Tetsu Ramen in Bunkyo-ku

Since I returned from the States, I have been craving ramen like nobody's business. Not the packets of DIY stuff, of course. The real thing, with the long lines and the short counters and the thick broths with giant chunks of pork. I checked my go-to blog (Ramen Adventures) and searched for a place close to work. It was sort of an unofficial holiday that day. There's nothing on the calendar, but apparently it is common knowledge to everyone but me that nobody actually comes to work on January 3rd. They wait until Tuesday, Jan. 4th. Since I was literally the only person in the building, I decided that it didn't matter if I took an incredibly long lunch and decided to try out Tetsu Ramen, which is infamous for having a really long line.

I bundled up and got on my bike, headed downhill from campus to Shinobazu dori and headed North past Sendagi station. As I rode down the unusually quiet street past one boarded up business after another, there was actually a moment when I feared that a) I might not see it and would pass it up, or b) it might be closed because of the holiday. I was wrong on both accounts. Not only was it the only business open on the entire block, it already had a line that was 10 people deep. And it wasn't even noon yet. There was no way I could have missed it. 

I got in line and tried to figure out the system. A guy walked up after me and went directly to the machine beside the door, got a ticket and got in line behind me. Oops - this is a buy-your-ticket-right-away kind of place. I put my money in and took a wild guess at the buttons. I usually opt for something that is the 2nd or 3rd most expensive on the list, that way I get something good, possibly special, but probably doesn't contain extra portions of pork, etc. This strategy often works for me. On this occasion, however, I got it wrong and ordered cold tsukemen (noodles that you dip in thick broth) instead of hot. Fortunately the guy who comes out to seat people spoke english and fixed my order for me. Inside, there were only about 9 seats. My order was ready only a minute or two after I sat down.

The noodles came in water, which was a little surprising to me, but maybe that is how they keep them hot. The broth was really thick and tasty, had a perfectly cooked egg, huge chunks of pork and some chopped onions. 

Toward the end of the meal, you can ask for a hot stone to lower into your broth to warm it up. (I forgot the japanese word for it, but I just copied the people to my left).  As you can see, the broth is really thick and sticking to the side of the bowl (and to my ribs!)  I will definitely go back to Tetsu ramen the next time I accidentally show up to work on a holiday.

Tenaga-Ashinaga: ramen in Takayama

Although most of our meals in Takayama were included in our hotel price, we did have lunch to find on our own. Since I've been on a bit of a ramen kick lately, I decided to do a little research and track one down in town. Right next to the river is this place, called Tenaga-Ashinaga. Naga means long, so this name essentially means "long arms - long legs" and is referencing the official Takayama mascots:

And the ramen was fabulous. Ryan had the regular, shown below, which came with egg, thick bamboo shoots, scallions, some sheets of nori and a really tender, flavorful piece of pork.

I went with what was called the "hida beef gristle". I thought maybe they mistranslated the word gristle, because the picture in the menu showed some nice, thinly sliced beef. But no, they got it right. It was gristle surrounded by huge chunks of fat. I am not sure if the fat is intended to be eaten. I couldn't do it. However, it did give the broth an incredible flavor. Ryan and I compared spoonfuls and mine had a whole lot more depth and meatiness. It was really amazing. We slurped them down with a couple of frosty mugs of beer and then headed back to the bus station to catch our ride home.

Yondaime Keisuke ramen

The next installment of Ramen enjoyment takes place at another of chef Keisuke's restaurants. This one is right by the subway station near our house, so we have been intrigued, yet intimidated, by it for some time. The nightly line of people out on the sidewalk, rain or shine, gave us some indication that this was going to be good. However, places with busy lines trying to turn over tables quickly, don't usually tolerate bumbling foreigners that don't know what they are doing. Well, we finally got up the courage to check it out. And actually, it was a good thing that there was a bit of a line when we walked up, so that we could see how things are supposed to go down. Here's the drill: First a gal comes out to ask how many you are. Then, she has you come in the doorway to the machine to place your order. She stands there watching you while you do it, so there is no time to look words up or hesitate. Then you go back to your previous place in line and wait some more. Eventually when enough people have left, you get called to take your place at the counter (which only seats about a dozen people) and, in theory, your food will already be waiting for you.

The ramen at this restaurant uses a fish broth, but what makes it special is that the chef adds spiney lobster, which gives it a very heavy, richness. You can definitely taste the lobster. Chunks of pork in the broth make this a very hearty meal. This shop is different also in the way that it serves the noodles. They serve them yakimorimen style, which means they fry them briefly on one side to give a nice crispiness and serve them separate (tsukemen-style) from the broth. Ryan got his with a side of pork slices (and a frosty beer).

Mine came with a cooked egg. Look at that thick broth! The hardest part is breaking the noodles up into chunks to dip in the broth. I thought for sure I was going to get some blisters.

Finally, when you have finished with all the noodles and have about a third of the broth left, you ask for a "ri-sue bo-ru", or rice ball, which has been deep fried and crackles when it hits the broth. You break this up and finish off what surely has been the most fattening meal you've had in a while. This is no light Japanese fare. We went home and contentedly rubbed our bellies for awhile.

not your typical ramen

In the course of my drooling over various food blogs, I stumbled onto a couple of very good ones related to ramen (here's one; here's another). Now usually when I think of ramen, I think of those 15 cent bags of dehydrated noodles alongside a flavor packet available in the grocery stores back home. They were perfectly edible (once I jazzed them up with fresh veggies and an egg), but considering the price, I always associate them more with the penance I had to do for splurging on something earlier in the week. Definitely not something I would want to write home about. But reading the descriptions that these guys were giving and seeing the steaming bowls of goodness on their blogs made me want to rethink this whole ramen thing. My boss told me that there are various styles of broth that are representative of a given region: soy- flavored chicken broth for Tokyo; miso broth for Hokkaido; and "tonkotsu" or pork bone broth for Kyushu, all of which are available in the school cafeteria. Of these three, I tend to lean toward the richer, tonkotsu style.

However, as the ramen blogs inform me, there are incredible variations on these basic styles. I was particularly interested in the chain of restaurants opened up by Takeda Keisuke, a classically trained french chef. Each of his restaurants specializes in his unique take on the classic. At Shodai Keisuke, which is located just across the street from the front red gates of the Todai campus, the specialty is "kuro miso ramen" made with a broth of burnt miso and garlic.

After putting money in the machine by the door and picking the button for what seemed like a reasonably priced item that included the kanji for "kuro", I sat at the counter and waited for my bowl. The burnt miso and garlic gave the broth an almost black color and a toasty, rich flavor. The toppings are thinly sliced meat (pork I think), scallions, a soft-boiled egg and thin strands of what I think might be saffron. It was really yummy and incredibly hearty. The noodles were much thicker and chewier than the curly stuff you get in the bag. When I finished fishing out all the noodles and chunks, they gave me a small bowl of rice to drop into the remaining broth, making a sort of risotto, which is eaten with a black ceramic spoon.