[RAMEN] 虚心房 Koshinbo (from May 1, 2002)
Ramen Golden Week: 虚心房 Koshinbo
Finally.
虚心房 Koshinbo
For months and months, I have contended that Sul Long Tang (Korean oxtail soup) would be a sure-fire, can't-miss inspiration for splendid ramen. In fact, I remember screaming this very fact while watching an episode of TV Champion in which two ramenists battled fiercely to create a ramen that would "please women's palates." Whatever. Instead, these jokers toiled around breeding purple vegetables and using brown rice as a soup base. But one visit to Gam Mee Ok on 32nd Street in Manhattan reveals Sul Long Tang's mysteries, its gut-warming and healing properties, the unforced and fleeting but impressive elegance of its flavor, and thus its promise as a foundation for ramen.
However, testing my theory would require me to end my seven-month abstinence of Wagyu, the feared Japanese Mad Cow (not to be confused with Wagyaru). I had already passed up Daigo near Omotesando, Genkotsuya in Mita (a Kekke-san dig), and the mythic stamina ramen at Genkai in Mito city. But to tell you the truth, we had no clue walking into the place that the beef was already in the pot. And since Koshinbo is miles from nowhere, hopping along to another joint was not an option.
In any case, we ordered the house Koshinmen. My my my, what a find! This is mojo in a prom dress. The whitish broth is slowly drawn from the bones of three animals: cows, pigs, and chickens. Very sensual and loving soup, yet somehow light to the touch. A daring formula but hardly overwrought, no ingredient insistent or distinct, though I surmise that the smoothness is mediated by the cow.
The noodles are wonderful vessels for the broth. The standard men come in thick or thin and have a nice, easy chewiness. In addition, Koshinbo offers a remarkable noodle made from tofu milk (?). I gnawed at a few skeptically and was surprised by their consistency; these, too, would pleasantly complement the soup. Perhaps another homage to Sul Long Tang, the charsiu is thin but savory and refuses to be considered alone. The nori and slightly cooked, julienned white negi were wise additions. And the egg was delectable, mild and just orange enough.
Dan Leone of the San Francisco Bay Guardian would say, "The burps taste good too," but I am not so crass.
We pushed on and played badminton on the same Tama River bank where the country folk were playing baseball and trying to get drunk, rode bicycles up to the hills where Kamen Rider used to fight the Shockers, and watched Pride 20 for dinner. What a great day.
Incidentally, I should note that the feel-good story does not end there. As it turns out, the women who run Koshinbo were once on the television show "Ai no Binbo Dasshutsu Daisakusen," or "The Mission to Set the Poor Bastards Free." The shop is just a few steps from Yanokuchi station in Inagi-shi on the JR Nanbu Line. Go spend some money.
Finally.
虚心房 Koshinbo
For months and months, I have contended that Sul Long Tang (Korean oxtail soup) would be a sure-fire, can't-miss inspiration for splendid ramen. In fact, I remember screaming this very fact while watching an episode of TV Champion in which two ramenists battled fiercely to create a ramen that would "please women's palates." Whatever. Instead, these jokers toiled around breeding purple vegetables and using brown rice as a soup base. But one visit to Gam Mee Ok on 32nd Street in Manhattan reveals Sul Long Tang's mysteries, its gut-warming and healing properties, the unforced and fleeting but impressive elegance of its flavor, and thus its promise as a foundation for ramen.
However, testing my theory would require me to end my seven-month abstinence of Wagyu, the feared Japanese Mad Cow (not to be confused with Wagyaru). I had already passed up Daigo near Omotesando, Genkotsuya in Mita (a Kekke-san dig), and the mythic stamina ramen at Genkai in Mito city. But to tell you the truth, we had no clue walking into the place that the beef was already in the pot. And since Koshinbo is miles from nowhere, hopping along to another joint was not an option.
In any case, we ordered the house Koshinmen. My my my, what a find! This is mojo in a prom dress. The whitish broth is slowly drawn from the bones of three animals: cows, pigs, and chickens. Very sensual and loving soup, yet somehow light to the touch. A daring formula but hardly overwrought, no ingredient insistent or distinct, though I surmise that the smoothness is mediated by the cow.
The noodles are wonderful vessels for the broth. The standard men come in thick or thin and have a nice, easy chewiness. In addition, Koshinbo offers a remarkable noodle made from tofu milk (?). I gnawed at a few skeptically and was surprised by their consistency; these, too, would pleasantly complement the soup. Perhaps another homage to Sul Long Tang, the charsiu is thin but savory and refuses to be considered alone. The nori and slightly cooked, julienned white negi were wise additions. And the egg was delectable, mild and just orange enough.
Dan Leone of the San Francisco Bay Guardian would say, "The burps taste good too," but I am not so crass.
We pushed on and played badminton on the same Tama River bank where the country folk were playing baseball and trying to get drunk, rode bicycles up to the hills where Kamen Rider used to fight the Shockers, and watched Pride 20 for dinner. What a great day.
Incidentally, I should note that the feel-good story does not end there. As it turns out, the women who run Koshinbo were once on the television show "Ai no Binbo Dasshutsu Daisakusen," or "The Mission to Set the Poor Bastards Free." The shop is just a few steps from Yanokuchi station in Inagi-shi on the JR Nanbu Line. Go spend some money.
posted by hamu86 at 1:01 AM
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