Another Japanese-chain import slash Asian-themed “fast food” joint arrives on the East Side, but unlike Momofuku Ssäm Bar or Ramen Setagaya, I like the atmosphere of Ippudo. It retains traditional ramen-counter sensibilities—traditional, simple recipes; overheard Japanese—but the place is comfortable and inviting, not just an after-work stop-and-go for the hassled salaryman (or hipster). After all, “Ramen is Japan’s Soul Food,” at least according to the Flash splash screen of Ippudo’s website, in soul-sucking Brush Script.
An entire front window has been boarded over by long rectangular blocks of wood, fit snugly into place like a completed Jenga puzzle. A wall over the bar in the antechamber is decorated with dozens of ceramic ramen bowls. Down a short hall, the small dining room in the back features lots of thick woods and darkness punctuated by thin halogen beams.
I sat at the counter, which has seven tall, sturdy-backed chairs upholstered in white leather or a reasonable facsimile. The counter’s smooth, handsomely varnished wood that’s deeper than most, about three feet, so there’s plenty of room for your menu, condiments, place setting, drink and elbows, without encroaching on the space of the flanking bar-customers. I recommend a seat because you can watch the chefs cook and prepare stuff. I was hypnotized to relaxation watching them bustle around sautéing stuff, preparing elaborate salads, cooking meat, chopping vegetables and tofu, generally doing five things at once.
The tall, skinny young Japanese guys who comprised the main chef staff had the non-uniform uniform of a do-rag, vaguely skateboarder pants and a slim long-sleeved T-shirt illustrated with a vibrant, busy print (one guy’s was dark blue with koi arcing all over it). Everyone—the chefs, the servers, other random people—seemed to be talking loudly all the time, always in Japanese, except for the laughably token white guy. He was serving the couple sitting to my right and when I overheard him say, “You guys want some water?” I actually groaned to myself. The customer sitting to my left attempted to compliment a chef on the pork belly; there was a brief but awkward pause of translation difficulties, then the chef smiled, gave a slight bow and said, “Hai!”
In fact, the two most popular words shouted at Ippudo, intermingled with short Japanese phrases that begin musically high then trill down a brief scale, are the abrupt but friendly “Hai!” (“Yes!”) followed closely by “Hey!” (“Hey!”), the latter of which served as an all purpose interjection. I heard it used for “Your attention, please,” “Welcome back,” “One Sapporo, comin’ up,” and the tight-kitchen comment of “Coming through!/Watch your back!”
I had the minimalist but delicious “Shiromaru NY” ramen, a traditional tonkotsu variety made with housemade al dente noodles, a few slices of stewed pork, trimmed white leaves of crisp cabbage and thin-sliced scallions. I’ve read the broth is made by boiling pork bones and fat for 18 hours, after which the stock is reduced thrice to gain the correct consistency and flavor. Steaming while I ate it, the soup was fragrant with the scents soy, pork and mushrooms, and the color of coffee with a bit of cream. Not too much salt, either, which is a challenge to excellent ramen: this was seasoned perfectly so as not to overpower the flavor. (And you get your own pepper grinder if you want an extra kick.)
Next time I’ll consider an artful salad and perhaps the green tea crème brûlée. Ippudo also features a comprehensive sake menu.
Ippudo
- 65 Fourth Ave. (between E. 10th and E. 11th Streets)
- (212) 388-0088
- Meal 27 of 52: ramen ($13) and a Sapporo ($6).