VittlesVamp

My Ramen Problem

I am in the minority. I have yet to swoon over a bowl of ramen.

I have tried. Seriously, I have!

I've downed bowls brimming with pork broth at hot spots like Chuko Ramen, Ganso Ramen, and Ivan Ramen, and recently tucked into the steaming bowl pictured above at a new neighborhood place called Kogane Ramen. They all are fine, but I feel like I'm simply missing something when I see friends weep with joy as they dive in.

Perhaps the real thing can't live up to the hype I experienced early on in my introduction to authentic ramen -- the uber-foodgasmic 1985 Japanese film Tampopo. It made learning the culinary art of ramen look like a quest to find the Holy Grail (if the Holy Grail could illicit heavy slurping and oohs and aahs.)

I'll probably continue trying ramen at friends' behest. I just hope that some day I will have a ramen awakening.

And Now For Something Completely Different

I have many beloved go-to's, as documented more than once on this blog. Yet, as of late, I've felt the need to shake things up. Try something new. I haven't always been rewarded by my intrepid grazing, but when I am, I win big-time.

Case in point: My latest trip to Philadelphia to see Mama Vamp. Instead of going to one of our Sunday brunch standbys - namely Stephen Starr's French bistro Parc or Chef Marc Vetri's Amis - we hightailed it out to Fishtown at a bartender-friend's recommendation. There, we entered a meat-apalooza hot spot called Kensington Quarters. The place is half butcher shop, half restaurant, and all delicious.

Still feeling a bit of bovine overload from my summer trip to Argentina, we opted to split a classic Egg, Bacon and Cheese Sandwich...

Well, maybe it wasn't that basic.

And, then there was that order of pancakes we shared...

Yeah, this was really more of a Dutch Baby with stewed apricots and thick whipped cream. Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby!

As I said before - a win big-time.

Don't think the adventurous attitude left me when I left the City of Brotherly Love.

Just last night, I planned to hit a mainstay Chinese joint in the West Village, but the potent combo of cute signage and frigid winds, blew me into a Singaporean restaurant on Cornelia Street called Chomp Chomp. I need to thank the sign company and Mother Nature for the find. Didn't take photos, but let me tell you that you want their BBQ Stingray - all at once delicate and richly satifying, the fish was grilled, wrapped in a banana leaf, and accompanied by a tart flavor-bomb of a calamasi sambal for dipping.

New might be the rule for 2016. Then again, some of these new spots could just end up becoming my next set of regular go-to's. And, I wouldn't mind one bit.