[RAMEN] でび Debi and Important Announcement (from April 9, 2002)
Ramen This Week: でび Debi and Important Announcement
This report forms Part XVI of our ongoing series, "Totally Rethinking Japanese Ramen Quality." An important announcement follows this report.
Apologies for the recent glut of reviews. I'm terribly backlogged.
でび Debi
We arrived in line 15 people deep and in the rain. As we painfully waited in line for some 20 minutes behind three certified members of the Dork Patrol -- who were desperately hungry after splitting their all-too-short day between the Chutes and Ladders Convention and the bi-monthly Tokyo installment of Magic: The Gathering -- I, too, felt like a loser.
The story behind this place is as follows: TV personality David Itoh cooked up some ramen for some media stunt. After being encouraged by the comments and praises of his equally inane peers, David announced that he would leave the celebrity world to earn his living as a ramen master. At first, the geinokai thought David was joking.
Let me tell you what the real joke is. This is ramen without any character or characteristics whatsoever. The soup is overblended and unenjoyable. The egg is completely underdone. The noodles are soft and slimy, covered with a filmy substance that forced me against my will to recall the unwashed and unshampooed head of my Ordinary Differential Equations TA in college. Meanwhile, Mrs. Ramen had the "Autumn" ramen to my "Spring." The "Autumn" tasted like ochazuke covered with a helping of plain oil drawn from old, bad garlic. Once home, Mrs. Ramen promptly punted -- heaved, welched, booted, what have you.
Too fancy for its own good, and not worth the wait. I promise that next time I will have something good to say for change.
ANNOUNCEMENT: For quite some time now, I have been considering exigency plans in the event that I fall short of realizing my childhood ambitions of fighting Martians or going back in time to meet the woman (?) who infected Schubert with syphilis. I also think that my original ramen recipe for a veal shank, torigara, and vegetable broth, coupled with charsiu broiled not boiled on the bone with a slight nod towards sweet and spicy Korean-style seasonings and sesame, and chewy chewy curly golden noodles, might stand a chance even in ramen-riddled Tokyo. Therefore, the name I have chosen for my ramen hut is
第六感 Dairokkan
(I will give some thought to dedicating one stool to a life-size Haley Joel Osment wax figurine, and possibly semi-realistic holographic images of American Revolutionary War-era soldiers with shrapnel in the head.)
I reserve the right to change my mind tomorrow. Comments and criticism will be appreciated.
By the way, here are the other names under consideration:
オレは人殺しなんかしてないよ！ Ore wa hitogoroshi nanka shitenaiyo!
友達以上恋人未満 Tomodachi Ijou, Koibito Miman
だったらどうすればいいの？ Dattara, dou sureba iino?
五十七っぱい Gojuunanappai
This report forms Part XVI of our ongoing series, "Totally Rethinking Japanese Ramen Quality." An important announcement follows this report.
Apologies for the recent glut of reviews. I'm terribly backlogged.
でび Debi
We arrived in line 15 people deep and in the rain. As we painfully waited in line for some 20 minutes behind three certified members of the Dork Patrol -- who were desperately hungry after splitting their all-too-short day between the Chutes and Ladders Convention and the bi-monthly Tokyo installment of Magic: The Gathering -- I, too, felt like a loser.
The story behind this place is as follows: TV personality David Itoh cooked up some ramen for some media stunt. After being encouraged by the comments and praises of his equally inane peers, David announced that he would leave the celebrity world to earn his living as a ramen master. At first, the geinokai thought David was joking.
Let me tell you what the real joke is. This is ramen without any character or characteristics whatsoever. The soup is overblended and unenjoyable. The egg is completely underdone. The noodles are soft and slimy, covered with a filmy substance that forced me against my will to recall the unwashed and unshampooed head of my Ordinary Differential Equations TA in college. Meanwhile, Mrs. Ramen had the "Autumn" ramen to my "Spring." The "Autumn" tasted like ochazuke covered with a helping of plain oil drawn from old, bad garlic. Once home, Mrs. Ramen promptly punted -- heaved, welched, booted, what have you.
Too fancy for its own good, and not worth the wait. I promise that next time I will have something good to say for change.
ANNOUNCEMENT: For quite some time now, I have been considering exigency plans in the event that I fall short of realizing my childhood ambitions of fighting Martians or going back in time to meet the woman (?) who infected Schubert with syphilis. I also think that my original ramen recipe for a veal shank, torigara, and vegetable broth, coupled with charsiu broiled not boiled on the bone with a slight nod towards sweet and spicy Korean-style seasonings and sesame, and chewy chewy curly golden noodles, might stand a chance even in ramen-riddled Tokyo. Therefore, the name I have chosen for my ramen hut is
第六感 Dairokkan
(I will give some thought to dedicating one stool to a life-size Haley Joel Osment wax figurine, and possibly semi-realistic holographic images of American Revolutionary War-era soldiers with shrapnel in the head.)
I reserve the right to change my mind tomorrow. Comments and criticism will be appreciated.
By the way, here are the other names under consideration:
オレは人殺しなんかしてないよ！ Ore wa hitogoroshi nanka shitenaiyo!
友達以上恋人未満 Tomodachi Ijou, Koibito Miman
だったらどうすればいいの？ Dattara, dou sureba iino?
五十七っぱい Gojuunanappai
posted by hamu86 at 1:01 PM
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