Excess and indulgence, seen on both sides of Sawtelle. The line is always long so this twenty-minute wait felt like mercy. Their regular ramen was a bit too much when I tried it, but tall tales are told about their Tsukemen.
I rarely go for the dipping ramen, but this one is hard to resist. Check out the glistening cold ropes and chunks of half-fat chashu.
The broth lays it on thick, a semi-congee of porky fish, impeccably balanced. The cohesion of salty and sweet, the harmony of hot and cold, the zap of lime zest (squeeze that wedge!), the melty yolk of a soft-boiled egg, at a perfectly-calibrated intensity. It stimulates and it fascinates but not so much as to overwhelm the senses.
Finally, a safe place to play with my food. Even the act of fishing for a single long noodle and dipping without slipping is an experience in itself, and experience that should rank high on every LA bucket list.
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