finest spandex wrestling singlet, with rubber-soled shoes, and velcro headgear (thanks to newly acquired cauliflower ear), ready for a Greco-Roman yakiniku match.

• Website & Menu: https://pontocho.gansan.info/index.html#meat 
• Address: 137-11 Wakamatsucho, Nakagyo Ward, Kyoto, 604-8011, Japan
• Price: $$$

Name a more intimate relationship than one between a man and the heroic bovine who sacrificed itself for several hours of gastronomic bliss. You can’t. Looking up the ancestral history of my Matsusaka martyr via QR code became a favorite activity during my three months in Japan (or in my life). 

It’s only fair that I lead with the number one yakiniku restaurant that I ate at during my three-month stint in Japan – Gansan. To think, it almost didn’t happen and was almost cut short as when I entered the empty restaurant on a Tuesday night, they sat me at the front countertop seating. I was slightly unsure what to do as there were no other guests in the restaurant and no sign of any showing up anytime soon. 

I considered leaving but then had a look at it from their side – a very sweaty, big-bodied, somewhat balding man from New Hampshire crashing through the door crazily muttering to himself “Is there beef in the box?” “Is there beef in the box?” Spoiler alert: what a wild ride finding out one of Hollywood’s now most disgraced stars makes an appearance at the end of that movie. 

Brewed by one of my favorite beer megaliths in Japan, Heartland is a specialty lager by Kirin Brewery that only uses water, malt, and hops (similar to Sapporo’s Yebisu). 

However, as soon as I opened the menu and began asking questions about the thick beef tongue (three variations), they saw I meant business and quickly moved me to my own four-seater with its built-in grill.  

Yakiniku is Korean-inspired after all, so you can always find this tangy, salty, fishy, crunchy, and sour side served up. I go through at least two to three plates each time which I justify due to its probiotic properties. Thanks to my several trips to Koreatown in Osaka, I became well acquainted with the different types of kimchi out there, including radish and even watermelon rind kimchi – prior to this, I was strictly a cabbage kimchi guy. 

When they say “thick” they aren’t lying. Thick-cut beef tongue will take you far longer than normal to cook. It’s actually the exact opposite of the typical thin beef tongue slices that you are used to that cook within seconds. I actually found myself undercooking these on accident due to this inch-plus of thickness and found that for the first few pieces I missed the mark flavor-wise. 

After being a bit more militant/strong-willed with the cooking time and ensuring they were cooked all the way through, the thick-cut beef tongue quickly usurped its thinner, more delicate predecessor. 

Gansan’s thick-cut beef tongue is arguably my favorite single bite of food that I consumed in Japan. It’s a bit more muscle-y than traditional steak but packed to the gills with intramuscular fat which yields a buttery richness in every bite. When you undercook it, it’s a bit like eating a football. But when you cook it just right (see below), you are in bovine Elysium (the blessed Greek fields for the departed or that dystopian Matt Damon movie where he needs to get up to Elysium to secure an antidote after radiation poisoning). 

It almost looks like foie gras with how long I cooked this one and how I seared the outsides. As emphasized above, I recommend that you err on the side of “overcooking” your thick-cut beef tongue as you will almost 100% still undercook it – which will then be the perfect medium-rare inside, with a melt-in-your-mouth texture (rather than a fibrous thick-cut of Canadian bacon – even though it’s beef). 

This is what one of these bad boys should look like on the inside. 

The above picture is of Gansan’s “finest roast beef” (and I would wholeheartedly agree). It almost just slides right down the gullet once coated in the rich egg. If you’ve read any of my other posts on gourmandizing in Japan then you know how much I love mixing a raw egg into the equation. 

First, let’s get it out of the way that it’s not a random carton of eggs you hurriedly picked up at a gas station Cumberland Farms, or 7-11 off I-95 on the way home from work. Second, it adds a rich, creamy, nutty, gooey liquid to coat the nearly raw (lightly seared) wagyu and further draw out the fattiness of the beef. Third, the contrast of the cold yolk and room temperature beef adds a dynamic fusion which is a nice contrast to the later cooked cuts. 

This meat triumvirate consisting of three types of lean meat was the star of the show – the cuts, hand-selected by a Wagyu specialty store in Mie (presumably). This will run you 7,200 yen (USD 48) and it is worth every dollar. I’m about 90% sure I paid USD 50 for an incredibly subpar steak at a restaurant in Hong Kong just last week. There are subtle differences to each of the three that you will surprisingly be able to pick up in your pursuit of beef and liberty.

The bottom left is Matsusaka beef ribs. Other than beef tongue, ribs are my favorite cut of beef. While they do have a higher-than-average fat content, it doesn’t detract from the baseline beefiness that we all know and love. There is always a hint of sweetness to them as well which adds to the complexity of a beloved cut. 

The bottom right is the skirt steak. Cut from the diaphragm of the cow, this Matsusaka skirt steak has a pronounced grain to it and a slightly leaner texture. This really is the control test that I would argue you should compare all other cuts to. It’s for those who truly want to capture the beefy essence of the cut while omitting some of the added fat. From there, you can work your way up (or down) the marbling scale to find which cut works for you. 

The top middle (I was going to make a pun and call it the ‘tip of the tri’) is the beef top loin, or what you may commonly know it as – the New York strip. Taken from the delta of the ribs and top of the leg bone, the top loin is far less marbled than the above two, and a finer cut that is definitely lean. While it doesn’t have that same intense buttery-ness, it is incredibly tender and balanced in profile. Its slight chewiness pairs well with the melt-in-your-mouth cuts adjacent and really allows you to cover three distinct profiles (descending in fattiness) to shape the palette. 

Oh look, the whole gang’s here. A healthy dash of wasabi atop your yakiniku is perfect for cutting through the richness and fattiness of the beef with its quick hit of heat and lingering herbaceous, fragrant aftertaste. 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: If you are looking to indulge in a Japanese favorite (which may or may not be taboo in your home country) then make sure to check out my post about the time I “did the neigh neigh” at Umaya Tarochan – a popular horse meat yakiniku restaurant a stone’s throw away from Osaka Castle (and Temmabashi Station). I didn’t technically grill anything myself here so I kept it off the list.

豚足ホルモン 小林商店 (Osaka)

• Website/Social Media: https://www.instagram.com/tonsokuhorumon_kobayashishoten/ 
• Address: 6-1 Ikedacho, Kita Ward, Osaka, 530-0033, Japan
• Price: $$

I need to start this off by acknowledging that I only found out about this delicious offal yakiniku restaurant because of a Korean wine YouTuber I follow – Wineking. I highly recommend checking out his channel if you love everything to do with gourmandizing (I’m using that word far more now that I reread The Merchant of Venice). 

He looked like he had so much fun with his buddies when he went there that I couldn’t resist. I even showed the staff his YouTube channel and mentioned how he inspired me to come – they had no idea who he was (which I’m not sure why I thought they would but I had already consumed a couple beers at a ramen shop around the corner before).

One misconception that I want to clear up with ‘offal’ is that this is a word spanning innumerable organs and entrails. It’s not just the stomachs, the livers, the gizzards, and the hearts of the animal – but it’s also the tongue (you saw above how glorious that beef tongue is), tender, fall-off-the-bone cheeks, and all the assorted trimmings of the Clarabelles of the world.

I died on the inside with sheer delight and happiness (this Big Body heart grew four sizes that day – one size bigger than The Grinch’s) after ordering a “nama beeru” when the waiter looked me dead in the eye and asked what size. “Big,” I said and gestured with my hands like I just reeled in largemouth bass in Winnipesaukee (New Hampshire reference). He repeated, but with an amplifier I was not anticipating, “Mega beeru.” I gave him a puzzled look, thinking he was humoring me. He picked up on my skepticism and pointed to a patron at one of the outside tables, this time emphatically declaring, “Mega beeru.” I nodded.

As the night wore on and more customers piled in, I learned that their mammoth-sized beers (which I would place around 1-1.5 liters) were in fact officially referred to as ‘mega beers’. But wait, the ‘mega beers’ aren’t just limited to beer, I noticed several patrons ordering mega high balls (whiskey and soda water) and mega Chu-his (Japan’s homegrown shochu). The waiter then Google translated, “Anything.” What a glorious, glorious place. 

The word “mega” also reminds me of the time in college when I curiously asked my buddy what he would name his firstborn and he responded “Mega-child.” If he doesn’t name his firstborn “Mega-child” then I’m using it. That was a tangent. Now, onto the meat.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: Fun fact, the name of the restaurant includes the term ‘horumon’ aka ‘hormone’. However, this isn’t the term ‘hormone’ in the traditional sense that you are likely thinking of. In Japan, it’s speculated that the term originates from an Osaka dialect phrase ‘horu mono’ – meaning “discarded parts.”So don’t worry, you aren’t going to cry or get aroused eating this – unless, well you’re into that thing.  

Something about this yakiniku just hit right that night. It could have easily been the mega beers or the fact that I had read how difficult it was to actually walk in at this restaurant but everything seemed to be going my way. I should note that there were more meat combo deals and sets than you could shake a cloven hoof at and I’m not entirely sure what set the waiter gave me but I do know tongue, harami, and koune were three of the cuts. 

Harami is skirt steak and by far the most popular cut of beef I came across during my tall taurine (no, not like the stuff in Four Lokos that could kill an elephant) travels. Because of its strong flavor, harami is ripe for marinating in soy sauce and miso, which the above is a testament to. While it requires cooking for a bit longer, this actually makes for a pleasant, relaxing yakiniku experience as I sometimes find myself obsessively (and creepily) watching over the meat like Tyree in Chappelle’s Show ‘The Real World’ episode when he watches Chad and Katie make love in the middle of the night. 

Like most harami, these cuts rendered a beautiful, crisp brown sear on the outside which trapped all the juice and flavor in, yielding tender, saporous bites.

The tongue. What more can I say about beef tongue that hasn’t already been said? While not thick-cut beef tongue, these were sizable cuts that could hold their own in an unadulterated, sloppy, French kiss with Gene Simmons. As all the cuts were marinated, the outside sear was much more palpable and led to little explosions of fattiness.  

If it’s on the menu, you know I have to get it. The above offal would make my old man proud. Tripe, liver, tongue, and several more parts that I’m not sure I recognize but will gladly eat any day of the week. With the above stomach and organ meats, the texture is naturally, slightly more coarse and lighter in flavor, intensity, and beefiness. 

However, that’s where the raw egg comes into play. The richness and gooeyness of the egg slightly convince you that you’re just eating a slightly chewier and tougher tartare. I’ve been eating a lot of Italian lampredottos (tripe sandwiches) lately, and the silver-haired Florentine who makes them summed it up best, “You can feel the nutrients enter your body when you eat stomach.”

Overall, this yakiniku spot may be the one I’m most excited to return to next year, due to its positioning in the deadcenter of my favorite area of Osaka (Temma), mega beers, well-marinated meat, and laid-back atmosphere. This is really THE spot for yakiniku (on this list at least) if you want to throw some back with the boyz or galz and see where the night takes you. 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: Yakiniku can be a full-on experience that not only consumes your mind, body, and soul but also imparts a lasting smoke and meat scent on your clothes. It’s as if a bovine poltergeist passed through your body in the middle of the night and sent a beefy chill through your spine. Just be prepared that whatever you wear to your yakiniku feast will smell like delicious, cooked, smokey, beef by the end of it. For me, this is a blessing. For others, a curse and annoyance. 

焼肉力丸上本町店 (Osaka)

• Website: http://handafood.jp/English menu: http://handafood.jp/translation-en/ 
• Address: Japan, 〒543-0001 Osaka, Tennoji Ward, Uehonmachi, 6 Chome−7−2 上六三和会館 3F
• Price: $

I woke up that fateful Tuesday and I chose death by a thousand beef cuts. Also, I wasn’t actually planning on drinking since it was only a Tuesday (and my Wednesdays are by far my worst work day of the week due to client calls until the wee morning hours). But after seeing the 530 yen (USD 3.50) additional price tag for 90 minutes of free-flow (on top of the all-you-can-eat where you can choose from 100 dishes), the trajectory of the night was already well written into the prophecy. And who am I to deny the fates when they promise me free-flow beef and beerus?

The staff member assigned to my table definitely got his 10,000 steps in for the day with the never-ending flow of Kirin draft beers that I kept requesting.

I do have to warn you that these are the steamiest pictures I took and not in a romantic way. I was holed up in a little closed-off cubicle and hunched over this fire for 90 minutes like an Osaka Prometheus. 

The thin slices of beef tongue were served as I’m typically used to them, almost translucent and no thicker than a slice of A4. When cooking these, you really just need 5 to 10 good seconds on each side (probably not even). There is absolutely no toughness or rubberiness that comes out thanks to its paper-thin form. I always treat thin-cut beef tongue as a warm-up – to activate my beef pincers.

Let’s take a look at this tablet for a second. In the upper left-hand corner, you’ll see the time remaining (60 minutes). As an American who once wrote a high school English term paper on competitive hot dog maestro Takeru Kobayashi (who once competed against a bear) and the I.F.O.C.E. (International Federation of Competitive Eating), I love nothing more than a timed challenge. 

Simply sort through the menu (of over 100 dishes included in your all-you-can-eat), place your order (you are typically limited to 2-3 items at a time), and your waiter/waitress will arrive shortly with your meat and/or beer. It’s really that simple. Also, because I was by myself, I pretended it was some arcade controller for Gran Turismo 5 and would occasionally pick it up, turn it side to side like a steering wheel, make race car noises to myself, and then put it back down. 

A beef reflection/epiphany I had is that many lower-priced/affordable beef spots (not only in Japan but across the world) typically yield a much greasier cut than is palatable for the human body over an extended period. However, here, all the meat was extremely fresh and clean, with minimal grease accumulation. I left here feeling like a million bucks, all without spending a million bucks. 

If this isn’t the epitome of a meat seance then I don’t know what is. 

For some reason the above picture makes me just think of a bunch of pieces of meat in the mosh pit, flopping around, bumping into each other at a ‘House of Pain’ concert – “Jump around, jump around, jump up, jump up and get down!” 

This was the skewered skirt steak with a soy sauce glaze and simple salt and pepper seasoning. I’m not sure why but the scale of this above cut does not do it justice. This isn’t a small silver platter that it’s on. The silver platter is the circumference of an American football, and this took up more than half of the plate. It reminded me far more of the rump or roast that you might find at a Brazilian churrascaria (all-you-can-eat) restaurant. 

The grain structure of the skirt is definitely on the looser side which leads to a chewier experience but it’s all buttery, beefy flavor, so you can’t complain. 

If my notes on this are correct, the above are the top short ribs as a solo order (as you can see by the higher concentration of fat). Because of their high levels of marbling and fat, their marinade is almost kicked up a notch, resulting in one of the sweeter, more savory bites you can expect.

I went for it and ordered the assortment of four beef specialties: loin, thick-cut steak, skewered skirt steak, and short ribs. I cannot stress enough just how much I love any sort of rib meat. 

What I especially loved about this all-you-can-eat beef haven was how well all the meat was marinated. I love those little crispy, slightly burnt ends that pop up after letting it sit on the grill. The texture, smokiness, and crunch all generate much-needed depth to your meat marathon and serve as a perfect contrast to the butteriness of some cuts. 

I remember taking a bite of this piece and thinking to myself, “Yep, that’s the one.” I’m proud of this piece because I think I nailed it – somewhere in between medium rare and rare. Juicy, crusted with a charcoal-y bark, and the right level of chewy. Even a ‘90-year-old Big Body’ with no teeth could get this down the gullet. 

The loin steak is one of the most popular items on the menu (according to the kind staff member who walked me through everything and gave me a Flava Flav hype-man speech before my timer commenced). The edges, fatty and rich, the center, somewhat chewy and tender due to its fine grain content, the finish, savory and full of beefy flavor.

If there is any spot on this list to work through all the different cuts without worrying about breaking the bank (since they are all included in your all-you-can-eat package), this is it.  

Thick-cut bacon has become a beloved staple for this Big Body ever since I befriended a man from Nova Scotia many many moons ago. I may have slightly overcooked these (as you can see by some of the charring on the outer edges), however, I can assure you that no moisture was lost. Thick-cut bacon should have a mildly smoky flavor which is balanced out by equal proportions of sweet fat and salty protein in each bite. 

While not the star of the show, I would be remiss not to include one small order of chicken thighs that was my dessert. Honestly, it turned out fantastic. And how could it not? It was the last thing that I ordered and soaked up all the previous beef juices that had seeped out in my ravenous meat mauling. 

I thought I was going to be upset when my timer finally ran out but I think I gave it everything I had. I felt like delivering the meat equivalent of Lou Gehrig’s ‘Luckiest Man’ speech – “Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth.” I’m tearing up thinking about both.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: I went on an absolute ramen bender when I was in Japan. Oftentimes, it was one of the only available late-night options after my nightly work calls. If you’ve eaten so much yakiniku that you need to mix it up one night, make sure to check out my guide to 21 ramen restaurants in Osaka. 

肉听 三条木屋町店 (Kyoto)

I feel like this is a similar setup to how Napoleon opened up a map of the Iberian Peninsula, carefully plotting his next moves. Except, there’s no recognition of the French hegemony by this Big Body. It’s strictly beef. 

• Address: Japan, 〒604-8005 Kyoto, Nakagyo Ward, Ebisucho, 424 ＡＢＳビル 1F
• Price: $$ – $$$

This was “Part Deux” of my yakiniku adventures in Kyoto after a tumultuous first few days with an ex of mine who flew into Tokyo. I would not have found this restaurant or likely returned to Kyoto for a second week-long stint if she and I had not decided to part ways (I also wouldn’t have enjoyed my epic trip to Hiroshima for an okonomiyaki christening). 

I do want to emphasize that almost every single yakiniku spot I went to has reasonably priced sets/courses available – even here they have several courses priced at 5,500 yen (USD 37). The kuroge A5 wagyu course starts at 10,000 yen (USD 67), while the premium Kobe beef set will run you 19,800 yen (USD 133). I always opt for a la carte as I usually treat it as a blowout beef bonanza of sorts and also prefer to go heavy on the beef tongue and short ribs.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: You can read about some of my favorite Hiroshima adventures, which included the infamous chili oil tsukemen and the iconic okonomiyaki village – Okonomimura. 

This may have been my favorite ‘beef sashimi’ of the trip. It was definitely on the rarer side but because of the delicate, fatty profile of the beef, these were more poppable than those Flintstones vitamins your parents would give you as a kid.

While you may have read my ode to thick-cut beef tongue above, this was honestly the only thing on the menu here that didn’t quite land for me. This cow must have been extra stubborn or didn’t receive it’s requisite 3 liters of daily Kirin beers as no matter how thoroughly I cooked this through, it was still a tad tougher than I would have liked in texture. 

Now this was the star of the show. Perfectly seasoned, mildly fatty, sweet short ribs, best eaten somewhere between medium and medium rare. For these, I generally prefer to cook them a bit longer as there’s a nice little tightening up of these that locks in a Capri Sun serving of juices. 

I was deep in the wasabi game by the end of my three months in Japan. There’s an undeniable harmony that exists between the two. Buttery, rich fatty bites, balanced out by a lighter, sharp fragrance that stings the nostrils and keeps you hopelessly going back for bigger and bigger dollops. 

These little Kit-Kat-looking sticks of premium wagyu are some of the most tender and melt-in-your-mouth. Notice how they are scored. This helps increase flavor absorption of the salt and pepper seasoning and enables for a crispy outer edge (with a nice little Kit-Kat snap to round it off). 

When you are paying a premium (which was still incredibly reasonable at the end of the day), you’ll notice just how well-seasoned and marinated all the meat is. It’s never seasoned or flavored in excess – allowing for the true essence/natural beef juices and flavor to shine. 

I wish I could hit you with a little bit more wagyu knowledge here about exactly what types of cuts these were but I was thrown into some sort of beef fugue state and may have even been in the beef Matrix (not with Andrew Tate). 

I’m glad I mixed in several high-end yakiniku and wagyu joints in the Kansai Region just to confirm that you are in for a treat no matter the restaurant. Also, a simple revelation was that like all restaurants out there, yakiniku restaurants have their strengths and weaknesses. In this case, the tongue was definitely not their forte. However, the short ribs and sashimi with raw egg were some of the best in the game (especially at their price point).

Sumibi-yakiniku Kagaribi (Osaka)

• Address: Japan, 〒540-0036 Osaka, Chuo Ward, Funakoshicho, 2 Chome−3−15 昭和ジャパンライフ
• Price: $ – $$

The term ‘sumibi’ actually refers to how you cook your small dishes of meat – on small grills or gridirons that stand over wood charcoal and are burned by dry distillation or an electric/gas grill. You could tell this was a yakiniku restaurant from a quarter mile down the road with all the smoke billowing out of its front door, which is actually what drew me to it in the first place (and its replica shrine exterior with deep red lettering). 

I also saw a salaryman topple over into one of the plants right outside after consuming one too many nama beerus, which reaffirmed this was the place for me.  

Sumibi-yakiniku Kagaribi is an a la carte style yakiniku restaurant located just a fifteen-minute walk to the west of Osaka Castle (this is my main landmark/North Star of sorts as this is where I lived) and fifteen-minute walk to the east of Kitahama Station. For the quality of beef at the most reasonable price point, Sumibi-yakiniku Kagaribi reigns supreme.

Boneless short ribs for the win. Unfortunately, I took the least amount of photos at Sumibi-yakiniku Kagaribi – this is mainly attributed to the fact that I was enamored with the ice-cold, crisp Sapporo draft beers (my favorite draft beer in all of Japan) and had swung by here on a whim, with no idea what to expect. 

Don’t let the lack of pictures cause you to sleep on Kagaribi. 

I ate more harami (skirt steak) here than at any other yakiniku spot. The soy sauce (and mirin – I think) marinade boldly permeated this fibrous cut from the diaphragm, drawing out a pronounced tenderness and juiciness in each bite. 

Coupled with the Kagaribi grills which were working overtime, blowing out more smoke than Method Man and Redman in How High, and the smoky, charred exterior really kicked things up a notch (I love me a little slightly burnt bark for contrast). 

You even get your own little bowl of ice to tame the grill when it inevitably flames up like Mount Doom after the destruction of the one ring that rules them all. 

I really cannot hammer home enough just how well all the meat at Kagaribi was marinated. As these are not ‘finer’ or ‘higher end’ cuts, a healthy marinade helps pump these already juicy morsels up to Notorious B.I.G. levels (something which may ultimately detract with A5 premium cuts).  

My top recommendations are obviously the ribs, harami (skirt steak), beef tongue, and wagyu kalbi (which are what I’m typically used to and fell in love with at Korean BBQ restaurants in Hong Kong). 

You can bet your bottom dollar I will be back here (and to bolster this post with more pictures). If you make your way over in the meantime, make sure to let me know what your favorite cuts were and if you fell over into a bush outside after one too many Sapporo drafts.

If You Hear Any Noise, It’s Just Me & the Boys BBQ’ing

To quote Joe Gatto in Impractical Jokers after he pretends to be a child that was lost in a cave for 25 years and surfaces in front of a tour group while in grotesque troll-like make-up and a shirt that reads ‘I’m the beef’. I’m the beef. 

Yakiniku in Japan was one of my culinary highlights. It was there when I got Chumba Wumba-ed (got knocked down) and needed help getting back up again. It was there to celebrate several momentous occasions that required an empyrean feast. And it was there when I was just living my everyday life. 

Each one of the above yakiniku restaurants fits whatever occasion you may be looking for. If you want to get down and dirty with the dawgz while slugging Kirin drafts (or mega-beers) and chowing through tasty, quality beef, then the above Osaka offal and all-you-can-eat yakiniku joints are your play. If you are with your partner looking for a higher-end Wagyu spot for that special occasion, then both Kyoto haunts are my go-to’s. And, if you want something in between, then Sumibi Kagaribi holds its own and then some (I would argue it may be the best price point to quality ratio of the whole batch).

I was surprised at just how “everyday” yakiniku is in Japan. Even in Hong Kong, BBQ nights with the boys are a special occasion that happens once in a blue moon. What caught me off guard is just how casual it is – this is everyday living. And you know what? Every day is a special occasion so you should fire up the grill, toss some thick beef tongue on it, slug a draft beer or six, and live.

If you have any favorite yakiniku spots in the Kansai Region, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. What was your favorite cut of meat? Was it an all-you-can-eat yakiniku joint? Were you also able to trace the cow’s ancestry via QR code? I’m always on the lookout for new spots – especially as I prepare for a 2024 return (hopefully with my brother).

Eat well everyone,

Big Beefu Body