So I was walking down the street the other day...

And then I saw an old man, wearing a hat, cargo shorts, hiked up socks and sneakers, riding a rinky-dink bicycle with a dark-blue t-shirt that had in large, white print across the front: "BALLS".

It took all my strength not to stop and just start laughing uncontrollably.

Cockroach Kill Count

1/week. Summer would be the perfect season were it not for these inconspicuous bastards.

Advice For New Graduates

Never trust a fat gym teacher.

背脂煮干濃厚醤油 どっかん Yabba Abura Doooo

Ramen shops can sometimes have an odd mystique about them. For instance, Ramen Jiro (earlier posts) amasses wild popularity among college students, ramen fans, and weirdo foreigners who write blogs about ramen. Some ramen nerds go so far as to measure the exact width of their noodle or the viscosity of the soup for reasons beyond the scope of my understanding. God bless nerds for their tunnel vision OCD. The ramen chefs also have their own unique approach to ramen culture, leading them to things like the lone ramen chef or the wild creativity of their dishes or the unabashedly bold claims of being "invincible" or the supreme "masters" of ramen. Having worked in a question for only a short while, a chef and his ego are never far apart. But these flairs and whistle&bells all serve as great PR and supplement ramen folk lore and culture, for what is a ramen shop that has not its own signature, dear Horatio? Bereft of soul, of love, of slings of misfortune or whatever. Let's eat.

Ominous, but delicious.

Today's long-named shop, 背脂煮干濃厚醤油 どっかん (Seaburaniboshinoukoushouyu Dokkan) can also be called "Pork Back Fat Sardine Dense Soy Sauce...Dokkan", or Dokkan for short. The literal translation tells you the story of this ramen - it's pork fat broth mixed with fish stock, it is very dense, and has the dietary equivalent of drinking pure motor oil. I do enjoy this kind of ramen so I was excited to go, until I saw the opening hours. The store only serves this type of ramen between the hours of...9pm and 12am? What the hell kind of hours are those? I suppose it lends itself to the whole mystique, but really all it does is end up being a major inconvenience. I was not looking forward to eating a massive bowl of fat and having to sleep it off immediately after. Still, I felt the call of duty and made my way over to the shop by foot, a simple 30 minute walk from Shinjuku station.

What America looks like on a demographic obesity map. SOCIAL COMMENTARY.

Dokkan's ramen is as the name suggests a seabura ramen, or pork back fat. Every time I look at a seabura bowl, I have to take a few breaths before eating. Eating this kind of ramen feels like a work out, especially when you consider the amount of sweating that occurs during the consumption process. Just look at it - those large globs of fat, just sitting on top of the vegetables waiting to find arteries worth clogging. The soup is not as salty as a seabura normally would due to the soup being a tonkotsu/gyokai broth combination so the savoriness is relatively mild. The menma are large but slightly cold. I like the taste of the pork slices but nothing out of the ordinary. The noodles are a dark yellow and thick and go down easy. The onions are raw and taste sharp and sweet and the chef loaded the bowl with chopped onions. This dish is loaded with toppings. It's hard to enjoy the noodles and the soup when you're constantly digging through a mound of stuff. Even though this dish was prettier than most seabura ramens, the overall taste was underwhelming and the extra fat only added to my thighs. I could have done with less onions for sure.

It's the whole kit-and-ka-noodle.

Still, if you are at all into Ramen Jiro, give this place a try. I was not as enamored with the late-night requirements, but it's much more easier and tastier than the aforementioned ramen shop. Plus, the shop is clean and the staff were nice and you get a sizeable dish for only ¥800 yen. Give in to the mystery and indulge.

RAMEN SCOREBOARD

Number of minutes waiting: 0
Number of things I didn't understand on the ticket vending machine: 0!
Man-Woman ratio: All dudes. It's a man's world out there.
Rating: 3 ramen bowls out of 5. For seabura, unusually ordinary. Still, presentation is nice and easier to handle than Ramen Jiro.

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Store Hours: For this ramen, 9:00pm ~ 12:00am. Closed on weekends. All other hours serve different types of ramen.

煮干鰮らーめん: Borderland Ramen

It's not often that I'm reminded of just how big Tokyo is beyond simply its density, especially when you consider the expanse and degree to which its borders seem to spill into the surrounding areas. Were you to take a train west from the center of Tokyo, you'd past nothing but a field of concrete buildings and massive residential apartments that seem to spread out for ages. Even viewing Tokyo from the banks of a river lacks the charm and pseudo-nostalgia one gets in another city like Dublin or Paris. Ugly as it is, at times it's nice to head out into the countryside for a little greenery now and again. But what does this have to do with ramen?

Because that's where today's tiny shop seemed to have taken me to. I was blissfully unaware of just how far away 煮干鰮らーめん (Niboshi Iwashi Ramen) actually was until I rode the long train west. Along the way I had to make a transfer at some desolate station in Podunk, Japan, located in what seemed like a dirt field. It wasn't a grand place to have to wait an hour for my transfer train to arrive. Rather than sit mournfully in the station all day, I took the time to see what the local area had to offer - pachinko, apparently. Old Japanese ladies were pulling the equilvalent of $100 bills with ease out of their purses, an indication that maybe things here are darker than they appear. But rather than giving in to that whole "THE SUBURBS HAVE A SECRET" aesthetic, I headed back to the station towards my real destination and reminded myself to watch 'Donnie Darko' again.

Who would think behind those doors a man is testing the gods?

Far west outside of Tokyo lies Hachioji. On the map it looks to be the last major hub before you hit the countryside if that's any indication as to how far away this place is. There was a surprising amount of activity out this way, but I had a single goal in mind and nothing was going to get in between me and my ramen. Today's was a very special one, a thin fish-broth soup that commanded a lot of respect in ramen publications. Here again was another ramen lone ranger, an independent ramen chef who spun beautiful and delicious ramens out of his own sweat and tears. And despite the fact that finding the shop was relatively easy, I couldn't believe how nondescript and unassuming the shop actually was. Passing all the glitz and glamour that this border town had to offer, I almost missed the shop considering that it was tucked away in some unlit alley, next to a closed massage shop and generic grey office buildings. It was the kind of alley you'd imagine getting yourself in a street tussle with some thugs or your blood being sucked by a vampire. I had come a little before opening time, and the only light in the shop spotlit the chef calmly working behind the counter. I almost had to do a double take - was this really the acclaimed shop? - but the wait and the journey took me to a holy place, a ramen divinity, another step closer to Nirvana.

More emotive than a Bob Ross brush stroke.

Niboshi are dried, baby sardines, and you can buy them at stores in conveniently pulverized powder form for soup stocks and such. Virtually all miso soups will have Niboshi stock in it because the taste is so baller. So is Niboshi Iwashi Ramen. This ramen was rolling on dubs. I had Niboshi ramen, and yes, to me the gods did spake loud and clear that day, that this was the ramen of Valhalla, of Olympus, even of Hell and its multi-layered cakeitude. First, presentation. I loved the magnitude of its simplicity - 4 toppings in a very simple arrangement. The noodles were abundant in quantity, the bowl effusing that distinct Niboshi smell. With my big ramen spoon I ladled myself some soup and sipped...masterful. The soup was light, as expected, but the colors lying underneath that initial taste still give me goosebumps as I recall them. Without any one part saying more than the other, I could taste a careful blend of that distinct sardine flavor, a savoriness reminiscient of some of my favorite pork ramens, and several unrecognizable undercurrents that blended all of it together. And yet, with all the pieces together comes a soup that tasted as one, expressing a humbleness in not only its chef but the ingredients themselves. Here it was, in some forlorn corner of Japan, a testement to culinary achievements in ramen.

Diving into the rest of the bowl didn't take long to carry out. The noodle was of a medium width and had a springiness and smoothness not unlike that of spaghetti. Sitting behind me was the chef's ramen noodle machine being displayed clearly behind a glass window and sitting in a small room. He makes his own ramen too?! The menma was perfect and thick (something I would think most shops would be able to carry out). A boiled egg sat cooly to the side bleeding yolk into the soup. The pork slices had a unique flavor all to themselves because of the specific cut it used and the sides were surpringly tough like jerky, which it also tasted like but without all the excessive saltiness. But what I liked best about the toppings here was that they were subservient to the star of the show, which were the noodles and the soup. Our bread and butter was the bread and butter.

As has been the case almost every time on my journey, I left a happy man with a full belly and a smile. Though I may never come this way again, I can rest easy knowing that I embarked on one of the more difficult parts of my journey. And as I continue to explore, I'll have Noboshi Iwashi ramen to remind me of what it means to be ramen. Should you find the time and the desire, you would do well to visit this shop.

RAMEN SCOREBOARD

Time spent waiting: 30 minutes

Number of seats in shop: 6

Man-Woman ratio: All male, all the time.

Number of awkward stares: 5, at least. Nobody but ramen nerds know about this place and I apparently made some stupid tourist faux pas as I was leaving.

Rating: 5 ramen bowls out of 5. A solid, simple, delicious ramen.

Map
Opening hours: 11:00-3:00pm, 5:00pm-7:30pm. Closed every 2nd Wednesday, and days when things seem uncertain (yes, that's what it says, no, I don't know what that means).

麺屋ふうふう亭 - There can be only Won (Ton)

Japan doesn't sit well within the history of its Asian neighbors, as anything during and before WW2 will no doubt clearly indicate. Despite all the happy smiles and kind manners, one has to remember this is a land with a warrior spirit and the occasional desire to try and conquer something. Despite the less glamorous aspects of inter-cultural mingling, things like food spread much more readily, like an STD you'd be happy to spread around. Ramen, as it were, started its life in China and quite easily moved its way over to Japan, subsequently infusing itself into the country, becoming its own thing, and creating different styles from region to region.

Today's ramen was one of those unique situations where the Japanese creation found itself creating homage to its past home. It reminded me of this time when, as I was walking around a department store in the area, I came across a "New York Sushi" shop, happily displaying the various rolls and stylings so often found in your chic American sushi hangout. These are dangerous grounds we tread here - who actually believes the Las Vegas representation of New York is anything but the stuff of cotton candy? No offense to cotton candy, but you're all fluff and no stuff and you ain't got no gruff.

Dumb.

I found myself one afternoon walking into a new store named 麺屋ふうふう亭, which qualifies as having the most ludicrous sounding name this side of Ludacris (pronounced "Men-Ya-Foo-Foo-Tei"). Ridiculosity aside, the store was very easy to find once I realized it was on the main street next to Kagurazaka station and not, as my usually untrusty google maps printout seemed to indicate, was somewhere in the residential area behind the station exit thus leading me to an unfruitful and very cold jog around some narrow streets. There were an abundance of Chinese restaurants in the area, but otherwise a quiet part of town. I wouldn't mind living here, had I the chance to. Entering the shop, I quickly ordered the recommended meal (おすすめ): Won Ton salt ramen.

Oops, I ramen'ed again.

I liked the presentation here. A variety of toppings, light yellow-themed, some greenery, and multi-colored onion types. The grill lines on the pork were especially interesting - not a feature I've seen in other ramens. Still, does it seem all that Chinese, aside from the wonton blending into the soup? I'm not so sure. The soup, salt ramen that it is, was nice and light, and didn't attempt to override the other flavors here, and this is where the problems start arising. The pork, for instance, looked good, but didn't taste much different from your typical pan-fried pork chop. The wonton didn't add anything other than being a bit wanton (how could I resist not using a wanton wonton pun here?). The one welcome touch was the grilled onions turned dark brown, giving the soup a small dose of sweetness to an otherwise savory soup. Was there anything particularly offensive here? No, not at all. The noodles were a nice consistency, and the soup was slurp-worthy to the end. Maybe I was expecting something a little bit more dramatic than the addition of wonton, but unfortunately received an above average bowl or ramen. It's not a simulacrum, but it won't fool you into thinking you just jumped on a junk for China. Better luck tomorrow, I guess.

With that, more ramen shops await.

RAMEN SCOREBOARD

Number of minutes waited in line: 0

Number of Aston martins roaring down narrow alleys: 1

Number of items on menu I didn't understand: Quite a lot

Man-woman ratio: 1 to 1. Equality for all!

Rating: 2.5 ramen bowls out of 5. I like originality, but I didn't see much here.

Map - Warning! Shop is on the MAIN street.

ラーメンきら星 - Bone Thugs-n-Ramen

Last night I couldn't sleep. I don't know what's come over me. My ramen travels have severely disrupted my ability to eat anything after a hardy bowl, and so I have not been able to sufficiently supplement my diet with the necessary nutrients I require. Though the sleeplessness was mixed in with a bit of personal anxiety, I couldn't help but wonder if ラーメンきら星 (Ramen Kiraboshi) may have put these thoughts into me. Is it the extreme amount of fat and salt I'm putting into my body, thus sucking the fluids from my brain? Is it the determination with which I pursue these locations, a personal challenge that tests the heart and soul like a marathon would? There were no answers to these questions, but never have I been so sure of a goal in my life as this one, no matter the cost! My body will learn to adjust to the pseudo-nutritious value ramen provides. That said, should I start having fevered dreams of ramen, then you will all know I have truly descended into madness.

Tiny ramen shops give a sense of home and hearth. Martha Stewart would be proud.

Today's ramen is, according to the magazine's rating, a very tasty tonkotsu ramen, which is a pure pork-based broth that has a very powerful and salty 'brown' flavor similar to that of ramen Jiro and a texture and taste not unlike that of Gulash (east European food fans, high five!). As mentioned in a previous blog post, gyokai (fish) broth can be used to help soften the pork broth, and in the powerful taste that this ramen has illustrates why that is such a popular idea. This was NOT an easy ramen to get down, and I was a tad worried that I wouldn't be able to finish this dish. Let's take a look at this mass of brown.

Someone beat this ramen with an ugly stick.

Ahh, a simple looking ramen. Sometimes choice in these matters seems to suggest that the ramen shop doesn't have much faith in their own dish. Pandering to the public, these shops rely solely on soup to dictate the taste of their ramen. Those places are hacks - I like a place that tells you your only choices are regular size or double the noodles. Clearly what we have here is a ramen shop telling you this is all you need to have a delicious bowl: menma, slice of pork, perfectly boiled egg, raw onions, and sliced cabbage. There's a little brown dollop on that cabbage, a bit of a mysterious paste that invoked a spicy essence out of the soup. The soup, naturally, was thick, hard, salty, and punchy. This soup was lookin' for a fight, and held back no punches. You couldn't get far without feeling like it wanted you to feel some pain. The noodles were equally thick and didn't want to make things any easier. I couldn't speak for the toppings, as they were plain and simple, merely spectators to the fight that was going on between you and the soup. The pork slice, too, was literally the only meat in the room and wasn't trying to stir any more trouble.

I've consumed more pork than the US congress. POLITCAL SATIRE.

Which bring me to a point of complaint that I could lodge against Jiro-style tonkotsu ramen - they are jacked on richness and flavor, but lack subtlety. You don't get a lot of chances to notice the little things, as your mind is so preoccupied with the overly savoriness of the pork soup. Which is a real shame, considering the ingredients they had available to them. I had ordered a side dish before the actual ramen came out - it was various pieces of pork and grated radish all sitting on top of rice - that had some fantastic flavors in it. Unfortunately, I wish they could've utilized those strengths into the main meal.

I finished the bowl, but just barely and I couldn't finish the soup. Even though I came out the winner that day, it was an empty victory as I left there feeling bloated but with immense respect for my foe. Luckily no one got seriously injured in the end, but I think the next time I come 'round I'll be packing heat in the form of Japanese pears. Aside from the food, the service was fast and the shop was probably the cleanest one I've been to so far. But when it comes to soup, I ain't gonna let no punk ass ramen tell me how to eat my noodles.

RAMEN SCOREBOARD

Number of minutes waited in line: 20 minutes
Man-Woman ratio: 12 to 1. Not the sexiest of places to bring a date.
Varieties of pepper shakers available: 3
Rating: 3 ramen bowls out of 5. Adjust accordingly if you like your ramen thick with bloodlust.

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