[OTHER] Worst Meal in Tokyo: Candidate #1

My old barber, Sato-chan, knows all the grimes of life in town. So when she fingered the Dosanko Ramen in Tsukishima for the Worst Meal in Tokyo contest, we instantly knew that we had a front-runner. Undaunted by an earlier attempt to test out Sato-chan's verdict that met with shuttered doors on a Sunday, Mrs. Ramen and I set out again today, now equipped with a getaway vehicle in the form of our brand new used car.

I scanned the excessive menu for the most vile offerings. The most criminal choices appeared to be a Ankake Curry Ramen -- which I really can't even imagine -- and a Kimchee Chige Ramen. As it turns out I wasn't so brave after all, so I ordered something from the next level down on the barf-o-meter and asked the deaf old lady for a Curry Butter Ramen. Apparently no one had ever ordered this dish, since she had to discuss the request with the other deaf old ladies in the kitchen. As best as I can figure, the soup was made up of the curry roux used for "standard" curry dishes, mixed with a little bit of chicken stock and a lot of hot tap water. It came topped with menma and brussel sprouts. No charsiu or any other meat to break the monotony. For some reason the noodles were brown. There was too much stuff in the bowl. And after a while the soup took on a flavor like green copper. By the way, for all that I think they forgot my butter, but on the other hand maybe it was just obscured by all the other atrocities.



Mrs. Ramen knew before walking in that she would have Sato-chan's recommendation, the Corn Soup Ramen. This classic seems to rely heavily on Knorr corn potage powder soup mix. In contrast to my brown noodles, Mrs. Ramen's were yellow and gloopy; they appeared to have been cooked in the Knorr corn potage powder soup mix and -- what else -- hot tap water. The boiling liquid was never "cut" from the noodles, as is standard practice. The soup had a smoky, revolting taste.



In between suppressing alternating waves of shock, disgust, and laughter, we argued with each other about which of us had ordered the worse food. One thing is for certain, however: Both entries qualify for the four piles of shit rating. In case you need to verify this madness for yourself, here's a picture of the culprit.



We had also ordered a plate of gyoza as a change-of-pace fallback, but it never made it to our table. As we were leaving, the deaf old ladies realized that they had left them sitting on the dumpling grill.

Lastly, since we were in the general area, we decided to spin by to take a picture of the locus of a prior horrid meal. Many months ago, we had a late lunch at Sushi Kadzuki near Kiyosumi Shirakawa station for no other reason than it was the only place open in that area around that time of day. I had a nigiri set and Mrs. Ramen had a kaisen-don. Peculiarly, the raw fish neta was fine. The problem was in the rice, which had a very strange, excessively sweet and excessively sour quality to it, and each grain had a frighteningly tough texture. However, even though the raw ingredients were fresh and therefore this place probably poses no health risks, I do own up to having explicitly barred sushi restaurants from the Worst Meal contest. At any rate, edible neta makes for no worse than a three piles of shit score.



In brighter news, the wife and I went to see Paco de Lucia play last night. I hadn't seen the guy in about 10 years, since his reunion with Al di Meola and John McLaughlin at the San Francisco Jazz Festival. The old man's still got the magic.

[FIGHT] My First Triangle

On the evening of Monday, July 4, I triangled Nagata from the guard. My first one ever. An excellent feeling, even if it was only against another white belt with just a few weeks more experience. Maybe I was fueled by the "All-Fried, All-the-Time" menu at T.G.I. Friday's from my Independence Day lunch with the guys.

Once sparring time started up, Masada-sensei pointed to me and Osada to mix it up, reasoning that we were roughly the same size. We wrestled around for a minute but I felt that I was the stronger, and then I caught him in transition. I was able to take his back and get some hooks in, though I again ran into some trouble securing either an RNC or collar choke from the back. I then tried the feint clock choke we had learned recently, but Nagata turtled while holding onto my extended left arm, stretching it out into an uncomfortable position.

I ignored the discomfort in my left arm and eventually got it free, all the while keeping on his back. Looking for a new option, I rolled off his back to try to get an armbar. My head slid to the mat while I tried to pull out his right wrist. Unfortunately, Osada defended and got a bend back in his right arm, and stayed on his knees. I settled into some sort of guard position, except that only the right half of my back was really flush on the mat; my left leg was now around Osada's right shoulder while my right leg was near his left ribcage.

I still held on halfheartedly to my opponent's right wrist. He was concerned enough to try to pull it back out of my grasp. I offered a little bit of resistance. Then Osada pulled his right hand out completely and I quickly switched to the triangle choke; I now trapped his left arm, with my left leg snaking around the back of his neck until it met the back of my right knee. My legs were set so I took the time to do everything else properly. I yanked his left arm as far across my body as possible, sharpened the angles where my legs met and swung the right leg out and away, then pulled Osada's head down and lifted my hips. It took a while to lock in, but then the tapping came.

Now all I have to do is tap his compadre Nagataki.