Amanda Saxton chronicles the culinary landscape of small traditional restaurants, where characters, culture and community are front and centre. This week: Ramen Chidori, in Tauranga.
A good bowl of ramen is so restorative. Broth nourishes weary bones, steam soothes a furrowed brow. If you're in Tauranga, the place to reanimate via noodle soup is Ramen Chidori. A basic bowlful costs just $11.50.
This unassuming Japanese eatery is a sanctum of sorts. A respite from the road cones, fashion grannies, and ultra-tanned Ubermenschen endemic to Tauranga. Step through the door and be greeted by an eager "irasshaimase!" The outside world obscures behind large stickers across the street-side window, and there's just the right amount of Japanese kitsch to make the place feel transportive instead of cluttered. Jolly Japanese pop music plays softly. There are bright paper kites, a framed poster of what I think is the torii gate of Miyajima, geisha dolls in glass cases, and noren (those cheerful flag-like panels often hanging inside Japanese restaurants).
On one wall, a trio of wooden signs read: "Keep it Simple", "Ideas for Life", and "Next is Ramen". I don't really understand what they mean. Maybe that ramen is a good idea for your next meal? If so, this is true. And it is simple, from a customer's perspective. As Chidori's owner, Essie Park, says, a bowl of ramen is cheaper, comes faster, is healthier, and tastes better than a Big Mac combo.
Authentic ramen is an elaborate dish to cook, however. Forty-eight-year-old Park swears by a good broth. One that's been simmered till it shimmers with fats extracted from either chicken or pork bones. It takes at least 12 hours. Braising rolled-up pork belly – called cashu – is another lengthy process. As is marinating eggs boiled to a just-right consistency. Park doesn't make wheat noodles on-site but buys them fresh from a Japanese specialty store. These firm, straight and slightly chewy noodles are a far cry from any crimped and flaccid interpretation slurped from a styrofoam cup.