Udon, and similarly, ramen, usually remind me of dried packets of nothing-natural mixed with suspicious (but delicious) bricks of dried noodles. They were a dollar a package and the highlight of the afterschool period (that or Cheez Its). I admit. I ate them raw sometimes.
This was my definition of udon until... ahem.. recently. Udon may be described as the stepchild to soba's firstborn status.
However today, on the heels of a gnarly cold, the bowl of warm salty broth, perfectly firm noodles, and ridiculously healthy seaweed was my one true love. I suppressed the childlike urge to draw on the steamed window. Smiled at the perfectly ascending paper napkins on the counter. Slurped up the spicy broth like the Japanese dudes next to me. Vowed that next time my technique would be at least as graceful as that of my dining partner, and that the next time would be soon.
Montant à payer:
Udon bowls: 8 euro - 15 euro. From the looks of things the tempura is also a crowd pleaser.
If Udon't know, now you know:
Kunitoraya
Tel. : 01 47 03 33 65
39 rue Sainte-Anne 75001 Paris
Métro : Pyramides ou Opéra
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