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A dish that helps give Japan flavor

Okonomiyak­i eateries thrive across the country

- By Julie Makinen Los Angeles Times

Yoshihiro Ueuchi, who works for sauce maker Otafuku, shows visitors to Hiroshima’sWood Egg how to make okonomiyak­i.

HIROSHIMA, Japan — It’s midday on a Thursday and Yoshihiro Ueuchi is preparing to preach some culinary gospel.

He puts on a white garrison cap embroidere­d with his name, sound-checks his microphone headset, and picks up his hera, or spatula. Arrayed around two pooltablet­eppanyaki grills, 18 acolytes in orange aprons stand expectantl­y, ready to be baptized in the basics of okonomiyak­i.

The hot metal hisses as Ueuchi ladles a simple waterbatte­r onto the surface, swirling it into a perfect disk. Next comes a heapingmou­ndof shredded cabbage, piled up like amini Mt. Fuji. Thengreen onions, bean sprouts and thick slices of pork belly.

“Temperatur­e control is important!” advisesUeu­chi, telling his disciples to pump up the heat to 300 degrees Fahrenheit from 260 degrees as he adds egg, noodles and other ingredient­s, then finally drenches the mass in a thick, sweet, Worcesters­hire-inspired sauce. The 54-year-old should know: Ueuchi estimates he’s cooked 100,000 okonomiyak­i in his 30 years of working for Otafuku, the biggest okonomiyak­i sauce maker in theworld.

Part omelet, part crepe, okonomiyak­i (pronounced oh-ko-no-mi-yaki) is to Hiroshima what deep-dish pizza is to Chicago. Layered like a lasagna, it is as customizab­le as its Italian cousin and is as much a part of this Japanese port’s identity as its notoriety as the first city to be hit by a nuclear weapon.

In fact, the dropping of the bomb and the rise of okonomiyak­i are intimately linked in Hiroshima.

Before the war, the savory crepes — whose lineage can be traced to Chinese pancakes knownas jianbing— were sold as kids’ snacks throughout Hiroshima. Then, after 1945, war widows anxious to make ends meet started opening okonomiyak­i stalls and some converted rooms in their homes into small restaurant­s.

They threw in whatever ingredient­s they could get their hands on, such as oysters and squid and soba noodles cooked by their fellow stall owners, along with ration ingredient­s provided by the U.S. occupiers. The elaboratio­nwas allwell and good, because okonomiyak­i literally means “whatever you like— grilled,” and in the lean years after the war, cheap one-dish meals were all many Hiroshiman­s could afford.

But even as Hiroshima started to get back onits feet in the 1950s, locals couldn’t shake their taste for okonomiyak­i. SeiichiSas­aki, who opened a vinegar shop in 1922 and later got into making Worcesters­hire sauce, smelled an opening and began canvassing Hiroshima, asking cooks howhis company could improve its products. After one chef complained­thatWorces­tershire was too thin and always ran off his okonomiyak­i, Sasaki took the idea back to his brewery and in 1952 launched his special sauce.

Nowadays, Otafuku pumps out 210,000 bottles of okonomiyak­i sauce per day in Japan, along with an equal number of other bottles of condiments includingm­ayonnaise andvinegar. In fall 2013, the company opened a factory in Los Angeles, where Otafuku produces 140,000 gallons of sauce a year for the U.S. market under the brand name OtaJoy.

But company Naoyoshi Sasaki, President grandson of Otafuku’s founder, knows that his product is more niche than, say, ketchup or mustard. If the public were to lose its taste for okonomiyak­i, his empire and his 600 employees would be in jeopardy. So Otafuku, he says, must relentless­ly evangelize.

“We have to expand the culture of okonomiyak­i, continuall­y,” says Sasaki. “We have to educate people about it.”

For years, Otafuku has been holding demonstrat­ions and seminars throughout­Japanat department stores and other venues, showing schoolchil­dren, homemakers and profession­al cooks how to make the dish. In 2008, it went a step further, commission­ing a five-story okonomiyak­i museum, shop and education center on the western side of Hiroshima, designed by architect Hiroshi Sambuichi.

The structure’s rounded form is designed to echo Hiroshima’s Atomic Bomb Dome, a landmark 1914 structure that survived the 1945 bombing. But that somber note is balanced by a lightness of form. Made of timber and vaguely shaped like an egg (a key okonomiyak­i component), the building is known as the Wood Egg.

Ueuchi and others teach here, in multiple cooking studios — one for tourists, another for children and families, and a third for restaurate­urs who want to openanokon­omiyaki eatery or are planning to add the dish to the menu of their current establishm­ent.

Otafuku keeps close tabs on the number of okonomiyak­i restaurant­s. There are more than 1,000 in Hiroshima alone, which has a population of 1.2 million, but Osaka, which has its own distinct style of okonomiyak­i and has 2.7 million people, cancall itself Japan’s okonomiyak­i capital, with 2,850 eateries.

The statistics, though, hold some cause for concern: In 2009, there were 19,480 okonomiyak­i restaurant­s across Japan by Otafuku’s count, but by 2014 that number had shrunk to 16,551.

Some at Otafuku suspect the drop may be related to Japan’s population decline. The rapidly graying, lowbirthra­te country of 127 million people lost 1million residents between 2010 and 2015, and as older people close their mom-and-pop shops, they tend to be replaced with fewer, larger restaurant­s, said Akiko Tabuchi of the company’s public relations department.

Though Hiroshima is hardly starved for choices when it comes to okonomiyak­i eateries, people continue to open them. Otafuku offers a three-day, $300 class for current and prospectiv­e restaurate­urs. Shigenori Matsumoto, general manager of the museum at the Wood Egg, says the company encourages proprietor­s to find ways to make their okonomiyak­i unique.

“We tell people to have a distinctiv­e concept — like adding mushrooms if you’re in the mountains, or oysters if you’re near the sea,” says Matsumoto, who has written a book on okonomiyak­i and whose business card identifies him as “okonomiyak­i meister.”

Otafuku’s original sauce recipe has 50 ingredient­s, including spices, vegetables and fruits. Dates, imported fromtheMid­dleEast, are an unexpected key component, Matsumoto says.

But the company is constantly trying to introduce new products to keep up with modern palates — and keepokonom­iyakionpla­tes.

“If kids become devoted to okonomiyak­i when they’re young,” Matsumoto says, “we will have a customer for life.”

 ?? JULIE MAKINEN/LOS ANGELES TIMES ??
JULIE MAKINEN/LOS ANGELES TIMES

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