I have to eat japanese. What sense does it make if I'm here and I don't. Anyway. It's cold , windy.....soup...ramen! Fuck yea!
Normally I would just wander aimlessly like a hobo until I found somewhere but technology has made me lazy, Google says there is a ramen joint around the corner. Off I go into the night.
Right where they said it was, was a wooden facade with a name I can't pronounce. About twelve seats and they're packed but I go in.
The guys behind the bar scream welcome and one sees I'm not a local comes over to help me out. I say ramen and he shows me which button to pushing the order machine and he points me to a n open stool on the bar in the back.
I watch these guys work and the smells are starting to make me hungry and angry that I waited to eat but the bowl hits the table and I'm in.
Wow!
Flavor. Deep and rich. Tender pork and noodles with just enought give
I have to slow down so I go up top to the ginger bowls but it's not just ginger. One has ginger, one has a pickled root and one has kimchi onions that are spicy, I want to punch the chef in the back of the head they are so good.
I pace myself and finish.
I slosh back to the hotel and wait for this to work through me.
I'm going back tomorrow
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