Oh hell, I felt all clever picking out this ramen place from the massive covered shopping streets west of Sendai Station (In various segments, the street is called ‘Clis Road’ or ‘Happina Road’ or something else.).
Turns out that:
1. It’s tsukemen.
2. It’s from Chiba.
Oopsie.
Well, I picked it because it looked tasty, not because of anything else. Except maybe that we had been walking for a long time and it was damn cold to soft city dwellers and we were beyond hungry. There were people waiting inside, which can’t be a bad sign. It had that tsukemen atmosphere – masculine, modern, but still noodley. What the hell did that sentence mean?
If I read (and remember) correctly, this was actually a special localized tsukemen. I believe the soup was a very strong fish-based affair derived from seafood brought in to port at Ishimaki (if you took the train through Matsushima town and kept going around Matsushima Bay to the end of the line, you’d be able to get your own seafood from Ishimaki since the train ends there.). It took about three bites for someone to say “Hell, this is already cold!” and join me in the resolution not to order tsukemen again.
Me, my resolve is strong, and aside from the odd lapse, I don’t get those silly tsukemen any more. (IF the shop does ‘atsumori’, i.e. not washin’ ‘n’ chillin’ the noodles after boiling, and IF it’s hot out, I’ll reconsider.) This was a thickish ramen, and the grilled slices of roast pork were good. I seem to remember the noodles being interestingly delicate and soft for this style, but it obviously wasn’t good enough to make an impression that would last a week later.
Plus I was kinda sick.
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