Rice, Noodle, Fish (11 page)

The Osaka night begins to buckle at the knees.

(Michael Magers, lead photographer)

As we work our way through a second bottle of sake, Yuji presents me with two of his favorite pieces from his ceramics collection, a violet sake pourer from a young Osakan artist and a pimply pink bowl from southern Kyushu. I do what I've been told to do with all gifts: refuse once politely, then accept with exaggerated displays of gratitude.

Not a city, a sensation . . . lights grow, night flows. . . . Osaka decides, we can't say no.

At 2:00 a.m. the airline execs call for a nightcap. As we walk up the stairs to Teppan-Yaro, a bar not far from Yuji's restaurant, I realize that I have been here before, six months ago on my maiden Osaka voyage. That night ended in a blur of whisky shots and air guitars. Somewhere in my parting words was a promise to return soon.

We open the door and the room explodes. A team of line cooks working the griddle raises spatulas in a spirited salute to our posse. The owner, skinny with long hair and the faintest whisper of a mustache, comes from behind the counter and pulls me in close to his chest. “You came back!” Music is cranked. Drinks are proffered. The night begins to buckle at its knees.

Clickety-clack . . . Whisky Pete is back . . . #mayocoma! . . . one-eyed purple people eater.

The Stones bleed through the speakers and the shots ring out and the men work the
teppan
with manic fury. It's unclear if anyone has ordered food, but they keep cooking:
clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

The drink of the house is a purple potion made with vodka and juice and
crushed unicorn horns. A decree has gone out across the bar to drown me in this shit.

I'm not used to this kind of treatment. The tourist is a fragile species in Japan, treated with guarded respect and kept at arm's length. Japanese are unfailingly polite, and most will go to absurd lengths to give you directions or greet you warmly as you enter their establishments. But even then, you are destined to sit on the sidelines of this society and watch it unfold from the outside. Outside that tiny yakitori joint exhaling charcoal smoke and good times. Outside the incredible sushi bar that serves only Japanese-speaking customers. Outside the animated conversation taking place on the stools next to you. This is a dense culture, steeped in a history, a code, and a language that most will never comprehend, and so we stare through the window and wonder what it must be like to understand.

But Osaka leaves the door ajar, if only a crack. Walk into a bar with an open mind and a wide smile, and someone might buy you a drink and ask you what you're up to tomorrow. It might not always be true, doors are walls here too, but everywhere you will see those little slivers of light, and when you see the light, the only thing to do is step into it.

At the end of the night, when our stomachs are stretched to the snapping point and all I can see is purple, the owner turns down the music, quiets the crowd, and makes an announcement in Japanese. Naturally, I understand none of it, but cheer along with the crowd as he punctuates his sentences with hand chops and fist pumps. Until suddenly everyone is staring at me with glasses raised. The owner comes from behind the bar and presents me with a white bandanna, the same one that he and his team of cooks are wearing.

This isn't a polite gift for an enthusiastic foreigner. It's a key to a door I thought was locked forever. And, for this one night in Osaka, it is mine.

 

It's your first night in Japan. All is a mess of incomprehensible signs and inscrutable commuters. Then you find an izakaya—Japan's ubiquitous, open-hearted bastion of small plates and big drinks. In this, the most accessible and democratic of all Japanese institutions, you can have it all. Follow these steps, and your first night in Japan might be your best.

(Michael Magers, lead photographer)

(Matt Goulding)

START WITH SAKE

Izakaya means “to stay in a sake shop,” and rice wine should propel your tavern experience. The most important rule of sake: keep your drinking partners well lubricated, but never serve yourself (that's what partners are for). Start with a midrange
junmai
, a pure rice wine.

(Matt Goulding)

GO RAW

Next to first-class sushi bars, you won't find better raw fish in all of Japan. Izakaya sashimi plates typically deliver a mix of three to five different types of seasonal seafood, such as scallop, yellowtail, squid, or tilefish. A perfect match for sake.

(Matt Goulding)

BRING THE FIRE

Yakitori appears on most menus, but even better is whole grilled fish. Excavating the tastiest bits of a fish head with your chopsticks is izakaya eating at its best.

(Matt Goulding)