Ramen- A Religious Experience

Yes. Ramen. I'm sure you're thinking about the 5-for-a-buck Top Ramen we all lived on in college. Let me assure you that even those meager noodles come from a very rich and delicious heritage.

One of the many benefits of living in a multicultural city is the abundance of amazing restaurants. One of the many benefits of having an iPhone with Yelp is being directed to the best and closest of those amazing restaurants. On Tuesday, standing under the giant cube in the middle of Astor Place, I looked up the best and closest place for noodles. I was directed to a place just a block from my shopping destination. Perfect.

I walked into Ippudo on 4th Avenue. Really nice looking restaurant. The bar upfront had blocks of ramen noodle stylishly displayed under glass. I had to wait a couple of minutes before being seated... for lunch. I took that as a good sign.

The hostess escorted me into the dining area where I was greeted with the entire staff yelling out a welcome to me in Japanese. Fun. I was led to the large long table where they seat multiple diners. I had a look at the menu and scanned the restaurant to see what other people were eating- big bowls of noodle soup, duh. However, I did notice that the appetizers looked very tasty. There are many rave reviews about their pork buns. Being a lone diner watching both waist and wallet, I went right to the main course. One reviewer on Yelp claimed to have been 'haunted' by the Akamaru Modern ramen dish. Sold.

Akamaru Modern 'the original tonkotsu' soup noodles with ippudo's special sauce, miso paste and fragrant garlic oil, slices of simmered berkshire pork, cabbage, onions, kikurage and scallions

So, who's got two chopsticks and is ready for her soup? This girl!

While I had been waiting to be seated, I picked up some literature on the hostess' stand. "Zuzutto! How to enjoy Ramen" seemed like an appropriate read. The colorful brochure opens to a triptych of illustrated Japanese people in traditional dress eating their bowls of Ramen. I studied carefully to prepare myself for this meal.

I want to eat this picture.

#1 SIP
Sip the soup. The rich broth is the culmination of many ingredients and long hours of preparation.

First, I notice the beauty of the dish. A large red bowl containing a thick broth, noodles submerged and the toppings so elegantly displayed. Next, the aroma was heavenly. I took a moment to move my face above the steaming bowl, close my eyes, and inhaled deeply. Pork. Toasted garlic.

I picked up my spoon and dropped it slowly into the broth so as not to disturb the other ingredients and to fill the spoon with nothing but liquid. I sipped. Colors became more clear. I could hear angels sing. My whole body took pleasure in the warmth of the broth. My tongue was delighting in the velvety texture and complexity of flavors. One sip had me smiling and totally converted.

#2 SLURP
Pick up a few strands of noodle and slurp! Savor the flavor.

I picked up my chopsticks and swished the oil and the paste into the broth and pulled out a few noodles. I slurped. The noodles were perfectly al dente, the broth even richer with the toppings mixed in. Still smiling.


#3 TOP
Delight your palate and eyes in the harmony created by the toppings and the soup.

I moved on to the slices of pork. Wow. Wow. Wow. So tender, so flavorful. I'm guessing the pork was grilled then boiled... but that's just my guess. How else could it have achieved pork perfection? Smiling wider.

I was led to the ultimate experience of nodogoshi, the silky senation of of food slipping through one's throat.

 Each bite revealed more depth in the character of the broth. The vegetables maintained their individual flavor while being harmonious with the soup. The noodles became more delicious the longer they sat in the broth.

I MUST LEARN HOW TO MAKE THIS!!

Heavenly.

As you can tell, I am having fanatical feelings towards soup and noodles. When I returned home, I immediately began my research on ramen. The history dates back to 1665 and legend has it that the soup was introduced by a Chinese Confucian scholar who shared noodles with a Japanese military official. There's a theme-park dedicated to ramen. There are over 20 regional varieties of ramen. The first instant ramen was invented in 1958 with Cup Noodle to follow in 1971.

Now aware of the pop-culture phenomenon of ramen, I went digging for recipes for the tonkotsu which is that heavenly, rich and velvety pork-based broth. There are a lot of variations out there and I am going to continue reading until I feel I fully understand what goes into creating that amazing flavor and texture. So far, this recipe has popped up a lot and has been well rated. I'd like to find a pork and chicken version.

Additionally, I'll have to continue trying the many ramen shops around NYC. Last night Shana and I shared take out from Ramen Setagaya a new shop on University Place which was quite good. Next week, Shana, May and I will be going to Ippudo and I will be able to tell you about other variations that they offer and hopefully the pork buns!

Mmm.

Grandma's Lobster Sauce

Back in early September, me and my friends May & Shana threw a Seafood Extravaganza (one of our many food theme parties that you'll be reading about). Shana created a lobster dish that's great for a crowd. More about that party another time... the point is that there were a lot of lobster carcasses at the end of the night. Some might have seen that pile of red shells as garbage, I saw it as another delicious meal. I filled three gallon-sized freezer bags and stuffed them in my freezer.

Fast forward to last night when I realized that it was time to clear up some space in the freezer. Time for Grandma's Lobster Sauce! My Grandmother, my biggest influence in the kitchen, could take any creature from the sea and turn it into a delicious red sauce. Her lobster sauce was sweet, fragrant, and glistened as it clung to the pasta.

This would be my first attempt at honoring her lobster sauce.

The sauce itself is a very simple recipe- 3 lobster carcasses, 2 cans of crushed tomatoes, chopped garlic, dried parsley, salt and pepper. Despite the simplicity, or perhaps because of it, I took extra care in my attention to the preparation so that I could make adjustments for when I make it again. Good thing... there were lessons to be learned!

I chose my tallest pot for the task (All-Clad Multi-Pot) and threw the frozen carcasses in the pot with olive oil while I chopped up the garlic. The garlic was added to the pot and left to become aromatic over low heat for a few minutes, stirring occasionally. The tomatoes were added along with almost a full can of water- swish the water between cans to get all the last bits of tomato. (I used Sclafani crushed tomatoes which were perfect for this, it's a really thick and chunky product.) Salt, pepper, parsley and a quick stir before putting the lid on the pot to bring it up to a boil.

It did not take long before my kitchen took me on an olfactory trip down memory lane. Lifting the lid of the pot after letting it boil for a bit unleashed the sweet smell of tomato and lobster. I gave it a stir, reduced the heat a bit and let it get saucy for a couple of hours.

I lifted the lid for a stir and noticed that it was not quite as sweet smelling as before. It now had a slight tang of low tide. Not quite as appetizing as before. I grabbed a colander and pulled out the lobster bodies (I left in stray legs and the tail). Once the carcasses were cool enough to handle, I split them open. To my dismay (on multiple levels) the innards were still inside the shell. By innards I mean the delicious green tomalley that would have been eaten the day the lobsters were steamed if I had known there was any left, and the cartilage sack which I honestly don't know if it's the brain or the stomach. Either way, it's bitter and the contents of two of those sacks were empty. The tomalley was sadly boiled to a spongy, tasteless mass... what a waste! And what has it done to my sauce?!?! I tasted it on a spoon and it was slightly bitter. For shame.

Let it be known that I'm no quitter. I put the 'good' parts of the lobster back into the sauce. I added a can of tomato paste and some water in an effort to let the sweetness of the tomatoes fight through the bitterness and let the sauce cook for a bit longer.

Patient that I am I let the sauce cool down before putting it in a covered bowl to refrigerate overnight and to allow the low tide aroma disappear from the kitchen.

Today, with a fresh palate, I cooked some fettuccini and heated up some sauce and sat down for a tasting. Verdict- good... pretty good even. Sweet, great tomato flavor, aromatic and thick. The bitterness had indeed subsided. And, my lesson has been learned- I will clear everything outside of the meat from the body cavity before placing in the sauce.

Now I must go put dinner on the table... fettuccini with lobster sauce, tomato oregano salad, and crusty bread... and a toast to Grandma.