After announcing my search for delicious ramen in Tokyo, I received a text from my dear friend Karen, whose son, Peter (who has a fabulous blog of his own, here) (seriously pete how did you score that web address I want to buy it from you and my name isn’t even Pete) is in culinary school. Like, real culinary school. I shudder to think of how scared I’d be in that…
Karen sent me a link to Ivan Ramen. A NY-born chef named Ivan Orkin who opened up a little (apparently awesome) ramen place of his own in Tokyo. Holy shit. That’s like selling ice to an Eskimo that really fucking knows its ice and you come from a background that wouldn’t necessarily know anything at all about ice but somehow you do and somehow you sold that ice to that Eskimo and that Eskimo was happy as shit. Except this ice salesman does have an excellent culinary background in ice ah I no longer know what I’m talking about let’s go on…
Welp. That’s Ivan Ramen. And as you can see, there’s no line out the door because this bitch. is. closed.
45 minutes it took to get there! What a bummer. At least we went prepared — laptop with Family Guy for the car ride. Yeah. Should have called.
So. We asked the driver to take us to another spot. And I think….I *think*….he took our American asses to some sort of…”ramen lite”. I compared it to eating Pho on La Cienega and eating Pho on Western in Los Angeles. It’s good pho, sure. But it’s missing that gritty, home cooked, B-grade-in-the-window awesomeness that only Western / downtown LA has to offer.
Meh. Day 2 was average. But at the end of the day, you’re still in Tokyo. And you’re still eating ramen.
Let’s do this…
I ordered the pork ramen (I think) and I must say, the broth was outstanding. I definitely felt the porky love in the broth. It was almost like sucking on the marrow of a pig. Just milky, fatty goodness. Added a seasoned egg and extra scallions because scallions are the shit.
You know what? The more I think about it, the more I feel badly for calling this TGI Ramen’s. It wasn’t bad at all. It just…had no character. It was flat. It was delicious, it smelled awesome, it tasted good, but nothing amazing slapped me in the face. Megan Fox ramen. Magen.
Off to Harajuku today — going to try and find our favorite spot from a couple years ago. Aaaah. I’ll let you know!