Tables for One: Ramen (uptown)
For a nice, steaming bowl of ramen to help you get rid of New York’s latest 4-week cold (aka The Snot-Bomb), get on the uptown R train and get off at 49th street where you’ll find Sapporo without even crossing the street (if you take the middle exit). Introduced to me by a Japanese boyfriend twenty years ago, it’s a well-kept secret amongst Japanese businessmen and Japanese tourists who find Sapporo mentioned more often on Japanese language guide pages than anywhere else. It’s the real thing, and the patrons are a lively mix of airplane stewards, asian tourists, local businessmen, and sexual tourists who’ve been brought there at some point by a girlfriend or boyfriend. (Like me, twenty years ago, okay okay).
If you’re forced to wait for a seat, you can browse the “roommates wanted” posts on the bulletin board in the doorway, though they’re usually in Japanese. But if you can lunch before 1pm or after 2pm you can get a seat at the counter with little or no wait. During even odder hours if they’re not crowded they usually offer a table. The ramen aren’t the best, but they’re standard authentic fare even by Tokyo standards. And even though the curry rice sometimes has hardly any beef chunks in it (I’ve had to request some on occasion, but to their credit they were graciously provided), it’s still worth having when you want something to warm you up on a cold day. You can always get the Katsu Curry Rice if you’re really in the mood for meat, which is the same thing but topped with a chicken or pork cutlet.
But the “Miso Veggie” as the waiters call it (Vegetable Miso Ramen on the menu) is what draws me back again and again. It is a bowl of hot miso broth and noodle topped with all the lightly sauteed veggies you may have not been eating enough of with your busy schedule, with plenty of cabbage, spinach, onions and scallions. The Special Ramen (with pork, fish cake, and everything else) also comes highly recommended by friends of mine. Don’t forget to sprinkle it with the red pepper blend and a dash of hot sesame oil if you want to work up a healthy sweat. The gyoza are crisp and impeccable, and hot sake is available if you’re splurging or had a rough day. Their kim chi is deliciously nuclear, but if you don’t finish it, I don’t recommend a doggy bag unless you want a subway carful of passengers wondering who died in your backpack.
The only caveat: this is a dive. A nice, cheap and cheerful dive, where the chefs behind the counter are in a constant flurry of activity, flames, and loud japanese order-shouting (you’ll learn a little just from listening to them), with the odd itty-bitty cockroach crawling into view every few months when the exterminator is overdue, no doubt. But for the well-seasoned traveller this only adds to it’s authenticity, making it even more like the delicious ramen stands in the Tokyo train and subway stations, where the cockroaches are given a cut of the waiters’ tips.
If you’re not a pussy or a princess, you’ll be won over and keep coming back.
