Okonomiyaki is one of the first Japanese dishes that I was exposed to as a kid, not least because it was one of the first Japanese dishes that mom decided to try out when we were kids. (We being me and my siblings.) It was an instant household favourite for us then, probably because mom, being the genius she is, let us decorate our cabbage pancakes to our heart’s content, and in doing so, she cut down on the prep she herself had to do! (I always end up with way too much mayo on my okonomiyakis in my efforts of sketching out the Mona Lisa.) But well played mom, well played.

Now that her kids have grown up though (only in appearance, really), okonomiyaki dinners have become something of a rarity. But since I now know a tad more about food and cooking, I thought it’d be nice to bring this little family tradition back! Only, to appease the crazy cook in me, I took some liberty in changing up the recipe.

So no, these aren’t your classic Japanese okonomiyakis. Because instead of using raw cabbage to form the base of the pancake batter, I used sauerkraut!

This might seem all kinds of odd at first, but if you’ve ever heard of Samin Nosrat’s tried-and-true philosophy of creating spectacular dishes – by having a good balance of salt, fat, acid, and the proper application of heat – you’ll probably have an inkling that this dish could work very nicely!

Sure, for classic okonomiyakis, there’s already a good base of savouriness from the soy sauce and bonito flakes, a good slathering of fat from the mayo, a slight tang from the Worcestershire-heavy okonomiyaki sauce, and a nice contrast of outer char and inner mushiness in the pancakes after a proper fry in the pan.

But as those who have read Samin’s book – Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat – will know, out of the four, acid is often the one that is the most underappreciated/misunderstood. Oftentimes when a dish tastes bland or one-dimensional, all it really needs is a pop of vinegar or a squeeze of lemon to bring the whole dish to life. Especially to an acid fiend like me (I can drink lemon juice neat without batting an eyelid), amping up the acidity in a dish is rarely, if ever, a bad idea. And in the case of okonomiyakis, what better way to introduce some acid than through the main ingredient itself – cabbage! So sauerkraut was a natural choice, as not only does it bring a nice tang to the dish, it also adds a whole dimension of fermented funkiness, which I’m always game for.

The result was really quite something. If you could liken okonomiyakis to Yayoi Kusama exhibits – crazy chaotic, LSD-inducing works of art that tantalises the senses, this kraut okonomiyaki is like if Yayoi Kusama and Rammstein had a rebellious child that went on to make Du Hast-inspired art – funky, punchy, and almost aggressive in its flavour, but with plenty of heart and deep, Japanese synergistic meaning behind it. Make of that what you will.