An hour or so later, and we are back in Tokyo. Hakone was pristine and beautiful, but I miss Tokyo. There is something magical about being in the heart of the metropolis, where millions converge and engage. Maybe not engaging in a way we are used to – to our eyes, this is a strange and clamouring mass of human bodies – yet we can’t but feel touched that everything is done with much sincerity and pride in one’s work?
Of course, the first thing we look for is food.
We are starving for more of Tokyo’s great gastronomic offerings. Which doesn’t have to be expensive, luxurious fare, whatever stories might have you believe. There is humble fare, affordable and delicious awaiting us.
This is Ikebukuro where food options never run out at all hours of day and night, unusual even for Tokyo. It isn’t long before we find ourselves in front of a ramen shop with a long line outside (always a good sign!): Tokyo Tonkotu Noodles.
Strange thing is, ramen while a quintessential Japanese staple, actually originated in China. We wonder if it has any connection to the the Chinese lāmiàn (拉麺) or “hand-pulled noodles” since the names sound similar.
We put aside our questions for now and join the queue. Soon we reach the entrance; past it, and there is a ticket machine to figure out. We select the ramen we desire, insert the corresponding number of notes, pick up the ticket that is spat out by the machine and hand it over to the staff.
More waiting. We are directed to stand behind seated patrons who are already tucking into their noodles. Such torture. Almost unbearable. And when it gets just about that, we are invited to sit.
Soon steaming bowls of noodles placed on the table before us. Served in a thick, flavourful broth made from the meatiest of pork bones and fat for many hours till a creamy soup results. Topped with slices of chāshū, hard-boiled duck eggs, dried seaweed, green onions, niblets of corn and a smattering of roasted sesame seeds that melts in the mouth.
We will learn far more about ramen in the days, weeks and months to come. Ramen will become a lifelong passion; obsession, perhaps.
For now all we know is that this is delicious and good to the last drop. One final slurp and the noodles are gone. And so it is time for us to go. We say “Gochisosama deshita” which, in Japanese, is a heartfelt “Thank you for the meal.”
Thank you for this wonderful meal, our first bowl of ramen in Japan.