There I am, in Berlin, going on and on about how I love little portions of food (tapas, mezze) and I finally get to a place where that’s what it’s all about and I find myself wanting a big bowl of something. Ramen will do quite nicely thank you, especially if it’s going to stand up to Cocolo in Berlin and Koya in London.
As with most places I favor, Ramen-Ya Hiro is tiny and takes no reservations; which inevitably leads to lining up for a table. Which (also like most places I favor) is small, and cramped, with help yourself cutlery or in this case chopsticks. The eclectic music blares – it must be what the kitchen likes to listen. It’s an open kitchen with two bandannad chefs welding ladles like they are flag semaphores, dishing out steaming bowls of broth.
The menu could fit inside a fortune cookie; three ramen choices and a scattering of side dishes. Gyoza is one – and for me, it always has to be gyoza. I have a steaming bowl of Marisco – the sea food ramen, filled with a tangle of alkaline yellow noodles and small clams. Loveliness in a deep bowl, marred only by a few pieces of burnt garlic that have found their way in.