Filed under East Village, Japanese · Print This Post
141 First Avenue between St. Mark’s Place and 9th Street
212/529.2740
about $30 each for three, with sake, with tip
♥
What shoyu, or soy sauce, ramen is to Rai Rai Ken is shio to Setagaya. Shio, or salt, ramen is the only type available at Setagaya, so you better like it more than you do your pork bone type, or tonkotsu, or fermented soybean paste, or what we all know as miso.
I walked in with two other friends who were craving a hot bowl of soup for dinner and I suggested that we try Setagaya. It was cold outside so the line that snaked around First Avenue when the restaurant first opened is now gone, but the cold air has moved inside with the customers. The glass wall does not help. We sat tucked in the corner by the kitchen bar, but every time someone came in, we felt a chill. We ate our dinner wearing our coats and sharing two small bottles of sake.
Setagaya follows the traditional shio broth recipe that includes boiling dried seafood, like anchovies and scallops, for hours at a time. In fact, all that saltiness comes from the ocean. The broth is not clear because it is also flavored with pork that’s been barbecued on a charcoal grill. It sounds good, but we all had the same complaint: the broth tastes too much of barbecue. The secret ingredient is reportedly Vietnamese salt, and boy, was it salty. I love shio ramen because it’s lighter than the other types, but the charred and salty flavors didn’t meld the night we visited.
The noodles, though, were perfect in texture and stringiness. I love my ramen noodles a little chewy and meaty, and Setagaya’s reminded me of those $5 giant bowls I ate in Tokyo’s ramenyas oh so many years ago. Stick with the regular size when you visit, though, because you can only have so much barbecue and salt flavor in your ramen.
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Filed under Japanese, Midtown · Print This Post
40 West 57th Street between Fifth and Sixth
212/757.3000
about $650 for omakase for six people, 60% comped, with drinks, with tip
♥ ♥ ♥
You know when people say it’s all about who you know? I realized what that truly meant last week when I was invited to join a friend’s family for a birthday dinner at Nobu 57. The birthday boy works in the omakase kitchen, so it was just appropriate that he took his family to work to celebrate. The Dr. and I were lucky enough to be included. We joined the celebration a few minutes late. The night was young and already, the restaurant was loud and buzzing with celebrities. Blistered peppers and grilled fava beans were on the table when we arrived. I rarely see fresh fava bean pods in the market, so I was thrilled to see them as appetizers. The kitchen continued to send plate after plate to our table for the next three hours. The celebrant was all too familiar with the dishes because they make at least 500 of the omakase orders a night from the time the restaurant opens for lunch until it closes around midnight. His friends in the back surprised him a few times with new specials.
They started us with the yellowtail sashimi with jalapeño peppers and the fluke in ponzu sauce. Both were so light I was led to believe that the rest of the night was going to be manageable. But then the presentation began–the kitchen staff trying to impress one of their own. The tuna with spicy cucumbers was served in a martini glass and topped with microgreens. The lobster and shiitake mushroom salad, a popular Nobu dish, became one of my favorites. The lobster was so succulent. The mushrooms only highlighted its decadence. A tofu and mussel salad was more mellow, served in trendy foam made of miso. Although impressive, it was probably the least memorable.
The rock shrimps were served with a spicy cream sauce. I could have done without the creaminess, but apparently, Scarlett Johansson loves them the way they were. The soft-shell crabs were lightly deep-fried and cooked to perfection. I loved them even more because they were served with small chunks of watermelon. Cubed fish was served next on lettuce leaves meant to be picked up with our hands. They were topped with fried phyllo dough that looked like dried noodles. We could have ended our meal there, but the food kept coming. The arctic char was delicately sweet, so grilled cauliflowers and puréed cilantro sauce were the perfect complements. At this point, I was unable to move, but I had to force myself to keep eating because the beautiful lamb chops came in. These lamb chops made up for all the bad lamb I’ve ever had in my life. Redemption is oh-so-sweet. I could have eaten a few more if only my stomach didn’t beg for me to stop. I had no choice but watch as the rest of the table picked up the sushi pieces in front of me which included a salmon lookalike ocean trout and seawater eel.
Thank goodness the drinks kept pouring. The beer and the wine flowed freely. Two carafes of cold sochu, one pomegranate, another lycheee flavored, disappeared immediately. We were too paralyzed to eat the desserts, but we happily picked on three kinds including the Nobu beer ice cream served with a white peach and jasmine soup and the whiskey milk ice cream with coffee crumble. One by one, the kitchen staff came out to greet the birthday boy. They brought with them a warm chocolate cake with green tea ice cream and a plate of fresh cantaloupe with a flickering birthday candle.
I’m not as young as the celebrant, but I had no reason to complain as we achingly walked out of the restaurant to digest. Happy birthday indeed.
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