Two Weeks of Eating in Japan, Chapter 3.

Katsudon.

On the way to Ginza, we passed a couple of Americans walking back from its general direction, giddily describing it as Tokyo’s Fifth Avenue. They weren’t wrong. The scale of shopping opportunity there is insane. We spent way too much time (and Yen) in Muji’s and Uniqlo’s flagship stores, including a stop at the latter’s customisation counter where The European had to have Sakura blossoms embroidered on a shoulder bag she bought.  She then convinced me to get a cute little Daruma doll embroidered onto a new pair of loose trousers that will truly make me look Ginza-chic on the mean streets of Woolwich.

Ginza is most famous for its avenues lined with boutiques and building-high neon signs that create an unforgettable visual spectacle. For us, it was a reminder that we couldn’t afford much here, and the restaurants on the main strips were either fully booked or ridiculously expensive. We therefore segued into the back streets and found a little corner café that offered a range of Japanese food, from noodles to rice and everything in-between. I decided to order katsudon, a dish of rice, topped with egg, and breaded pork cutlet (tonkatsu). 

Katsudon is a hugely popular dish in Japan, said to bring good luck and, as Wikipedia told me, helps Japanese police officers in movies to encourage suspects to tell the truth. To be honest, I wasn’t impressed. There was an acrid taste from the egg that made the rice unpalatable, the pork was tough, and its breaded crust was soggy. We put it down to the restaurant, as The European’s soba noodles were also not up to par.  It was very expensive there too, compared to other places we found late that week.

A week later we were walking down the main road in Hakone, having dropped our bags at a lovely onsen spa hotel and awaiting our room to become ready for check in. We took lunch in the cute town, in a café run by two little old ladies, near the train station. They didn’t understand much (when The European asked them what the table next to us were eating, chaos ensued) but they cooked a mean katsudon, with a fresh, runny egg gooing into the rice, topped with a perfectly cooked and crispy tonkatsu. I have a feeling katsudon was designed to be feelgood stodge, and it certainly put the kind of smile on my face like only hot messes of food can. I was left wanting more but left full; the good food paradox. It readied me for the graceful, balanced kaiseki dinner we were going to be enjoying that very evening.