Hubbie doesn’t like noodle, especially, noodle soups.
His reasoning is that he makes a mess with chopsticks and a slippery noodle.
“Practice makes perfect” is my advice. But he is adamant that there are better things to do in life. C’est la vie…
Therefore, when an acute noodle craving plagues me, the person I turn to is not Hubbie but my good old friend, Fei.
There are more than a few noodle bars in London nowadays, thanks to the Ramen boom in NYC which has leaped across the Pond and ignited a lively interest in this particular Japanese cuisine.
Ramen always existed within the menu of Japanese restaurants in London. However, it was just as one dish amongst many, never featured or specialised.
Then, the hype took hold of the city, and Ittenbari on Brewer St, Tonkotsu on Dean St, Bone Daddies on Peter St…etc, sprouted with a vigour in a very short space of time.
Shoryu, where we visited on that fateful Wednesday, was one of those Ramen boomers.
My apology for not having any images of the interior. The restaurant was already full of diners and I found rather awkward to point my iPhone at them.
We ordered a starter each and shared them.
& Tori no karaage – Japanese style fried chicken…
Both of them were perfectly ok.
We found the fried chicken especially moreish.
The accompanying Japanese style mayonnaise had a sprinkle of Ichimi chilli pepper which added a kick to those crispy and succulent morsels.
To be an extra critical, I found the Gyoza a tad on the thin side.
The skin lacked the texture and the filling was a little bland. They could do better than this, I thought.
Here comes the piéce de resistance, my Kara Tantan Tonkotsu ramen!
It had spicy fried minced pork topping with miso flavoured soup…
The soup was flavoursome without being too sharp.
The miso’s saltiness was moderated by the rich flavour of Tonkotsu – pork based broth.
When it comes down to the noodle itself, I am not a ramen connoisseur, therefore I cannot evaluate it properly.
The texture of the noodle was just right for me, not too soft nor too hard. Comparing with the papery yellow strings I encountered in Chinatown, Shoryu’s noodle was in a different league. That was for sure.
My verdict regarding Shoryu was a 5 out of 5. The service was swift and pleasant. And the atmosphere was lively and comfortable. I will definitely visit them again.
After dinner, we sauntered towards Piccadilly.
The air was balmy and everything looked perfect. I did not have a care in the world.
We sat outside at Cafe Concerto and marvelled at the beauty of London summer…
It was more than a month since we met each other last time.
So we carried on chatting over Black Forest gateau & latte.
Then, a tragedy struck. I discovered that my wallet was no longer there in my bag!
The frantic fingers rummaged through the inside in vain. But alas, no success. How could this happen?! I was dumbfounded.
The rest of this sorry saga is logged in my past entry. Please read it if you care.
It was last Wednesday and I have since recovered.
I have ordered three mean looking wallet chains which I intend to attach to each bag.
Pickpockets will have a nasty surprise next time they pounce on me…