Ask For It By Name!

"England and America are two countries separated by a common language." --George Bernard Shaw.

Adding Japanese to the mix doesn't clear anything up.

From page 31 of volume 387, number 8581 of The Economist (emphasis in original):

Japan is the true fast-food nation, and Tokyo's food-on-the-run is vast and diverse: at its best a thing of genius, while at its worst it can out-affront anything the United States has to offer. A bottom-up tour gives a sense of the possibilities. At the ubiquitous combini (convenience store) that caters to millions of salarymen, students and shiftworkers each day, you find not just the yakisoba dog, but also the potato-salad sandwich (available in vending machines too), the katsu sando (breaded pork-cutlet sandwich) and the curry pan, in essence a doughnut with a slurry of curry powder and meat gristle injected into the middle of it, irradiated for longevity.

Friends of mine showing discrimination in other parts of their lives confess to a fondness for such outrages, though even they cannot swallow the Homo sausage.

The online edition explains that the homo sausage that cannot be swallowed is actually "an emulsified, shrink-wrapped fish sausage."