Behind The Scenes of A Food Assignment.
In February, I was approached to write about Shimbashi Soba's new opening.
Since I write about ramen, surely I am also knowledgeable in buckwheat noodles, right? How different can they be?
*roll eyes*
I was eye-rolling because it’s probably true, not the ramen = soba part, but mostly I’m the next best thing they have to write about soba.
I decided to accept the job because Shimbashi has been around for almost ten years. TEN. It started in Liverpool Street near Chinatown, next to Horoki (RIP the first fusion Japanese bar). They then opened a second branch in Collingwood and Northcote before closing the CBD brand during the lockdowns.
Their lease along Smith Street was coming up, and the plan was to move across the road, the former Gontran Cherrier bakery. (RIP mochi baguette.)
I was eye-rolling because it’s not the best soba in town. It’s the ONLY soba restaurant in town.
I was eye-rolling when I accepted the assignment.
I took it because it reminded me of some advice I gave to Diem. Will I forgive myself when I see a soba story written by another white person three months down the road?
It was February, remember, when the RBA promised zero increase in interest rates, when everyone was busy supporting small businesses and not complaining about inflation. I remember.
Even then, Shimbashi deserves to be featured more than, say, a dozen cafes offering soy-oat-pumpkin-chai-kombucha latte cafes with salmon avocado and steel-cut confit mushroom shiso bagel.
If you don’t seize the microphone when offered, then don’t complain about not being heard after the show.
The brief was a 500-word opening news story, including quotes and interviews, and photography. (What can I say I’m the full package.)
The renovation took some time, so when the shop was ready, after I finished writing and shooting it, it was May. Another three months later, it appeared on my feed as a restaurant listing.
Unbeknownst to me, the brief changed.
Words - rejigged, omitted, and rephrased.
Six months, from the first email to a restaurant listing.
That’s the reality of modern editorial writing.
But hey, they got their listing, Shimbashi gets free PR before their new spot opens in Carlton, I got paid, and managed to learn the secret ingredient they use to bind the buckwheat without using gluten.
So below is my original draft, I think you should compare it to the final listing here.
It’s a good study in the tone of voice, how an editor edits (cut out the bullshit), and how you should write for a restaurant listing in the future.
And success - a white person didn’t write about soba three months later.
It was six months.
Soba, So Good.
“We use organic buckwheat from Tasmania, I think they are more flavourful and fragrant compared to the Japanese buckwheat,” says Takafumi Kumayama, owner of Shimbashi Soba, while explaining their on-site soba noodles making process.
If the name and signage ring a bell, it’s not déjà vu - they've recently relocated from a block away. Now occupying a former bakery site that comfortably fits sixty with higher ceilings, gone were the old lacquered wooden tables and strangers' elbows during peak lunch hour.
Loyal patrons would recognise their oldest employee - the stone mill, humming away next to the entrance, slow-grinding buckwheat into flour (sobako) to be made into noodles every day.
The tradition of eating soba noodles originates from the Tokugawa period (1603-1868). It could be seen in 17th-century ukiyo-e paintings being consumed by the rich and nobles. The realisation that it helps to prevent beriberi - a disease caused by the lack of thiamine, became a catalyst for its growth, and food carts and delivery bikes made it accessible to the public of old Tokyo (Edo).
Containing all nine essential amino acids and antioxidants, soba noodles are often served chilled with dipping sauce (tsuyu) during summer, and hot in broth (dashi) during winter. Extra toppings, usually tempura seafood and vegetables are served on the side. It is a tradition to celebrate with toshikoshi (translates to ‘one year to another’) soba during New Year's Eve in Japan.
Soba making should meet three conditions (san-tate) to be considered best: freshly milled (hiki-tate), freshly made (uchi-tate), and freshly cooked (yude-tate).
“The common soba noodles use 20% flour and 80% buckwheat (ni-hachi) as the flour helps the buckwheat to bind together,” says Kumayama, with twenty years of soba-making experience in Japan and Singapore under his belt. His first shop at Liverpool Street in the city relocated to Northcote during COVID, and a third shop is scheduled to open in Carlton North coming June.
“Using a technique not common in Japan, we are making 100% gluten-free buckwheat (juwari) noodles.”
In fact, even the batter of tempura, fried chicken and tofu, the soy sauce, hojicha flavoured ice cream with toasted buckwheat, are all gluten-free.
The marriage between the crunchiness of a tempura prawn and the slippery smoothness (tsuru tsuru) of soba noodles is hard to beat, but here's a local favourite topping: grated mountain yam (tororo). The Japanese are obsessed with its sticky and slimy texture as it was refreshing and hydrating during summer.
Hidden from the menu, sitting in the kitchen is sobayu - a cauldron of boiling water cooking the soba noodles. Mixed with the leftover dipping sauce to finish a meal, it has plenty of dissolved vitamins, potassium, dietary fiber, and starch, available free of charge.
The non-traditional dish is the spicy Red Dragon - soba noodles in soy milk, mushroom and sesame-based broth with various toppings, almost a vegan tribute to tantan-men.
Everyone else with noodle phobia will be assured to find bento boxes and rice bowls with karaage, teriyaki salmon, agedashi tofu and plenty of vegetarian and vegan-friendly sushi rolls on the menu.
Shimbashi Soba
140 Smith Street, Collingwood
Tue to Sun
12.30pm-2.30pm, 5.30pm-8.30pm
Mon CLOSED