Okinawan food is — for me at least — the food of summer. When the days are short and chill, I have little interest in the flavors of Japan's southwestern isles. But when the heat and humidity build like a thunderhead, that is the time the cravings arise.
Knobbly jade-green gourds of piercing bitterness; juicy, rich cubes of fatty pork belly; fermented tofu, tangily redolent of blue cheese; crunchy seaweed clusters shaped like miniature bunches of grapes. These are tastes and textures that beckon me like an exotic overseas holiday.
There's only one drawback. Most Okinawan restaurants in Tokyo are about as basic as a backpacking beach trip. They are tasty, colorful and fun, and above all affordable. But they can leave you feeling like you're dining with sand between your toes.