In Osaka, food isn’t a function – it’s a way of life

Japan’s second city and ‘nation’s kitchen’ is the world’s fastest-growing tourist destination, finds Hannah Summers

I’ve circled Osaka Castle, sprinkled water on to pretty shrines and gazed up at pink cherry blossom, but this is the moment I cherish the most. In front of me is a huge bowl of udon – thick, squidgy lengths of noodle in a steaming vat of broth, with two giant tempura prawns tucked into the back. Beside me an 80-something man in a leather jacket snaps a picture of his meal on his phone, before slurping up his noodles to a soundtrack of Belinda Carlisle.

This is Pekopeko, a tiny little joint where in-the-know locals gather for lunchtime feasts. Here in Osaka, Japan’s second city and “the nation’s kitchen”, food isn’t a function – it’s a way of life. For a long time it has been a destination that has been overshadowed by its neighbours – it doesn’t have the high-impact shrines and temples of nearby Kyoto, or the vastness of Tokyo and its kooky cafés. And yet it’s an increasingly popular underdog. For the past two years it has been the fastest growing tourist destination in the world. In 2009

1.7 million tourists visited; in 2018 it was up to 11.4 million.

What Osaka does have, though, is access – a new direct flight from British Airways launched earlier this year from London – and restaurants. Thousands of them. Micro bars are tucked down alleyways and Michelin-starred restaurants hide behind ornately carved lattice screens – in fact, Osaka is so food-obsessed that its unofficial slogan is kuiadaore, meaning “eat ’til you drop”. Clearly I’ll fit right in.

My three-day food odyssey begins

in tiny Pekopeko. It isn’t the kind of place you stumble on – its location, right underneath a flyover, helping that. I find its oil-slicked walls and its elderly owner, who stuffs five lollipops into my hands for dessert, on the recommendation from Yoko Inagaki, who runs food tours and cooking classes via her company Osaka Foodie.

I meet Yoko the following day, and we set out on a mission to take on the best of the city’s signature snacks, from takoyaki, golden, deep-fried octopus and batter balls with a crispy shell and a molten centre, to okonomiyaki, a pancake-esque concoction of egg and shredded cabbage topped with lashings of sauce and bonito.

We start in Dotonbori, where zingy neon lights sit shoulder to shoulder with two-storey-high plastic models of crabs, sushi and ramen – or whatever the restaurant is selling.

The city, for all its culinary kudos, is not the prettiest place you’ll visit – despite its other nickname “the Venice of the East”. Gleaming high rises have replaced homes flattened during the Second World War, but the

Shochikuza Theatre, built in 1923, remains. Today, locals visit to watch kabuki shows, grabbing a bento box to eat during the interval from a nearby shop, Hirajyu, plus a lottery ticket, which enters buyers into a draw to win a slab of pricey wagyu beef. London, take note.

We pass Genroku, the restaurant that introduced the concept of conveyor-belt sushi to the country, making the previously pricey raw fish and rice combo accessible to the masses, and settle on Kamukura, Yoko’s favourite ramen restaurant.

She places our order using the ticket booth-esque machine inside, and we slide onto a counter seat before a plate of oishi ramen is placed in front of us. Then Yoko teaches me the basics of Osakan eating etiquette. “Slurp loudly,” she says, “to make sure the chefs have a good feeling.” And the most important one: “No double dipping – it’s very rude.”

We walk it off, negotiating the city’s cobbled backstreets, making a pit stop at the tiny Hozenji temple which has been located here since 1637, and was one of the few temples to survive the bombing raids. I follow the lead of the elderly lady next to me, dropping coins into a wooden box and hurling water on to a moss-covered statue of Buddhist spirit Fudo Myo-o, followed by a wish of my choice. “I always ask for a good shift at my friend’s restaurant, Unkaku,” Yoko tells me, “that I don’t drop their antique plates and break them.” Osakans take their crockery seriously, she explains.

We stroll on to Kuromon market, where dozens of food stalls are

HUNGRY FOR MORE Osaka’s Dotonbori district, main and right; spoilt for choice at Kamukura ramen restaurant, below right

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD Two of the city’s signature dishes, top, and a street-food stall in the Dotonbori district, middle above;