Hakata Bunka-ya Curry Shop – Fukuoka, Japan

My first time writing about a pocket whilst still being in it. Sometimes you just know off the bat.

Nestled on the corner of an unassuming street in Hakata is a tiny fifteen seater restaurant adorned with an array of yellow flashing signs and a red canopy you’d find at a European deli. Inside, there’s two, two seater tables and maybe fifteen more chairs that outline the restaurant. The entire venue is one room with the kitchen sitting on the left, just infront of a few seats. I’m not sure you could fit a cat in there alongside the chef, let alone swing it around.

I was greeted by an older gentleman with fantastic grey hair and a well kept moustache that stuck out ever so slightly above his white surgical mask. Almost in unison, him and the chef chimed their welcome and pointed me to any chair I wanted.

I chose a chair along the right wall, facing the bookcase, which I would soon find housed everything from a 2004 copy of the Deathnote manga to full blown hentai (don’t look that one up Grandma).

The older gentleman came over to offer me an English menu and I was soon ready to order. Thick pork cutlet curry and a bottle of coke. The total coming to 1650¥ (Circa £8.50 or 15,000W for those of you back home).

There were only three or four other diners but my food arrived in less than five minutes and the nice older gentleman thanked me for waiting, a level of politeness you’d only find in Japan.

I closed the suprisingly well-aged copy of Deathnote I’d been thumbing through and poured the glass bottled Coke over some crushed ice in a tall glass.

The curry was black, the cutlet was golden and the rice sticky. Before I’d taken a bite I knew I was in for something spectacular.

Like a savage beast I chomped my way through two thirds of the plate, barely taking a breath between mouthfuls, before stopping myself to ensure I actually savoured the last of the meal.

Considering how dark the curry was, the flavours were subtle, but just enough to make you long for more. From the red pickles to the plating, everything was masterfully crafted in this quiet, quirky little curry house.

I would’ve loved to stay and take in the surroundings a little more, but I was done and it was time to go.

As I left I paid in cash right by the door, where both the chef and the older gentleman chimed in once again to say goodbye as I exited.

I hadn’t had the best of days, but after leaving Hakata Bunka-ya, everything seemed a little brighter. Maybe I’ll go back for lunch tomorrow.