Ramen is like chicken soup for the Japanese soul. A big bowl of steaming handmade noodles lurk like deep sea cables in a fragrant pool of umami rich seaspiced broth ripe with veg, pork and a perfectly cooked egg. Simple, egalitarian and delicious. This is the food of Gods, and a workday lunch for most of Japan, the lucky bastards.
Despite the posters announcing a new opening, it doesn't look like they've decorated in years. The grafitti on the back of the loo door is historic and the decor chipped. What is new it would seem is the ownership. It's now the London outpost of a renowned Osakan institution, imagine the frenetic foodie buzz if Russell Norman opened Polpo Tokyo and you might come close.
It's difficult and naive for this knowless gaijin to pass judgement on the actual noodles. I'll let the photo of the crowds streaming down the street at the lunch service do that. Was it the finest lunch i've had in my life? No, but it genuinely came close... As a fulfilling, tasty meal, I can safely say that it's hard to beat.
No comments:
Post a Comment