Tomoyuki Kohno seems like someone who would rather be making pizza than talking about pizza. He speaks slowly, probing the words as they emerge from his mouth as though he’s hand-writing them down; we struggle to hear him over the background music. Our conversation is pregnant with pauses. We’re at Pizzeria GG, a cozy basement-level pizzeria in the backstreets of Kichijoji near Inokashira Park. Today’s ominous skies meant that the lunch service was relatively quiet for a Friday, but the restaurant was still full of customers, right until the pizza oven went dark at a quarter to three. It’s nice to know you can get a pizza at half past two – lunch options in Tokyo dramatically dwindle after 1:30pm.

The phrase “Japanese noodles” brings to mind so many things: soba, udon, ramen, shirataki, somen – all with their variety of width, length and material. Some are eaten dipped in various sauces, while others are served swimming in broth. Japanese noodles are included in stews and with combinations of ingredients as well. They are eaten hot or cold, at any time of day, usually slurped out of the bowl with chopsticks. They are sometimes a meal, other times a snack. What rarely comes to mind when Japanese noodles are mentioned is Japanese spaghetti.

The warren of streets surrounding Tsukiji – Tokyo’s main wholesale market – are filled with sushi joints, ramen stands, coffee shops and assorted other restaurants tucked between the stalls and knife makers. Walking around during morning hours, one might often wonder where the people who work inside the market have their meals. The gentrification of Tsukiji has brought such an influx of tourists that the early market is now closed to outsiders. Visitors are limited to the outer parts of the market and the food stands. Restaurants are jammed.