The Gruesome Twosome take a break from their travels for a bit of home cooking. Shola brings Collin into the Studiokitchen to try his own umami-filled noodle bowl. Pics, neato tools, and stuff after the jump. Maybe even a recipe in the near future…

Friendrock is a sticky situation. Whenever you pump up a restaurant or band that advertises on the site, you gotta be transparent. But when the guy who you’ve been partnering with on a hunt for the best dishes in the city says he’s making one for the series, that’s just some blatantly self-aggrandizing shit. Or so you’d think.

The first time I met Shola was during a guest spot he did at Blackfish. It was less than great, and quite expensive. I told him as such. We’ve had discussions about it ever since. He remembers battlescars moreso than victories.

‘That dinner’ he said, ‘was a disaster and I really didn’t want to hear about it. And here you are walking up to me telling me what was wrong with it. Who does that?’

And we’ve been friends ever since.

Truth. He’s a good buddy to have. Can cook like a beast. I always compare him to a culinary Stanley Kubrick. Talented, reclusive, opinionated, calculating, and absurdly polarizing. He likes the comparison, but his music says differently. He listens to free form jazz, but I’ve watched the man swiffer after people in his apartment. His food is done in controlled chaos. The self-professed King of Containers. His spice rack is organized alphabetically, and then by region. Luckily, his creative streak isn’t kept inside an Ikea shelving concept.

Shola knows I’ll talk shit if it tastes like it. We made friends over lots of food chatter. He asked about my favorite dishes in the city, and found that we liked a lot of the same stuff, and had the same concerns and criticisms of others. He’s the chef, I’m the hack psycho food blogger. But, our series inspired him to whip up a dish he hasn’t made in 5 years. A dish he hasn’t shared with someone in an even longer spell. Yakibuta Ramen. He’s even noodling with a noodle dinner party.

He texted me the day of the event: ‘Broth not right. need to do this tomorrow’

That’s one serious motherfucker. Delaying the lunch proved to be worth it, as his broth was insane. 3 parts pork stock, 1 part sardine dashi. The ziploc bag of dried sardines used to create the base looked prepetually frightened in their plastic baggie home and didn’t reek of dead fish. A poached pork belly crackled in the oven as he triple-washed julienne leeks and scallions. ‘Triple washing the vegetables keeps the dish from getting too onion-y or leek-y.’

I was originally put off by the aroma of the dashi on it’s own, but as Shola explained in our first dinner, sophistication is attained by layering. The toppings of black fungus, shredded bamboo shoots, and wakima seaweed added the notorious depth all umami dishes require. The rich fat globules swam across the deep brown pork stock he poured into the bowl before he carefully placed each ingredient in one at a time. He added the ramen noodles using this crazy pasta straining scooper I had never seen before.

‘Washington Avenue. You can find everything there. It was like 8 bucks. Smell that? If you’re house doesn’t smell like Japanese food when you make this, you fucked it up. You can quote that.’

After discussing the crazy noodleutensil for a few minutes, he brought out another ziploc bag filled with more brown liquid and eggs floating inside.

‘Preserved eggs, my friend. Easiest thing in the world. Boil an egg for 4 minutes, carefully peel it , dump it into a bag with three equal parts sake, soy sauce, and mirin. Let it sit for 12 or 24 hours. Done. They’re even good with just some black mushrooms and a spoon.’

That egg was the star of the show hands down, as the hard-boiled whites absorbed all of the savory soy elements and the broth at the same time. The slightly dry and mashed yolk was a perfect foil for the smooth fattiness of the pork belly that melted into dashi heaven. The bamboo added a perfect crunch with the toothsome noodles. The broth was so absolutely rich. After a few spoonfuls and digs with chopsticks, we went straight for just dump the whole fucking bowl into your mouth. Quietest meal we’ve had yet.

I asked how much work this spectacular dish required, and he admitted that people in Japan are making Dashi every 12 hours. ‘You gotta prep a lot, it’s true. But if you’re willing to put the work in, the food cost is way low, and it’s really delicious. But you see the result. It’s tasty.’ Quite the understatement.

We were planning on a pizza head-to-head, which is next on the list, but this was my favorite Umami meeting to date. I already eat noodle soups about 6 times per week, and this bowl was just phenomenal. There’s a huge difference between the fermented anise spicy quality of Pho versus the porky savoriness of Ramen, but they both sooth the soul in the same way. It’s just too bad there isn’t a Japanese noodle house anywhere to be found in Philadelphia. I can only hope the man decides to make his Noodle Dinner a reality, and so should you.