Is it an omelet, a crepe, a pizza?

However you describe it in English, okonomiyaki is a delicious layered snack from Japan that people here are beginning to know.

In Japanese, this classic post-war dish translates as: okonomi ("as you like it"), yaki ("grilled or fried"), which began as yatai (street food) and now is the centerpiece of many small restaurants in that country, and here, too.

Capt. Ken Saiki of Honolulu explains that okonomiyaki was unknown to Japanese who emigrated to Hawai'i in the 1800s because it hadn't been invented yet. The dish came about during the lean post-World War II years, when rice was scarce and wheat flour-based dishes were cheaper and more readily available (due to the U.S. Army occupation). Saiki is past president of the United Japanese Society of Hawaii, president of Honolulu Hiroshima Kenjinkai and Hawaii Meiji Kai and director of the Ehime Maru Memorial Association. He has helped serve thousands of okonomiyaki to Islanders at celebrations here and will do so this weekend at the Honolulu Festival, with the aid of Sammy Lee and his staff of Sammy's at the Miramar hotel in Waikiki.

Saiki explained that two styles of okonomiyaki have proliferated over the past 50 years: Chibo (Tokyo, Osaka, Kansei) and Hiroshima. Okonomiyaki Chibo is a thick, mix-it-all-together pancake in which vegetable and protein fillings are tossed together and fried on a flat, medium-hot griddle, often at the diner's table. Okonomiyaki Hiroshima is a layered snack, in which a thin crepe serves as the base for vegetables, fried egg and pork belly. In either case, the dish is garnished generously with paper-thin shavings of bonito flakes (katsuoboshi) and a sweet-smoky sauce that is related to deep-brown tonkatsu sauce.

The premium brand of okonomiyaki sauce and crepe flour mix is Otafuku, available at Japanese groceries such as Marukai, Shirokiya, Don Quijote and Nijiya at Puck's Alley. A representative of the Otafuku company will likely visit this weekend's event.

One of the major sources of the appeal of okonomiyaki is that it's so versatile: You can make it with any filling you like — chicken, shrimp, sliced beef or even meatloaf, grilled tofu or whatever.

But, said restaurateur Lee, a Chinese who loves Japanese food, "the secret is all in the sauce." And the sauce is something you buy commercially: a deep-brown, slightly sweet, slightly acid condiment, painted or drizzled onto the finished piled crepe.

At his Sammy's Restaurant, Lee asked one of his chefs, trained in the Japanese tradition by a visiting instructor, to show The Advertiser how to make Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki. The chef's birth name is Winston Madayag, but his Japanese persona is "Chef Yoshi." (Only in Hawai'i: Japanese dish, Chinese restaurateur, Filipino chef, but still authentic.)

Working on a counter-size hot teppan griddle, Chef Yoshi swiftly put together the multilayered recipe:

• Pork belly shavings (hara mi, "stomach meat") like uncured rashers of bacon sizzled on the grill. (Bacon could be substituted.)

• Round, thin crepes, made from a dashi-flavored batter, cooked over medium-low heat.

• A mound of cabbage, dressed with a few drops of water so it would steam and cook.

• An egg, its yolk broken and muddled a bit.

When all the pieces were done to satisfaction, Chef Yoshi turned the crepe, layered the vegetables, meat and eggs on top, dressed the crepe with okonomiyaki sauce and Japanese-style mayonnaise from squeeze bottles, and covered the whole with shaved bonito flakes before transferring it to a plate. All this took less than 15 minutes.

And it was as comforting and filling as a loco moco.