Ebi Katsu Sando (エビカツサンド, shrimp cutlet sandwich)

Shrimp is generous until you ask it to behave like meat. Grind it smooth and it bounces. Leave it whole and it slips out of the bread. For ebi katsu sando, the good middle is the whole matter: some shrimp minced until sticky to bind, some left in pieces so the sandwich still tastes plainly of shrimp.

You may think the frying is the hard part. It isn't. Keep the mixture cold, coat it lightly, and fry at a steady 170 C so the panko browns at the same pace the center turns opaque. Too hot and the crust races ahead. Too cool and the cutlet drinks oil, which is a miserable end for good shrimp and an unnecessary one.

This is yōshoku, modern Japanese food with a Western shape and Japanese discipline. The bread should be soft shokupan, the cabbage cut fine and dried well, the tartar present but not smothering. Honmono here is plain to see: sweet shrimp, crisp panko, cool cabbage, nothing hidden under sauce. Build the sandwich neatly, press it just long enough to settle, and cut with a clean knife. Leave it room, even in a lunch box.