Emma and Ken of Tsuru Sushi realised they couldn’t get decent ramen in London – with 3,957 registered ramen shops in Tokyo alone they didn’t think it’d be so difficult to start one up. To perfect their recipes they’ve been running a batch of ramen pop-up events at their sushi establishment before opening a dedicated ramen establishment. Judging by the quality of today’s food they are well on the way to getting things sorted and sussed.

The pop-up ramen events have been very good value. At £12.50 per head (including booking fee) you get a drink and ramen. And, I suspect unless you’ve spent a lot of time in Japan, I really don’t think you can be prepared for the ramen. But before I get onto that I’ll mention our little starters.

As we shuffled in from a fiercely cold London afternoon we were greated with a little bowl of well-salted edamame beans. These are normally pretty dull fare but the Editor and I scoffed through there in double-quick time and were so jollied by them we decided to order five pork gyoza as an additional starter.

These were brilliant little parcels of porky delight. The rice outer was a tad dry but the brilliance of the pork filling was indisputable. At £5.75 for five of these little wonders we felt we had done very well. The other meaty starter, free-range chicken kara-age, looked good on other people’s tables and we thought it worth trying next time if we could draw ourselves away from the brilliant gyoza.

Then came the ramen.

That picture should give you some idea that this was no rectangle of dried horribleness. My first mouthful was frankly astounding. The noodles themselves were rich and eggy, bursting with complex, flavours and possessing a really satisfying texture. Not, NOT Bachelor’s Super Noodles. These were served in the most animal-protein-charged broth I think I have ever tasted. To say it was rich and meaty is to woefully understate what was a profound and moving taste experience it provided. Freaking triple-A, man, freaking triple-A!

There was more than noodles and broth, though. Two thick slices of slow-cooked pig positively exploding with powerful flavours of quality pork. The fat and connective tissue when cooked in the right way for long enough is an absolute delight to eat and these were the pig’s posterior. Super brilliant meat. Eating this impressively sized bowl of concentrated pleasure left me stuffed and happy enough even to deal with the horror of being in London for what was, by that point, only going to be long enough to escape from it.

It was an excellent food experience. As I kept enthusiastically announcing to anyone who’d listen, nothing could have prepared me for coruscating brilliance of a new form of fast food. Everybody at the restaurant looked like they were having a great time and they bloody well should have been. There are a couple more of these ramen pop-ups planned that still have tickets available (see their blog I link to below) and you would be seriously missing out if you did not make efforts to attend. That it is cheap is merely a bonus, what matters is it was pant-pissingly brilliant.

Contact details:
Tsuru Sushi, Broadgate Plaza (off Primrose Street), London EC2M 3AB.
+44 (0)20 7377 1166
Tsuru Ramen Blog.
Tsuru Ramen Twitter feed.

The 2009 was provided by Peter Sidebotham of Hand-Picked Burgundy, pictured here, who is always a generous and charming dinner guest. He also provided a Rhys Family Farm Vineyard Pinot 2009 which I’ll briefly comment on after the Chambolles. Lovely to see you, Peter, and many thanks!

Chambolle-Musigny 2007, Domaine G. Roumier

This nose is the Platonic ideal of ‘lovely’ – if you wanted to sell the idea that Burgundy is scrummy to a neophyte you’d let them sniff this and they’d instantly be smitten. The fruit is absolutely charming and attractive: ripe and pretty with no hint of excess, over-ripeness or heaviness. Super-Chambolle fruit; just elegant and refined. The alcohol is in perfect balance and there’s no silliness with loads of new oak either. It’s just a nose of complete joy which is making me grin my new unforced, fundamentally jolly grin each time I stick my hooter in. The palate is not short of delight either. It’s silky smooth with refined tannins and a totally pretty fruitiness. I like its hint of creamy earthiness too and it has enough acidity to keep it balanced. Pretty long as well. Let’s not fart around, this is a deeply pleasurable wine to drink, it’s making us all happy and you could ask for little more from a village Chambolle. I think I’ve got more in my long-term cellar and I am breaking the bleeders out next time I visit – this is just tits now. Just goes to show that if you buy from the right people there is no reason to be sniffy about so called lesser vintages. My arse has been charmed off me.

Chambolle-Musigny 2009, Domaine G. Roumier

Editor Daniel and I were told this was Roumier Chambolle village with the instruction to spot the vintage – when I first smelled it I thought it was some much more powerful vineyard, the words Bonnes-Mares drifted through my mind. However, further sniffing and tasting showed it simply to be really ripe – we got the vintage right first guess. The fruit is very ripe indeed, almost fruit-cakey, and super-charged with a big whack of booze. Peter and I thought this could well be over 14%. There is something attractive, if more lubricious than winsome, about this nose, but at the moment it is just a bit of a belter; it’ll be better after a lot more time in the cellar. But there is nothing really wrong with it, though, it is just a big job. Some of us can manage lubricious big jobs with ease. There is complexity and minerality, and again no silliness with new oak, just one hell of a lot of very ripe fruit and quite a lot of booze. The palate shows this richness of fruit and alcohol very strongly. There’s no booze burn, but as I’m enthusiastically drinking it I feel a warm glow coming to my being. There is earthy complexity and about enough acidity, but the balance comes more from the fruit/tannin structure rather than Pinot’s more normal fruit/acid interplay. It’s quite tannic although the tannins are very, very ripe. I do like it, I just don’t think it is really showing hilariously well at the moment. This is a bit of an odd thing to say about a village wine, but I think this is one for serious cellar time and it’ll make intriguing old bones. Keep yours, I’ll keep mine a long time, and drink your bum-bitingly fun 2007s now.

Fascinating comparison. I loved the 2009s from cask but didn’t remember them being quite such wines of heroism. I feel part of this expression is simply a character of its developmental stage, though. I bet if I popped one of my 2009 Bonnes-Mares now I’d be wowed, powed and zapped. Finally:

Family Farm Vineyard Pinot Noir 2009, Rhys

The nose here is one of expensive Pinot Noir. It’s not heavy or dense, but round and well-upholstered. The alcohol is in good balance and there is some minerality to it, but it just seems a little on the… erm… plump side to totally charm me. I think it’s good, but I think it’s good from someone I’m not the biggest fan of. The palate is lovely and fruity, with reasonable earthiness and a good acidity that keeps it lively, but it is just a shade rich and I think it could do with being a tad more expressive of its complexity. I was presented this blind and I thought it was good Vosne-Romanee 1er Cru from a producer who doesn’t really tickle my fancy. Once all was revealed I could see why it was not Burgundy and I think I liked it more for being ‘not Burgundy’. It’s pretty damned expensive stuff over here in Blighty but if this is the kind of thing you like then this will be precisely the kind of thing you like. I think, as far as US Pinot goes, the Brooks Janus 2007 I had after recently did it for me more in the elegant and restrained style I like when I’m not feeling excessively lewd and obsessed with doing it with caliphyigian beauties.

Purely for the sake of whining, two of the other bottles we opened were corked: A Maximin Grunhaus Abtsberg Auslese 2001 and a Clusel-Roch Cote-Rotie 2001. I’m still severely vexed, I don’t mind telling you.

The other celebration passed a few days ago, the 10th anniversary of Editor Daniel moving into Elitistreview Towers to stop me doing bloody stupid things like the above. I spent a lot of that time too bloody minded to accept the help that was freely being offered and so still occasionally behaved like a fool, but Dani has kept me alive, cared for and happy in ways I don’t think either of us were really expecting. Thanks Dani, you’ve been carer-tastic and supreme-human-being-licious. You’ve also done sterling service removing the most horrifically offensive bits of my writing. Speaking of which…

Riesling Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spatlese 2001, Joh. Jos. Prum

A tightly-wound, intense nose with only hints of maturity. The fruit is ripe but incredibly fresh and vibrant – indeed the major impression from the nose is one of vivacity. The slate-minerality is pure and focussed and, whilst it is definitely linear and direct, it positively throbs with complexity. There are intellectual thrills on the nose and it is also simply gorgeous in a transparently desirable manner. Hell’s bells! What a lot going on on the palate! Where to start? It’s pant-pooingly acidic, that much is certain, and it’s tooth-fizzing, tonsil-scalding ferocity is wonderfully enhanced by a stunningly pure, forcefully intense minerality. Yeah, it hurts quite a lot, but it is improving pain. Actually this makes me begin to wonder if one day I might enjoy someone giving me a good seeing-to with a cane, but I’ll save that discussion for later. The fruit is perfectly ripe with a suggestion of being buxom, but such is the focussed purity of the acidity and minerality this seems perfectly in balance and even it’s impressive amount of sugar seems almost hidden. It’s harmony is sublime and it’s charged with life. I could think about this wine and analyse its brilliance for an age, but I’m more in the mood to throw myself into it’s electro-sex-ravishment experience and revel in an wine that may be able to ask deep existential questions but it equally happy to get its kit off and get down to the business. I have no doubt you could age this for incredible periods of time, but I have no regrets about popping and enjoying this bottle at this juncture.

As an aside, 2001 is a truly great, mind-bendingly brilliant vintage for M-S-R Riesling: I bloody love them. 2009 was a great vintage but they don’t quite have the nervy, high-voltage thrills of the 01s. I think, indeed I’m pretty sure, the 2010s do. This wine was such a success I think I may open one of my Erben-Thanisch Berncasteler-Doctor Auslese 2001s soon; that’ll be electric sex pants turned up to 11!

Over to NSJ:

Redwood Boysenberry Nip is sold in 750ml bottles in the Golden Bays area of South Island, New Zealand. It is sold as Boysenberry Brandy “like” at NZD$11.50 per bottle from the local supermarket here in Takaka, New Zealand. It has a very obvious and “arty” label announcing “12% Alc. Vol”.

The humble boysenberry started off as a genetic triumph out of Nottsberry Farm California – sweet huge, hardy and suited to the Pacific weather vagrancies, this berry above all the others continues to hold my attention (but never in an alcoholic way, I must admit). So I stopped to buy it and within 20 minutes as we started unpacking, I was gasping to see just how sensible my choice in afternoon tipple was.

Colour – light Cranberry juice… and very easy to see all the way to the bottom of our tea-stained camping mugs. It lacks the thick inky purple berry colour you get from the berry itself (I should not have been able to see the bottom of my mug) making it seem more like a RTD (ready to drink) party drink.

It has no nose.

Maybe that ought to serve as warning to let the exploring drinker know that something sweet and confected awaits.

I did mention a cautionary note of sweetness, one that is carefully hidden by a sharp citrus ambush of “Acidity Regulator 330″. Made less obvious by being chilled. Quite why you would need so much acid to cover the sweetness of a very, very sweet berry is beyond me. But it slipped down a treat and left me coveting the bottle.

I found this local Boysenberry Nip lacking character right across the board at all levels.

It is sold as “suitable for cooking” amongst other things. Indeed, I would add it to a trifle – or even donate it to an underage “bring-a-bottle” pool party.

It will not keep for any significant period (but some useful advice on the bottle is to keep it refrigerated until all is used up).

Time from purchase to opening the screw-cap bottle was 20 mins.

Time until bottle finished between 2 of us was 30 mins.

This beverage lasted less than 50 mins from point of purchase.

Sweet, sunny afternoon tipple. Serve chilled. Don’t expect much in terms if complexity – just sweetness.

Alas, I won’t be buying any further bottles.

Over to James:

I felt more fireworks at the (Haynes, Hanson and Clark) tasting on Monday but there can be doubt that it confirmed the excellence of the vintage – even though a number of the samples were shaken up and not tasting well. I got there a little late and didn’t attempt to taste the full range. I also took a degree of the day’s frustrations with me – not helped by the £25 entry fee! By the time I got there (about half way through the advertised time slot) many bottles were finished (most top reds – whether because they were good or otherwise). I think next time I will go back to front.

Whites

Barraud whites showed well. Macon had weight but plenty of acid – the 2 Pouilly-Fuisses both delicious – the Alliance is a lighter, racier style, the La Roche a bigger, broader wine but still with good focus. I liked all of these very much.

Fevre alongside Droin very interesting – when young like this the absence of wood really pushes me to join team Fevre as they seem to have so much more definition and purity. The Fevre wines really sing with citric fruit and the vintage gives them a directness that appeals enormously to me as a lover of the more linear white wine. But is their Clos really twice as good as Christian Moreau’s (it is almost twice the price)? The Fevre Vaillons is fabulously good – but over 20 sheets a pop. I think I will shut my eyes and pay for Vaillons.

In the Cote d’Or whites, the Fontaine-Gagnard (I’d wanted to try these for a while) tasted much better than Chavy etc, but nothing to my mind got anywhere near the excitement and energy of the Lambrays Clos du Cailleret or the Olivier Leflaive Domaine wines – although what was on show was a lower end of the spectrum than the mainly Grand Crus (Thierry Brouin said he considered the Clos du Cailleret a Grand Cru anyway – or perhaps this links to his pricing!).

Reds

Very pretty Bourgogne from Hudelot-Noellat. This was very light but all their wines were super elegant with nice texture (Vosne villages, Suchots and Clos Vougeot all respected the hierarchy – although the latter as so many Clos Vougeot wines didn’t really seem a Grand Ccru). They may be into whole cluster fermentation as all were very pale? Expressive wines though – a very attractive range.

I was keen to try the Comte Armand wines. Auxey 1er Cru was as delicious as expected and well structured. Really stylish. Clos des Epeneaux was all necked by others by the time I got there. Am sure it is fantastic. Given the brilliance of all the wines I’ve tried from this address since the mid 90s, am tempted to splash out for it on trust even though it isn’t cheap…

De Courcel Pommards were both superb – as I understand they were last year. Great, very ripe dark fruit, but real energy and depth – the Rugiens had an amazingly silky texture and suppleness. Best wines on show for me by a distance.

All Gouges samples were too sulphury and shaken up for me. I found them very hard to taste.

Only Arlot red on show/not all drunk was the Bourgogne Chapeau – good for the money, much more serious than the Hudelot-Noellat Bourgogne.

Bruno Clavelier’s wines showed very well. His wines have a lot of oak influence at this stage and exotic coffee/chocolate flavours but the fruit and balance seemed terrific and from memory his prices are still not too scary. Very stylish.

Fourrier wines clearly very good this year as ever- most of these had been slurped dry – even given not all of them were great samples. Seems a year for his style.

Frederic Esmonin wines I liked a lot. They are not up there with the very best but they are well made, pretty transparent and I commend his very reasonable pricing!

Enjoyed another chance to try Nuits-Saint-Georges 1er Cru Chaignots from Mugneret-Gibourg vs. Mugnier’s Nuits 1er Cru Clos de la Marechale. The former is a richer, fuller wine but still with great style and silky texture. But the Marechale is so delicious too.

The new Pousse d’Or wines I found overworked. For Volnay there was also some quite bold extraction. I would need to be persuaded that these deserve my money if not my attention.

I really wanted to try the Benjamin Leroux wines. The only one I got to was a Gevrey 1er cru and it was quite a peaky, sulphury sample. Let’s be honest – I would like to have liked it more. I blame the sample.

I didn’t retry the Thomas Bouley wines but Jeremy Seysses says he has heard good things about him and OW Loeb are very positive indeed. Maybe that was a sample problem on Monday.

The quality of the village level wines in general was striking. They consistently had good ripeness and concentration. There is still reward for trading up but what pleasure to be had at the lower end!

Howard Ripley’s website is here.
Many thanks James, I am sorry I wasn’t there with you!