I Landed in Japan Starving — Here's What I Ate First

My first trip, I walked past the airport ramen shops thinking I'd find something better in the city. Huge mistake. By the time I got to my hotel I was shaking from hunger. Now the ramen counter is my very first stop before I even clear the arrivals h...

Everyone told me to skip convenience stores and go straight to a restaurant. Those people were wrong. At 11pm when everything's closed and you just checked into your hotel, a 7-Eleven onigiri is the most beautiful thing on earth.

Not a Michelin spot. Not a tourist trap near Shibuya. A tiny standing sushi counter inside a train station where businessmen eat in nine minutes flat — that's where the revelation happens.

I didn't even like udon before Japan. Thought it was just thick bland noodles in hot water. Then I stood at a counter in Osaka and ate a bowl that made me question every pasta dish I'd ever loved.

Sitting at a cramped izakaya table with tiny plates of grilled things and a cold beer — this is the moment where Japan clicks. Not the temples, not the shrines. This dinner.

Before Japan, tempura was those soggy vegetables from takeout teriyaki places. Then I had it fresh, light, and so crispy it shattered when I bit into it — and I realized I'd been eating a lie my whole life.

Day two, 4pm, jet lag is crushing you and your body wants something warm and familiar but also new. Japanese curry rice is that exact thing — it's like a hug from a culture that perfected comfort food.

Ducking under a tiny curtain into a smoky six-seat yakitori spot where the menu is handwritten in Japanese — this is terrifying and also the single best dining experience I've ever had.

At home I skip breakfast. In Japan I was waking up at 5am thanks to jet lag and discovered that Japanese breakfast sets — miso soup, grilled fish, rice, pickles — are the reason mornings exist.

Osaka calls itself the kitchen of Japan and honestly it's not bragging. Walking down Dotonbori eating takoyaki out of a paper boat while neon lights reflect off the canal — that's peak travel right there.

Night three, wide awake at 2am, staring at the hotel ceiling. Instead of fighting it, I put on pants and went outside — and discovered that Japan at 2am has better food than most cities at 7pm.

Nobody told me that Japanese vending machines sell hot corn soup in a can, and finding that out at a train platform in November while shivering changed my entire understanding of what vending machines could be.