East And Drinks

Sogo NY

337 W. Broadway (Grand St.)

212-966-2113

Minca

536 E. 5th st. (betw. Aves. A & B)

212-505-8001

Atsushi is a former Japanese anchorman currently researching national-security issues at the city's East Asian Institute. What with North Korea and China and all, his countrymen have a lot to worry about, but he's just spent a relaxing day at a golf driving range in New Jersey. Tonight he is the only Japanese dining at Sogo NY, a year-old Japanese fusion restaurant, and he isn't liking the marinated yellowtail all that much.

"A little bit better warm heated. And this syrup is a little bit too sweet for us Japanese," he says, referring to the wasabi soy sauce. Of course, when a refined Japanese person says something is "a little bit" they mean "absolutely." Courtesy dictates a softening of the hard facts of life and food.

With us is Danny Grinberg, who uses the moniker Lonesome Hero on his dining blog, Year in Food. He's not afraid to be snarky, and though he wasn't wowed by the bbq yellowtail with wasabi ("bland") or the honey nut roll ("all you really end up tasting is avocado"), he loved chef Lam's tuna tortilla pizza ($12). Atsushi liked it, too, even though Japanese people tend not to like the fusion stuff.

"First time to have tuna with tortilla. Good idea I think," Atsushi ventured. "I actually really like it-the tuna is smooth and neutral, and the creamy orange ponzu sauce is standing in for the cheese. Nice interplay, different flavor. It's memorable!"

Our favorite roll was the spicy dynamite roll, a busy combination of tuna, salmon and yellowtail, topped with eel, crabmeat, tempura flakes and a spicy cream sauce that actually worked ($15). Quentin Crisp once said that a star is someone you couldn't have thought of if you stayed up all night, and this was kind of like that.

When we left, I realized that we'd forgotten to tip, despite consuming $100 of food, including a two tiered sushi-sashimi combination and a bit of sake. In that respect, we were acting typically Japanese.

"Tips are a form of bribery!" I once heard a Japanese businessman say. The next night, I asked my friend Kensuke what he thinks about American tipping as we slurped up ramen at Minca in Alphabet City.

"The system is like this," Ken said, sharing what he'd learned.

"The wait folks do not get paid by the owners, they have to get money from customers. When I heard this I said, 'What do you mean, you don't get paid enough, why did you take the job?!' But now I accept paying for a tip. I still have trouble calculating what is appropriate, especially taxis. The fare is $6.50, and I give him $10. Is it enough? And I hear to give them coins is insulting. Sometimes it's a pain in the ass."

We started off with some homemade gyoza ($4.50), a highly refined version of the pot sticker that I'd been missing sorely. Since it was early, they still had the Number 6 Special ($11.50): toroniku ramen, slow-cooking stewed pork with soft cabbage on top. Number 6 is usually sold out later at night, forcing Ken to try the Number 7, charshu ramen, which he also likes.

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the toroniku ramen, which has been perfected by owner Shigeto Kamata and drilled into his Nepalese kitchen staff. It was amazing. For eight months, Kamata rented out the kitchen of Zen, on St. Marks Place, from midnight to 4 a.m., working on preparation and the perfect taste before opening Minca.

In Tokyo, Ken explained, they have a ramen shop on every corner; it's where you go after you spend all night drinking, and if your soup isn't distinctive, you're in trouble.

"This is very high-level," Ken says. "In my opinion, they could bring this to Tokyo. I know some other ramen shops in New York, but they're bad!

"I remember the first time [I had ramen in New York]. It was in midtown, at Menkai-tei, and I couldn't finish it. To me, it was kind of stunning. Surprisingly, I hear Japanese people say it's good. It's because they don't have any other choice, so they get used to it. Now I'm getting used to it, and it's scary."

Pork-based soup comes from Kyushu, in Southern Japan, a foodie capital where Ken grew up.

"They have much varieties of dish, you can get anything you want, and usually it's in good shape."

Listening to tales of Kyushu, I got jazzed up on about five cups of barley tea, and remembered to tip this time.