Fattay, fattay, fattay. It had been a while since I ‘challenged’ the abura soba. I say ‘challenge’ in the Japanese way, meaning to try something new or perhaps distasteful. There’s nothing distasteful about this shop (except perhaps the pained expression of the guy looking at my camera), but I generally don’t see the need for non-ramen noodles (other than soba, you know?). Abura soba is better for me than tsukemen, because it doesn’t make any pretense about being hot.
Well, this is certainly hot. Not ‘Poland 1939’ hot, but a bit of a tickle. We had to wait a fair while even though it was Sunday (I believe) and the shop is in the night-time entertainment area, so it must be popular. It certainly hews to the modern aesthetic, what with all the black clothing on the staff, bare concrete and brick, and bare bulbs. Carefully-calculated industrialism.
I’d like to make a joke about the noodles being carefully calculated too, but I can’t remember a damn thing about them. The sauce is on the bottom, and it’s a really thick reduced ramen base, and you have to stir it up, but I can’t tell you beyond that. I’d just go to Junk Garage if I really wanted to eat this stuff. Or this place in Akiba.