Japanese winter traditions: Odén and the art of cozy living
When I first moved to Japan, I’ll admit. odén didn’t win me over right away. A simmering pot of assorted ingredients like daikon, boiled eggs, konnyaku, and fish cakes floating in a light soy-flavored broth? It felt unfamiliar, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
But like many things in Japan, odén is a slow burn. Over time, I came to appreciate its quiet charm. Now, it’s one of my favorite winter comforts, especially when enjoyed sitting at the kotatsu, that magical heated table I wrote about recently. There’s something deeply grounding about gathering around a warm pot, watching steam rise as flavors deepen, and sharing bites with loved ones while your legs stay toasty under the blanket.
As far as I could figure out, it seems like odén’s story stretches back centuries. Its earliest form appeared in the Muromachi period (1336–1573) as dengaku, skewered tofu or konnyaku grilled and topped with miso. During the Edo period (1603–1868), this evolved into nikomi dengaku, where ingredients were simmered in a soy-based broth, making oden a popular street food in bustling Edo (now Tokyo). By the Meiji era, odén had spread across Japan, adapting to local tastes and ingredients. The dish became even more accessible in the Showa era, when convenience stores began selling it, turning oden into a staple of everyday winter life.
Today, odén is found everywhere, from cozy izakayas to konbini counters, and each region adds its own twist. In Kansai, the broth is bolder; in Nagoya, it’s miso-based; and in Shizuoka, ingredients are skewered and sprinkled with dried fish powder. Despite these variations, the essence remains the same: warmth, simplicity, and shared comfort.
Odén isn’t flashy. It’s humble, nourishing, and deeply seasonal. If you make it from scratch it teaches patience, ingredients are simmered for hours to absorb the broth, and it invites mindfulness. Even if you buy your odén in the supermarket ready made like we do, you don’t rush odén. You savor it.
For me, odén has become a symbol of winter coziness in Japan. It’s a reminder that warmth isn’t just about temperature, it’s about atmosphere, intention, and connection. And, you can add even more heat with a bit of karashi on the side!
What’s your go-to cozy simmered winter dish?
