世界食堂Ⅱ。

世界食堂Ⅱ。

世界食堂Ⅱ。

異国は、遠くにあるとは限らない、という話。

世界食堂Ⅱ。

街で外国人を見かけることは、もう特別ではなくなった。 でも、「外国人」という言葉でひとまとめにされ、 顔や声までは見えてこないことがあるのも現実。 距離は、まだ遠い。 以前、yoffでは「世界食堂」という特集を行いました。 その反響を受け、今回「世界食堂Ⅱ」として、 パキスタン、クルド、ベトナム、オランダの食堂を訪ねました。 知らない言葉、見慣れない料理。 だけど席についてみれば、その距離は思っているより近いものです。 一緒に食べる。それだけで、少しわかり合えることがあります。 そんな距離の取り方を、この特集で感じてもらえたら嬉しいです。

世界食堂Ⅱ。

Feature | 2026.5.22


異国は、遠くにあるとは限らない、という話。

On how foreign lands are not always far away.

Seeing foreign residents in our streets has become commonplace. Yet, under the broad label of “foreigners,” individual faces and voices can sometimes remain blurred, leaving a quiet sense of distance between us.
Following the profound response to our previous feature,
we now present Global Eateries 2. In this edition,
we visited the kitchens and tables of Vietnam, Pakistan, Kurdistan, and the Netherlands.
The languages may be unfamiliar and the dishes new. However, once you take a seat, you realize the distance is much shorter than you imagined. There is a simple,
shared understanding that grows when we eat together.
Through this feature, we hope you discover
that bridging the gap starts with a single, shared meal.

Foreign lands are not always far away.
Sometimes they lie just beyond the usual street, folded into a city we think we know.
Beyond doors are unfamiliar languages and unfamiliar smells.
Yet for the people who live there, it is simply everyday life.
The question is whether we step inside. That alone will change what we see.
Sometimes sitting down at a dining table is all it takes to close the distance.
Pakistan, Turkey, Vietnam, the Netherlands.
I visited four eateries.


In Japan, foreign residents are no longer a “special” presence. From convenience stores to construction sites, they are part of our daily landscape. Yet, many still see them only through the collective label of “foreigners.” Fragmented media snapshots often keep us at a distance, preventing us from seeing the person behind the name.
As residency regulations tighten, a contradiction emerges: we rely on their presence, yet continue to draw lines of exclusion. While systems matter, there is something we can do first—we can meet and talk. To find this connection, we chose the eatery.

In the kitchens of Vietnam, Pakistan, Kurdistan, and the Netherlands, people gather naturally. These aren’t polished spaces for tourists; they are extensions of daily life. You will hear unfamiliar languages and see unknown dishes, but if you take a seat, the distance is much shorter than you imagined.
“How do you eat this?” Such simple exchanges often lead to stories about their origins and lives in Japan. In these moments, the hazy outline of a “foreigner” fades, replaced by the vivid presence of an individual.
Sharing a table naturally opens the heart. The sensation of “delicious” can be shared with a simple smile. We don’t need to understand each other perfectly; simply occupying the same space allows us to connect. Understanding follows proximity. Rather than observing from afar, we must speak from up close. Open the door and step inside. The world is right there next to you.

八潮で出会った、日常としてのパキスタン。

Feature | 2026.5.22


[ パキスタン料理 Al Karam (アルカラム)]

Al Karam (アルカラム)

〒340-0816 埼玉県八潮市中央1丁目8−10
tel.048-949-6878

Finding Pakistan: An Everyday Reality in Yashio.

More than foreign cuisine, there was the reality of a life from another land.

Our priority was simple: do the people of that nation living in Japan truly eat here? Al-Karam, a Pakistani restaurant in Yashio, perfectly fits this description. Inside, the air is filled with conversations in languages other than Japanese, creating an effortless, authentic atmosphere. As a daily hub for the immigrant community, this restaurant remains a sanctuary of home-cooked flavors in a region long shaped by its international workforce.
Iftikhar, who arrived 11 years ago, speaks of Japan with consistent praise. Having worked in cities like Dubai, he finds Japan exceptionally safe and livable, citing everything from food quality to reliable public services.
His children are being raised here, with Japanese as their first language. They have integrated well into school life, where their religious needs—such as bringing specific lunches or wearing a headscarf—are respected without judgment. This environment of quiet acceptance is exactly why Iftikhar feels his family can truly call Japan home.The people of Pakistan, it is said, love to gather.

On holidays, friends and relatives congregate to share meals and long conversations. Since Islam forbids alcohol, chai takes its place—a richly brewed milk tea that marks every moment of rest. It is the first drink after the fast, serving much the same cultural role as beer does for the Japanese.
The menu stays true to its roots. Mutton curry is a favorite, alongside staples like biryani, seekh kababs, and haleem. Special menus are also prepared every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Staying faithful to flavors that satisfy those who grew up with them is the core philosophy of this kitchen.
The clientele is roughly 60% foreign residents and 40% Japanese. Many Japanese regulars have become fond of the food, often ordering takeout after their meal. The restaurant offers a nostalgic refuge for some and a fresh discovery for others, striking a perfect balance between the two.
“The customer’s feelings are what matter most.” This simple mantra defines the shop’s approach. By ensuring every guest leaves satisfied, they have built a loyal following that sustains this space. As you enjoy the aroma of mutton and the steam rising from your chai, you realize that you aren’t just tasting foreign cuisine—you are experiencing the quiet, everyday reality of Pakistan.

トルコの風景が、越谷にぽつりと現れる。

Feature | 2026.5.22


[トルコ料理 SKY CAFE & RESTAURANT ]

SKY CAFE & RESTAURANT

〒343-0805 埼玉県越谷市神明町3丁目54−6
tel.048-916-1461

A Turkish Landscape, Rooted in Koshigaya.

Another Kitchen, Bridging the Lives of the Kurdish Community.

In the suburbs of Koshigaya, Saitama, along an ordinary street, stands a restaurant that looks unremarkable from the outside. But the moment you open the door, the atmosphere shifts. Turkish music fills the air, and conversations flow in languages other than Japanese. This is “SKY CAFE & RESTAURANT,” a vital hub for the local Kurdish community.
With thousands of Kurds living in the Kanto region, particularly around Kawaguchi and Warabi, this shop functions as an essential part of their daily lives. The day starts early; from 7:00 AM, people arrive to enjoy simit—ring-shaped bread encrusted with sesame seeds.
Whether it is the breakfast buffet or a hearty dinner, the “taste of home” is served all day long. The women managing the kitchen and floor are generous and quick to laugh. Even without a shared language, their gestures and smiles bridge the gap. In this close-knit space, you almost forget you are in a foreign land.

The food is straightforward and authentic. The “Chicken Kebab” is fragrant and unadorned,while the “Pide,” a boat-shaped pizza,offers a savory blend of toppings on chewy dough. Thick Turkish coffee paired with “Kadayif”—a surprisingly light, sweet pastry—cleanses the palate. Every flavor tells the story of a kitchen that remains fiercely true to its roots.
There is a complex history behind why Kurdish people gather here. As a stateless nation spanning Turkey, Iraq, and Syria, they are often officially classified in Japan as Turkish citizens, making their true identity hard to see. Many live in legal limbo, facing unstable social positions as they navigate the complexities of refugee status and residency.
In the community, misunderstandings and prejudices can arise. Yet, data suggests that an increase in foreign residents does not necessarily correlate with a rise in crime; rather, the friction often stems from biased information and emotional barriers.
This is why this restaurant is so significant. Here, they simply eat, talk, and laugh—a routine that forms the core of their daily lives. For Japanese guests, it is a chance to sit at the same table with people who previously only existed behind news headlines. Rather than just tasting foreign cuisine, you are touching the rhythm of another world’s time.

異国が混じる団地の隣で出会う、本当のベトナム。

Feature | 2026.5.22


[ ベトナム料理 THANH HA(タンハー)]

ベトナム料理 THANH HA (タンハー)

〒245-0018 神奈川県横浜市泉区上飯田町3050
tel.045-878-1720

Authentic Vietnam, Thriving Beside a Multicultural Crossroads.

Inside “THANH HA”: Where Food and People Converge Near the Icho Housing Complex.

In Koza-Shibuya, Yamato City, Kanagawa, the quiet residential streets hum with an international undertone. Nearby lies the Icho Housing Complex—a sprawling postwar development that is now home to a vibrant community from Vietnam, China, and South America. In this neighborhood, a mosaic of languages fills the air between local grocery stores.
Just steps from the complex is “THANH HA,” a Vietnamese eatery with a powerful magnetic pull. From the moment it opens, the shop is bustling. Locals from the housing complex and nearby workers are joined by visitors who travel from afar—some even arriving by taxi from the station just to eat here.

Managing the rush is Nguyen. Despite his Vietnamese roots, his Japanese is remarkably fluent as he silent and efficiently navigates between the kitchen and the floor. Yet, he leads a surprising double life: on his days off, he trains in martial arts. With a muscular physique and an undefeated 3-0 record in the ring, the gap between his stoic service and his strength as a fighter adds to the restaurant’s unique charm.Upon entering the shop, the first thing that catches your eye is the array of Vietnamese groceries and snacks: bottles of fish sauce, stacks of dried noodles, and snacks in unfamiliar packaging. In the center, long tables are arranged for dining. It feels less like a “restaurant” and more like a local “eatery-meets-grocery store.” This atmosphere isn’t a deliberate stage set; it is a natural extension of daily life.
The storefront itself carries a sense of déjà vu. It has that nostalgic air of a roadside diner you might find along Nguyen Van Linh Street on the outskirts of Hanoi. The sign is faded, and at first glance, you might even wonder if it’s open. Yet, it possesses a strange, welcoming familiarity that invites anyone to wander in.
Located next to the Icho Housing Complex—a crossroads of diverse cultures—THANH HA is more than just a place for foreign cuisine. It is a fragment of Vietnam brought to Japan, left entirely untranslated. It is a world within a world, nested in an international neighborhood. Today, as always, Thanh Ha is alive with the hum of Vietnamese and Japanese voices alike.

オランダと日本が交わる食堂に英語が飛び交う。

Feature | 2026.5.22


[ オランダ料理屋&バー LIGHTHOUSE-TOKYO(ライトハウス)]

LIGHTHOUSE-TOKYO(ライトハウス)

〒185-0021東京都国分寺市南町2-15-6
tel.050-1361-4797

https://lighthouse-tokyo.com/

At the Crossroads of Two Nations, Conversations Flow in English.

A Hidden Space in Kokubunji: A Flat, Comforting Table for All Cultures.

Kokubunji, a refined and pleasant neighborhood along the popular Chuo Line, holds a unique secret: an authentic Dutch establishment called “LIGHTHOUSE-TOKYO.” Just a few minutes’ walk from the station’s south exit, you descend into a basement where the atmosphere instantly shifts.
Inside, the presence of foreign residents is striking. Yet, it is far from an exclusive circle; local residents blend in naturally, creating a diverse and open space.
“The Dutch are quick to close the distance, even with strangers. They treat everyone as a flat equal,” explains Hana, the owner. In this shop, spontaneous conversations often spark between people who have never met.
Hana continues with a smile: “Dutch people are very straightforward. They say exactly what’s on their mind. If they don’t like their haircut at a salon, they’ll tell the stylist plainly, ‘I don’t like this.'”
This isn’t mere bluntness. Behind it lies a cultural belief that ambiguity or hollow praise is actually disrespectful. For them, being honest is the ultimate form of respect. This fundamental value defines the very soul of the shop.

This straightforwardness, however, does not translate into coldness. The Netherlands consistently ranks high in the World Happiness Report, and general life satisfaction is remarkably high. People head home immediately after work, prioritizing family and personal time without hesitation—even if it means leaving before the boss. “Because their work-life balance (QOL) is so well-maintained, their relationships with others remain flexible and resilient,” Hana explains.
In this restaurant, the correct way to spend time is to simply strike up a conversation with the person next to you. Food and drinks serve as a natural extension of that connection.
The menu features “bitterballen”—savory, croquette-like snacks, and rustic soups or pies. None of the dishes are overly assertive; they blend seamlessly into the social atmosphere. A meal often becomes a conversation starter: “How does that taste?” From there, stories of a distant land naturally unfold across the table.
The shop also hosts events and English conversation classes, though these are less about formal study and more about social interaction. Sharing the experience with others takes priority over the curriculum—a very Dutch approach. Here, Dutch expats and locals alike drop by and sit at the same table. It is a place where radical honesty and gentle, flexible relationships exist in perfect harmony.

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