Restaurant experiment: Ippudo

Ippudo

65 Fourth Avenue between 9th and 10th Streets

New York, NY 10003

212-388-0088

http://www.ippudo.com/ny/

I have found my new favorite ramen joint.

Ippudo has been on my list ever since I tried Momofuku Noodle Bar and Ramen Setagaya.  Even though Dave and I got here a little after 6:30 on a Tuesday, we still had to wait around two minutes to be seated (the hostess said five).  Not bad, considering waits are notoriously lengthy here.

We agreed that the decor was beautiful, with wood pieces (yeah, I don’t know Home Depot words very well) on the restaurant’s outside as well as inside.  Mirrors, wood, a sculpture that looked like fireworks.  Dave and I were seated side by side facing mirrors and a centerpiece reminiscent of a fireplace.

Our bowl-cut-sporting waitress suggested we get the pork buns.  Was she on point or what?  They were much like Momofuku’s pork buns and just as good though they were a little spicy.

Dave ordered the specialty tonkotsu ramen which is a pork-based broth, and I went with soy sauce-based broth ($13). 

The fried egg reads “Ippudo,” how nifty is that?  Mmm, the pork was tender and just fatty enough.  Scallions!  Seriously, scallions make all better.  Dave and I were in heaven because the ramen ruled.  Or rocked out socks, if you will.  Hells yeah!  700+ Yelp reviews can’t be wrong.

Restaurant experiment: Dojo

Dojo

14 West 4th Street at Mercer Street

New York, NY 10012

212-505-8934

I took pictures of my meal but accidentally deleted them in a wine-induced haze from the next restaurant I will write about.  Sigh.  So this will have to be pictureless.

Dave suggested we dine at Dojo since he had given it his seal of approval; plus it is cheap.  Good enough for me.  Dojo is pretty popular with the college crew, judging from all the young ‘uns sitting in the main dining area.  We sat in the bar area which was healthily crowded as well.

Despite the Japanese name, Dojo serves up all sorts of things, from burgers to burritos, salads to sandwiches.  I eschewed the Japanese grub in favor of the chicken parm sandwich with fries.  The fries were skinny and salty which earns an A from me.  The sandwich was huge too: on a baguette the size of my foot, healthy slathers of marinara, and too much chicken which was escaping from the clutches of the buns.  I gave up and had to leave a tiny portion.  Food wasting kills me.

So yes, Dojo is the perfect college kid restaurant!

Restaurant experiment: Sushi Samba 7

Sushi Samba 7

87 Seventh Avenue at Barrow Street

New York, NY 10014

212-691-7885

http://www.sushisamba.com

Leslie pointed out the West Village Sushi Samba to me over three years ago, and I remembered it because she was saying it was in Sex and the City (disclaimer: I do not watch that show).  Since then, it was on the food rolodex, but I hadn’t pulled it out until now because Zen wanted to do Restaurant Week and wanted a Japanese joint.  Okay then, Sushi Samba it was.

Peruvian, Japanese, Brazilian.  There sure are a lot of Peruvian places in the West Village, no?  The hostesses exuded bitchy vibes.  The colorful room made up for that.  Though a loud table of mostly males nearby brought the points down a bit.  Our waitress’s heavy accent was sometimes difficult to decipher.  Swift service though.

Frito Mixo
squid, prawns, rock shrimp, ponzu mayo, smoked soy

The seafood was fine, nothing stellar, but I was all over the ponzu mayo.  Dee.  Lish.  Harped about it to Zen.  Smoked soy was just tempura dipping sauce.

Braised Short Rib
roasted garlic, boniato purée, honshimiji mushroom , cabrales-stuffed shishito

The pepper looked like a breaded okra.  The rib was tender though lacked distinctive flavor. 

Warm Chocolate Banana Cake
maple butter, banana chip, vanilla rum ice cream

The wafer was exceptional!  They needed to forget the other components and just make this dessert solely chocolately wafers. 

Sushi Samba was style over substance.  Not bad food, but I wouldn’t enthusiastically rave about the place to my pals.  Though I did feel trendy sitting in our corner booth with bamboo wall.  If you wanna go, go early, and be armed with a reservation.

Restaurant experiment: Inase

Inase

1586 First Avenue between 82nd and 83rd Streets

New York, NY 10028

212-268-1238

http://www.inasesushiusa.com/

Sushi restaurants in the Upper East Side are a dime a dozen.  I always say that there are too many sushi parlors and Italian joints in the hood…what is up with that?  Lisa suggested we go to Inase for dinner because she’s been a few times and could safely recommend it to me.  Plus it’s run by Japanese people which is a plus in my book.  Yes, I am looking at you, East.

It was a gross wet evening, but we made it to Inase without getting drenched.  The dining area is long and narrow with an art gallery feel.  For real, the pieces had price tags next to them.  Lisa was telling me that the place is family run; the husband is the chef and the wife is the hostess/waitress.

I settled for the sushi regular since it was the most inexpensive sushi meal at twenty bucks.  You know what’s impressive?  You receive both soup and salad with your entree!  I was blown away since that doesn’t happen in NYC even though that is usually what goes down at other sushi sellers in other parts of the country.  The miso soup and salad were fine.  I wish we would have those hot towels, but none appeared.

I had requested no wasabi, but they goofed and gave Lisa my no wasabi regular and me her wasabi regular.  Not a grave error, but still.  That’s exactly what happened last time I had a sushi meal elsewhere.  The waitress apologized a million times.  What made up for that was having uni (sea urchin) included in the sample.  That’s amazing!  That doesn’t happen much either since it’s costly.  Yum yum yum.  And instead of dried seaweed, they used shiso (beefsteak/perilla) to wrap the salmon.  Interesting.   

Not pictured are the rolls that were included.  I picked salmon amongst the other choices.  Good good.  Low key atmosphere, high key food.  Thanks Lisa!

Restaurant experiment: Shimizu

Shimizu

318 West 51st Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues

New York, NY 10019

212-581-1581

http://www.shimizusushi.com/

“One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever know.”

Oh, the irony of hearing that song play later during my evening! Due to certain circumstances, I ended up eating out by myself which is something I rarely do. In NYC, it’s rather acceptable but it is definitely more satisfying to eat with friends. Sigh.

I put on a brave face and entered Shimizu, which is located across from Braai where I went a couple of weeks ago. The sushi chefs and waitresses greeted me with strong and cheery rounds of “irashaimasen.” Since I was solo, I opted to eat at the bar where one of the two sushi chefs was chattering with a twosome in Japanese. A Japanese-run sushi establishment is always a positive sign. The other chef was standing closer to me, but he didn’t talk to me, and I didn’t talk to him.

The waitress was super attentive, and she whisked away every empty vessel the second I set it back down on the bar. I decided to order the prix fixe menu, which for $35 was a fair deal. You got your choice of soup or salad, appetizer, main, and ice cream. Shimizu’s space is on the modern side and very clean. I stared at an image of a fish under the word “sushi,” the backdrop for the sushi masters. What do people do when they dine solo? I didn’t feel like pulling a book out, and talking on the phone seemed crass. So I resorted to having conversations with myself in my head.

• Salad: Generous serving, with crispy cold veggies and plenty of ginger dressing. This salad was a little more distinctive with the addition of seaweed to the greens. I approved.
• Appetizer: I adore oysters on the half shell, so when I saw them on the menu, I made sure to get them. To my relief, it’s still an R month, and I was safe. The mollusks came out on a bed of ice, bathing in soy/vinegar dressing and scallions a plenty. After squeezing lemon juice on the bivalves, I slurped those suckers down. Mmmmmmm! I wish there were more.
• Entree: I always order my sushi platters without wasabi, so I was dismayed when there were smears of green under the pieces of fish. I decided to point this out to the waitress because I was unhappy and she seemed eager to please. She apologized a thousand times, and the chef made a new plate for me. The balls of rice were kind of on the small side so that the fish pieces flopped over, enveloping them like a tent.
• Dessert: This was when I decided that there was some kind of disconnect between myself and the waitress. Initially I said I wanted red bean ice cream but quickly changed it to green tea. She seemed to understand. After the sushi, I was presented with a scoop of red bean ice cream. I decided to not say anything about that, and I do like red beans so it wasn’t like the wasabi incident, but still. I’m not sure what was going on.

Once the ice cream bowl was taken out of sight, the waitress gave me a cup of tea. I don’t know if that was part of the prix fixe or some sort of peace offering for The Wasabi Incident of 2009. I drank it gratefully, as the ice cream froze me, and the tea thawed me.

Shimizu has some pros working in its favor. It’s close to Broadway theaters, reasonably priced, authentic with both Japanese employees and clientèle, and has fine sushi. The order snafus threw me off though.  And as for party of one dining, you focus more on the food and service and atmosphere, mostly because that’s all to focus upon!

Restaurant experiment: Ramen Setagaya

Ramen Setagaya

141 First Avenue between East 9th Street and St. Marks Place

New York, NY 10009

212-529-2740

Setagaya–a neighborhood in Tokyo (because you guys asked me what it means)

Stacy was in the mood for non-demanding comfort food, and she concluded that Asian noodles fit the bill. I agreed. There are a couple of Ramen Setagaya shops in the city, but we ended up at this one, and this place over other ramen purveyors since it was the first one we/I spotted in the cab.

The restaurant is glassy. And smallish. And there’s a Korean place hidden in the back. And if you’re unlucky, you have to wait in the line to be seated. Right off the bat, you can’t turn your head without looking at signs telling you that Ramen Setagaya is cash only. Well, that’s thoughtful. Flatscreens play a loop of self-promotional material straight from the Land of the Rising Sun. Max pointed out that it wasn’t really necessary; we’re already sitting here, right? I guess it’s just to emphasize that RS is a Japanese chain, direct from Nihon. Authentic and all.

Right. They should play Human Tetris or Most Extreme Elimination Challenge instead. Silly Japanese gameshows would complement steamy slurpy stuff perfectly.

The three of us all ordered either combo D1 or combo D2 for about $13, 14 each. Along with your ramen, these options let you select a side; Max and I elected for the meat gyoza (sorry I tried to steal your portion, dude!), and Stacy went with the curry rice. She had kind things to say about the curry rice. I found it interesting that you could only get pork with your ramen. It’s either the other white meat for you or nothing. As a consolation prize, you could have that pig meat BBQed, but it’s still pork. But why am I going on about that? I like pork. I was okay, no qualms.

I haven’t been to many ramen shops in the city. However, I have paid Momofuku Noodle Bar a Halloween visit and fancied the noodles but the broth had enough salt to coat the streets of all five boroughs prior to a snowstorm. Would Ramen Setagaya suffer the same salty fate? Suprisingly no, and it turned out I found that a little more sodium chloride might have helped. Hello, soy sauce. My friend! The gyoza was average, but I liked the goodies in the soup bowl with the noodles: seaweed, salted duck egg style chicken egg, bamboo! The pork was delicate and fatty, rock on. But yeah, the broth. It’s like Goldilocks: too salty, not salty enough. Still have yet to encounter just right. That shall be my quest, or one of my food quests.

Stacy and Max were champs and went for the mochi ice cream, and I was offered a bite which was all I could manage since my stomach was saying no no no. Better than Trader Joe’s mochi ice cream, which I recall didn’t impress me all that much.

Post-dinner activities led me to conclude that ramen+gyoza provide ample sustenance for a budding pool shark.

Restaurant experiment: Kamui Den

Kamui Den

186 Avenue A between 11th and 12th Streets

New York, NY 10009

212-777-2096

I wasn’t that hungry before Lily, Afua, and I walked over here from the art reception, where I had stuffed my face with sugary treats and cheese plus crackers.  But hey, Japanese food isn’t all that heavy anyway, so I could squeeze some more calories into my stomach.

Kamui Den was dead when we were seated, though by the time we departed, all the tables were full.  Our waitress was a young Japanese woman with tight curls reminding me of a 1930s MGM starlet.  She wore a bow tie too, to complete the old-fashioned theme.  I did like how the place wasn’t too loud and how the tables weren’t on top of each other.

Lily and Afua shared a carafe of plum sake.  I’m not a sake person but even I found it nice.  Due to the earlier calorie-fest, I ordered the chawanmushi off the appetizer list and some California rolls.  I love chawanmushi which is a delicate egg custardy/soupy dish.  Not overwhelmingly eggy, and warm for the wintery weather outside.  The California rolls were fine but maybe a little beige-tasting: not super exciting.   

We received cups of tea with the check.  Free tea, perfect way to cap off the meal!  It’s always a positive sign when you’re at a Japanese establishment and the staff is Japanese and the majority of the clientele is Japanese.  I wish I could have partaken in the tasting menu, $20.  A $15 minimum per person is kind of strange, but at least they accept plastic.  The bathroom was freezing though, eep.

Restaurant experiment: Aoki

Aoki

234 West 48th Street between Eighth Avenue and Broadway

New York, NY 10036

212-956-2356

Nick and I came here for a prompt dinner before catching a preview of the new Shrek musical. When we walked in, the space was toasty and therefore super welcoming, as it was like 5 degrees outside. Or at least it sure felt that way. We sat in a padded booth (I mention this because the other side of the restaurant featured what looked like Plexiglas booths next to a shimmering wall of water) in the swankily decorated restaurant. The waiters were eager. Our particular guy, I’m not sure why he wrote down that I wanted salad with my meal and then asked me a minute later if I wanted soup or salad. Go figure.

Aoki was not very busy so that the food came out quickly. It was a weekday evening, so that might have something to do with it.  Nick seemed to like his rolls a lot. I had ordered chirashi. The salad was your average sushi accompaniment salad, nothing out of the ordinary. The chirashi was not right. Chirashi is pieces of raw fish placed over a bowl of rice, and what was presented to me was a tray with a half-sphere of rice in one corner, and the fish in the other corner. Huh? That’s just sashimi with rice on the side. I was irked. And the fish should have been colder. Bah.

Restaurant experiment: Momofuku Noodle Bar

Momofuku Noodle Bar

171 First Avenue between 10th and 11th Streets

New York, NY 10003

212-475-7899

www.momofuku.com/noodle/default.asp

The Momofuku restaurants are popular in NYC, with the crown jewel of the empire Momofuku Ko having some crazy reservation process which I won’t go into detail here but heard about secondhand. It’s like a Black Friday for 16 seats apparently?

But yeah, let me set the scene. It’s Halloween, so costumed kids are running around the East Village, invading stores for free pieces of candy. AmyC suggested that she, Lily, and I grab a bite here at Momofuku Noodle Bar since we had attempted to a million years ago and were denied (the wait was nuts) and instead went and waited for a table at the just-as-packed Yakitori Taisho (yum).

Surprisingly we didn’t have to stand around at all. It was still a bit on the early side, close to 6:30pm. All the tables were snapped up but there were slots open at the bar. We squished around a small end table, next to a dweeby pair. I had to overhear their bland talk without choice; I’m not about communal-type seating.

Our sever was a sweetheart: friendly and willing to answer questions. That always helps a dining experience. If you are not into noodles, never fear, as the menu features alternatives, mostly of a Korean nature. Our trio shared an appetizer of the steamed pork buns. These pork buns were not like the buns you would find in Chinatown. They were very artsy, avant garde, as the bun part resembled a silver dollar pancake and was folded over to protect the pork and slices of cucumber (!). The pork was fatty and tender and delicious. No dim sum prices however.

AmyC opted for the more deluxe Momofuku ramen with pork and a poached egg, while Lily and I went for the more basic ramen option with chicken; you could opt for shredded pork. Now, ramen broth is usually a bit salty, but this soup was off-the-hook salty. We like to slurp down all the liquid but had to refrain because otherwise we’d be nursing bottles of water the whole rest of All Hallow’s Eve. I was disappointed. The chicken pieces were salty too. To make up for this gaffe, I did wholeheartedly approve of the actual noodles. We’re too used to the dried stuff so when we eat actual, real noodles, it’s jarring, though in the best way possible.

Photo by AmyC

Restaurant experiment: Kyotofu

Kyotofu

705 Ninth Avenue between 48th and 49th Streets

New York, NY 10019

212-974-6012

kyotofu-nyc.com

I acted like Ramona and got pest-y, telling my companions that we should go get dessert after that Korean BBQ dinner to cool my tastebuds which were a bit spiced out. Lucky for me, my friends complied with my request, and Amy suggested Kyotofu in Hell’s Kitchen. I’ll fess up that the idea of tofu as dessert seemed beyond bizarre and I was a skeptic until I tried sweet tofu and then became a believer. Hallelujah!

The dining area looks very 60s spaceship; we leaned against white mattress-like cushions. Amy, Frank, and Sherwin sipped on sake (I’m not a sake soul), while I stuck with a pot of lavender tea ($4) and shared with fellow not sake gal Shirley. If you are a sake enthusiast, Kyotofu is your home, as they have selections galore of sake and even sake’s rural cousin, shochu. The tea consisted of lavender buds only which was odd. Smelled better than it tasted. Like sipping a sachet.  I suggested we get the dessert tasting at $17, and I expected three tiny desserts but was pleasantly surprised when the desserts kept coming out, five in total I believe on three plates, and portions were sharable, not one tiny crumb per person. If you want regular food, Kyotofu serves it up as well. Frank ordered wee hamburgers, okay, “chicken and tofu sliders.” Cute and very Japanese.

The signature sweet tofu looks like flan but tastes 1000x better. Sorry flan lovers. It’s also submerged in black sugar syrup, a wonderful touch. The tofu cheesecake is your basic cheesecake. The warm miso chocolate cake sounds scary but doesn’t taste scary; there’s some sort of kick to it. A stumble would have to be the yuzu and blackberry anmitsu (agar jelly)…no one at our table could give it a thumbs up. Yuzu, yuzu, yuzu. I’ve given you two chances and I can definitely conclude that I don’t like you. Be gone. Finally there was a swirl parfait of white sesame and chocolate soft ice cream. Can’t go wrong with ice cream.

We also ordered a full-sized black sesame sweet tofu. Delightful! Just like black sesame ice cream at Chinatown Ice Cream Factory.

Downsides: you might have to wait (our party was about to plop down at the bar but a table magically opened up in the back), and the place was freezing (shut that AC off, yo!).

I’ll never be skeptical about sweet tofu again!