By the time we’d reached Matsudai Ramen we’d done the big beefy lunch, the vermouth bar and the cocktail bar. I was already making plans for back home, putting the necessary calls into the necessary people to keep the party going. I was tipsy. No, I was drunk. So please do forgive me for using a mixture of Jon’s and Omar’s pictures and also excuse the fact that I consumed more whiskey sodas than dishes of food.
At first it reminds me of Wagamama’s; the wide, brightly lit space of communal benches and a paper menu which sits around the same level of affordable eating, if not a little cheaper. But it quickly dawns on me I’m wrong, it’s more like David Chang’s Momofuku Noodle Bar in NYC’s Lower East Side, albeit with far kinder service and bill. The obsession to detail and the way that the rules of ramen are twisted and contorted to take the traditions to new places.
I liked it more than Momofuku. I’d go so far as saying that I still think about it regularly, even now sat in my pants on my sofa wondering about what I would ideally like for lunch. In particular the chicken karage for which I ploughed through two portions. The chicken thigh is triple-fried in a cornflour batter and gently cracks between teeth, whilst the curry mayo is bright and feels like a blood relative to the crispy coating. They do a mushroom variation that I liked marginally less because the smaller surface area of the mushroom means the batter dominates but it’s still excellent. We order slippery clumps of heavily pickled shitake mushrooms and a kind of kimchi that’s heady with chilli. All of it is big and shouty but also sophisticated. As if Brian Blessed were playing James Bond.
The ramen is superb. Better than the trendy ones in Soho. Better than any in Birmingham. Better than Chang’s in New York. It’s all technically perfect; the milky broth in shade of Tallow full of comforting fatty pork notes, the jammy egg, the noodles that have bite and purpose, and the rolled belly, thinly sliced with charred edges. I was once covered in pork stock by an over enthusiastic slurper on a flight from Hong Kong from Cambodia. I would gladly wear this stock on my shirt like a medal of honour; my stock or another strangers. Throw in the bowl of charsu don with its mix of sushi rice and pork ends and let it soak up the attention like a Love Island contestant in Zara.
It’s now clear why Jon wanted us to see Matsudai Ramen. The business is one year old and already feels like it could shape ramen in the UK. The attention to detail is outstanding, as is the clarity of flavours. It seems likely that we’ll see them expand and hopefully that expansion will see them reach over the border. I’m told that the ramen kits are almost as good as eating in. Maybe that will do for now, well until I head back for more of the karage.
9/10
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