TOKYO—It’s a tale as old as time: a lil’ watering hole of a bar out in the sticks of Texas.
Its walls are lined with football memorabilia, license plates and various tchotchkes. The croon of country music fills the void, as you partake of the poison of your choosing. You occasionally nosh on a plate of country-fried golden-brown-and-delicious. A classic scene of Americana.
But you are not in America. You are almost on the direct opposite side of the Earth from it. You are in the Meguro district of Tokyo, and you are at a local bar by the name of Little Texas.
Little Texas is convincing
It’s only fair – we have plenty of Japanese bars in the U.S. The balance of all things must be preserved, and all that. Little Texas deserves much credit for its commitment to theme. I say this as a bona fide Texan of over half a decade. It is as close to our bar experience as you could ever hope to find in another country.
The wooden shack interior, obsession with cowboys, live sports on TV, the whole package. Aside from the more obvious inclusions, of special note is the attention to the minutia of our locale. I rather enjoyed the corner of Buc-ee’s memorabilia, and the somewhat overstated presence of Texas A&M merch is of course essential.
Like many a country bar, there was a small stage for live music; unfortunately, my group missed out on seeing a performance. Most of the musicians listed were local acts, and the music on the PA system was a mixture of American country with Japanese country – it is surreal to hear a proper croon in a language you can barely understand.
It’s also my understanding that a proper line dance is had every now and then – the members of my group needed no prompting to start a line dance, of course. (If there’s anything Texans love, it’s their own stereotypes. Which is how we ended up there, naturally.)
Sadly, UTA wasn’t represented
If they get points off for anything—no University of Texas at Arlington merch. Really, come on. I know we don’t have a football team, but…. Basketball! Come on! Please? I know Japan likes basketball, I’ve seen the advertisements!
Anyway, a few of my cohorts corrected this glaring omission by bravely sacrificing their UTA ID cards for the greater cause and pinning them to the walls. (I did not. Five dollars is $5, and I will avoid paying a replacement fee if given the option. If this makes me a spoil-sport, so be it.)
The food was a highlight – if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be Texas, would it? Fried chicken is something Japan has plenty of experience with, (thank you, karaage and Colonel Sanders,) so it should come as no surprise that I was delivered a delightfully crispy plate of chicken and waffles. May have been an odd choice considering Texas-fried steak was on the menu, but I’m originally from Atlanta—I was sick for a different home, if you’ll forgive me. To make up for my transgression, it should please readers to know that the waffle was, in fact, Texas shaped. The chicken’s batter had a bit more spice than the standard American crust, which surprised me; still, it tasted as good as chicken and waffles ought to.
At the time of our visit we were only a week into our travels, so I wouldn’t say our visit was inspired by any homesickness just yet. But it represented a small facet of the mutual cultural interchange between the United States and Japan. Our countries have an undeniable fascination with each other, and it was a lot of fun to be on the other side of the looking glass that night.
