[category]
[title]
Pass by the broth-craving hordes waiting outside culty East Village ramen joint Setagaya, and discover the charms of its sleek, swank roommate, a Malaysian eatery. Wooden walls sprout coiled loops of rope in a dim interior where diners use tiny flashlights to negotiate the menu: We savored chicken wings wrapped in screw-pine leaves and then fried, and Samui prawns laced with Thai chilies. Our Malaysian dining companion waxed nostalgic over soupy coconut pudding with tapioca and tiny chunks of sweet potato.