Okay, first things first. There is the sandwich and the sando. They might look similar — two bread slices, something in the middle — but they're different. And if you are looking to experience a sando north of President George Bush Turnpike, there is no better place than the recently-opened Yokozuna Bento·Sando. It might even be the best place to get a sando in all of North Texas.
What Does "Sando" Mean?
"Sando" (サンド) in Japanese is short for "sandoicchi" (サンドイッチ) or "sandwich." The Japanese love to shorten words — for example, remote control, or rimootokontorooru (リモートコントロール), became "rimokon" (リモコン), and Brad Pitt, or Buraddo Pitto (ブラッド・ピット), is nicknamed Burapi (ブラピ).
The longer word for sandwich was shortened, but in the process, it became something else — something Japanese.
How Is A Sando Different?
But are they even different? “I see people debating this all the time online,” says Jung Kim, owner and chef at Yokozuna Bento·Sando. “It seems like the definition is being written in real time.”
For Kim, and for me, sando, in their purest form, are served on shokupan or Japanese white bread, which is also called “milk bread.” It’s fluffy and has a texture that Kim calls “cottony,” as opposed to the spongier American white bread. So, no rye. No wheat. No pumpernickel. Of course, like sandwiches, sando have a filling in the middle, which can be creamy, as seen with tamago (egg) sando, succulent or savory, as seen with the katsu sando made from crispy pork cutlet, and can be sweet for fruit sando, made with sliced fruit and rich cream.
These three sando are Japan's most iconic and establish the basic grammar of Japanese sando: two slices of milk bread and a filling. If there is a condiment, the range will typically be shorter and likely consist of Japanese mayo or a savory sauce. Here’s how the sando differs further: Western sandwich making and its seemingly endless permutations, in which different breads are selected and then layered with different veggies, cheese and meats, and accented with condiments to create different flavor combinations.
“It seems like the definition is being written in real time.”
In 2001, when I first moved from North Texas to Japan, where I'd live for the next two decades, I was expecting Japanese sandwiches to be like what you'd get at Deli News: jam-packed with meat, with cheese and served on rye or a Kaiser roll. Instead, what I often found at convenience stores was white bread, a few slices of meat and lettuce — not the most inspiring sandwiches. But, I still remember the first time I had a tamago sando, Japan's version of an egg salad sandwich. It was at a Family Mart in Osaka, and the consistency was creamy, fluffy and, well, eggier. At the time, I didn't know the difference in flavor was due to Japanese mayonnaise, which uses only egg yolks and is less acidic. I don't even think I would've cared. I was hooked. Tamago became my go-to sando.
The History Of The Japanese Sando
It wasn't until I discovered Japanese cafe culture that the world of sando really opened up. During the late 19th century, Western-style food became popular in Japan. European-influenced dishes like tonkatsu or "pork cutlets" emerged, and as coffee shops became popular, the katsu sando became a common fixture in cafe menus in the 1930’s In the years that followed World War II, cafes or "kissaten" flourished in Japan, typically serving coffee or mixed juice and sando. The ingredients are simple, but the crunchy, creamy and succulent combination makes the katsu sando one of Japan's greatest culinary creations of the 20th century. No wonder it has spread well beyond Japan's shores to right here in Plano, Texas.
What Makes Yokozuna Worth Visiting?
They make a good sando — a really good one. Several, actual. The decor inside is simple, but as someone who has spent considerable time at kissaten, I like that Yokozuna captures the vibe of a real Japanese cafe. The music playing during our visit was pop music from the 1970s and 80s (think Happy End's “Kaze Wo Atsumete” or Yumi Matsutoya's “Rouge No Dengon”). It felt like I stepped from a Plano strip mall into a small cafe in an Osaka back alley.
But it was the sando that transported me back: fluffy, creamy, savory, sweet. This is exactly what I expected. This was exactly what I wanted. It was exactly what I missed. The bread was fluffy. The katsu was crispy and juicy. The cabbage was crisp. The fruit in the fruit sando was picture perfect, with rich and indulgent cream. The only other place in Dallas-Fort Worth I've been where the sando were near what I had in Japan is Sandoitchi in downtown Dallas. It's a drive, sure, and Yokozuna is closer.
The katsu sando is one of Japan's greatest culinary creations of the 20th century.
For Those With Dietary Restrictions
The oh-so-soft milk bread is locally sourced from Nine Rabbits, a bakery off Royal, near the excellent Korean barbecue joint Koryo, which is run by a Kim family member. There are no preservatives or chemicals. But the bread is not gluten-free, and Yokozuna does not offer gluten-friendly bread options. “We have done teriyaki chicken for gluten-free customers,” says Kim.
Yes, there are vegetarian options. For those who do eat eggs, but not meat, the tamago sando and the fruit sando are a delicious one-two punch. But things are more complicated for vegans. In Japanese cooking and at Yokozuna, katsuobushi or bonito flakes are extensively used, which might prove challenging for vegan customers. “We do have tofu avocado,” says Kim, and that could be an option, adding that Yokozuna is happy to work with guests.
Yokozuna Has More Than Sando
Often, bento boxes are either too fancy or lackluster. Here, Yokozuna's bento looks like something a mom (or dad!) would make for their kids in Japan: cute, healthy and delicious. That homey quality is found throughout Yokozuna's food, whether that's the fluffy sando or the Japanese curry. Here, culinary hugs are on the menu.
Kim, who runs Yokozuna with his wife Grace Kim, was born in South Korea, but grew up in North Carolina. "I tell people I'm a Southern Korean," he says. In 2018, he moved to Austin, but ended up in Plano to join his extended family, which runs some of Dallas-Fort Worth's best Korean restaurants. The culinary DNA races through Kim's veins. "I wanted to make an everyday sando place, but with that restaurant pizazz," he says. You can taste it.
"Sando are hot these days," says Kim. “And I see what I do as an homage.” A delicious one at that.
We thank Yokozuna Bento·Sando for treating and hosting us. You can visit the restaurant at 2711 W 15th St. in Plano — down the street from the old Local Profile office!
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