except for a trip to japan, where we were guided by our fearless friends m and k through a wilderness of sake, a whole head of lobster, and the ‘mayor’ of kyoto’s wine cellar to emerge, thalasso wrapped, for one last meal at the ultimate ramen master’s humble counter.
first we grazed on hand’s down the largest gyozas known to man kind. giant rats served with onions and red chili sauce.
next there was some discussion about whether we were hard core enough to have our chashu served separate from our noodles. at last he was finally convinced so we were given a separate plate for our pork and one giant bowl of organic chicken broth into which was placed the lovely mound of noodles. then the basket of salt was passed over which was a bamboo basket full of at least fifteen different kinds of salt, from which we were to select a few, making piles on the sides of our placemats and gently sprinkling kernels on top of each noodle before slurping it down.
now, if there’s anyone who needs a heated toilet seat it’s got to be him. m says we should just buy him one, though he’ll probably just take it home instead so we should really just buy him two.