I was reading an interesting webtoon that was created by Dom and Hyo, an American man and Korean woman website that shows living in Korea in a fresh perspective. The webtoon told the story of Dom ordering his first dinner in Korea. Take a look at the webtoon: http://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dom-hyo/my-first-meal-in-korea/viewer?title_no=1984&episode_no=6.
When reading this story, it brought a lot of memories of me ordering food in Japan for the first time. I have been living in Japan for almost 11 years, and I love eating at Japanese restaurants. Most Japanese restaurants that I eat out now tend to have non-English menus. Nowadays, this does not pose much a problem for me because I am able to read and decipher most things written on a Japanese menu.
However when I first came to Japan, this was not the case. About 11 years ago, I was living in Osaka. Osaka for me was a large interesting Japanese city with a boundless number of eating options. (I still love to go to Osaka on occasion and dive into the local dining scene.) Prior to living in Japan, I used to eat out at a lot of Japanese restaurants. I started learning Japanese when I was in university. I would go to Japanese restaurants and try to practice my poor Japanese. Eating at a Japanese restaurant in Chicago is totally different from eating out in Osaka.
On the first night of living in Japan, my roommate took me to a outdoor bar in Namba called Spats. (By the way, the bar is still there.) We met some fellow English teachers and started to drink. I asked my roommate what was good to drink. I had Japanese beers in the past, but I wanted something new to try. They suggested me to try the Miller Special. I was very familiar with Miller products, but I never had or even heard of this beer. I gave it a try. It was not bad. It was similar to MGD. Then, I decided I wanted something to eat. I looked at the menu and was trying to read it with my poor Japanese skills. Some of the expressions I was unfamiliar with. My roommate helped me by answering my numerous questions. I am grateful for him assisting me.
Another time when I was living in Osaka, I decided to go to a yakiniku restaurant that I kept on seeing. After work, I would occasionally walk from Namba to Shinsaibashi. On the street, I was constantly looking at the different buildings and trying to decipher what type of establishments were housed there. I came across a sign that I can still remember to this day. It said "Sex Machine". (For those living in Osaka, think of the Dotombori Hotel (the one with the huge head statues. This is the street that I am referring to.) I was very curious what was the "Sex Machine". I decided to go in the place and see for myself what was the " Sex Machine". It turned out that it was a yakiniku restaurant.
I had yakiniku for a few times in Chicago, but it was a while ago. I sat down at the counter and saw the menu. The menu confused me. I saw the offerings and the prices. I thought one item was for a large piece of meat. So, I ordered some kalbi. When the kalbi came to my table, I was taken a back by the size of it. It was not what I was expecting at all. I grilled and ate the meat, and it was delicious. However, I was still hungry. I started looking around at the other patrons of the restaurant to see what they were eating. I noticed large platters of meat.
I knew I wanted to have one of large platters. I looked at the menu and saw that these large plates were about 5,000 yen for one plate. I was still hungry and getting a little drunk from the beers that I was drinking. So, I decided to order a large plate of meat. When I was saw the sheer size of the platter, I became giddy with excitement. I started to tackle the large platter. I could barely finish all of the meat. I learned a very important lesson on that day. If you go to a good yakiniku restaurant, be hungry and have a considerable amount of money.
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