RANT 'N' RAVE
Ramen for the soul
We kids would drift into the kitchen and
perch on stools or lounge against worktops and watch mum cook. She tried her best to chase
us away. I know how she felt - I hate spectators when I'm cooking. But she didn't stand a
chance. We were captivated by the warmth and activity - the evolving foody smells and the
buzz of anticipation as sausages sizzled and spuds were drained.
It's 10:30pm midweek in Tokyo. I'm cold and hungry but my stomach is carrying the tension
of a long day. I want something I can digest before bedtime. What do I do? Do I creep back
to my chilly dwelling and put on the pan for some pasta? Well sometimes, but that way it's
near midnight before the pangs are sated. Do I surreptitiously enter a hamburger joint for
a slice of fried cardboard in a cream puff? Well occasionally, but I always regret it
immediately.
Or do I perch on my stool in my local ramen shop and enjoy the happy nostalgic buzz as my
gyoza sizzle and my noodles are drained…? No competition at all!
I thought it revealing when I looked up the word "chef" in and English/Japanese
dictionary. It gave two alternatives: sheffu and itamae.
A sheffu of course is the chief - the man in the tall white hat - the man of the
kitchens within. Quite probably you'll never see him. His sophisticated creations will
pass through hatches, borne on trays or trolleys perhaps under salvers, or at least on hot
plates to keep them warm on the long and winding road to your table. Itamae means
"the guy behind the counter" - a far more homey image.
If you're choosing a ramen shop, don't go for the standardized, sanitized chains with
picture menus and a staff of university students. Look out for a little family run shop
with concrete floor, bar around two sides of the cooking space and staff old enough to be
your grandparents. Watch one of these craftsmen at work as he scoops soy sauce and pours
stock from a barrel of simmering corpses, flicks measured pinches of seaweed and bamboo
into the bowls, strains the noodles over his Wellington boots… Every movement is
masterful in its purpose and economy. And the kitchen, visible to all, is scrubbed
spotless without ever looking clean.
As a foreigner in Japan I've had my fair share of being patronized and fawned over,
treated to glassy smiles and brisk brush-offs. But among these dedicated professionals I
feel thoroughly at home; welcomed and served courteously to the exact degree that
sincerity and professional pride dictate. Become a regular and the itamae are like your
local barman back home - they chat if you want to chat, and leave you to your thoughts if
you look thoughtful.
I love the food culture of Japan. Ramen, shabu-shabu, okonomiyaki, sushi -
they're not just great dishes, they're ceremonies which bring us closer to the food and
the people who make it.
Many thanks to Max Clark for this Rant.
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