Contents
1. Introduction: When Expectations Meet Reality
Japan is globally praised for its rich culinary culture, with countless travel blogs, YouTube videos, and Instagram posts showcasing beautifully crafted dishes and unforgettable flavors. As a lover of Japanese food, I arrived in Japan with high expectations. Sushi, ramen, tempura—I had dreamed of tasting the “real thing” for years. I had imagined every meal would be a culinary revelation.
However, not everything went as I had expected. While much of Japanese cuisine lived up to the hype, some dishes left me confused, disappointed, or just unsure of what all the fuss was about. This wasn’t due to poor preparation or low-quality ingredients—on the contrary, the meals were authentic and expertly made. The problem lay in my expectations and personal taste preferences.
In this article, I want to share my honest experience with a few Japanese dishes that didn’t quite hit the mark for me. These are not critiques of Japanese food as a whole, but rather reflections on how cultural differences, individual palates, and internet hype can shape our food experiences in unexpected ways.
Sometimes, the dishes I was most excited to try were the ones I struggled with the most. And in a few cases, I found myself paying premium prices—like ¥2,500 (approximately $16.50 USD)—for meals I couldn’t even finish. These moments taught me to appreciate not just the flavors of Japan, but the diversity of reactions people can have to them.
So if you’ve ever tried a “must-eat” dish and thought, “Is it just me?”, you’re not alone. Let’s dive into some of the most memorable—and surprising—food experiences I had in Japan.
2. The Hype Around Japanese Cuisine
Japanese cuisine is often portrayed as one of the most refined and universally beloved food cultures in the world. From Michelin-starred sushi restaurants in Tokyo to cozy ramen shops tucked away in quiet alleyways, Japan’s food scene is romanticized to near-mythical levels. Social media, travel shows, and foodie influencers frequently spotlight dishes with glowing praise, making them appear irresistible to anyone planning a trip to Japan.
This intense hype creates a powerful image—one where every bite is supposed to be life-changing, and every dish an unforgettable experience. Words like “umami,” “authentic,” and “next-level” are often used to describe even the simplest bowls of noodles or street food snacks. As a result, travelers often arrive with sky-high expectations, myself included.
Before my trip, I binge-watched food vlogs and read dozens of articles raving about “must-try” items like wagyu beef, matcha desserts, and sushi made by master chefs. Some restaurants were described as offering “once-in-a-lifetime meals” at prices like ¥30,000 (about $200 USD) per person. Even humble items like convenience store onigiri were hyped as surprisingly delicious.
Of course, much of the praise is justified—Japanese culinary craftsmanship is genuinely impressive. But the issue with overhype is that it can distort reality. It builds expectations that are sometimes impossible to meet, especially for travelers with different taste preferences or cultural food backgrounds. When a dish doesn’t align with what you imagined, it can be more disappointing than it would have been without the buildup.
That’s exactly what happened to me. I expected every meal to be a perfect blend of flavor, presentation, and experience. When that didn’t happen, I initially felt confused or even guilty for not enjoying what everyone else seemed to love. This realization led me to reflect more deeply on how personal food enjoyment really is—and how hype can sometimes overshadow genuine taste.
3. Dish #1: Natto – A Fermented Surprise
One of the most talked-about traditional Japanese foods I encountered was natto, a sticky, stringy dish made from fermented soybeans. It’s often described as a “superfood” thanks to its rich nutritional content and probiotic benefits. Natto is a staple breakfast item in many Japanese households, typically served with rice, mustard, soy sauce, and sometimes chopped green onions or raw egg. After seeing it featured in countless YouTube taste tests and cultural deep-dives, I was genuinely curious—and a bit excited—to try it myself.
I first tried natto at a small local restaurant in Tokyo where a traditional Japanese breakfast set was offered for about ¥800 (around $5.50 USD). The staff kindly explained how to stir it properly to activate the sticky texture and enhance the flavor. I appreciated the care and tradition behind the dish, but the moment I took my first bite, I was overwhelmed by the pungent smell and uniquely slimy texture.
The taste itself was earthy, somewhat bitter, and not as flavorful as I expected. But it was really the texture that caught me off guard—it was unlike anything I had experienced before. The sticky strings clung to my chopsticks and stretched endlessly, making it a bit challenging to eat gracefully. I tried to be open-minded and respectful, but halfway through the bowl, I realized I couldn’t finish it.
What surprised me most was how much Japanese people seem to love natto—or at least tolerate it as a healthy part of daily life. For many locals, it’s a comfort food tied to childhood memories and well-being. But for outsiders like me, it can be an acquired taste that takes time (and maybe several tries) to appreciate.
In retrospect, I admire natto for what it represents: tradition, nutrition, and a deep connection to Japanese culinary culture. However, I also learned that not every dish, no matter how culturally significant or widely recommended, will suit every palate. And that’s okay. Even in a food paradise like Japan, it’s perfectly natural to have a few misses among the hits.
4. Dish #2: Uni – The Ocean’s Acquired Taste
Among all the luxurious ingredients in Japanese cuisine, uni—or sea urchin—stands out as one of the most intriguing. Celebrated as a delicacy, uni is praised for its creamy texture, briny sweetness, and deep umami flavor. It’s a common feature in high-end sushi restaurants and often highlighted as a must-try for adventurous food lovers. Influencers and food critics describe it as “the taste of the ocean,” and many even rank it as their favorite sushi topping. With such high praise, I couldn’t wait to try it myself.
My first experience with uni was at a renowned sushi restaurant in Osaka, where a single piece of uni sushi cost ¥1,200 (about $8 USD). The chef placed it delicately on a bed of vinegared rice, wrapped in crisp seaweed. It looked beautiful—like golden-orange treasure nestled atop a carefully crafted bite. I was genuinely excited and felt like I was about to taste something truly special.
But the moment it touched my tongue, I was hit with an intense wave of ocean flavor—far stronger than I had anticipated. The texture was extremely soft, almost custard-like, and melted quickly in my mouth, releasing a flavor that reminded me of tidepools, seaweed, and saltwater. Unfortunately, instead of savoring it, I found myself struggling to keep it down. It was too rich, too briny, and simply not enjoyable for me.
To make sure it wasn’t just that one piece, I gave uni another chance at a sushi market in Hokkaido, where fresh seafood is considered top-tier. I paid ¥3,000 (approximately $20 USD) for a uni rice bowl. While the quality was undoubtedly high, my reaction remained the same. I admired the presentation and understood the cultural value, but the flavor still didn’t sit right with my palate.
Uni is a perfect example of how taste is deeply subjective. For many, it’s a luxury worth every yen. For others—like me—it’s an overwhelming experience that doesn’t match the hype. I don’t regret trying it, though. Pushing culinary boundaries is part of what makes travel so rewarding, even if the results aren’t always delicious.
5. What I Learned from These Experiences
Reflecting on my encounters with dishes like natto and uni, I’ve come to realize that food experiences are as much about personal taste and cultural context as they are about flavor. I arrived in Japan expecting every bite to be magical because of how highly Japanese cuisine is regarded around the world. But the truth is, even in a country known for its exceptional food, not everything will align with your personal preferences—and that’s completely okay.
Trying foods I didn’t enjoy taught me a few important lessons. First, it reminded me to stay open-minded, but also honest with myself. It’s easy to feel pressure to like something because it’s considered a delicacy or because others rave about it. However, taste is deeply individual, and there’s no shame in not enjoying something, even if it cost ¥3,000 (about $20 USD) or came from a top-rated restaurant.
Second, it helped me better appreciate the role of culture in shaping our palates. Many Japanese people grow up eating natto, and their comfort with its unique texture and flavor comes from familiarity. Similarly, uni is seen as a luxurious treat, but it’s also something you need to acquire a taste for. Without that cultural foundation, it’s natural for a visitor to react differently.
Finally, these experiences taught me to embrace food not just for taste, but for what it represents. Even when I didn’t love the flavor, I respected the care, tradition, and identity behind each dish. Food is a gateway to understanding culture, and sometimes that means stepping outside of your comfort zone—literally and figuratively.
So if you find yourself in Japan and discover that you don’t enjoy every dish, don’t be discouraged. Every traveler’s taste journey is unique. In the end, it’s not just about what’s on the plate—it’s about the stories, the people, and the memories that come with it. And sometimes, even the “misses” turn into the most meaningful parts of your adventure.
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