Before the Lululemon faithful underwent baptism by bone broth, Shigetoshi “Naka” Nakamura was one of Japan’s four “Ramen Gods.” Beginning his Stateside tenure as the ramen rabbi behind Sun Noodle’s Ramen Lab (a proving ground for ramen creativity), Nakamura now channels his power through a tiny storefront at the Manhattan-side foot of the Williamsburg Bridge. The question is, can Nakamura convert believers?
In case you forgot where you are, Nakamura’s name lords above the tiny room in old-school bulb signage. It’s table service, which is surprising considering the space’s setup, but the whole place is only about 18 seats, including a narrow bar against the wall, so nobody will wait long for anything. It’s spotless, quaint, functional–everything you need, nothing you don’t.
The tontoro bowl is Nakamura’s tonkatsu varietal–the standard pork-based bowl. While it does not come standard with an egg, one can be purchased for three extra dollars, and it’s worth it—the egg is perfectly tempered and well-seasoned. The broth is delicious; rich but not too salty—the kind you’ll chase to the dregs. Atop your ramen, you’ll find pickled mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and some leaf spinach. These add some light, fresh, acidic contrast and crunch to the broth, but once things are underway, they can get a little lost. The chashu pork is also delicious; fatty and tender, but the bowl only comes with a single slice. The noodles are excellent–not too thick, not too thin; perfectly springy with the perfect chew. You get a nice bundle with a standard order, but a kaedama refill won’t go amiss.
If you’re not into terrestrial animals, the XO miso is the move. In fact, even if you’re carnivorous, you might want to opt for this way. The bowl packs a unique, layered punch with beautiful miso depth and fishy, funky, spicy XO notes. For anyone who’s strictly vegetarian, the truffle miso bowl uses that same miso broth but adds in an earthy mushroom aroma that’s a tough sell if you’re not into white truffle oil. If soup isn’t ringing the bell for you, there’s tsukemen and mazemen for your noodle fix—notably, the Szechuan mapo bolognese is numbingly spicy and hearty, with ground beef and tofu clinging beautifully to the chewy noodles.
Other than the ramen bowls, you can pick from a short but pleasing menu of izakaya fare; the fried chicken gyoza are textbook crisp on one side and juicy inside, the geso calamari is a plate of crispy fried squid tentacles and truffle fries. Everything is good and priced to entice. And there isn’t a bar but they offer a couple of japanese beers, some sake, a selection of japanese sodas.
I guess it’s really not for me to say whether Nakamura is a “ramen God.” What I will say is that based on what’s happening at his restaurant, the potential is there. He may even garner converts among the disaffected; anyone sick of squishy noodles and boring, oversalted broths will feel like they’re coming home here. Each thing I tried was delicious, well-executed. And each component of the ramen was nearly perfect. No mean feat. So what’s keeping me from throwing in my lot? I wanted more. More chashu, a larger helping of noodles, a bigger pile of veg. Is that a critique? I’d say it’s more of a prayer.