Momotaro Ramen

Ramen, like sushi is one of those foods for which there is no substitute.  When you crave it you’ve got to have it.  When I first came to Japan, we’d stop off at the ramen shop after a night out.  These days, we go to our local ramen shop for lunch.

Momotaro Ramen, with its white plastic siding and red noren flapping in the breeze, doesn’t look like much on the outside…but what ramen shop does?  As you enter, you feel a blast of warm air from the open kitchen with steam billowing out from vats of boiling water, frying vegetables and sizzling gyoza (potstickers).  A cloud of cigarette smoke may also be hanging over the counter or a table of chain-smoking customers.  Annoying, but inevitable.

Plain Ramen comes in an over-sized Chinese soup bowl, heaped full of noodles, scalding hot soup (a secret formula made from chicken and vegetables, perhaps enhanced by dried sardines or seaweed) garnished with a slice of chashu (soy-sauce simmered pork), some slivers of green onion, half a semi-hard boiled egg, a small square of nori (dried seaweed), a couple pieces of bamboo shoots and a slice of naruto (fish cake).  You can choose from three flavors:  salt, miso or soy sauce.  The salt taste is slightly briny and goes particularly well with a dollop of yuzu kosho—a paste made from yuzu peel, chili peppers and salt.  Soy sauce taste is perhaps the most popular, but miso brings earthy warmth to the ramen. 

Steam-sautéed gyoza dumplings are soft, yet crunchy, with a lacy film of fried potato starch.  They taste of garlic chives and are tantalizingly addictive dipped in a mixture of soy sauce, rice vinegar and red pepper oil.  Though at home we often substitute Chinese black vinegar for the soy sauce and clear vinegar.

Back in “the day,” my Japanese pals and I would always order the obligatory plain ramen and share plates of gyoza. But then I met Tadaaki, and discovered the world of chile-flavored ramen such as oniramen (kimchee)  or neginamba (with slivered Japanese leeks tossed in a chile-based sauce).  All can be ordered in varying levels of hotness.  Tadaaki’s appetite has not diminished over time, but mine has post-pregnancy and breast-feeding.   So, if I order ramen these days, I usually go for the Mini-Ramen:  a half-sized portion, though only allowed with Plain Ramen.  If you order the Mini-Mini Set they throw in 3 gyoza.  Momotaro also serves shobiru:  a small frosted mug of draft beer.  Nice.

My boys always push me to try other ramen, but I usually don't.  Though they give me tastes if I ask.  Momotaro Ramen (the signature dish) is topped with a sprinkling of canned corn and two deep fried glutinous rice cakes called mochi.  Despite the canned corn, it’s actually quite tasty.  The mochi, crunchy on the outside and creamy in the center, proves a good foil for the salty broth flavored with yuzu kosho.  The thick noodles not only have a pleasant bite to them, but also do not inflate as the thinner noodles tend to do.  Andrew loves Kantonmen; a gooey-looking concoction that belies its true nature:  a bowl of luscious broth and soft noodles studded with still crunchy pieces of sautéed cabbage, carrots and bamboo sprouts.  Are you getting hungry yet?

Often, it’s not ramen I crave, but Yaki Niku Teishoku:  quick-sautéed, thin-sliced pork belly served with a small pile of crisp green onion curls, one perfect raw egg, a dab of kochujan (Korean hot sauce) and a wedge of lemon.  The creamy raw egg softens the lemony spice while the onion’s heat balances the rich pork. A small bowl of pristine white rice and some pickled vegetables are the perfect accompaniments.  Matthew’s fond of Yaki Soba, a greasy dish of ramen noodles fried with chashu batons, slivered carrots and pieces of cabbage in a sweet sauce.  The crisp vegetables are the only thing that works for me in this dish, but it’s a popular festival food and well loved by most.

I love cooking at home, but Momotaro serves up soul-satisfying food that hits the spot when we’re in the mood.  And it’s down the street.  Tadaaki, always the voice of reason, doesn’t like to eat out much.  It goes against his farmer grain.  So, occasionally Tadaaki will whip up ramen at home.  It’s quite the production, though doesn’t need to be.  Once Tadaaki gets into a cooking frenzy, he can’t stop.  Tempura night yields mountains of crisp fried fish and vegetables with more variety than wise.  We tell him not to go crazy at the fish shop, but he doesn’t listen.  He’s got another voice whispering in his ear:  the voice of a child always hungry (farm child, big family).  With ramen, it’s no different.  Tadaaki prepares more toppings than reasonable, but there’s no deterring him.  You can be more restrained.  But you must eat ramen hot and you must slurp the noodles, sucking up the soup with the noodles in a tornado-like fashion.  If you’re a gaijin, like me, then maybe the noodles might flop around and splatter a bit.  That’s why I hold a napkin in front of my chest as a guard.  I think Japanese are born neat eaters…but that’s changing.

Tadaaki’s Home-style Ramen

Make soup: Cut up some carrots, small leeks and peeled sliced ginger.  Add free-range chicken wings, a little salt and cold filtered water.  If you’re in a hurry, use a pressure cooker to make the stock.  Otherwise simmer for more than an hour.  (In Japan, meat is usually not sold on the bone, so Tadaaki uses chicken wings.  Traditionally pork bones also go into making the broth.) 

Toppings: Chicken Wings: Remove when broth has developed a nice flavor and simmer with equal parts good quality soy sauce and mirin.  Sauté julienned carrots & onions in Canola oil with a little salt until no longer raw, but still a little crunchy.  Fine chop thick green onions (negi) with their whites.  Simmer bean sprouts (moyashi) in strained broth for a few minutes.  Soak wakame in cold water to reconstitute and cut into small lengths.  Boil eggs for 6-7 minutes depending on size (the yolks should still have a wet center), run cold water over to cool, cut in half with sharp knife and scoop out with soup spoon.  Break nori into small squares. Menma:  cut boiled bamboo shoots into 4” lengths.  Sauté in sesame oil with dried red flakes for 2 or 3 minutes.  Splash in a little mirin and soy sauce for flavoring (sweet seasoning always precedes salty).

Noodles: Make egg-based pasta dough, but use sesame oil instead of olive oil. 

Soup Seasonings: Prepare seasoning in over-sized soup bowl:  salt, miso or soy sauce.  Mix in a little broth to melt salt or emulsify the miso, then add more broth to all the bowls right before the noodles are done.  Quickly odd toppings (sparingly) and serve immediately.

Comments

[Mora Chartrand-Grant]

Hi, Nancy. Should Tadaaki ever tire of farming he should consider a cafe. What luscious home cooked food he makes! The yaki niku teshoku at Momotaro had my tastebuds going wild. That lovely egg reminded me how much I love Japanese eggs. They taste so much better than eggs here at home, even those from the local farmers market. This segment also brought back memories of visting and eating at the Ramen Museum in Shin-Yokohama. We fell in love with the Kyuushu-style pork broth ramen. Thanks as always for the recipe and mouth-watering photos.

[Rodney Fong]

I'm finally getting a chance to catch up with your postings, only to find something totally familiar, as ramen shops are quite plentiful here. Ramen shops here have a little more local style menus than yours, but basically offer the same fare. I'm not a particular fan of ramen. Can't really get into the soup base, but my wife and son love it, especially the miso broth. I prefer saimin, which has a more fish-based dashi as its broth, or a good bowl of Chinese won ton mein, being more true to my culture. Local additions combine ramen with curry, chicken katsu curry, korean kalbi, but not the really local spam. You have to go to a saimin shop for that. I do remember, however, that one cold, rainy night in Tokyo, I found my way to a small ramen shop, and uttering the little Japanese that I could, had the best cha shu ramen and gyoza that I ever had, followed by another cold night with a nice ebi soba. I love your imagery which is then followed by equally beautiful photography. I will try and catch up with your other writings.

[Sarah O'Toole]

Funny, we were just dreaming about Yaki niku teshoku the other night . . .

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Mora: as Tadaaki is a free-range egg farmer, I've always been biased when it comes to Japanese eggs--though it's interesting to hear you also find they taste better than elsewhere. Tadaaki and the boys are in love with that pork broth ramen as well and drive 30 minutes to Takasaki every now and again for a bowl. I have yet to go. Regarding yakiniku teishoku, see my comment to Sarah below.

Rodney: I've missed your thoughtful comments. I remember you mentioned saimin in another post. I like the sound of the fish-based dashi. Are the noodles the same as ramen? Tadaaki and the boys sometimes make suigyoza (boiled pot stickers) and we dip them in Chinese black vinegar with red pepper oil (and cilantro if we have it). Yum. Initially the steam-fried ones are really nice, but the boiled ones have a slippery, clear taste that lend themselves to a more satisfying meal in the end. Do you remember when we made them at D. Hu's house back in our college days?

Sarah: I watched closely as the master at Momotaro made my yakiniku teishoku the other day. It could be fairly easy to replicate. Heat the Chinese iron stir fry pan (chukanabe) until very hot. Splash in a little oil and saute some thin sliced pork belly (like used to make bacon-no rind). This all goes very quickly, but he adjusted the heat a few times. I'm guessing down for some succulence and then up again to burn off the dressing he adds. Anyway, he shook in some salt and a generous amount of black pepper, tossed, then splashed in some mysterious homemade chile flecked dressing. Since the pork tastes fairly unadulterated but has a bright taste, it could be an oil and vinegar concoction. I'd use canola oil, with a bit of dark sesame to flavor, rice vinegar and kochujan...maybe some red pepper oil. The shredded green onion curls are of course first soaked in cold water, then patted dry. The only thing missing is lots of chopped cilantro (we bring our own sometimes).

Sorry for co-opting your Riku story, it worked better in the first person. Riku apparently wants to go on the school trip again (for the food). So far I tentatively have: "big Momoka", Shuto Y., Riku, Kyo and Haruka T.. I'm wondering how we will all fit in a 7-seater and if I'll remain sane after a 8 days with that line-up.

Oh, and sorry everyone, I misspelled teshoku: should be teishoku. Oops.

[Rodney Fong]

Saimin noodles and ramen noodles are similar, but slightly different in color and texture. My wife could delineate the differences better, as she is the expert. I think saimin is a Hawaiian version of ramen, probably created by the immigrant plantation workers from Japan. There are other similarly created foods, like manapua which is a local version of dim sum. Other than differences in the broth and noodle texture, the dishes are garnished similarly (except for the corn, which I have seen here at ramen places). Thanks also for a long lost Stanford memory. There were a lot of good times.

[Preeva Tramiel]

Hi, Nancy,
I'd love to hear about mochi. I love its glutinous texture. What is it, exactly? I've eaten two forms of it.

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Hi Preeva,

I will be writing about mochi in future, but in the meantime, a quick rundown:

You wash glutinous rice using the same method as regular Japanese rice. Soak overnight. Drain and wrap in muslin cloth (cinched up like for cheese. Put muslin bundle in a bamboo steaming basket with lid and place over an iron pot full of boiling water set over a hot fire (wood burning, if possible). Steam for about 40 minutes to 1 hour. Remove hot glutinous rice and dump into a hollowed out tree stump (usu) that you have soaked over night (remove water in the AM). Have a bucket of cold water prepared next to the usu. Pound the rice with a huge mallet (reaching far over your head and giving the rice powerful, rhythmic thumps). Your assistant should dip his hand in the cold water and fold the rice "dough" over itself in one quick movement in between the thumps.

Once the mochi is smooth, you can fold in millet seeds or aonori (green nori flakes). The mochi is either pinched off in balls then added to grated daikon or natto or shaped around small mounds of sweetened smashed anko beans; or it is rolled into a large thick slap using cornstarch instead of flour. (When working with mochi, you must work quickly as it needs to be formed while still hot.) This slab will dry for a day or so, then be cut into squares that can be deep fat friend (Momotaro Ramen), broiled (when done, dip in soy sauce, wrap with nori and eat) or softened in soup (ozoni). At this point it is prudent to freeze them fairly soon as they will mold after about 4 days or so.

Nancy