My late and beloved friend Bernard once told me that no matter where he went in the world, he always wound up eating noodles. China or Italy, Paris or Worcester, noodles. I don’t think BB ever had a chance to visit Momofuku, a really funky hole in the wall of a place that became so popular for its noodle soups that it moved two doors down, expanded and spiffed up considerably. I love it. Here’s what I usually have, the Momofuku ramen: roast pork, pork belly, scallions, rolled fish cake, noodles, broth, egg. Oh, and that dried seaweed, too. Bernard would have been right at home here.
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