A Pancake’s Past
Glistening, steaming excellence, thanks to Oconomi (if only they weren’t located in QUEENS) — Japan Fes 2022
Okonomiyaki is a wonderful thing. It’s one of those street foods that carries a long history on its battered shoulders. But before we get into this delicious, storied, customizable lil’ savory pancake, we should run up some quick etymology.
The word okonomiyaki can be broken up into two parts. The first half, “okonomi” お好み, roughly translates to “whatever you like,” which describes the dish’s best feature (more on that in a moment). “Yaki” 焼き means “grilled,” and as will become apparent throughout this week and beyond, it is a phrasing used to describe many Japanese foods.
— History/Ancestors
Before adopting the characteristics for which it is most popularly known for and recognized today, Japan went through several other savory pancake variations, dating as far back as the Edo period (1603-1868). These “proto-okonomiyaki,” as they will henceforth be referred, first began as a dessert item, known as funoyaki, which consisted of a grilled, crepe-like wheat pancake that was filled with a spread of miso paste mixed with sugar. During the Meiji period (1868-1912) this dish would evolve into sukesoyaki, replacing the miso mixture with tsubu-an, or sweet red bean/azuki paste.
A savory assembly, well worth the wait — Oconomi
Both of these predecessors more or less died out in the decades and centuries after their inceptions, with the most obvious precursor to okonomiyaki coming around during the 1920s-1930s. With a newfound wave of Western culinary influence coming in the form of sauces (primarily Worcestershire), the Japanese developed yoshokuyaki (“yoshoku” 洋食 meaning western food), placing more emphasis on what is now the dish’s signature topping. Yoshokuyaki went on to develop the colloquial name “issen-yoshoku,” meaning “one coin western food,” referring to its relatively cheap cost and ease to cook.
As with many dishes worldwide, the reality of okonomiyaki’s rise to popularity was one developed through perseverance over extreme hardship. Both during and following World War II, the Japanese people suffered a scarcity of food and resources, including rice (which if you’ve not been aware of humanity at large up to this point, tends to be the one crop that makes the world go ‘round). As such, the people had to get creative, using a simple wheat pancake batter to stretch ingredients as far as possible, namely something cheap and available like cabbage, or later on eggs and/or slices of pork. The “whatever you like” was much less of an as you like it and more of a whatever is available at the time.
— Styles/Fixings
While true to its name, okonomiyaki can be as varied as one’s pantry and imagination, the dish has culturally fallen into two main styles over its development. These are the Osaka/Kansai and Hiroshima styles, named after the respective cities and region of Japan (Kansai being a region). Osaka style, the more recognized preparation internationally (as well as the style which Queens’ Oconomi food stall/pickup and delivery service was representing at this year’s first Japan Fes) features the majority of its ingredients mixed into the batter, akin to a scallion pancake. Hiroshima style is instead layered atop the cooked pancake, starting with the oh so very important extra heap of shredded green cabbage.
As a simple, filling, and flexible food, most okonomiyaki places will either serve their own specific selection or offer the customer the ability to build their own. Among the regular contenders for mix-ins/toppings are (but certainly not limited to): pork, noodles, bonito flakes, eggs, fish, nori, corn, shrimp, scallions, okonomiyaki sauce (developed from Japanese Worcestershire), and mayonnaise (likely Kewpie mayo). While I certainly recommend keeping Japanese flavors in mind, the sky’s the limit really.
It was from a truly harrowing time in history that something so delicious (and not often engaged with contextually) emerged, which is also why okonomiyaki has been referred to as Japanese soul food before. And while I absolutely encourage, nay, implore you to get your hands (or chopsticks, or fork (but really I do mean chopsticks)) on one as soon as you can, I also ask that you take a moment to think about what it is that you’re absolutely-within-your-rights-to-be scarfing down. If the chef or owner is around, ask them about how they got started. What’s their relationship to the dish? The style? Their preparation of choice? What does “oconomi” mean to them?
I’m sure that there is a story there worth listening to.
