Which is why today for lunch I had to partake. I'd been looking forward to ramen allllllllll weekend. I don't work far from Miso Sweet, which I was going to start affectionately terming, "Miso" for short (because I'm annoying), so I was even fantasizing those paychecks away. I read the menu last night. 12 dollars for a bowl of soup? Bring it, miso. Miso GAME.
Miso excited. Miso loves it.
Except I didn't. I had such high hopes. That were quickly dashed. The storefront is adorable. The hostess perky. She shouts at you as you walk in the door, bleary eyed from legal work and ready to slurp. "HELLO! Welcome! Will you be dining in or out today!!!!!!"
"Ahm, hi...in, please!" I try to sound excited but not overly so. I didn't want to come off as trying too hard. I mean, maybe my knees were knocking together in excitement anticipating nectar of the pork gods. But I can't show her that! Need to come off as cool. Cool as a cucumber in the epic ness I'm about to eat.
"OKAY! AWESOME! JUST HAVE A SEAT ANYWHERE AND WE'LL BE RIGHT WITH YOU!!!!!!!!"
She was definitely a cheerleader in high school. The charm is not lost on me. This will be the place for me; I just found my new everyday lunch spot. I'll write here. I'll read here. I'll JK Rowling it up on napkins. This. This is IT. They'll say "That's where she wrote it! At Miso Sweet!" And twelve dollars? Who cares! I'll moonlight as maybe an actual writer during the night, draft letters during the ol nine to fiver, and eat ramen every damn day. I don't have to try Momofuku now. THIS will be my Momofuku. This will be my David Chang. This will be my everything.
Everything is overrated. The service is good. They're eager and at the same time understated. My server didn't bug the hell out of me while I slurped and pretended I could use chopsticks. Which one can definitely appreciate. I love me some discreet waiters.
But I didn't love me some soup. It was those instant noodles. You know the ones. 18 cents a pack. Now boil up some pork. And tear it apart with a plastic fork. And get some sloppy fat in there. Now throw in a nori sheet along the side. And an almost completely boiled egg with a brown egg white (?!?!) and hard orange yolk. Dipped in sodium. Now pour in some lackluster broth over everything, which cooks the noodles to death. Sprinkle some weak bean sprouts. Chop up a scallion.
The bamboo shoots were good. At least there's that. And the MexiCoke, which I was super psyched about because of the natural cane sugar. And it's in glass. That's cool. I love drinking caffeinated sugar out of a thick rim. But it's like 4 bucks a bottle. Which pushes the meal to almost 20 bucks, whiiiiiiiich.
Isn't worth another go. I was too broke to try a donut.
Don't get me wrong. It's a tough market. Downtown mall realty is precious. That shit ain't cheap. But for SUCH a good location, and SUCH a promising concept, couldn't they spring for actual noodles? Can't they slow roast a flavorful pork butt? You could throw a rock and hit 6 pig farms in this town. I practically run over Wilbur on the way home from work. Subpar pork is all they got? And can't they perfect that broth? Is that too much to ask? I know it's not Momofuku but damn. It's hardly momo-anything. And it definitely isn't sweet. Sad face.
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