Justin and Phil took me to this Ramen restaurant that Justin had been raving about for...maybe 2 or 3 weeks. Of course, other people also heard good things about this restaurant whose name I can no longer remember. I would like to think that the reason I can't remember the name is because we went to eat there on a Saturday night and had to wait a whole hour to get in. The wait was longer than the meal, but the meal was worth it.
I had been craving noodle soup. In college, I loved digging into a bowl of soupy noodles at Asahi Ramen. This place suffices.
So for one whole hour, we bummed around the vicinity of Columbus Circle talking about anything and everything. We occasionally glanced at the wait staff, hoping we'd get to finally get inside the restaurant. Maybe getting into The Ivy is just as hard? J/K...
When they finally called us, I could understand why we waited so long. The restaurant is reputable, BUT it's possibly the size of my room. I took five steps from the street to the interior, and I made myself at home on the barstool. This restaurant is so tiny that people put their belongings above their heads, on this net, as if we're all about to go on some Disney ride. The chefs were literally flambe-ing things in front of our eyes! Very cool.