Tokyo is known as a foodie destination. We are simple people and one of us is more meatasaurus than foodie. So alas, no Michelin stars. Instead, we seek out the unusual and the common. I love to find the places where ordinary people flock to eat. I grew up eating in country diners where pick up trucks lined the parking lots. A general rule of thumb when traveling was to look where all the cars parked. If the lot was crowded, it was worth a try. It is still a good rule.

So this trip we ate in office buildings where we stood in line for amazing Thai food. We waited to have crepes filled with fruit and brownies. One crepe even boasted a filling of cheesecake. Definitely not high brow, but also undeniably delicious. Dozens of local standing in line for a taste can’t be wrong.

We had coffee, pastry, and even cake out of vending machines in subway and train stations. They were surprisingly good purchases. (with the exception of the barley water I mistook for hot tea. It tasted like grass….and not in a good way.)

Eating local is a grand adventure. We laughed until I cried when I couldn’t figure out how to use a ticket vending machine to pay for our meal in a soba restaurant and accidentally ordered two extra meals. oops.

In a suburb, we decided to try the businessman’s steak lunch. As the lone woman in the restaurant, I looked around the space to see if there was some unwritten code. Apparently, the large cuts of meat attracts a certain crowd. They were all wearing giant bibs. Weird.

After we ordered and waited for a while bibs were delivered to our table. We kept talking. The cook came out of the kitchen and marched to our table. “You put on. I bring meat!”, he said forcefully. My son’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Yikes! We put on, because wanted him to bring meat. When our food comes we understand. The plates are red hot iron. The meat cooks in front of us and the sauce they use to baste the meat flies in every direction. Soon our bibs are covered. The men in my life were very happy with the choice. While I don’t love meat, so was I. It was a cultural experience.

Sometimes we ate traditional food with a view. I can say I ate rice and looked over a lake beneath the iconic Mount Fuji. I was entertained by cigar store Indians, a replica of the Statue of Liberty, and even Godzilla himself as I dined. I ate burgers, dumplings, seaweed, and fish eggs.

But most days, in the best sense of the phrase, we ate simple traditional meals. This included a miso soup, a main meat or noodle dish, a bowl of rice, and some pickled vegetables. Filling and unassuming. Just the way we like to travel.