All Alone Eating Ramen: NYC
Lunch for One at Kohoku-Ku Ramen in Hell’s Kitchen
Like Kevin McCallister, this last May I found myself all alone in New York City. Although my trip was less eventful with no stay at the Plaza or befriending Pigeon Ladies. Rather, I was simply alone for lunch.
On the final day of my recent business trip to the city, I spent day one with clients, day two at a company luncheon, and here I was on day three awash with freedom. Overwhelmed by the endless choices a short walk away, I returned to the list of restaurants I had been compiling whenever I had a moment to dream. My phone was full of screenshots of wine bars, Cuban eateries, brick oven pizza joints, and anything else that had caught my eye within a 1 mile radius of the New York Hilton Midtown.
Ultimately, I opted for the food that I missed the most since moving from Southern California to Indiana: Ramen.
One day, Ergo Yum will attempt to cover the many ramen restaurants in my Orange County hometown. It feels daunting, as I’ve eaten my weight in ramen noodles ranging from Shin Sen Gumi’s Hakata-style thin variation to Kitakata Ban Mai’s distinct curly noodle that absorbs the light broth to HiroNori’s craft bowls with slow simmered richness. I’ve only ordered ramen once in the Midwest and was so disappointed with the bland, yet fatty broth and lackluster noodles that I haven’t tried again. I know that there is ramen near me worth eating so, please, any Indiana-based Substackers, send your recommendations my way: Will road trip for ramen.
I headed to Hell’s Kitchen like a local: Walking quick decisive steps, signals and vehicles be damned, AirPods in each ear listening to music and looking like I knew exactly where I was off to. That’s how I arrived at my destination, Kohoku-ku Ramen on 9th and 49th St. It was prime lunch time, so I braced myself for a line and a wait. Ramen is about the only thing I will happily queue for.
To my genuine surprise, there was no wait outside the sidewalk entryway or inside the restaurant either. There were no other customers at all. Just a lone waitress welcoming me into one of the most vibrant, tiny restaurants I’ve ever seen. The exterior is deceptively simple with minimalistic black and white signage; the interior, however, is designed to evoke the city of Yokohama in Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan. There are lanterns everywhere illuminating the brick and wooden walls, little awnings, stacked sake barrels, and a mixture of Japanese advertisements, banners, and posters. The festivity and fun radiates with gleaming warmth.
My eyes feasted before I did.
I was charmed by Kohoku-ku Ramen and amazed to be alone in this dazzling, intimate space. I sat at one of the little tables, opting for a chair rather than one of the Sapporo crates repurposed for sitting. The other 20 seats in the restaurant remained open as I ordered quickly, basking in the coziness of the shop. The waitress hung out in the kitchen only emerging with fresh plates of food.
I started with an order of takoyaki, one of my all time favorite starters. This felt especially appropriate at Kohoku-ku Ramen given the festive atmosphere. An iconic street food, takoyaki are grilled balls of batter and octopus often mixed with green onions, tempura bits or tenkasu, soy sauce, and dashi powder. They wouldn’t be complete without the thick brown takoyaki sauce, Kewpie mayo, and bonito flakes or katsuobushi on top. Not a fan of octopus? Try takoyaki once before you swear it off. They remind me of savory æbleskiver down to the specialty grill pan. Kohoku-Ku served three of the dumplings on a skewer; the outside was gently crispy despite being smothered in the two traditional sauces and the inside a soft moist batter with little bites of octopus that provided the perfect amount of chew. It was exactly what I had hoped for when I ordered the dish. Even the katsuobushi were waving in the air as if to applaud.
And then for the star of the show: Ramen. While tempted by the 12 variations on the menu, which can include a whole soft shell crab or grilled mackerel, I opted for the classic tonkotsu ramen with its rich pork-based broth. The bowl was adorned with chashu pork, bok choy, bamboo shoots, and a seasoned egg. Just typing this simple description is making me crave another bowl. The noodles were thin and springy with a satisfying bite. The broth was full-bodied with a slight smokiness from 48 hours of simmering, but never overpowered the toppings. Large, round slices of tender chashu pork, seared with a charred, barbecue-like marinade, further enhanced the ramen’s depth of flavor. Every element was individually delicious, including the seasoned egg, which I always save for my final bites. All together, perfection. Happiness is a warm bowl of ramen. *chefs kiss*
The extra noodles were tempting for $3, but I chose to stop because a ramen-induced stupor is more suited for napping than networking.
I was grateful for this meal and not just because every delicious bite filled me with joy. When faced with an abundance of options, we may crave the familiar embrace of comfort food, the exhilarating rush of a new experience, the social currency of a trendy choice, or the unadulterated bliss of pure satisfaction. I sought a feeling. I purposely chose food that makes me feel like myself again. I’ve been in business-mode for days and mom-mode for years, so often the biggest gift I can give myself is a moment to reconnect. Sitting here in this cozy ramen shop, I’m just Leah. Well a totally content Leah, with a belly full of noodles and that distinct lingering taste still dancing on my tongue. I wasn’t lonely in the slightest, because I was finally with me.
This meal was a festival for one that I would happily attend again.
Takoyaki and Tonkotsu Ramen.
Ergo Yum.
Loveeee ramen. 🍜 what a life affirmation/experience.