I arrived in New York yesterday as afternoon turned to evening. It had been one of those long travel days. Up at 4 a.m., to Oakland International Airport for a 7:30 a.m. Jet Blue flight, then a 90-minute delay at the gate, with no air conditioning, which got old fast.
I brought lunch, and water ... but ... by the time the flight arrived at JFK it was closer to 6 p.m. than 4 and I was famished and in need of food and drink.
I caught up with my colleague Harvey Steiman for a casual dinner. We went to a small, loud, crowded Asian noodle bar called Momofuku (which translates into "lucky peach"). It’s best to say this a few times under your breath before saying it out loud, lest someone misunderstand ...
It’s a "first come, first served" restaurant on 1st Avenue with a cluster of people waiting to get in. We put our name on the list and walked next door to an enoteca. There we sat outside at a sidewalk setting, enjoying the warm summer night and relaxing with a chilled bottle of prosecco, which was crisp and refreshing.
Journalists like to hold on to their pens and pads but I didn’t take notes. Not on the prosecco, nor the saké, a Daiginjo, nor the Hitachino red rice ale, the latter two drinks being new experiences for me.
Momofuku is tiny and tight, as crowded as the plane (and at some points even tighter). The menu is petite, the dishes are spicy, with a barbecue edge to some entrées we tried. We enjoyed steamed pork and mushroom buns, fried veal sweetbreads, octopus salad, sliced hamachi and two noodle dishes, pork neck ramen and the Momofuku ramen.
Wine angle? None, and no wine on the menu.
A wine night off.
Jason Thompson — Foster City, CA — October 8, 2007 9:41pm ET
Anacleto Ludovic — paris france — October 9, 2007 12:34pm ET
Zachary Ross — Brooklyn, NY — October 9, 2007 1:43pm ET
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