Japanese Street Tacos, Sukiyaki, and KFC

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Image of street tacos with shredded cabbage, sukiyaki. in a pot and chicken legs swimming with a goldfish.

Japanese Street Tacos, Sukiyaki, & KFC. Sounds like an odd group of foods, I know.

During our six-month WESTPAC cruise, the USS Jason ported in Yokosuka, Japan, for a month. It was a working port for us, so we kept pretty busy. But there was still lots of time to go ashore and see the sights and sample the cuisine.

And sample the cuisine, I did.

One of my favorite places to eat was a little shop tucked in a narrow space between two other storefronts. It was just wide enough for a service window, and from that window, they served Japanese street tacos. Of course, the taco shells were made with rice flour, and they were covered in cabbage, not lettuce, with a sweet and sour sauce that substituted for salsa. They were so good! I ate a lot of them.

I also consumed a lot of Sukiyaki, cooked table-side. Thinly sliced beef, mushrooms, and veggies were placed on the table, along with a Warshita sauce, and a hot cone-shaped grill was provided. You cooked the food yourself, eating and cooking at the same time. I ate a lot of it—it was so good.

The fun part about eating in Japan was choosing the food without always knowing what it was. Most of the restaurants only had menus in Japanese. But many of them also displayed wax versions of the meals in the window. So, I often ordered by walking up front and pointing to what I wanted. While I didn’t always know what I was getting, I always got something delicious.

The biggest surprise came when we took the train into Tokyo. The underground station was huge and crowded, and it took a while to find our way out. It was already near midday, and as we emerged from the station, we found ourselves in front of an odd yet familiar sight. A red and white building sporting a familiar face: Colonel Sanders.

A Kentucky Fried Chicken fast-food restaurant. It was quite busy, and I suddenly found myself craving the familiar.

After waiting in line, we stepped up to the window and ordered. The aroma of fried chicken and hot grease wafted through the service window, and I waited impatiently for my food.

When our orders came, we sat at a nearby table to dig in. But when I sank my teeth into the meaty chicken leg, it tasted like fish. I chewed and swallowed, then took another bite. It looked like a chicken leg. It had a chicken bone and was clearly chicken. But it still tasted like fish.

All the chicken tasted like fish to me. I didn’t like it, to be honest. It messed with my head.

Later, speaking to a crewmate of mine, I asked if they might have cooked it in the same oil as they had fish.

“Maybe,” he said, “but most farmers here feed their chickens a diet of fishmeal. That’s what you were likely tasting.”

After that, I steered clear of chicken, and I ate a lot more street tacos and sukiyaki.

 

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