[RAMEN] 一風堂 ・ 六本木店 Ippudo Roppongi (from May 30, 2002)
Ramen This Week: 一風堂 ・ 六本木店 Ippudo Roppongi
DO NOT DISTRIBUTE. CONTAINS INSIDE JOKES.
It all had to end sometime. Between Koshinbo, Erubisu, and Masutani [review next week], I had been on a good run. Leave it to the newest outpost of a legendary has-been ramen institution to disappoint.
一風堂 ・ 六本木店 Ippudo Roppongi
Where to begin? The abhorrent decor. The outside show window is lined with mannequin busts sporting not-so-nifty Ippudo T-shirts. Part Frederick's of Hollywood, part AUM Shinrikyo hideout, and part Kim Jong-Il love nest. Then there's the interior, decorated from floor to ceiling with an endless, nauseating pattern of that fried-dried or dried-fried "ramen." (Remember when you thought that ramen meant Sapporo Ichi-ban and Cup O' Noodles? The Seafood Curry flavor was always particularly revolting.) You've really got to see this crap yourself.
The tasteless display prompted my lovely assistant to inquire, "Won't the rats eat it?" At that point, my memory hurdled back towards my final months in the steamy summer of New York, when a rat decided to share my studio apartment while I studied for the bar exam. My pet, whom I eventually named Frolic, was likely of the Norway variety, not to be confused with the Indian Rat: Norway Rats climb walls, you see.
Although we met only by chance when he sampled my takeout order of rice & beans, we would see much of each other in the weeks to come. In fact, one bleary-eyed early morning, the full weight of Frolic -- his body, not including the tail, was about as long and heavy as one of those 250 milliLiter soda cans -- raced across my right foot. Boy, I screamed like a little Nappy Naritomi. Even after the exterminator guy (played by Christopher Walken, but Puerto Rican) helped me out, the rat continued to visit. Looking for another way in, Frolic once stuck his snivelling little head through the opening beneath one of the electric coils on my cooking range. Moreover, a week after his aborted attempt at re-entry, I came home to find the light on my answering machine blinking. I pressed the playback button, only to be greeted with an otherworldly nibbling sound. Nasty.
But I digress. The food itself was mediocre. The flavor of the Akamaru was remotely smoky, suggesting the pork bones had been grilled in advance rather than parboiled; not necessarily a bad thing. The charsiu surfaced out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly, without reaction. The noodles were good yet equally uneventful. And the egg could have enjoyed another couple of minutes in the bath. Overall, what should have been basic Hakata tonkotsu hosomen was overly contrived, and there was simply too much going on. After a while, I just didn't care. (We regretted not going to our old standby Azabu Ramen instead. Despite failing the test of an all-time classic, Azabu is a comfortable, happy ramen that doesn't try too hard to impress.) Finally, the peculiar cold tea -- hinting of mint, spice, and cyanide -- had me thinking it was Jonestown Juice. Not a good chaser for the ramen.
Still, there is hope. We're meeting up with the Ramen Professor on Sunday. Prepare to be amazed.
[Nappy Puyi from "The Last Emperor": "Why can I not leave the Forbidden City? And why am I surrounded by Eunuchs?"]
DO NOT DISTRIBUTE. CONTAINS INSIDE JOKES.
It all had to end sometime. Between Koshinbo, Erubisu, and Masutani [review next week], I had been on a good run. Leave it to the newest outpost of a legendary has-been ramen institution to disappoint.
一風堂 ・ 六本木店 Ippudo Roppongi
Where to begin? The abhorrent decor. The outside show window is lined with mannequin busts sporting not-so-nifty Ippudo T-shirts. Part Frederick's of Hollywood, part AUM Shinrikyo hideout, and part Kim Jong-Il love nest. Then there's the interior, decorated from floor to ceiling with an endless, nauseating pattern of that fried-dried or dried-fried "ramen." (Remember when you thought that ramen meant Sapporo Ichi-ban and Cup O' Noodles? The Seafood Curry flavor was always particularly revolting.) You've really got to see this crap yourself.
The tasteless display prompted my lovely assistant to inquire, "Won't the rats eat it?" At that point, my memory hurdled back towards my final months in the steamy summer of New York, when a rat decided to share my studio apartment while I studied for the bar exam. My pet, whom I eventually named Frolic, was likely of the Norway variety, not to be confused with the Indian Rat: Norway Rats climb walls, you see.
Although we met only by chance when he sampled my takeout order of rice & beans, we would see much of each other in the weeks to come. In fact, one bleary-eyed early morning, the full weight of Frolic -- his body, not including the tail, was about as long and heavy as one of those 250 milliLiter soda cans -- raced across my right foot. Boy, I screamed like a little Nappy Naritomi. Even after the exterminator guy (played by Christopher Walken, but Puerto Rican) helped me out, the rat continued to visit. Looking for another way in, Frolic once stuck his snivelling little head through the opening beneath one of the electric coils on my cooking range. Moreover, a week after his aborted attempt at re-entry, I came home to find the light on my answering machine blinking. I pressed the playback button, only to be greeted with an otherworldly nibbling sound. Nasty.
But I digress. The food itself was mediocre. The flavor of the Akamaru was remotely smoky, suggesting the pork bones had been grilled in advance rather than parboiled; not necessarily a bad thing. The charsiu surfaced out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly, without reaction. The noodles were good yet equally uneventful. And the egg could have enjoyed another couple of minutes in the bath. Overall, what should have been basic Hakata tonkotsu hosomen was overly contrived, and there was simply too much going on. After a while, I just didn't care. (We regretted not going to our old standby Azabu Ramen instead. Despite failing the test of an all-time classic, Azabu is a comfortable, happy ramen that doesn't try too hard to impress.) Finally, the peculiar cold tea -- hinting of mint, spice, and cyanide -- had me thinking it was Jonestown Juice. Not a good chaser for the ramen.
Still, there is hope. We're meeting up with the Ramen Professor on Sunday. Prepare to be amazed.
[Nappy Puyi from "The Last Emperor": "Why can I not leave the Forbidden City? And why am I surrounded by Eunuchs?"]
posted by hamu86 at 1:01 PM
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