Katsu Shin is our new favorite spot for katsu, those deep-fried breaded pork cutlets our Japanese friends are so enamored with. It’s also versatile enough to be good for both a quick lunch (service is super fast) or a marathon drinking session.

With its dark wood, narrow shophouse location, long bar and dim lighting, the place has the cozy, tavern-like atmosphere of a true izakaya. But back to that cutlet, it’s almost an inch thick, not the least bit oily and perfectly tender. We’ve tried the classic hire (lean) pork version (B240 for a set) but these guys will bread and deep-fry anything—there’s an entire menu dedicated to crispy, perfectly cooked shrimps, eggplants or bits of liver. Ordered as sets, they come with a big bowl of delicious, fluffy rice and a little saucer full of sesame seeds with its own mini-pestle.

While a certain junk-food, or at least comfort-food, theme also runs throughout their other menu, you can at least find things that haven’t been dipped into a vat of oil. Raw fish dishes like the maguro tataki (tuna, B160) and bintoro aburi (albacore tuna B240) are lightly blow-torched instead. The result, particularly with the bintoro, is a firm flesh that seems to melt in the mouth—fantastic. As for the maguro, it’s served with addictive, if not particularly sophisticated, pan-fried slivers of garlic.

But mostly, you’re here for dishes befitting a day in the snowy mountains of Niseko: a hamburg smothered in demi-glace sauce and topped with a fried egg and some fries (B250) or a cast iron skillet sputtering with a mix of cheese, sliced onion and chunky fries (B140). As you’d expect, salads are doused in mayo, while desserts are floury and icky glutinous balls.

This isn’t refined stuff, but it sure does the trick. And when paired with whiskey cocktails (from B110) or mugs of draft Asahi (from B80), you can count on it delaying that moment where the salarymen wearing their ties on their heads stumble out into the night. Katsu Shin, we love you, and we promise we had sobered up by the time we wrote this. (Also note that you can smoke upstairs.)