Ippudo, East Village
My Japanese knowledge is, to be honest, rather limited. I’ve seen Lost in Translation, I love to shop at Daiso (the Japanese $2 store; there are chains in Singapore), I do sushi with some regularity. On a date about 2 years ago we went to a “home-style” Japanese restaurant and both confessed to each other that we had no idea what that was going to mean. (It meant quite a bit of fried food, and rice dishes.)
Oh, and ramen. Right? Those packets? I grew up making “Oodles of Noodles” (which later became Top Ramen, I guess—the packaging is the same) regularly on summer breaks. I have a stash of chicken flavor in the pantry all the time, and since my parents moved to Singapore I’ve discovered the joys of kim chi ramen as well as laksa. Mom even recently sent me a mysterious package of purple noodle ramen. (When I try it that will be another blog post!) That’s ramen, right?
Okay, okay. I know it’s not. Which is why I’ve been itching to try one of the ramen spots in New York. Tonight I finally did!
