niku? niku? nikuuuuuuuu

11:51 PM

Hi.

Today I took my brother to Hanamasa because my heart said “feelings,” but my stomach said “meat.”

Hanamasa: Me vs. Unlimited Meat

So… what is Hanamasa?

All-you-can-eat Japanese BBQ + shabu-shabu. Self-service. Conveyor-belt energy without the belt. Appetizers, kimchi, yakitori bar, tempura, the works. You pay once, then cosplay as a hungry tornado.

The game plan

Yakiniku: plates of niku-ness straight to the grill. My forever bias.
Shabu-shabu: two soup options, classic beef broth or chicken if you’re in a soupy mood. (I wasn’t. Grill supremacy today.)
The grill (technical term: “sizzly round pan thing”) was clean and gleaming 10/10 would reflect on my life choices in it.

The waiting is the hardest bite

Self-service means you wait while the meat actually cooks (rude). I stalled with yakitori and a little tempura from the bar, then returned to my true love: sizzling slices that whisper “more rice, please.”

Aftermath

Plates everywhere. Sauce fingerprints. The kind of table that says, “they had fun and also no self-control.” Respect to the staff who reset the battlefield like nothing happened.

Damage

~IDR 140K per person (when we went). Cheap? Expensive?

Depends on how many times you say “last round” and then don’t.

Verdict: If you speak fluent niku niku niku, this is home. Bring an appetite, elastic waist, and a plan to pretend the dessert stomach is real.

happy eating!
ikkeru

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