The line at Daiishi Asahi moves at comparable speed considering its length, and an order of pan-fried Gyoza shoots out faster than I can say "Take me to Tokyo." The gyoza are shockingly good for faster food; lighter, juicier pork-and-scallion filling with an al dente wrapper done just right.
The prices are low for the quantity AND the quality. Even my mini-bowl has several slices of chashu stewing in the porky-rich broth lightened by just a hint of shoyu. The noodles are slightly slippery ropes, making slurping a must.
Slurping is a skill, and my splatter-free technique needs work. It is a genius method for cooling the broth before it burns your tongue, but how anyone slurps so fast without covering both themselves and the person next to them with broth is beyond me. The guy at the next table hoovered a large bowl in ten minutes, max, and his white shirt remained immaculate. I know this because I observed him closely while wiping stray droplets of broth from my chin, my hair, my forehead...and my ears. Perhaps I'll just stay in Japan until I learn to slurp.
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