• Mike Sula
  • They cut your okonomiyaki for you

When someone told me you could get okonomiyaki from a relatively new food stall in the basement of Richland Center in Chinatown, I sought it out, even though this savory mayo-and-barbecue-sauce-drenched octopus-and-onion pancake, sprinkled with shivering bonito flakes—aka “Japanese pizza”—is something you probably could only love if you grow up with it. It’s a gloppy, sloppy, mushy mess, and the stand’s octopus balls (takoyaki) weren’t much better, unforgivably undercooked and filled with gooey wet batter.