Okonomiyaki -- The Pancake We Make When the Occasion Calls for Joy

Mother's Day. I called Fumiko at seven AM Sacramento time, before the day could fill with other obligations. She answered on the third ring, which is two more rings than usual, and I heard the effort in her voice — the reaching for the phone, the summoning of alertness. But she answered. She always answers. "Happy Mother's Day, Obaachan," I said, and she said, "I am not your mother," which is technically correct and also Fumiko's way of deflecting sentiment, and I said, "You are everything," which I have never said to her before, and which surprised us both into silence.

The silence lasted three seconds. Then Fumiko said, "Did you make miso soup this morning?" I said yes. She said, "Good." And then she talked — really talked, more than she has in months. She talked about the cherry blossoms in Sacramento, how they bloomed early this year. She talked about the dashi she made yesterday, how the kombu was particularly good, a thick piece she had been saving. She talked about Miya's voice on the phone last time, how it sounded like bells. She did not talk about being tired. She did not talk about the walker. She talked about food and flowers and a two-year-old's laugh, which are the things that matter to Fumiko, the things that have always mattered, the things that will matter when everything else has gone.

I made okonomiyaki for dinner — the Japanese savory pancake, stuffed with cabbage and pork and topped with mayo and bonito flakes and sauce. It is festival food, fun food, the food you make when the occasion calls for joy. Mother's Day calls for joy. I made it with Miya standing on her step stool, adding cabbage to the bowl with her hands, saying "more more more" as the batter filled up. Brian flipped the pancake and burned one side, which he blamed on the pan and which I blamed on his technique, and the bickering was familiar and warm and for twenty minutes we were a family making dinner and the distance did not exist.

Barbara called. Her speech was twelve minutes long. Gerald nodded in the background. She told me I was a wonderful mother, which Barbara says easily and often and which I receive imperfectly because the anxiety converts compliments into obligations — if I am wonderful, I must continue to be wonderful, and the continuation is the pressure, and the pressure is the anxiety, and the cycle never stops. But she means it. She always means it. And meaning it is the gift, even when receiving it is complicated.

After I hung up the phone with Fumiko, after Miya’s small hands had packed the bowl with more cabbage than any recipe calls for, after Brian’s slightly-too-dark flip and the laughter that followed — I knew this was the recipe I wanted to share. Okonomiyaki is the food you make when you want everyone around the stove, when the mess is the point, when joy is the only ingredient that actually matters. Here’s how we made ours.

Okonomiyaki (Japanese Savory Cabbage Pancakes)

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1/2 medium head green cabbage, finely shredded (about 4 cups)
• 4 large eggs
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup dashi stock (or water with 1/2 teaspoon hon-dashi granules)
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 6 oz thinly sliced pork belly (or bacon)
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 3 green onions, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup tenkasu (tempura scraps), optional

Toppings

• Okonomiyaki sauce (or equal parts Worcestershire sauce and ketchup with a drizzle of soy sauce)
• Japanese Kewpie mayonnaise
• Bonito flakes (katsuobushi)
• Aonori (dried seaweed flakes), optional

Instructions

1. Make the batter. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, dashi stock, and salt until smooth. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Fold in the shredded cabbage, green onions, and tenkasu if using. The batter will look very cabbage-heavy — that’s correct.
2. Heat the pan. Heat 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil in a large nonstick or cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Let it get properly hot before adding the batter.
3. Form the pancake. Scoop half the batter into the skillet and gently press it into a round about 3/4 inch thick and 7 inches across. Lay half the pork belly slices over the top in a single layer.
4. Cook the first side. Cook undisturbed for 4 to 5 minutes, until the bottom is golden brown and the edges begin to set. Resist the urge to press down on the pancake.
5. Flip carefully. Using a large spatula (or a plate-flip method), turn the pancake over so the pork is now on the bottom. Cook for another 4 to 5 minutes until the pork is crispy and cooked through and the center is set.
6. Repeat. Transfer to a cutting board and repeat with the remaining oil, batter, and pork belly.
7. Top and serve. Drizzle generously with okonomiyaki sauce and Kewpie mayo in zigzag lines. Scatter bonito flakes and aonori over the top. The bonito flakes will dance in the steam — this is the best part. Slice into wedges and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg