Takenosuke's specialty noodle dish is a treat for the tongue, but not necessarily the eyes

One of my more foolish restaurant experiences before I came to Beijing was at a tiny Japanese place in San Francisco that served bar food. I went alone, sort of as a pat on the back for a good day's work.

I remember sitting at the counter, some small talk with patrons, a blur of toasts and then the chef sitting with me to serve his preferred bottle of spirits. The night ended with me waking up on someone's front step with absolutely no knowledge of where my right shoe had gone.

The one problem when I tell this tale is my inability to describe what I ate or drank. Frankly, I don't remember. After that night (cue sob track), I vowed to slow down and never let a good meal pass me by. For the most part, I've kept that promise. That is, until my girlfriend and I went for Japanese bar food in Beijing last week.

Takenosuke on Liangmaqiao Lu serves the strange and colorful concoction known as okonomiyaki. Sometimes called "Japanese pancake", it was invented prior to World War II and became popular when rice became scarce and people had to be creative to feed their families.

The dish is often made with eggs, cabbage, pork, shrimp and squid, and topped with sweet okonomi sauce, mayonnaise, dried seaweed and bonito flakes. Think of an omelet in a Roy Lichtenstein painting without all the dots.

We started with a tall bottle of Kirin beer and a 720-ml bottle of Iichiko, a wheat-based sake. My girlfriend had already heard the fractured tale of my lost night in San Francisco, but I decided to tell her again, impressing upon her the need to help me remember every detail of our meal. She shrugged as I took in the sake's mellow finish, something akin to a smooth vodka.

The restaurant was crowded that night and service slow, so we each had two more glasses of sake before the barbecued beef tongue arrived. The glistening slices, charred perfectly at the edges, were tender but springy, slightly sweet but a touch gamy. It was fantastic.

Next came the okonomiyaki with pork, cheese, corn and buckwheat noodles. Served on a skillet, the dish looks grotesque, like something a child made for his mother. To my surprise, it tasted not unlike a plate of fried noodles loaded with shredded cabbage in a blanket of fluffy eggs. It also paired well with the sake, which was going down fast at this point.

The Kansai-style okonomiyaki was even stranger than the previous plate, with a topping of slightly undercooked bacon and bonito flakes. Messy, gooey, spicy and fishy, it took a while for me to register what I was eating. Yet, the more I ate, the more I liked this alchemy of flavors; or perhaps it was because of the sake. What is it about okonomiyaki that prompts hearty drinking?

I returned home heartily satisfied and with my memory intact. The same, however, could not be said for my girlfriend, who over breakfast the next morning sleepily asked me: "When are we going to that Japanese restaurant?"

China Daily

(China Daily 04/07/2011)