"How are you going to get by if you won't eat sushi? They eat sushi every day there. They brush their hair with sushi. How are you going to brush your hair if you can't eat sushi and brush your hair with a sushi brush? HOW???"
I knew sushi was just one of many, many different things you could eat in Japan, but I couldn't help but get a bit worried all the same, to the point where it was one of the main things that scared me about going. I shouldn't have got so stressed about it; I cook most of my own food here, and when I go out to eat it tends to be either for noodles, Japanese-style bar food like tebasaki, or international cuisine. (The local Burger King is the only one in the whole region, which makes it exotic, see.)
By the way, tebasaki. Can we just...take a moment...
So, so good.
Anyway, I've only gone out for sushi here about half a dozen times, and I manage perfectly well eating the aubergine sushi and one or two pieces of the milder fish. If that's not deserving of a pat on the back and a sweetie I don't know what is.
My tastes are my tastes, and I know I shouldn't really feel guilty about them. I'm still up for trying new things, and on the whole my eating habits are relatively healthy when I'm cooking meals myself (lots of things with leaves on them). But I confess I start to squirm, just a bit, when I think about the fact that of my top five restaurants in Nagoya, only one is actually Japanese. Still, if going to lots of Japanese restaurants is cosmopolitan and sophisticated, I suppose going to lots of different kinds of restaurants makes me even better, possibly some kind of world-class travelling raconteur. Doing lots of racontating.
Anyway, here's my top five:
Solo Pizza - an authentic Italian restaurant in Nagoya's trendy marketplace-type area, Osu, where girls walk around in elaborate Victorian-inspired goth dresses and Westerners hunt for retro games never released in their home countries. The (Japanese) chef here won some contest declaring him the best pizza-maker in the world, and while I'm not sure I have the experience to corroborate that claim, I'm not going to dispute it either. There's a proper big oven and everything.
The pizzas are just a touch too small for my liking, but then that just gives you an excuse to fill yourself up by buying some of their deli offerings, such as risotto balls, rosemary chicken, perfect-looking lemon cakes and massive sausages. I always feel happy when I'm here.
Osso Brasil - about fifteen seconds' walk from Solo Pizza, this Brazilian place offers a bit of a contrast. There's much more of a rough-and-ready feel, with metal furniture plonked out front by a number of ever-spinning rotisserie chickens. Meals are purchased by putting money into a vending machine and buying tickets that you hand over the counter, a common method of payment here, which I love for its simplicity and reduction in post-dinner bill-splitting niminy-piminy. Chicken is the specialty but I love the coxinhas - pear-shaped fried drops of potato filled with spicy chicken. They're supposed to be a little extra something to have with your meal but I like to just buy about four with a side of chips.
Furaibo - hey, Japanese food! Furaibo is a Nagoya institution (well, something had to be). Its tebasaki (spicy chicken wings) is famous; there's even a branch in LA. I usually go to the one in the magnificent labyrinth that is Nagoya Station. When my parents came to visit I mistakenly took them to a different branch instead, which turned out to be run by an extremely angry old woman who would say "how much chicken?" to us and nothing else, but the one in the station is small, cosy and not at all terrifying. I'm not usually one for wings, but Furaibo's are sweet, savoury, tangy and incredibly moreish.
Momo - A new discovery, this. Walking through Osu with Nick, we somehow got on the subject of falafel and how much we wished we could have some. By chance we were walking down a seemingly empty side-street and - ta-da! - a falafel place. Momo isn't really a restaurant, since it basically consists of a storefront and two chairs, but I would happily stand to eat here, and I hate standing. Bonus points for the sweet mint tea and the honey-sugar crepes.
Taxim - I've only been to this Turkish place once, and I have no idea how it stays in business. Not because of the food, you understand, but because like a lot of Japanese businesses it seems to operate on some tiny street far from anything else of interest and could probably only be stumbled upon if you were an extreme eccentric who had decided to walk down every single street in Nagoya. Still, there's probably at least one guy like that, and I guess his recommendation was enthusiastic enough that word spread. I had the lunch set, which involved flatbread baked directly in front of you - in one of those big proper ovens with an actual proper fire in it - baked aubergine, couscous, olive oil, chicken, Turkish ice-cream and coffee. I will be returning as soon as I can so I can get my hands on their pide.
My tastes are my tastes, and I know I shouldn't really feel guilty about them. I'm still up for trying new things, and on the whole my eating habits are relatively healthy when I'm cooking meals myself (lots of things with leaves on them). But I confess I start to squirm, just a bit, when I think about the fact that of my top five restaurants in Nagoya, only one is actually Japanese. Still, if going to lots of Japanese restaurants is cosmopolitan and sophisticated, I suppose going to lots of different kinds of restaurants makes me even better, possibly some kind of world-class travelling raconteur. Doing lots of racontating.
Anyway, here's my top five:
Solo Pizza - an authentic Italian restaurant in Nagoya's trendy marketplace-type area, Osu, where girls walk around in elaborate Victorian-inspired goth dresses and Westerners hunt for retro games never released in their home countries. The (Japanese) chef here won some contest declaring him the best pizza-maker in the world, and while I'm not sure I have the experience to corroborate that claim, I'm not going to dispute it either. There's a proper big oven and everything.
The pizzas are just a touch too small for my liking, but then that just gives you an excuse to fill yourself up by buying some of their deli offerings, such as risotto balls, rosemary chicken, perfect-looking lemon cakes and massive sausages. I always feel happy when I'm here.
Osso Brasil - about fifteen seconds' walk from Solo Pizza, this Brazilian place offers a bit of a contrast. There's much more of a rough-and-ready feel, with metal furniture plonked out front by a number of ever-spinning rotisserie chickens. Meals are purchased by putting money into a vending machine and buying tickets that you hand over the counter, a common method of payment here, which I love for its simplicity and reduction in post-dinner bill-splitting niminy-piminy. Chicken is the specialty but I love the coxinhas - pear-shaped fried drops of potato filled with spicy chicken. They're supposed to be a little extra something to have with your meal but I like to just buy about four with a side of chips.
Furaibo - hey, Japanese food! Furaibo is a Nagoya institution (well, something had to be). Its tebasaki (spicy chicken wings) is famous; there's even a branch in LA. I usually go to the one in the magnificent labyrinth that is Nagoya Station. When my parents came to visit I mistakenly took them to a different branch instead, which turned out to be run by an extremely angry old woman who would say "how much chicken?" to us and nothing else, but the one in the station is small, cosy and not at all terrifying. I'm not usually one for wings, but Furaibo's are sweet, savoury, tangy and incredibly moreish.
Momo - A new discovery, this. Walking through Osu with Nick, we somehow got on the subject of falafel and how much we wished we could have some. By chance we were walking down a seemingly empty side-street and - ta-da! - a falafel place. Momo isn't really a restaurant, since it basically consists of a storefront and two chairs, but I would happily stand to eat here, and I hate standing. Bonus points for the sweet mint tea and the honey-sugar crepes.
Taxim - I've only been to this Turkish place once, and I have no idea how it stays in business. Not because of the food, you understand, but because like a lot of Japanese businesses it seems to operate on some tiny street far from anything else of interest and could probably only be stumbled upon if you were an extreme eccentric who had decided to walk down every single street in Nagoya. Still, there's probably at least one guy like that, and I guess his recommendation was enthusiastic enough that word spread. I had the lunch set, which involved flatbread baked directly in front of you - in one of those big proper ovens with an actual proper fire in it - baked aubergine, couscous, olive oil, chicken, Turkish ice-cream and coffee. I will be returning as soon as I can so I can get my hands on their pide.
If you live in Nagoya and have any other recommendations please let me know so I can eat food
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