Sobaya

Soba-ya is one of my East Village standbys, and for very good reason. Comfortable seating, good prices, polite service and most importantly pitch perfect buckwheat noodles, made-in-house and begging to be dipped in sauce and slurped aloud. However, while the place is not exactly a hole-in-the-wall, its not big either and waits, especially on weekend nights can border on egregious. One way to game the system is to come in for lunch, where I found myself some weekends back with a group of friends.

Most of my companions were taken with the price-buster of a bento set. For a ridiculously low price of $15, you get, not only an expertly made serving of nutty, chewy soba, you are also served a lacquer-box filled with 4 food types: salad, nimono (stewed root vegetables) , agemono (tempura) and yakimono (for that day, a slice of teriyaki salmon), on top of pickles and dessert. I found myself lusting over the tempura, the shrimp and vegetables showing through a crisp and light coat of batter.

Besides the bento set and bowls of soba and udon (also made in house), diners can choose from a multitude of noodles + rice combos as well as a daily special (Chirashi soba, with the ingredients artistically fanned out on of a mound of noodles in a large ceramic bowl). A fan of fish roe, I had to get the salmon + roe ricebowl + soba combo. For a non-sushi place, Soba-ya serves really fresh fish, and I absolutely adore the burst of brininess with each bite of the glistening salmon roe pearls. The salty rice, and the austere zaru soba make for a contrasting but good meal.

We washed down our lunches with leftover sauce and the soba water, left over from the cooking process and dug into the complimentary desserts, precious little pots of eggy custard. With noodles this good, who needs eggs for brunch?

Sobaya

229 E 9th St (Bet 2nd & 3rd Aves)

Menchanko Tei

Give me winter over summer anytime. At least, indulgence in rich and buttery food are condoned and flabby arms are hidden from sight by clever jackets and coats. The streets look cleaner, the subway smells less rank and my electricity bill is much lower. But one thing summer has over winter, aside from plenty of lush stone fruits and the joys of ice cold beer and watermelon slices is the comeback of seasonal cold noodles. It could be soba slick with a soy and wasabi concoction, or fabulously thin and elastic korean naeng myun nested in a ice-cold beef broth.
My favorite cold Asian noodle however is a Japanese dish called Hiyashi Chuka. And of all the ramen-yas in Midtown, I favor Menchanko Tei's version the most as the flavors are clean and fresh and the presentation aesthetically pleasing. A big heap of thin egg noodles hides under a profusion of toppings that include cucumber, lettuce, marinated shitake mushrooms, chicken, a thin egg omelet, seaweed and scarily red pickeld ginger. All toppings were sliced almost as finely as the noodles are thin. A dollop of mustard also helps clear sinuses and gives the sweet and sour soy-based broth a bracing lift. The mustard's heat and the vinegar's tartness stimulates dormant summer appetites and before you know it, you'd have eaten the entire bowl of noodles. It doesnt look like much but you've got the equivalent of half a pack of dried pasta by the time you roll out of the restaurant. Be warned though, that I've observed a negative side effect after eating this dish. The noodles do such a great job of waking my tastebuds that instead of feeling full, I leave in search of even more food, especially dessert. Oh man, will I stop eating already! But I don't have to look far, since Japanese icecream or pudding are on sale at Menchanko too!

Menchanko Tei
131 E45th St (Between Lex & 3rd Aves)
43-45 W55th St (Bet 5th & 6th Aves)

Pho Tu Do

Having made the trip downtown in a blistery sub-20s weather just to have some hot udon at Honmura An, imagine my dismay to find it shuttered on Sunday afternoon. They don't serve lunch on Sundays! Argh...
Utterly defeated, I tried feeling better for myself through retail therapy. Did not work. I tried having sweets to lift my flagging spirits, specifically a buttery cherry scone from Balthazar. Did not work. And my fingers nearly got frostbitten while i attempted to eat the scone with an ungloved hand. I needed some soupy comfort quick, and then I realised I wasn't that far from a bowl of pho in Chinatown.
I find the pho scene in New York not as good compared to other cities with larger Vietnamese communities (pho 75 in Roslyn!) but on such a cold day, a steaming bowl of salty beef broth has great restorative powers no matter where you get it. Lukewarm broth, as some restaurants I've been to serve it, is a cardinal sin. Luckily, Pho Tu Do, my purveyor of choice for the day serves strong and very hot beef broth. I gulp done half a bowl quickly, all table manners forgotten until I my face begins to thaw and I start feeling human again. Then I tackle the generous portion of slick rice noodles, thin cuts of raw beef cooked in the boiling broth and chewy, gelatinous tendons. A heap of bean sprouts flash cooked in the broth adds crunch and some sprigs of mint and a squirt of lemon juice invigorates the broth. I can't finish the noodles but the soup's all gone by the time I call for the check.
Vietnamese restaurants in New York aren't largely specialists and Pho Tu Do is no different, serving pages and pages of other cooked food besides pho. This can be both a blessing and a curse, as variety may come at the cost of less focus, but for $4.25, having some pho on a cold winter's day can't hurt anyone.

Pho Tu Do

118 Bowery St (Bet. Grand & Hester Sts)

Gahm Mi Oak

When the weather is below freezing, and wind chill just makes it worse, a crunchy, cold salad can be a very unappetizing meal. Instead, what I crave for lunch on those winter days is a steaming bowl of soup to ward away the chills. And when I happen to be in the vicinity of Ktown, I visit Gahm Mi Oak for a bowl of seolleong tang.

Gahm Mi Oak is a nondescript looking place on the ktown strip, but its menu distinguishes itself from the other 20 or so restaurants packed on the same block. Instead of the usual gamut of menu items, Gahm Mi Oak's feature a scant dozen or so dishes and a brief survey of the diners will reveal that hardly anything else is ordered besides the ubiquitous bowl of sul long tang. And instead of an array of banchan as is customary at most Korean restaurants, the only side dish served here is a generous plate of homemade radish and cabbage kimchi retrieved straight from its pickling pot. But I am not complaining, as the kimchi is one of the best served in the city, tart yet sweet at the same time, and not so unpickled that the radish tastes raw.

And now the seolleong tang. Admittedly, the white, almost opaque ox-bone broth is not for flavor junkies, but the broth is boiled for such length that it assumes a rich beefiness that does not require a heavy handed approach on spices. All it needs is a sprinkling of salt and some chopped scallions to enhance the taste. And the excellent radish kimchi is a great accompaniment for the soup. Because of the bone marrow that inadvertently seeps into the soup, the broth achieves a thick consistency that does not require additional fortification from milk (unlike fish head noodles in Singapore, where vendors pour cans of evaporated milk to achieve the white milky goodness) And unlike the fuzhou noodle soup made with pork bones, grease is minimal here. Both rice and noodles reside in the broth, and some thin slices of brisket floating on top of the broth complete the soothing dish. So simple, with such humble origins, but so satisfying. I eagerly drink up, slurp the noodles and finish up my rice, and I allow myself the luxury to recede into a warm fuzzy haze of food coma. Finally, with the next bowl of seolleong tang planned, I bundle up, make my exit and face the bitter cold.

Gahm Mi Oak

43 W32 St (Bet 5th & 6th Ave)

Soup noodles on Eldridge Street

When Yanru first suggested eating Lanzhou hand pulled noodles with a side of Fuzhou stuffed fishballs on Eldridge St, I was a little confused. Lanzhou is famed for its thick strands of chewy, udon-like noodles, while meat-stuffed fishballs are known specialties of Fuzhou. No disputes there. But with Lanzhou in the interior of China and Fuzhou right on the southeast coast, how did the cusines of the two regions collide and interact, and in New York no less?
Questions aside, both the noodles and the fishballs at Sheng Wang were pretty good, especially considering the rock-bottom price of $4 for a basin full of homemade noodles, hand-pulled by the chef standing behind the narrow counter. The list of toppings for the toothsome noodles was long and varied, ranging from pig innards to cantonese roast duck, which is certainly not made in-house and which we avoided. After some inquiries, we ordered the house specialty pork bone soup, which ostensibly came with a few hunking chunks of bones, hacked right in the middle such that the marrow was sliding into the rich, meaty broth. To cut the grease factor, the noodles are topped with pickled vegetables. It was certainly not a dainty dish and Rosie and Ying valiantly tried to finish their portions. A good half dozen Fuzhou fishballs, the size of golf balls came afloating on top of Yanru's fishball noodles, and they were a little doughy but also very satisfying.
Besides Sheng Wang, a few other noodle shops with similar menus line Eldridge St, catering to the immigrant community, largely from Fuzhou, who need a fuss-free and nourishing bite. While the food and the shoebox frills-free basement dining room were a little coarser than we are used to, the humble fare did me good, as I warmed myself on that cold and rainy night with the vats of soup and reflected on my fortune once again, to live in a great, diverse city where $40 and $4 entrees exist within a short 15 block radius and are celebrated alike.

Sheng Wang Noodles
27 Eldridge St

Soba Koh

It was a beautiful summer day last sunday, possibly the final summer weekend warm enough for beach afficionados to get some tanning done. It was also a perfect day to slurp some soba to cool off from the unseasonal heat. So I made my way to Soba Koh in East Village for a late lunch, only to find myself the only customer at 2 pm. While its a shame business wasn't as brisk as the proprietors would have liked, I rather enjoyed the calmness of the dining room, further set off by the austere decor (all dark cherry wood and minimalist sharp planes).
What a setting for a solo bowl of hand-made buckwheat noodles! With a healthy dose of wasabi and fresh scallions, the dipping sauce transformed from monotonous to bracingly refreshing. The generous serving of anago and green pepper tempura was crunchy and greaseless, complementary to the slick coolness of the otherwise bland and slightly chewy noodles. I ate quickly, unable to stop from alternately dipping the noodles and the tempura into the sauce and putting the food straight into my mouth. Soon my soba craving was sated. While slightly more expensive than my usual midtown lunches, the luxury of enjoying good food in the stillness of an empty room, where the only distraction you have is whether to eat the tempura or the noodles next and not which report to read while you eat and type simultaneously, well that is a good feeling worth its weight in gold.

Soba Koh
309 E5th St (bet. 1st & 2nd Ave)