Tokyo Komichiya Pinocchio—Two-Stack Pancakes for 700 Yen, Baked by an Elderly Couple

Komichiya Pinocchio (小道屋 ピノキオ) is tucked down a side street off a main road in Kita Ward, Tokyo. The signage is small and the glass door is frosted, so even with my map open, I wal…

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Komichiya Pinocchio (小道屋 ピノキオ) is tucked down a side street off a main road in Kita Ward, Tokyo. The signage is small and the glass door is frosted, so even with my map open, I walked past it once. Inside, time seems to stop. Dark wood walls, brown leather-backed chairs, glass syrup bottles on each table. It's the complete opposite of the bright white walls and polished lighting in today's trendy soufflé pancake shops throughout Tokyo.

What makes this place special is the couple who runs it. Among the earliest to start baking and selling pancakes in Japan, they still prepare the batter and bake every pancake themselves. The grandfather stands at the griddle in the kitchen, the grandmother works the dining room. Even when orders pile up, the baking pace never changes. They tell you upfront that two pancakes take nearly 20 minutes to bake. This isn't a warning to stay away if you're in a hurry—it means 20 minutes is how long their batter needs.

Twenty Minutes on the Griddle, Pancakes Two Finger-Joints Thick

When the plate arrived, what struck me first was the thickness. The diameter was modest, but the height was impressive. Two stacked pancakes, each about two finger-joints thick. A rectangular pat of butter sits on top, with syrup streaming down the sides and pooling at the bottom of the plate. This has a completely different texture from the trembling soufflé you see all over social media these days. This is old-fashioned pancakes, puffed firm and solid. Looking at the sides, you can see the layered structure clearly—traces of the batter slowly rising on the griddle.

Two thick pancakes stacked on a black-rimmed plate with a rectangular pat of butter on top and syrup streaming down the sides
Two-stack pancakes. The glass syrup bottle on the table behind and the brown leather chair define the character of this shop.

You might think to snap a photo before the butter melts, but I did the opposite. If you let the butter sit on top for 1-2 minutes, the heat melts it into the syrup. In that state, when you cut into it, the cross-section shows those golden juices seeping in.

Everything About This Place Shows in That Cross-Section

When you insert the knife, there's slight resistance on the outside. The surface is uniformly golden-brown, underneath is egg-yellow. Looking at the piece lifted on your fork, you can clearly see the layer of syrup seeping between the two layers of structure. It's dense rather than fluffy. The taste of egg comes first, then butter, then the sweetness of syrup follows later. The batter itself isn't sweet, so even if you pour all the syrup, it never becomes cloying.

A cut piece of pancake held with a fork, showing the golden interior and syrup-soaked cross-section, with a knife resting beside the plate
The cross-section when cut. Uniformly golden-brown on the outside, egg-yellow inside, with syrup seeping through.

There was one small regret. There was more syrup pooled on the plate than expected, so the last few bites became oversaturated. Next time I'd pour only half the syrup at once rather than all of it. And two pancakes are quite substantial for one person alone. If you're having it as breakfast-lunch combined, it's perfect, but if you plan to order other things to share, two people can get by with one plate.

Handwritten Menu and Real Prices

When you open the menu, it's not printed. Everything is written vertically by hand. The paper has yellowed with age, tucked inside a plastic cover. In one corner is a hand-drawn "THANK YOU!!" sticker, apparently left by a customer. These details speak to how much time has accumulated in this shop.

A handwritten vertical-text menu spread on a wooden table with drink and toast prices, and a hand-drawn THANK YOU sticker in the bottom right
The handwritten menu. Left side shows drinks, right side shows toast, sandwiches, and spaghetti, with pancakes at 700 yen at the bottom.

Here are the prices as listed on the menu:

In Tokyo these days, where a plate of thick pancakes easily costs over 1,500 yen, 700 yen is an honest price. Even adding coffee brings you to 1,150 yen. That said, since these prices were captured in a photo of the menu, they may have changed—it's best to check in person.

How to Get There and Where to Sit

The location is near the coordinates on the map below. Since you have to turn into an alley off the main street, even after Google Maps tells you you've arrived at the blue dot, you'll find yourself looking around one more time. I had to scan the building from the opposite side of the street twice before I spotted the sign. If you exit at the station, opening your map and walking there is the most reliable approach.

The shop is small. With only a few tables, during lunch rush you'll need to wait outside. I sat in the seat along the far wall, and I'd recommend that spot because the brown leather chair makes a good background for photos. The window seat gets nice natural light during the day, but the glare is strong and washes out photos of the plate.

Good to Know Before You Go

There are plenty of pancake restaurants in Tokyo where you stand in line. This place, you spend time. You wait 20 minutes watching the grandfather's back at the griddle, receive a 700-yen plate, and finish it in 20 minutes. That exchange somehow lingers with you.

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