Fake a fancy ramen for lunch

I got really excited about all the over priced, hipster noodle shops that opened up in Denver and NoCo a few years ago, and I was always disappointed. Even in L.A.'s Little Tokyo, the homemade ramen is hardly any different from a decent package at the store (whatever, I'm cool with Maruchan too). Now I just make it at home and eat it in my pajamas without having a 20-something get in my face and loudly explain the "concept" of their restaurant. Here we go...

Fancy-assed Ramen at Home

Serves 2 in giant bowls

1 teaspoon peanut oil

5-6 scallions, cut into 1-inch pieces

1 packages instant ramen (get a shrimp or chili flavor)

2 cups broccoli florets

1 teaspoon white vinegar

4 oz. (leftover) cooked meat of your choice (I like pulled pork or seared steak, but shrimp's nice too)

2 tablespoons soy sauce

2 scant tablespoons brown sugar

2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil

1 teaspoon chili sauce like Sambal olek (optional)

handful fresh cilantro, chopped

In a large saucepan, heat the peanut oil on "high" and quickly stir-fry the scallions until you have some blackened bits on them.  Remove them from the pot and set on a plate or something. 

Add 5 cups of water to the pot and bring to a boil.  Cook the ramen with the seasoning packet until almost done (stir in some cayenne if you want), then add the broccoli for the last two minutes of cooking. When broccoli is crisp-tender, remove from heat and stir in the vinegar. 

Meanwhile, combine the sot sauce, brown sugar, sesame oil, and chili sauce in a small bowl. Add the cooked meat and stir to saturate.  Divide the meat / sauce mixture evenly between two large soup bowls.  Ladle the ramen soup into each bowl over the meat, then garnish with cilantro and the seared scallions. Eat immediately with loud slurping noises. 

A serving of superiority makes the ramen so much better...

I have wanted to eat at Uncle in Denver since they opened. I mean, just look at this beautiful photo of their work that welcomes you upon visiting their website:

I know, right?!  And you know I loves me some ramen. So, I finally went last week on Thanksgiving Eve (after a delicious stop at Station 26 Brewing in the Park Hill neighborhood.  You should go). Here's how that went down:

Uncle does not take reservations.  They state it plainly on their website, so I'm not saying I wasn't warned.  I figured at 5:30pm, practically senior citizen dinner hour, it would be slow, but when we got there, the waiting area was ass-deep in hungry hipsters.  Contributing to the seating issue was the fact that it's very tiny, hot, and loud in the restaurant. Well, it contributed to my issues, anyway.

But it's OK, because Highland Tap & Burger is right next door, and that place is huge. So I gave the hostess my digits (is that so totally dated lingo?) and went next door to drink. That place is good, so I'm going to fill you in on that in another post.

We were told the wait would be 25 minutes. Fine. I was a quarter of the way through my Moscow mule at HT&B when I got a very excited text AND voicemail telling me a table was ready and I had 8 minutes to return and claim it.  I wimpered a little and slammed my very strong drink (OK, I got some help with it) and, lightheaded, stumbled next door.

There was no table ready, and we ended up sitting for the remainder of our originally promised 25-minute wait crammed into a tiny space with said hungry hipsters.  I mean, they were clean, but I still would have preferred to be back in the dark, cozy-yet-spacious bar where that huge copper cup of vodka had gone unloved (consumed, but underappreciated, anyway).  Shame,  I think it tasted good, but it went by too fast to tell.

Our "table" was two awkwardly high stools at the bar, where we got to watch the cooks put together the food.  It was kind of cool to watch what they were doing, but it was also the hottest, most humid, and  noisiest part of the little space being called a restaurant.  And I kept kicking over my purse at my feet, which sucked. Disclaimer: I was buzzed, and I am short, so maybe this wouldn't be a problem for everyone. Maybe just don't carry a purse to Uncle if you go.

Our view from the bar.

So, for the food and service: our waiter was a douchebag extraordinaire, complete with "kindly brontosaurus" posture (I'm on to you, dude!), patronizing voice, and that age-old question: "Alright, have you visited us here at Uncle before?"  Here's why I hate that question:

• I'm not visiting you like you're my aunt I haven't seen in a while.  I am exchanging money for a service. You are a business.
• No, I have not been here before, but your menu is very easy to understand and there isn't much on it, so I think I'll be OK.
• I am not a moron, so please stand upright and stop using your sing-songy voice. 

Now, I have been treated to special free things for being a virgin before, and if that had happened, it would have negated all of my above complaints. But as I suspected, Uncle does not play that game. 

Our waiter also asked if we wanted any drinks to start (their drink menu is actually pretty pedestrian, and how many of these dishes could possibly go with red wine?!). I told him his neighbors had already gotten our drink money, and he rolled his eyes.  OK, it was lame, but I'm still proud of that one, so there you go. 

But you know what?  I'm in a hipster neighborhood in Denver, which is almost akin to Seattle these days with the skinny jeans, bow ties, and nerd glasses, so I merely rolled my eyes back and got ready to dig in to the menu.  The carefully crafted broths, homemade ramen noodles, and steamed buns would be worth the mild irritation.  

We ordered pork belly steamed buns, which comes two to an order.  They look like this: 

It's a slab of fried pork belly with sliced cucumber and scallions and dressed with hoisin sauce.  The bread was really soft and puffy, so that was nice.  The pork had nice flavor and tenderness, but it didn't seem seasoned at all.  It desperately needed some salt at the very least.  Black pepper also would have been nice. And the hoisin sauce was all at the bottom of the bun, so the pork itself was naked, and at the end I got a mouthful of sauce on what was left of the bun. Except for the part that just drizzled onto the plate.  That was my pork belly steamed bun.  $7. Boo. 

Then we got bowls of ramen. I was excited about the kimchi bowl with shredded pork, matchsticks of daikon radish, and a soft egg.  My dinner companion got the spicy chicken, which boasted a creamy sesame broth, bean sprouts, scallion, and a soft egg (that's it to the left).  I was skeptical of the creaminess, but it was actually delicious.  The broth was earthy, bright, and had a present umami flavor.  I don't know what was in it (miso? tahini?), but it was delicious and really unique.  My broth was just spicy with heavy vinegar and salt present.  I guess that describes kimchi, too, but when I make a kimchi stew at home, I make sure there's something else going on in the broth besides that.  I mean, kimchi is a condiment, right?  So it can be over-the-top strong as long as there's something else to balance it.  This was not the case with Uncle's kimchi broth.

The vegetables were nicely cut and laying on top of the bowls; not much to say there.  The eggs were very nicely cooked and, when broken, really added some pleasant richness to the broths.  And the noodles were quite good.  Super chewy and stretchy, they were really satisfying to eat, and the enormous bowls we were served had generous amounts of them in each.  But in the end, it's about the broth for me.  I mean, yes, the noodles too, because they are homemade (though Uncle claims no credit for making them in print, which leads me to believe that they are coming from somewhere else). So, then there's the broth, which provides all the flavor, and is also the main ingredient by volume and weight, in the bowl.  The spicy chicken was worth trying, but the kimchi was not.  And for $14/bowl, you might be just as happy trying similar-looking recipes from The Food Lab or Just One Cookbook.

My age might just be showing, because I found the crowded, noisy quarters slightly uncomfortable, the wait and corresponding, overly controlling texts annoying, and the extreme sense of pride Uncle seems to have in its soup and unseasoned pork a little comical.  So, go ahead and squeeze into your tightest olive green skinny cords and flannel shirt, polish up those enormous 80s-style plastic frames, and give it a try.  But be prepared for the slightly empty feeling you have in heart afterwards.

I wanted to go to Asia but all I got was some peas...

My friends recently toured Southeast Asia and posted some great photos of delicious-looking food and fun times every step of the way.  Around the same time, I started noticing all the newly available fresh produce at my local hippy-dippy natural food store, and the beautiful sugar snap peas, combined with my mild jealousy towards my friends eating their hearts out in Singapore, yielded this recipe. You can make a lot of substitutions here--change the noodles, the veggies, the fresh herbs, trade the tofu for meat (the marinade works just as well).  But don't skip the mayonnaise, which I know sounds insane, but it is oh-so-good.  If you do and I find out, I will physically fight you.

Creamy Asian Noodle Bowl

Serves 4


½ block extra firm tofu
Tofu marinade:
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 teaspoons Sriracha sauce
1 teaspoon lime juice
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
½ teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Peanut oil for frying
2 packages instant ramen noodles
8 dried shitake mushrooms, broken into small pieces
6 dried Thai red chili peppers, whole
¼ red onion, finely diced
1 garlic clove, minced
1 pound sugar snap peas, trimmed and cut into ½-inch pieces on the bias
1 small red pepper, cut into similar-sized pieces
¼ cup mayonnaise
1/8 cup rice vinegar
¼ teaspoon fish sauce
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Prepare ahead: press the tofu until most water is release, about 30 minutes.  Combine all marinade ingredients in a small container.  Cut the pressed tofu into bite-sized pieces and place in the marinade, shaking or stirring gently to coat evenly.  You can leave this on the counter and occasionally stir it while you chop your vegetables and cook.

In a medium saucepan, heat enough water to cook the noodles along with one of the ramen seasoning packets (I always get “Oriental Flavor”).  When the water comes to a boil, throw in the mushrooms and noodles and cook until done.  While you are doing this, steam the sugar snap peas and bell pepper; this can be done in a steamer above the cooking noodle if you have one, or in a separate pot if you don’t.

Meanwhile, heat about 2 teaspoons of peanut oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Sauté the dried peppers, onion, and garlic until soft and fragrant.  Scrape into a small bowl and wipe excess oil off the side of the pan.  Return pan to medium-high heat, add 2 tablespoons of peanut oil, and when it smokes, add the marinated tofu.  (Keep any excess marinade for the end.) The liquid from the marinade will cause a lot of spitting, so I remove the pan from the heat in order to do this, then put it back on the burner.  Cook tofu until browned on each side, flipping once in the middle.

When the tofu is golden on both sides, lower heat to medium low.  Stir in the steamed vegetables, cooked noodles with mushrooms, and any remaining marinade form the tofu.  In the small bowl with the onions and garlic, add the mayonnaise, vinegar, fish sauce, and cilantro.  Stir to combine, then stir into the noodle mixture in the pan.  Heat through and serve with fresh lime wedges and Ponzu sauce.

My favorite leftover tricks: things with pancakes

Anything savory in your leftover pile works well with bread and eggs--sandwiches, quiches (large or small), or just a pile of scrambled eggs make good vehicles for meat and vegetables.  Soups are a common standby (and those mashed sweet potatoes would make a great thickener for a broth), and chopped meat and veggies can easily go into a lasagne or be stir fried with some leftover rice or tossed with vermicelli or ramen. But nothing says "leftover fun" like Korean drunk food.  Pa Jun is an eggy pancake usually filled with green onions and gobbled up late at night to soak up the alcohol poisoning that might otherwise ensue after a wild night of karaoke.  It's also comforting, simple to make, and breathes new life into your leftover holiday meal.  

Pa Jun (Korean pancake) with leftovers

Serves 4 with a side salad

2 cups flour
2 eggs, beaten
1.5 cups water
1 cup diced leftover meat and vegetables
1 tsp salt
Oil for cooking

Mix all ingredients together and let sit for about 10 minutes. Check consistency before cooking – batter should be a little bit runnier than American pancake batter, so that the Pa Jun cooks quickly and evenly.

Heat a saute pan over medium heat and coat with a thin layer of oil. Pour batter to fill pan in a thin layer (about 1/3 of your batter should fill a regular saute pan). Cook for 3-4 minutes until set and golden brown on bottom. Turn over with help of spatula or plate (or flip it in the air if you are good at that) and finish by cooking 1-2 more minutes, adding more oil if necessary.

Serve with soy sauce and Sriracha on the side.  

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Crepes are an equally logical vehicle for your leftovers--be sure to stir in some sauce or gravy if you have it, and combine whatever leftovers you like together.  Those green beans with gorgonzola and bacon would be surprisingly good with a touch of cranberry sauce, by the way--get creative.  Crack open a work  beer to inspire you in the kitchen. If you make the crepes with chick pea flour, they'll have a pleasant, nutty taste and pack an extra protein punch.

Basic crepes

Serves 4

1.5 cup flours in any combination: chicke pea, whole wheat, unbleached white...

2/3 cup water

1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt

Combine all ingredients, adjusting flour content to produce a runny batter that will create a thin crepe.  Cook over medium heat in a large hot skillet that has been liberally prepared with cooking spray until golden on each side.  Each crepe should fill the skillet, yielding a total of four. 

Meanwhile, gently heat leftover filling(s) in the microwave or in a saucepan over medium-low heat: plan on 1 to 1.5 cups of filling per crepe.  To assemble, lay one crepe on a plate, spoon one fourth of the filling in a line slightly to one side of the center of the crepe, and roll.  

Some crepe fillings from our leftover menu:

Green beans with bacon and gorgonzola + cranberry sauce
Thai mashed sweet potatoes + roast meat (+ cranberry sauce)
Roasted vegetables with or without roast meat

Ramen deserves some repec'

I love the hyperlink in this blog post's title; I have always loved ramen, and now I can hold my head high when I say that (or at least at medium height).  It's fast and cheap, yes, but ramen also has a light, airy texture when cooked, and there is a distinct wheat-y flavor you just don't quite get in other pastas.  I often turn to ramen when I am impatient and have the munchies late at night, but I dress them up just a bit...

Chamomile Poached Noodles

Oh yeah, those noodles I’m talkin’ ‘bout are ramen!  You can use soba or udon, but the delicacy and prominent wheat flavor of ramen really compliment and carry the chamomile, which is not really that strong to begin with.  Not a fan of chamomile?  Try the same amount of jasmine tea; it’s a bit subtler, but also nice.


Serves 2 as a side

1 package ramen noodles
3 tea bags or 1 heaping tablespoon loose chamomile flowers/ tea
1 teaspoon lime juice
Salt and black pepper to taste

Fill a small saucepan 2/3 full with water and the tea bags or loose chamomile flowers.  Cover and bring to a boil.

When water is at a rolling boil, remove chamomile flowers with a skimmer (tea bags can stay) and replace with ramen noodles.  Cook until tender, drain all but about 2 tablespoons of the cooking liquid, stir in lime juice and season with salt and pepper to taste.

To make this a heartier snack or side, place frozen, shelled edamame in the water for about the last 45 seconds of the noodles’ cooking time.  OR, stir in fresh chopped scallions to the finished product.




Psst...Ramen is also what I use in my Hot and Sour Sickie Soup!