Some years ago, a Japanese friend suggested we have dinner together at a chanko-nabe restaurant because neither of us had ever been to one. Chanko-nabe is the fortifying stew that sumo wrestlers grow fat on, and they all learn how to make it. Many rikishi (sumo wrestler) who don't become stable masters after they retire but want to stay connected to the sumo world open chanko-nabe restaurants.
To me the food was typical izakaya (Japanese restaurant/pub) fare, and I thought it strange that there were no prices on the menu. When the bill came, our eyes almost fell out, it was so big. My friend asked for an item-by-item breakdown since it only listed the total. The proprietor, who had been cheerfully regaling us with tales of his short career in sumo's upper division, suddenly turned into a fire-breathing monster. What kind of restaurant did we think this was?
I thought of that embarrassing incident when I read about the recent scandals involving sumo and the criminal underworld. Last month NHK scored a rare scoop when it reported that two oyakata (stable masters) had helped members of yakuza organizations obtain choice seats at the Nagoya sumo tournament last year. The two oyakata have since been punished by the Japan Sumo Association.