My Night Consisting of the Best Dinner Ever and a Cheese Plate
Now, I am no restaurant reviewer. I’m hardly qualified. I like all sorts of restaurants running the gamut from a pulled pork sandwich in an upstate NY off-the-highway spot with vintage signs, to a pre-fixe menu at the 4 seasons hotel. Both evoke the same pleasure of happiness when it starts, sweating throughout, and sadness when its over. Then anger that I have to pay for such a short-lived experience. I’m also really not a picky eater. When someone is like lets go to dinner and they suggest a cafe that serves turd muffins, i’m like sure sounds great. That is not to say I don’t have my secret spots where i really like to WOW my dates friends. I also like sauce and melted cheese so put one of those on anything (cardboard, broken glass, my wallet) and I’ll be happy and well nourished.
So yeah, back to my point: I am certainly no restaurant reviewer. But I am a sort of “night” reviewer. I mean I have had over 8,395 (± finals week all-nighters; when i was a baby and slept a lot; the year i thought I was a vampire and slept during the day and went out at night….wait….) Anyways, before my night, came my day, which meant lengthy gchat conversations with Max. We talk about all sorts of things like life, love, you, and dinner time. So naturally, we started talking about what sort of cuisine would make us giggle with glee…and then it hit us like the feeling 2 hours after you eat a Big Mac. We wanted Ippudo, the altar of ramen noodle. We needed Ippudo. So we discussed strategy. Who would we invite? How would we occupy the two hours of waiting time before we sit down? How would we mentally prepare ourselves. Because Ippudo is truly a production.
As I walked out of my office to go meet Max (David would meet us later), I could sense strange things happening. First of all, I was listening to my iPod when all the sudden it changed mid-song (I was listening to semi-charmed life) to a song I hadn’t listened to in at least 4 months. It was Korn - Freak on a Leash. I don’t know how to interpret this but it was weeeeird. Then, I am on the train, and a very good-looking gansta-esque guy asked me for my number. He wasn’t like gangsta thug, like “i sell crack during the day” type. He was like basketball thug, gnome sane? Like he looked like he played a lot of bball and followed it on TV. And probably lives with his mama and two younger sisters, who absolutely adore him. He probably is an all-around good kid, finished college, but has that one best friend who is always getting into trouble (a la Save the Last Dance). His nick-name is probably Ace-Boogie, which is just a euphemism - he certainly does not like to dance. So I thought that was weird cos I thought the only way people were getting together these days was via match.com and okcupid.com, or sleeping with your HS friends (or your friends’ HS friends).
So Max was waiting outside of Ippudo. He had already put down our names and they gave us an hour and 15 mins. So we went to McSorley’s around the corner. The ratio of beer drinking from Max to Me was 5:1. I obviously thought about this - there was going to be a lot of liquid in my belly in approx t-80 minutes so I knew that filling myself up on beer was not the way to go. So instead, we ordered a cheese plate and I filled my belly with saltines and sliced cheddar cheese. Do you know what a fucking cheese plate is from McSorley’s? It’s a fucking plate with cheddar cheese, saltines and onions. It’s fucking brilliant. There’s no bullshit at McSorley’s. You ask for a black or white beer and you get a fucking black or white beer. You ask for a cheese plate, you get a fucking plate of cheese. You see a service dog with a sign that says “ask to pet me” you fucking ask to pet the dog or there will be problems. There is gerbil cage shit on the floor and newspaper on the walls. There are middle-aged people chugging beer against young folks. The bartenders are kinda mean to you but in that “i’m your uncle and i hate you but i also love you” way. They also always ask you, “oh leaving so soon?” even if you have been there for 7 hours. It’s one of those places where you can get old reallyyy fast. David was also at the bar and then there was a funny secret but I don’t think I am going to talk about it.
Then we went back to Ippudo to see if they could seat us earlier but they told us 20 mins so then we went to Black and White, another bar around the corner. And we drank some more. Then Ippudo CALLED US and I heard fucking angels sing and the rich pork broth calling out my name. It sounded like bubbles.
So then we got to Ippudo and as they were walking us to their tables, all the chefs and the hostesses and the waitresses started to greet us in Japanese. It was like an asian debutante ball. They were SO excited.
So we ordered porn buns, which are little slices of pork in a delicious sauce in this white fluffy, sticky bun. And the sky opened to the heavens.
Then we got our soup. whatever I fucking ordered was fucking ridiculous. Like I said, I am not restaurant reviewer so that is all I can really say. We joked about the ingredients being virgin blood, angels’ tears and unicorn saliva. But seriously, it is that fucking good. I think I cried when it was over. The fucking ferrari of ramen.
Then Max and I sang xmas carols all the way to our appropriate trains. But when we left each other, our lives were meaningless and sad. Ippudo changed my life for the 45 mins it took me to eat their food, and once it was over, I was back to the my diluted vegetable broth (which is a metaphor for my stupid life).
And that is the story about how Ippudo put me in therap
