A bowl of plentifulness
I always remembered my first manager, a British man, recalled with such affection over a bowl of soup noodles he had savoured during his first voyage in China, adding that bowl of soup noodle would be his perfect last meal.
Such is the comfort a bowl of noodle can offer, sipped in flavoursome soup, topped with bright-orange soft boiled egg, a piece of tender juicy chashao (barbeque pork), a handful of spring onion or something else , arranged with geometric elegance.
Just one bowl, yet complete, fulfilled, with plenty love, comfort and passion.
I’ve got plenty fond memories of noodle, but here are some of my favourites:
My mom, who is a vehement believer of ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day’, spares no effort in preparing us the most balanced breakfast. She usually alternates between soup noodle, dumplings and rice porridge, that are all staples in the Chinese breakfast table.
If she prepares soup noodles, she prefers Dragon beard noodles, which is a type of very thin noodles. The soup can vary from simple soy soup, to chicken soup or pigeon soup or spare rib soup. Finally she carefully selects the ingredients for jiaotou (topping): tomato and fried egg, green peas and plain fried prawn, marinated Chinese cabbage and squid, to mention just a few, always finishes with some stir-fried green leafy vegetables.
Menma, Brussels
From every October onwards until next spring, the fiercest Sunday debate is often around if we go to eat ramen or pizza for dinner. In the end me and Felice settled on taking turns of ramen and pizza, but since we’ve got very poor memory, I usually managed to cajole Felice to believe it was ramen Sunday again, which he sheepishly protested. Deep inside he must have loved the decision of eating ramen but shy to admit lest he is not Italian enough.
Menma is 100% Japanese. It's not like non-Japanese can't make decent ramen (not at all, as you'll see below); but knowing your ramen is cooked by Japanese, it accentuates the whole ramen experience. It's the kind of place where no reservation is accepted and sometimes you arrive hungrily on a Sunday evening, they've sold out all the fresh-made ramen and turned you away without seeming to be particularly apologetic but you continue to go back. it's the kind of place that you feel comfortable to order exactly the same thing (in our case miso ramen) and don't feel sorry about yourself because you just want a comfort meal, no fuss, no surprise; a bowl of ramen just the way you want it to be.
Although me and my husband disagree on the origin of pasta (another permanent debate at home), we agreed wholeheartedly how pasta is a democratic delight, the fact that it’s almost universally loved and understood, across nations and classes; be it Chinese or Italian, call it pasta or noodle or ramen if you will, everyone loves it. Consequently we have opened Rossi Pasta Atelier to share with people our passion for pasta.
We also made peace by adopting a hybrid name ‘Italian noodles’ (Spaghettino in meat bouillon) for one of the fabulous dishes in Rossi Pasta Atelier.
Ivan Ramen, New York
The leafy Clinton’s Street in the Lower East Side is the home to many ethnic minority food including the all-time famous Ivan’s Ramen. It’s the only restaurant that we returned a second visit during our 10-day stay in New York. Part of the reason is we can’t afford going back twice to Eleven Madison Park after all, but other than that Ivan’s Ramen fulfills everything you want for a simply good meal with affordability in a city like New York. More words from me is not necessary, Chef’s Table tells all.
