A Vicarious Dream.
I hate writers who apologise about how busy they are.
How much work they have, how they don’t have time to update their newsletter.
Dude, you are already late; stop wasting bandwidth.
Get on with business, not busy-ness.
Anyway, life has been busy recently.
A handful of you will understand what it means, I’ll get to that eventually.
Let’s just say I had to say no to shoots recently.
I was Brad Pitt.
I remember an interview with Brad about how busy he was during the Brangelina era. Brad replied that everyone thought he was busy (which was true), but if anything interesting fell between the cracks and he had the capacity, he would take the role.
A high-profile job from Broadsheet came through the pipeline. (Several, actually.) I was scheduled to shoot a bakery (name rhymes with ‘Victor’).
It would be great for my folio, publicity, all that jazz.
Sadly, I had to let go of the job due to a scheduling conflict1.
That night, the editor DM’d me a ramen shop in Fitzroy.
“Interested?”
No logo, no context, no menu.
Let me have a look.
*chews gum Fight Club style*
I think I can drop by to have a chat tomorrow evening.
Broadsheet wouldn’t use this line:
Ramen Ako’s is every Japanese salarymen’s wet dream.
Sho quit his 10-year sales manager role in the forestry industry. Under the encouragement of his mother, he decided to start his ramen shop.
My face was smiling, but my heart was sweating.
He has three ramen2 on the menu.
Chicken soup, salt base.
One beer on tap.
Sake from Niigata.
Zero restaurant experience.
As I asked about how he cleans the chicken carcasses, the temperature to make the clear stock, and the hydration of his noodles, his expression gradually changed.
He realised, I was Brad Pitt.
I wasn’t your average chopped liver writer.
I stopped my recorder app, and asked if I could see the kitchen.
My face was smiling, but my heart was sweating more.
Apart from the one guy at the front, and his mother voluntarily submitting to wage theft, he is doing everything alone.
In Fitzroy.
The noodle making, bone scrapping, sous vide pork chashu, soup making, fried chicken seasoning, back of house.
No idea about social media, or marketing. (“I was in the forestry industry, always no internet connection!”)
This is textbook Japanese.
Too Japanese.
So Japanese I want to scream.
So I’m interrupting my busy Brad Pitt life to let you know that I’d documented a ‘true’ ramen shop this week.
Tori Shio Chintan is a very bold choice3. The bowl was light, delicate, and easy to drink. On the chart of popularity, it sits at ‘arthouse’.
We agreed and discussed that young people may not like it.
But the older crowd will.
It’s not a ‘punch in your face’ ramen; it’s friendly neighbourhood ramen.
You guys want Tampopo? This is Tampopo.
The price point is good, starting at $21. If you get the $5.50 add-on egg, charsiu, seaweed and bamboo shoots, you’ll be satisfied.
Sho said everyone who came so far, have finished the bowl down to the last drop.
That was not an exaggeration, as I witnessed it myself when I was there.
My table also agreed that the karaage was very close to Japanese izakaya.
Call it vicarious satisfaction, illusion of competence, or cognitive mirroring. I’m sure there’s a psychological term for this.
We watch cooking videos, thinking we are foodists.
Camping video, thinking we love nature.
Work out shorts, thinking muscle mass is increasing.
Travel reels, thinking we have escaped the cubicle of life.
We share many similar philosophies. I feel the phantom pain equivalent of running this restaurant.
If I were to open a ramen restaurant, it’d look a lot like Ramen Ako’s.
Sometimes, I think he’s too much of a purist at heart, but that’s the cynic in me talking, not the food writer.
I’m glad I covered this place.
I got the egg, instead of the wall.
I believe Sho’s ramen place is exactly the kind of spot food media should be covering more.
Some guy is risking his life to make a specific ramen that means something for his neighbourhood.
Not every restaurant is about hype, marketing, crispy strands of random shit.
Sometimes, we need someone to make good broth and salt.
That bakery could open with scribbles on a napkin and still be ok.
Technically two - chicken and vegan.
His only choice since it’s his mother’s recipe.
“Apart from the one guy at the front, and his mother voluntarily submitting to wage theft, he is doing everything alone.
In Fitzroy.”
😂 but mad respect.