Tatsu Ramen – Los Angeles

When I was in college I thought that all of the world’s ramen came in plastic bags or Styrofoam cups from a single Japanese factory called Maruchan. Whenever I broke up those noodle blocks, poured in the packet of flavor, simmered it over a hot stove, and added an extra-special egg, I ate my authentic Japanese meal with chopsticks on the floor of my dorm room and wondered if someone was doing the same thing at the same time in their Japanese pagoda across the earth.

Thanks to SoCal, I quickly discovered that, among other things, Maruchan is American and Japanese people don’t live in pagodas. That last part was pretty hard to take, but once I recovered from the shock, I also realized that I could do better, so much better with my ramen.

The Bold Ramen at Tatsu was better, so much better. It had as many spices as the Shrimp AND politically-incorrect Oriental Maruchan flavors combined, and this savory swirl of 11 flavors had simmered over a stove for days. The self-regulated spicy heat is a sweeter than anything you can squeeze out of Sriracha, and the flavored egg is infallible.

Back in college, I made spicier Sriracha-loaded ramen to wake up after an all-nighter, whether I was studying, partying, or fresh off a study-party. Yes, those do exist. I was pre-med. I loved my Sriracha, but when you go black (garlic oil), you never go back. The deep, murky oil of the Soul Ramen floats atop a rich tonkotsu base and heightens your sense at a whole new level.

Needless to say, my college culinary understanding was limited at best. I mean, I actually thought that Maruchan and trash can punch were a legitimate pairing. I think I would still recommend that combination to college students, but at Tatsu, I’d say Sake. Even the cheaper ones were a little classier than anything from a frat house hallway, and sipping before you dip will brighten the Bold and spice up the Soul.

Tatsu may be all about the ramen, but the Pork Bun shouldn’t be missed. This 3-inch steamed bun sub was Asian Subway beyond my wildest college dreams. Lined with crisp, non-iceberg lettuce and overflowing with chunks of soft, sweetly-sauced, barely-breaded pork, it wasn’t quite the traditional bun I was expecting, but it didn’t stop me from digging in like a starving senior.

I don’t think I knew what real ramen was until I moved to SoCal. I’ve had plenty of ramen in plenty of places since, but Tatsu made a stronger impression because it still managed to surprise me. The broths are bold, and the flavors are very different compared to the classics made their Sawtelle neighbors and Little Tokyo counterparts. I’m still not sure if I prefer these bolder broths compared to the more classic ones, but I will be giving that black garlic oil at least another try.