Sakai Steel to Stadium Cheers

 Sep 9, 2025

After breakfast at our hotel—a buffet with both Japanese and Western options—we hopped on the train to Sakai, a city that's been famous for producing handcrafted knives for more than 600 years. Originally known for forging samurai swords, Sakai's craftsmen transitioned to kitchen knives after swords were banned during the Meiji era. Today, many of Japan's top chefs still seek out Sakai blades because of their incredible craftsmanship. Needless to say, Evan was in heaven. (And I'm so glad this was worth it because the walk from the train to the knife shop was 20 minutes in direct sunlight at 100 degrees and Evan was not liking that one bit) 

We spent time admiring knives of every shape, size, and material. We learned about carbon steel versus stainless steel (one holds a sharper edge but requires much more maintenance), hand-forged blades versus machine-pressed blades, and beautiful Damascus steel, whose dozens of folded layers create the distinctive rippling patterns on the blade. Even the handles came in a surprising variety of materials, including oak, stone, and buffalo horn. It didn't take long to discover one very important thing: Evan has expensive taste. (but that should be obvious because he chose me 😉) After much deliberation, he chose THE knife, along with a beautifully crafted wooden sheath called a saya to protect it.

From there, we visited the Sakai Knife Museum, where we learned that a traditional Japanese knife is rarely the work of just one person. Each knife passes through the hands of three master craftsmen: the blacksmith, who forges the blade and engraves it with his signature; the sharpener, who creates its razor-sharp edge; and the handle maker, who finishes the piece. It was fascinating to realize just how much expertise goes into creating a single kitchen knife.

After all that shopping, we rewarded ourselves by heading back to our favorite food market for lunch. This time we sampled eel over egg, pork katsu, and fresh king crab. Choosing the crab was half the fun. We picked our own leg, watched it go straight onto the grill, and then waited while the stall owner tried to figure out where exactly they were going to seat us. He sent us to walk around the market a bit, however after returning, they still hadn't solved the problem, so they unfolded a card table in the corner just for us. Armed with gloves and kitchen scissors, we dug into some of the most tender crab either of us had ever tasted.

We decided to treat ourselves by booking massages after lunch. We were on vacation after all. Lost in translation, our full-body massages became foot massages and our serene atmosphere became a big screen TV with surround sound. What was playing you ask? Jurassic World. Nothing says relaxation like listening to people scream as they're being eaten by dinosaurs. To add to the fun, the man giving me my massage was using so much pressure on my feet that my legs were twitching. I had to ask him to ease up several times to which he would nod, wait until I closed my eyes, and then resume his hard as nails squeezing on the balls of my feet. 

Despite the dinosaur soundtrack and the near-death foot massage, I have to admit, my feet felt amazing afterward.

That evening we boarded the train to Hanshin Koshien Stadium, home of the Hanshin Tigers and one of Japan's most iconic baseball venues. Opened in 1924, it's the country's oldest professional baseball stadium and is considered a pilgrimage site for baseball fans. The atmosphere was unlike anything we'd ever experienced. Every single player has their own personalized cheering song, and the crowd knows every word. A conductor and drummer lead the chants while thousands of fans clap, sing, and cheer in perfect unison. Even though we had no idea what we were saying, it was impossible not to get caught up in the energy.

One of the most unique things about the game was the beer girls. They wore mini kegs on their backs and when you waved them over they poured draft beer directly at your seat. At six dollars a beer we couldn't say no. We noticed the guys in front of us drinking bright pink beverages and asked what they were. Despite speaking very little English, he immediately ordered one for us to try. In fact, he kept using his drink vouchers to buy us more beverages throughout the game and even shared some of his jerky with us.

A few innings later, someone behind us leaned forward and asked, "Did I hear you say you're from Chicago?" It turned out he was from Osaka but had just finished his freshman year at Northwestern University in Evanston. He was heading back to Illinois in less than a week to start his sophomore year. We spent much of the game chatting with him and his mother, who didn't speak much English but insisted we try some traditional green tea sweets she'd brought with her. Before the game ended, we exchanged phone numbers and restaurant recommendations, hoping we'd have the chance to meet up once he was back in Chicago.

One of the things that continued to surprise us throughout Japan was just how kind everyone was. Time and time again, complete strangers went out of their way to make us feel welcome, whether that meant buying us a drink, sharing a snack, or simply making conversation. It was something we noticed almost every day, and this night at the ballpark was one of the best examples.

On the way back to the hotel, we made a quick stop in Shinsaibashi for what can only be described as a glamorous international dinner. McDonald's. 😆

We gave the claw machines another shot (still no luck), made one final attempt to find Evan his elusive late-night gyoza, and eventually admitted defeat.

After a full day of knife shopping, dino massages, baseball cheering, and making new friends, we headed back to the hotel and called it a night.