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Jun 03, 2023

Noodle in a Haystack: Ramen

Virginia Miller Follow The Bold Italic -- Listen Share When international fellow dining judge friends are asking me about tiny Noodle In A Haystack in my city of San Francisco, I pay attention. I was

Virginia Miller

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When international fellow dining judge friends are asking me about tiny Noodle In A Haystack in my city of San Francisco, I pay attention.

I was already curious but skeptical about the pricey ($185 extended menu, $130 weeknight menu) cult ramen pop-up, opened by husband-wife duo Yoko and Clint Tan in spring 2022 as their first brick-and-mortar. It looks abandoned: an unmarked corner space with covered-up windows and a 10-seat counter in the Inner Richmond, next to an Eastern European grocer and longtimer My Tofu House vegetarian Korean hole-in-the-wall.

The space is humble, clean, spare — and the experience? Wow. And from self-taught chefs in a kitchen with nothing more than tabletop ovens and induction burners, no less. I went in with reigned-in expectations and came out feeling as if I’d just dined at a friends’ home in Japan — in fact, this is the size of dinners they held in their Daly City home. We engaged and conversed with the Tans constantly over the meal and with our lovely, gracious server as she poured sakes, impressed with the Tans’ insatiable drive to perfect recipes and particular vision of a menu centered around and inspired by ramen, though there is just one actual ramen course.

These raves come from someone who, besides eating at hundreds of hole-in-the-walls annually, also hits a couple hundred fine dining restaurants every year around the globe. As a longtime restaurant critic/food writer and the West North America Chairperson for The World’s 50 Best Restaurants, upscale dining is something that comes often with my role. Just as I did in Spain last month for the 50 Best awards (“front row” awards ceremony videos here), I dined at over 10 Michelin-starred restaurants in one week alone. This is typical year round as I travel half of most months and hit all the wealth of tasting menus in my SF home, too.

So being “wowed” by a tasting menu at the over 13,000 restaurants I’ve been privileged to dine at these two decades doesn’t happen every day, though I love thousands for many reasons. It may sound cliche, but in all sincerity: Noodle In A Haystack is different. Certainly, many of the best meals I’ve had globally have been at a tiny chef’s counter. But the unique spirit, dishes and format, coupled with the Tans’ complete lack of industry experience and their familial hospitality, puts it in a class by itself.

Their relaxed approach is very American, but their hospitality is inspired by the country with the most impeccable service in the world: Japan, which is Yoko’s home and where Clint lived for years before they came back near his parents and roots in the SF Bay Area. Their impressive story moves from missing Tokyo’s perfected food, to trying to create that level here from their own exhaustive study and pop-up dinners since 2015. After careers in finance, they fully crowdfunded their restaurant via Kickstarter. An American dream story, indeed.

On a recent Friday, we chose the Friday-only sake extended menu at $280 per person. It hurt to pay that much ahead of time on an unknown commodity, but as sake fanatics for over 20 years (I’m also a longtime drink writer and global judge, so drink is equally important with food), my partner Dan (“The Renaissance Man”) and I agreed we might as well go “whole hog” if we were doing this. We were curious how rare and special the sake pours were, as stated on Tock where you buy tickets, which sell out immediately.

First bite? A double-baked, steamed brown butter financier, topped with garlic shoyu crème fraîche that Clint smoked, a chive flower and Tsar Nicoulai Golden Reserve Caviar, which I’ve loved at Tsar Nicoulai’s Ferry Building caviar cafe, its buttery brininess singing with the smoke and pastry. Clint says perfecting this financier was Yoko’s “pandemic hobby.” As we progressed through her baked goods, it’s clear this Tokyo native’s “hobby” is expert-level good. It was paired with our favorite sake all night: Kaze no Mori Alpha Type 3, a rarity from a Nara producer I already loved for their Wind of the Woods sake. “Gently” pasteurized, this vibrant, fresh sake has an almost effervescent quality and ripe pear sweetness, but finishes dry.

Next was cold-smoked, salt-cured Japanese otoro (tuna belly), silky and lively in a 50/50 sauce of cold-pressed African green chile peppers and olive oil with a touch of oyster shoyu and yuzu ponzu sauces. A pairing of Nanbu Bijin Daiginjo sake enhances the dish with mineral umami.

After these nuanced but clean flavors, we moved into fatty comfort with their “souped up” chawanmushi, a savory Japanese egg custard. Loaded with New Caledonian blue prawns, Hokkaido uni (sea urchin) and hotate (scallops), it certainly is souped up. As with other courses, it’s thoughtful sauces that take it “next level.” Shio tare (“salt seasoning”), a simple solution of lemon, salt and dried kelp typical in ramen in Japan, is elevated here with dried scallops, prawn heads and fish parts, a sort of Chinese XO sauce in lush roasted prawn oil. It’s all accented with ginger and mitsuba (Japanese wild parsley). Emishiki Junmai Ginjo “World Peace” sake has a bold, fruity, velvety body that holds up with this unctuous custard.

A palate-cleansing tomato dashi salad of mizuna leaves, skinned sungold tomatoes, dashi geleé, roasted scallion oil and tomato soap foam gets yet another “meta dressing,” Clint quips: a house carrot, onion, sweet pepper “vejigrette” dressing with their own cute puppy label on the bottle. The dish is bright, acidic yet earthy, grounded by that scallion oil.

I’ve been a bit nonplussed with Brooklyn Kura sakes I’ve had in NYC at restaurants like Rosella. But the pairing of Brooklyn Kura Junmai Namachozo Occidental Dry Hopped pink sake with the tomatoes and the following hefty course was intriguing, not only for the sake’s strawberry qualities (reminding me of strawberry yeast sakes), but for its grapefruit and Citra Hops notes. While the IPA hops approach was intentional, the pink color was not in this experimental sake, where the palate surprisingly hits with peach blossom and rose petal notes.

We were enjoying ourselves, for sure. But the course that came next took us higher. “Japanese Curry & Agepan” was A5 Wagyu striploin with a deep fried milkbread ‘donut’ in Japanese curry. Think your dream katsu sandwich flavors and the ultimate Japanese curry with the silkiest (and priciest) beef in the world: A5, complete with certificate from Japan.

We chatted with Clint as he took the raw sous vide A5 wagyu out of its marination bag, torching it delicately until medium-rare. You guessed it: a marinade of olives, wagyu fat and sansho pepper gave it further depth. Then, Yoko’s giant croquette, a modified milk bread in Japanese cereal crust she has been perfecting for some time. It shows. This divine doughnut is worth going back for alone. With A5 and a twist on Japanese curry they make for their kids — a Oaxacan mole-esque wonder of dark chocolate, peaches, coffee and more — this course wows as it comforts, as if my own mother made it. If she made Japanese curry. Sopping it all up, Dan and I looked at each other with a “Can you believe it?” signal, wordlessly acknowledging we just tasted what could be an iconic dish for any chef.

“Basic” sides of traditional tsukemono to cleanse the palate — pickled cucumber and daikon radishes — are no throwaway. In pristine peanut oil, even the cucumber excels.

How about the ramen, the core that inspired this whole thing? The Tans told us they’d hoped to open a more casual shop, but small business costs and red tape keep them from it, as even a pricey tasting menu still doesn’t cover the costs of staying open. This should never be. They’re making ramen akin with the best I’ve had in Japan. In fact, in 2017, the Tans were finalists in the Ramen Grand Prix in Osaka, confirming their move towards opening their own place.

San Francisco benefits from this impeccable ramen that shows what ramen can be at Japan level, not the often over-salted mishmash of flavors even many celebrated ramen shops cook outside Japan. I miss Japan’s elaborate ramen machines, where you can choose everything from oil and heat levels to texture, in addition to toppings and ingredients. Tan’s ramen is high quality ingredients and painstaking technique, changing seasonally, whether Wagyu beef or spot prawns ramen. Noodles are custom-made by local Iseya Craft Noodle, founded by someone who, like the Tans, came from a totally different career: a former Google engineer. Our gracious server brought the double zero flour/10% tapioca flour noodles by in a box before boiling to show their freshness and delicacy. We watched as each layer was thoughtfully assembled before us.

This Friday it was an unusual shio butter clam ramen. 15 hour-steeped whole chicken broth is amped up with chicken schmaltz (fat!), three different types of clam stock and dashi, the aforementioned shio tare, sofrito-konbu oil and iwanori (rock seaweed). Yoko boiled the noodles for less than two minutes, then they added toppings: tender pork ribeye chasu, whelks, raw Hokkaido scallops and Brentwood sweet corn they charred before us. A wheel of konbu (edible kelp) butter slowly melted into the broth. The piece de resistance? Bagna cauda-like shio butter they made out of spent clams diced up with garlic. Damn. It melted over the noodles with clammy hits of garlicky, buttery happiness. The dish evolves and unfolds as the scallops cook and the broth turns buttery.

I hit my limit and took some ramen home, but reveled in it here with a glass of 2018 Kuheiji Kuno Honten Kurodasho Tako, a complex, umami-sweet sake hinting at the glories I discovered in much older (up to 40 years) aged sake in Kyoto back in 2013.

After this (blissful) marathon, we were served a palate cleansing pre-dessert of annin (almond jelly) kakigori: yuzu shaved ice dotted with bright golden kiwi purée over Taiwanese almond “jelly” that’s more like a silky panna cotta. We ended with a slice of Yoko’s pitch-perfect coffee-infused (a coffee they thoughtfully selected, of course) Basque Japanese cheesecake, appropriately burnt on the outside, runny inside like soft cheese. It recalled the best burnt Basque and fluffy-soft Japanese cheesecakes I’ve had in the world, including two of our local bests: Ernest’s runny-fab dessert and Charles Chen’s Basuku Cheesecakes.

Chatting with the Tans and fellow diners, including a couple who has been coming every every season, we felt as if we were leaving a dinner party in Japan, sipping rare sakes, tasting painstaking and lovingly-made Japanese food by passionate, geeky lovers of the cuisine who have honed their craft. Tradition grounds their cooking, while innovation surrounds it, from those Sichuan and Italian bagna cauda global touches, to that mind-blowing Japanese curry course.

I truly wish small business laws and fees were simplified and removed to the level that the Tans could open the casual ramen place they dream of. I also wish this very special restaurant could run for many years and become a San Francisco staple. We are blessed to experience the Tan’s personal vision on a chill Inner Richmond block. When I tried to get a reservation right as they were released, I was able to a few days ahead. Get your calendar alerts on and be ready to jump when those seats are released. A one-of-a-kind, Japan-meets-SF feast awaits.

// 4601 Geary Blvd., www.noodleinhaystack.com

Virginia Miller is a San Francisco-based food & drink writer.

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