Tonight, as I made my way home, the cool evening breeze carried with it the unmistakable aroma of street food—warm, savory, and a little mischievous, like it was trying to tempt every passerby. I wasn’t planning to stop. I told myself I’d head straight home… but fate had other plans.
The banchetto was glowing under the streetlights, lively and comforting in its own chaotic way. And there it was—that stall. The one filled with sizzling plates, bubbling batter, and the hypnotic dance of a vendor expertly flipping takoyaki balls like tiny planets on a griddle. I’ve avoided takoyaki for so long, convincing myself that it wasn’t for me. Maybe it was the texture, maybe the taste, maybe a past food trauma—I don’t even remember. But tonight, something was different.
Maybe it was the way the vendor’s hands moved with such confidence, wearing those crinkly plastic gloves like a culinary superhero. Maybe it was the way the ingredients—veggies, batter, toppings—seemed to glow under the warm lights. Or maybe I was just hungry. Very hungry.
Whatever it was, I found myself standing in front of the stall, ordering a whole serving like a brave warrior accepting a quest.
When the first takoyaki touched my tongue, I paused—fully expecting to regret this decision—but instead, I felt… good. Surprisingly good. It wasn’t love at first bite, but it was definitely the beginning of peace talks between me and the takoyaki world. Bite after bite, I felt myself warming up to it, like I was reconnecting with a part of myself I didn’t know needed reconnecting.
And the real plot twist?
I finished the entire order.
THE. WHOLE. ORDER.
No survivors. No regrets. HAHA.
As I walked away from the banchetto, stomach full and spirits oddly lifted, I realized something hilarious yet wholesome: sometimes healing looks like eating food you once avoided and discovering it’s not as terrifying as you remembered. Sometimes growth is soft and small—like giving yourself permission to try again, even if it’s just with takoyaki.
Tonight, I didn’t just eat street food.
I won a tiny battle.
And honestly?
It felt pretty delicious.
