Otafuku seems to have no idea that it is wintertime. You might imagine that a restaurant with no indoor seating whatsoever would close during the colder months (see also: Shake Shack), but Otafuku in February is the same as Otafuku in July: busy, busy, busy. Most patrons opt to take their food and eat it elsewhere, but you’ll see the hardcore fans of Osaka-style cooking standing cheek by jowl inside, desperate for a little warmth as they chow down on their takoyaki and okonomiyaki.

In case you missed it, that’s the menu right there. Otafuku specializes in two dishes, offering them alone or in combination, and we recommend that you taste them both. The first, takoyaki, is a spherical egg-and-flour octopus dumpling that is made in a very hot, oiled mold. Position yourself outside Otafuku looking inside, and the bubbling takoyaki are what grabs your attention–because these are perfectly round little balls, they must be turned inside the mold’s greased indentations in order to ensure that they cook completely over their entire surface. The staff at Otafuku have this tricky maneuver down to a science: two chopsticks are stuck into the batter, catching hold of a bit of the cooked batter on the bottom of the mold, and the entire mass is yanked briskly upwards and rotated to the side. I watched in awe, knowing that my own kitchen would be splattered in egg and octopus if I were to attempt the same moves at home. Fresh takoyaki are almost always being made, which means that if you go, you not only get a chance to watch the show yourself, but you also will taste these little dumplings at their very best–still just barely runny, slathered in sweet brown okonomiyaki sauce, drizzled with Japanese mayonnaise, and topped with a fluttering pile of nori and bonito flakes that curl and melt when they touch the takoyaki.

Okonomiyaki are served with these very same toppings, but the two dishes are so different, there is no confusing them. Some writers compare okonomiyaki to pancakes, some compare them to omelettes, but I tend to think of them as more similar to latkes than anything else– but none of these analogies is very good, as okonomiyaki belong to their own culinary phylum. These thick fritters get their name from the phrase okonomi, which means “whatever you want,” and yaki, which means “grilled.” The name is a clue to the fact that they are sold much as pizzas are: you indicate what you would like to add to the batter of cabbage, egg, dashi, flour, and onion, creating a personalized meal for yourself. Otafuku offers four choices of extras: pork, shrimp, squid, and beef. The add-ins are cooked on the grill separately from the rest of the patty and are then added in at the very end, immediately before the okonomiyaki begins to set on both sides. And yes, if you prefer a fritter with nothing extra, that is also an option. [Strict vegetarians should take note that dashi contains fish, as do the bonito flakes.]

Our favorite item on the menu is the combination platter, served with six takoyaki and the okonomiyaki of your choice ($7-9). If you have never eaten either before, order the combination platter, which takes about ten minutes to cook–you can stand inside and groove along to the Japanese hip-hop CDs on constant rotation while you work up an appetite and watch the cooks prepare your meal. My personal preference in okonomiyaki is the ika (squid) version, stuffed with a very large portion of diced and lightly-grilled squid. HungryMan loves the buta (pork) variety, but they are all absolutely divine. Where to sit is a bit of a problem–the only real problem with Otafuku. If you live nearby, you could take your meal home with you and eat it there, but if it is cold outside and you live far away, you may end up sneaking your snacks into a nearby Astor Place bookstore café and eating them there. Ahem. Or you can just do as we did and take a seat outside on the wooden bench in front of the shop; the takoyaki and okonomiyaki should keep you pretty warm as you eat, and if our experience is any gauge, you won’t even notice the cold after a few bites.

Otafuku, 236 East 9th Street (between Second and Third Avenues), 212-353-8503