Ramen that doesn't come out of a crinkly plastic wrapper and cost .11? Oh, brave new world. It was suggested we try this here new fangled idea, so we did and...
Holy Shiitake! (Ha--that's a food joke). I'm not a foodie, if you can't tell by my reviews--but I know what tastes good, and this place is awesome.
It's a nice, clean little place--makes me feel a little hip and urban, rural guy that I am, without pretension. The wait staff was quick and moderately attentive without being cloying, or hovering. We ordered, and it wasn't all that long before steaming vats of food appeared in front of us--think serving bowl size portions of rich deliciousness. I had the Tom Yam Men because I love it, and this version was fantastic--chocked full of noodles and big chunks of stuff and just enough heat to make me wish I'd toted in a sixpack.
My friends got some other stuff--there was some chatter about authenticity, but I've never been to Japan and couldn't give less damns about what other countries, or even other restaurants, make: I judge based on what's in front of me and kind of sensory kama sutra it performs on my taste buds. A few months later I went back, and I didn't even care to try anything else: I ate the same damn thing.
You can't ask for more from food. I'm a 6'3 345 gluttonous libertine and the generous portion left me more sated than a pair of Dutch prostitutes. I'll be back, even if means delaying visits to some of the other promising places on my list.