Fujinomiya Yakisoba (富士宮やきそば)

The noodle decides this dish. Fujinomiya yakisoba is not soft stir-fried spaghetti in a sweet sauce, though it has suffered that accusation in distant kitchens. The real thing has a chew to it, a pull against the teeth, because the noodles are steamed and left firm before they ever meet the griddle.

That chew is the first secret, and the second is restraint. We cook the cabbage until it shines and softens at the edge, add the noodles with only enough water to loosen them, then let the sauce coat and dry against the pan. If it swims, it isn't Fujinomiya yakisoba. The sauce should cling, not puddle, because the final bite needs noodle, cabbage, pork-fat scrap, and sardine powder all speaking clearly.

Nikukasu, the crisp pork-fat scraps, gives the dish its old workman's richness. Dashiko, a powder of sardine and bonito, is scattered at the end so its aroma stays high and a little briny. This is comfort food, yes, but there is nothing careless about it. Keep the pan lively, keep the portion modest, and leave the noodles room to taste like themselves.