Far From Yokohama

I began this blog last summer and haven't posted to it in almost a year. I enjoyed last year's project, to eat as much ramen in a month as I could and have been trying to get motivated and come up with something else to write about but so far I've not come up with much. The decision to teach summer school this year pretty much precluded us going to Japan again and me continuing on the quest for the perfect ramen (a task I will surely continue in summers to come). I've decided I will write instead about other things I eat or do in Brooklyn, the rest of the boroughs, and long island. This was inspired by a horribly disappointing trip to Grimaldi's Pizza last Saturday evening when I was served what was basically a great looking pizza that ended up being a total gummy mess.

This prompted a discussion among friends about the famous NY region pizzerias that made me want to try them all again and a few, like DiFara in Midwood for the first time. So I realized there was probably something in my summer to write about. If anybody wanted to read it is another story, one I don't care all that much about to be honest. This is just something to keep myself reflective about how I spend my time off and to give myself a little push to do something worthwhile. I'd love some suggestions.

As a general disclaimer, I am not a professional food critic, I do not apply the term "foodie" to myself as seemingly everyone who watches "At Home with Sandra Lee" or some other senseless nonsense does. I do watch Top Chef religiously though. I am a guy who likes to eat. And I like what I like.

The picture is of course "Mystery Train"

Going Out With A Bang

Yesterday was our last regular day in Japan and unfortunately we had to spend the day dealing with a few chores we had put off. We started the day with Rumi renewing her drivers license at the DMV. From about 11 to 1 she needed to take a two hour course and I was on babysitting duty. I set out to find a last good bowl of ramen despite Rumi's warnings that we were in the middle of nowhere.

I was positive that the DMV being filled with civil servants, good cheap eats had to be nearby. I was shocked how near. Not a two hundred yards, or meters in this case from the huge combination police station DMV was this little gem. Mubo ramen. I considered walking past, actually did by about twenty meters or so, then circled back. This had to be predetermined.

As you can see in the shot on the left, the gentleman was even putting out the sign just as I walked by. Hana and I circled back and sat at the counter to the first, "Irashaimasse" of the day. I of course couldn't read a thing so I simply said, "special" and the guy behind the counter replied with a knowing "Hai."

When the soup arrived I knew I had made the right choice, Yoda and Bobafet were standing on the counter next to the business cards. From the first glance. I knew I was looking at a soup that was unpretentious, well balanced and most importantly, tasty. Yes, I could tell all that from looking.

What struck me here was the simplicity. Three pieces of chashu, which had been rolled and tied, three slices of nori, an unsliced egg, some spring onion and yamakurage, a new one for us this trip. The noodles were very thin, al dente, perfect. I was the first bowl of the day and these guys hit the nail on the head. The chashu was so soft it litteraly tore from its own weight on the chopstick, not to mention melting in the mouth. The broth was shoyu, soy sauce, and had a dark taste, but without the oil of the "gravy-like" broths I have described in earlier posts.

I was sold already, the only question that remained was the egg. It was whole which has often signaled overcooked. This one however was, like the noodles, cooked perfectly. When I sliced it with my chopsticks, the inside ran just slightly and had that bright yellow-orange almost neon glow. I finished the entire bowl and drank about half the broth. A nice early lunch.

Unfortunately our great culinary journey has come to an end, we have an early flight tomorrow and though our airport hotel has three restaurants, none of them are ramen. I've enjoyed the trip though I am looking forward to NY pizza like Christmas.

I gave Mubo 4 1/2 bowls, well earned

A Pleasant Surprise

About a mile from where I am staying right now is this little unassuming ramen shop which my twelve year old nephew told me was supposed to be good. It was really hot out Sunday and I didn't feel much like walking too far so I figured I'd give it a try.

When I walked in I was in the familiar position of not being able to read anything. I looked at the posted photos of the ramen and asked the waiter what was 880 yen. "Negi chashu miso" he replied. Didn't look like that to me but I said, "So desuka, watashi wa negi chashu miso onagaishimasu." Really bad Japanese I'm sure, but he understood.

The reason I was confused was because the photo appeared to show kimchee on top of the bowl of ramen, not scallions. When the soup arrived, my confusion was soon settled. The scallions had been soaked, not quite pickled, in a chili paste which made them red hot. These were a fantastic new topping which I heretofore have not seen. This combined two of my favorite things. Add to that crisp fresh moyashi, a little wakame sea weed, and some very decent, though a little thick, chashu and you've got yourself a winner.

The noodles were a thicker variety, though certainly not as thick as the ones I had at the ramen museum. They were cooked to perfection and I was beginning to think the family should chose this as their local joint, it being a significant step up from the other places around their house I have tried.

The soup as well was not bad. It wasn't anything to knock your socks off, but it was a good clean tasting light miso broth. Overall this was a very well balanced bowl of ramen and I will certainly be visiting this shop again in the future. I gave it four bowls.

Some Like It Hawt

Sometimes you have to resort to slumming it. This week we are in Karuizawa, a mountain resort town which is unfortunately also home to a large outlet mall. Being that most of the shops are American, and that the goods are twice the price of the American outlets, this holds no appeal for me. We went. And it was decided that we would eat lunch here despite several ramen shops in town. I had to choose between Ajihe Ramen and another shop which was even less appealing in the food court. I chose Ajihe.

Once inside I ordered the spicy miso (karamiso) ramen, the day being a little cold and damp. The soup was topped with a slice of chashu, nori, moyashi, sesame seeds and cabbage. It appeared very red in color. Sadly it was only mildly spicy. The noodles were average, and the chashu was surprisingly good, but on the whole this was very run-of-the-mill. Food service food. There was nothing special here, but not much to criticize either. As I dined to the sounds of Danny's Song(Even though we ain't got money) by Loggins and Messina and Chucky's In Love it struck me how there was a similarity between the music and the food. Not offensive, but not good either.

2 1/2 bowls.



The next day we rode out to the Onioshidashi Lava Rocks outside of town. I figured for sure that this day we would have to give the ramen a miss. Then we found Demon Volcano Ramen right there next to the food court. The menu looked like I'd be in for more of the same as yesterday, roadside attraction food service, but everyone wanted ramen today so who was I to say no. There were several options here that I found appealing, especially the mountain vegetable ramen, but when I heard the name of one ramen was Volcano Ramen, I had to see just how hot it was. We all ordered, and as I sat to wait for the lunch, KISS came over the boom box in the corner, I Was Made For Loving You. Maybe we were in for an improvement over yesterday.

Looks hot right? It was especially at first. The broth was spicy miso again, but this time there was some kick to it. Not Tom-yam or kimchee jigae, but still pretty hot. It seemed like they had put chili oil on top. The real heat didn't last through the whole bowl, but the broth was very good.

The toppings, corn, bean sprouts and green onions formed a mountain on top of the bowl, clever. The wakame seaweed however was just off to the side. I don't like corn on ramen, though it is fairly common. I feel like it just falls away as you eat and it requires a special effort to seek out with chopsticks. It all ends up on the bottom of the bowl. Also, there was no pork which everyone else's soup had or menma which several others had. Mine was the most expensive soup, which means you are paying for a gimmick. I object. The noodles were fair if slightly past where they should have been cooked, but not bad.

Overall I gave this 3 1/2 bowls.

It's A Family Affair

When I first had the idea to write this, I thought that my in laws would think it all a bit troublesome that not only do I still not speak Japanese, but now I need to eat ramen everyday. Instead, they seem to have embraced the idea and have come along a few times on tastings. Today when Rumi and her sister went to get a haircut, they were reading a magazine article about a local ramen shop. It was decided that we would all have dinner there, and boy did they find a winner. Murataya ramen was billed as a very good shop, where there was frequently a long wait to get in. Like most good shops, it is small with just a few four-tops and a counter. We decided to be there first, which leads me to revise an earlier piece of advice on lines. When there's a line, be first. We were, they were still cleaning up out front when we arrived ten minutes before opening. There were fourteen people on line behind us by the time they opened the doors.

The place was this busy within three minutes of opening. That's my nephew in the corner. We had a bit of trouble with a 5000 yen bill that wouldn't go into the machine and had to ask for change, the people behind us seemed to be losing patience. Rumi said they were known for their negi (spring onion or scallion) ramen. But this was dinner, I went for the negi-chashu to get a little more protien, to hell with my arteries. The server came over and asked how we wanted the noodles, and did we want garlic oil. I did of course!

Feast your eyes on perfection my loyal reader. For this, while I don't believe in THE perfect bowl of ramen, was certainly A perfect bowl. Simply to die for. When it came, it was gorgeous. Eight slices of juicy chashu, a mountain of fresh spring onion, toasted sesame seeds and a single slice of crisp nori bending over the pork as if to protect it from its inevitable fate. Sorry porky, you've and I have had this date for a long time.

There was a different aroma too, the broth at this place is flavored primarily with katsuo (bonito or skipjack) and pork, of course. Add to this garlic oil and you have a soup that smelled good enough to bathe in. I wanted to take some time, enjoy the view, but I knew the noodles would get soft if I waited too long, and I had a monkey on my back that wouldn't let me resist diving in for another second.

Below the surface there was yet another surprise, the noodles were exceptionally thin, almost an angelhair, and white. They were divine. The soup was rich and had an almost creamy texture. I was actually eating the soup so fast at the beginning that I was depleting the volume at a rate that would have left me with a bowl of noodles and no broth. I stepped back a second, contemplated the chashu, and then tasted a pork so yummy that I ate three slices in succession. I downed the entire bowl in about five or seven minutes. There was not a thing that I would have changed.

Needless to say, I ate the whole thing. By then the baby was fed up with the back seat, so I went outside for a few minutes to let the rest of the party finish eating in peace. There were people waiting already. When Rumi came out she said, "This is the best so far," and "You like katsuo right?" She is right on both counts. This had a slight edge on the others on all counts and is proof of the fact that when it comes to food, simple good flavors make for an enjoyable meal. All the toppings in the world couldn't make up for this broth. Sheer perfection, 5 Bowls.

Night at the Museum

Today I went to the Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum about 45 minutes or so south of Tokyo. The museum is actually pretty fun if you are into quirky sort of tourist attractions. The bulk of the museum is divided into two floors, the first housing a ramen counter and gift shop as well as a rather funny collection of ramen artifacts and time lines detailing the evolution of ramen in Japan. Above notice the lights above the museum in the shape of ramen bowls. Center, I am at the gate to the main exhibition hall, more on this later. At the right is a collection of limited edition cup noodles. I wonder how much these are worth if they are still hermetically sealed?

The main exhibition hall is a recreation on a 1:1 scale of a section of Tokyo from the year Showa 33 (1958). This year is important because this was the year that instant noodles were invented. Ahhh yes, the joys of processed foods. The museum was created and built by a Mr. Yoji Iwaoka, a prominent developer and philanthropist who was raised in Shin-Yokohama and has a passion for ramen. The main hall looks and feels like one might imagine 1958 Tokyo to feel. It is night in the middle of the afternoon. The exhibition is complete with characters (a policeman, schoolgirl, postman, etc. There are a few shops which do not sell ramen, such as a vintage candy shop where picture cards of famous Tokyo Giants of the era hang on the wall. There are street performers and of course ramen shops. About 10 in all. They are a collection of famous shops from all over Japan who have opened a branch in the museum. Visitors pay only 200 yen to get in and are encouraged to buy at least one bowl of ramen. Most shops offer a sample size, roughly half price, for those who wish to try several. I had three, two full size and one sample. I will rate them in the order I tried them.

Ryushanhai Ramen
The first place I tried was Ryushanhai from Yamagata. This was a miso flavored soup, but shouldn't be confused with the soup they serve you when you get a sushi lunch. The big red blob in the center of the soup is the miso. Very spicy miso. I tasted the broth when the soup arrived and then tasted the miso on its own before mixing the two together. I began to understand why several of my fellow diners had ordered theirs on the side. Not me however, I was determined to sample any ramen today the way the shop intended which made them famous. The miso was fire hot. I whisked it into the soup which produced a fantastic red hue and made the entire soup hot. Byt the second or third slurp, my nose was running as were beads of sweat on my forehead. The soup was also topped with two pieces of chashu, menma, green onions and a slice of fish cake (the pink and white swirl). The toppings were each of good quality, the star being of course the miso itself with the chashu evaporating as it was eaten and everything carrying the taste of the broth. The noodles were different than what I am used to, being broader and heavier noodles than the usual thin variety. I ate every last one of them and drank just about as much of the broth as I could handle before I threw in the towel.

This was about as different a bowl as I've had so far and the most perfect. Clean bright broth that got body and heat when the miso was added, well cooked noodles and good toppings. I give this five bowls.


Next I took a little bit of a break, had a quick cold beer in the middle of the exhibition hall and took some time to appreciate the scene. Tokyo shure did look different if it looked like this. I noticed an advertisement for a Mifune movie, a tobacco shop that sold only Hope, Peace, Midori, and Lucky Strike cigarettes. There was a story teller on a bicycle entertaining fellow diners. I however couldn't understand a word of it, so after a quick visit to the bathroom, not circa 1958 thank god, I was down for another bowl.

My second stop was Hachiya from Asahikawa in Hokkaido, Japan's northernmost island. When I read the fact that the family that owns Hachiya has been making ramen for over 60 years (three generations) I couldn't wait to try it. Having done so, I swear grandma must have been in the soup. The first choice for Hachiya, though they like most shops here serve several kinds, was shoyu ramen (soy sauce flavor). Just think Oriental Flavor for those of you trying to keep pace at home with a brick of Top Ramen. Hachiya's shop was pleasant, well lit and the staff was friendly. It should have been telling though that there were only two other diners in the place with me. It wasn't terrible, it was just not good either. I regretted not having tried the mini.

The bowl in question here is Hachiya's shoyu ramen. Though it is named shoyu, the flavors come from pork and seafood as well. The saltiness of the soy sauce is fine, to be expected and I suppose some of the salt came from the seafood as well, but there are powerful dark undertones here that tend to overwhelm. That might be an oxymoron, ah well... The soup almost has a gravy-like quality about it, and it was also very oily, see below. Like when someone tries to make gravy by adding chicken stock.

I did enjoy the noodles however which were cooked perfectly despite the fact that the waitress and cook were clearly flirting extensively while the young man prepared my order. A third staff member just stood by and watched the cook closely. The pork itself resembled the soup in the way that the gravy would have gone well on the pork with a side of mashed potato or something like that. The menma however were simply to die for. They were huge, crisp and had that hint of sesame oil. I wish I could have brought them to Ryushanhai and put them on that bowl instead. Overall this was not a very good bowl of soup, certainly a let down after the perfection of the Yamagata bowl. I give it two bowls for the noodles and menma.

I wandered around for about ten or fifteen minutes debating whether or not I should try one more. There is a terrace level that overlooks the first floor and has two more shops on it. One of these shops, Eki Ramen, had a line down the block. There is a good practice to follow when seeking ramen; if you see a line, get on it.

Eki Ramen, from Sapporo in Hokkaido also served miso, though this was not a spicy variety. Though I was far from hungry and a little nauseated, I figured I could manage a mini from this shop since it seemed to have a good reputation. I found myself wishing my friend Tracy was here since I know he would have egged me through it and this kind of thing would be right up his alley.

The broth was miso alright, but with a strong garlic taste, not unlike what I had at Jangara a few days ago. I am not sure if this was for the mini only or if they always do this, but the toppings seem to have been tossed in with the noodles before the soup was added. The pork was tender, but still had been cubed. There were a substantial amount of spring onions and what seemed to be sauteed garlic lending a crunch to the soup.

The noodles were again larger, though not quite as large as Ryushanhai. Really great, really different. I wish I had had the full size here, but I couldn't possibly have finished it. I gave this bowl four bowls, but it really isn't fair to rate a taster. If I go back, I will
surely have the full size here. I gave the taster four bowls.


On the way out I stopped off at the gift shop, but didn't choose to buy anything. I thought it would be a cool idea to buy a bowl from there, but you can get the same bowls in Chinatown for about a buck a piece. Still, below are a few of the food items I could have packed up.


Left, instant ramen from some of the finest shops in the land. That price tag is about $6.50, not sure how many are in there. Center, preserved eggs, wonder what the shelf life is on those. And finally at the right is the famous chashu. Sorry, needs to be refrigerated.

I really enjoyed this place, if you find yourself in Tokyo, it's worth a stop particularly if you go to Yokohama, it is on the way.