Sharmila on Food

Everybody loves ramen

Well, anybody would love this ramen. The best ramen.  But not Everybody Loves Raymond, because that’s just a rubbish American sitcom.

Anyway.

I went and got married.  Which was seriously lovely. And then I went off to Japan to moon around in a honey like fashion.  Which was ace.  A lot of good eating went on.  I’m sure you can imagine.  That mean’s a lot of blog posts. *breathe*.

So, to ease myself in, here’s a little post eulogising about the best ramen I ever did eat whilst I was in Tokyo.

My friend Jamie gave the husband and I a clutch of great recommendations for Tokyo eating before we hot footed it over there.  We followed every single one, and none of them was a dud.  Thanks Jamie.  However, out of all of them, this recommendation was the one I was most grateful for.

Shinatatsu is actually seven ramen shops located under the railway at Shinbashi station.  As Jamie puts it: “the seven ramen shops change with the tastes of the times so only the most popular stay for a long time. I think when it first started the trend was for lots of different specialist miso flavoured soups, but the last time I went the taste was more for “legendary salt” based soups.” 

Well, we found ourselves at Shinbashi around lunchtime and had to give it a go.  So we looked for the ramen shops.  And looked.  And looked some more.  It was very hot.  I started to get my crabby food-deprived face (my husband will testify - this is a look to fear).  After trudging about for half an hour, we found someone who actually knew what we were talking about.  So, off we ambled and then stumbled upon the seven ramen shops!  I haven’t a clue what the name of the one we went into was.  I’m sure they are all good.  We just paid at the ramen vending machine (I love Japan), got our ticket, and took our seats.

And then it came.  Ramen to die for.  Noodles, some greens, some preserved type vegetable, a bit of pork, and a boiled egg.  But so much more than the sum of its parts.  FIrstly, that broth.  Creamy, rich, delicious.  The noodles had bite, were springy, and were miles better than what I have had before.  The meat was even soft and tender!  (How many times is the meat dry and stringy in a noodle soup?).  One of the best bits was the egg.  Inside that white exterior was the most orangey, semi-hard yolk you could imagine. It was a joy to mix it into the broth and then slurp up those noodles.

And then it was over.  If I was a crazy millionaire type I would probably fly my private jet to Tokyo just to eat this again.

I know you can get ramen anywhere in Japan.  I’m sure there are many more places that are just as good, and I am sure if I were to canvas all the foodies on the internet, they could probably tell me about 200 places that are better and then curse me for being a philistine with a bad palate. But I don’t care, because that ramen at Shinatatsu was a proper food moment, and that’s what it’s all about right?

Next up in “Sharmila troughs her way through Japan” - tonkatsu perfection.