Hi. My name's Carol, and I love food. No, you don't understand. I love food. If I were on the Titanic, I'd be in the galley (kitchen) eating up the chocolate pudding and the roasted quail. I go to most events, activities and parties just for the food. The company and the conversation are secondary. Here, I'll try to document everything that goes into my mouth. Aren't we excited? Oh, hey, are you gonna eat that?
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Our go-to place in Hawaii for ramen is Ezogiku (ever since Banzai shut down many years ago). There are several Ezogikus on Oahu, one in Waikiki's Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center, another where Daiei used to be (now Don Quijote) on Kaheka St., and the one we went to for dinner our first day of summer vacation.
After spending as much time on Waikiki beach and the Ilikai swimming pool as we could, we showered, stopped at Longs Drugstore at Ala Moana Center for sunscreen and shampoo, then hauled okole to the corner of University Ave. for some ramen and gyoza. By the time we got there -- parking in the tiny lot is touch-and-go but the gods were smiling down upon us that night -- I was starving to the point of fainting.
Our son was hoping to have his usual Japanese fare, the one my mom got him hooked on as a toddler, his miso soup-hold the green onions and seaweed, with rice. We asked if they had any, as it wasn't listed on the menu, and the waiter said they had but it was strong. I suspect it was a slightly watered-down version of miso ramen, which I had, and which is, yes, strong. James didn't dig it.
But I dug my miso ramen and the gyoza deal that came with it. So hit the spot. Still hungry, I piled on six more, melt-in-your-mouth pork gyoza. For some funny reason, I never think I'm going to fill up with just one bowl of ramen. But by the time I slurp up the last of the broth, I always do. My mom and Eddie never finish their broth--they're nuts to waste it in my opinion.
It would be the only chance we'd get there. But once is better than never, right?