On Weather
On Sensing Coziness at Yasubee
Each essay is an essay from the past. I’ve done the thing: enjoyed the meal that lives in memory. Or another liminal space: the future craving.
Today, now, it’s 88 degrees. When we went to Yasubee, a ramen place, the evening was cloudy, with rain on its way toward the weekend.
We made our way to the Chelsea location, an area we frequent when we go to the occasional gym class (boxing or running, in fact). It’s an easy place to find, with two sidewalk signs announcing happy hours and specials. We made reservations with a pulsd deal (think of it like Groupon), where we’d share an appetizer and dessert, but get our own entrees and drinks.
We kicked the evening off with a mocktail (a Yasubee Mule, with a lemon and orange twist) and a white yuzu ale (which I didn’t try, but was told was delicious). Yasubee offers a few canned milk teas alongside other mocktails and cocktails, other beers—a small selection, yes, but carefully curated.
As quickly as the drinks arrived, so did our appetizer of karaage chicken. Beautiful, crispy boneless fried chicken with a citrus Kewpie dip, topped with black sesame seeds. Carlos burnt himself a tad from the first bite, warned me to wait—and I did, patient, knowing how glorious the chicken would be. And it was: Crispy (see that batter!). Juicy. Not just a quick one biter, either—definitely 2-3, making each morsel a more savoring experience. The Kewpie was a delightful way to slightly cool the chicken, provide even more moisture than imagined.
Again, whatever your weather today, the weather was cold. We wanted hot broth. We wanted noodles. We wanted ramen. We chose two different preparations, both with a broth fortified with pork. Each type comes with bamboo, a jammy shoyu egg, and noodles (of course, noodles!). And these noodles were bouncy, which I really enjoy in a ramen noodle. I chose the shoyu ramen—a soy sauce-based broth, three slices of chashu pork, spring onions, and seaweed. It was exactly what I’d expect from a bowl of satisfying ramen. The bamboo was actually a surprise for me—yes, I knew it’d be there. But it took on this unctiousness due to the broth—like a mushroom, it sopped up the broth. The egg was perfectly jammy! (A side tangent: I attempted to make ramen at home, and did a quick jammy egg (not soaking it in soy sauce and other flavorings before enjoying it), and it is truly an art!). The chashu was excellent: soft, moist (yes, despite being in soup! Soup can continue to cook the meat if we’re not careful!).
My beloved chose the miso ramen, fortified with more fish (anchovies and bonito in the broth). His came with minced pork, bean sprouts, carrots, chives, spring onions, and sesame seeds. His had a lot of texture! And heat! And the fish essence was coming through beautifully! You cannot tell from the picture, but there was more red in the broth (most likely if red miso was used, perhaps!).
We saved half of our ramens for later (mine was enjoyed as soon as we got home, and Carlos enjoyed his the next day. 10/10 on the leftover quality!).
Yasubee offers three cheesecakes for dessert: Basque, yuzu, and ube. We decided on the Basque—or should I say, creme brûlée. We had a gorgeous torched sugar top to the golden cheesecake, topped with powdered sugar. It was a wonderful time, especially as we haven’t had too many “Basque” or “creme brûlée” cheesecakes (and had been craving cheesecake). Our waiter, before he left, gave us a yuzu cheesecake for later (which I enjoyed thoroughly at home the next day).
We cannot wait to go back, whatever the weather may be. And right before we left, I heard what could have been a regular’s order—the immediate recognition from the server, the immediate “Do you want the wasabi chashu tonight?” (Yes, wasabi chashu! Torched chashu and wasabi soy sauce!). The way I wanted to say “Yes, and much more next time.”
And Now, We Further the Plot: Your Literary Rec
Rain sometimes brings out a sense of coziness—the desire to stay indoors, surrounded by warm things, listening to the rain outside, the slight knowledge of petrichor in the air. There is also an air of possibility: How do we pass this time, now that we’ve chosen for the world to be indoors? I chose to spend some time with my pal Grady Chambers, a fantastic poet I’ve known for years, whose novel Great Disasters has been keeping a warm spot on my TBR shelf for some odd months. The novel focuses on a friend group, a set of boys from high school with 9/11 and the impending wars as backdrops as they grow into themselves. Grady has always had a beautiful sense of narrative in his poems, a quality of “writing as if to a close friend.” I feel that quality immensely, carrying this story along my commute to the office and back to my couch. Here is a book I can open and fall into immediately. Shut out the buzz of the world for awhile and let another world unfold.