I basically always have noodles on the brain. It’s like a genetic thing, I think. If you’re Asian, you love noodles. If you don’t love noodles… well, I suspect that “they” take away your Asianness and you’re sent away to some deserted island, non-noodle-loving colony where you can’t hurt the rest of society. I don’t know for sure, but how else can you explain never meeting a non-noodle-loving-Asian, right?
Thank the ramen gods for my friend, Lee Anne – she’s basically a ramen apostle. For lunch yesterday, we dragged ourselves into a hot car and fought our way through traffic (seriously, LA, HOW do you deal with this???) to trek to Daikokuya on the premise, as preached by the ramen prophet Lee Anne, that this bowl of ramen would put all others (including Ippudo) to shame… Strong words.
I’m running to the airport now, so I can’t write every detail now, but let me leave you with this image from my pilgrimage to the ramen land. More to follow tomorrow…
One response to “Ramen, ramen, ramen, ramen… ramen, ramen… Amen.”
BLASPHEMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. but really, how was it?