Tokyo, Japan — they call it otsumami (おつまみ)

You go to an izakaya to drink. The food exists to keep you drinking. Sit down and an otoshi arrives unasked — a small dish nobody ordered, 300 to 600 yen a head, and that is the cover charge. Order in waves: something cold first, skewers as they come off the charcoal, fried things later. Under the Yurakucho tracks it is the same food standing up, on paper plates, with a train overhead every ninety seconds. Nobody orders otsumami without a drink already in hand.