New Wave Ramen, Manchester: 'One of the best examples of a tantanmen I’ve had'
Following a successful crowdfund, New Wave Ramen have opened their own premises.
Twixtmas is a weird time. Routine abandons us with the first sip of buck’s fizz on Christmas morning and from then the hours before new year are marked with random courses of crackers and cheese, bad films, board games and family arguments. Societal expectations vanish; it is perfectly acceptable to have a Bailey’s with breakfast, which will be served at 3pm when everyone is still in their pyjamas. Oh and breakfast is smoked salmon with sprouts, and a side of trifle, followed by half a box of After Eights interspersed with Twiglets.
I escaped the slumber-fuelled grasp of Twixtmas on the 28th by replacing pyjamas with jeans and heading into town, alone, to check out a restaurant I’d been keeping tabs on.
Prior to expanding into their new premises, New Wave Ramen created a loyal fan base serving noodle laden broths at Mackie Mayor, a food hall in the Northern Quarter. Following a successful crowdfund, they now they have the kind of neighbours that we all hope for in the form of 10 Tib Lane; the ones who are damn good at cooking and can mix a mean cocktail.
In complete denial at having eaten my weight in roast dinners over the past few days, I ordered two snacks and a bowl of ramen. Karaage chicken (£8) is always a good benchmark of Japanese restaurants but it would have been grossly unfair to refuse the heady wafts of caramelised meat coming from the barbecue, so I got some steak skewers (£8) as well. Both snacks and the tantan V2 ramen (£15) all arrived at once, only five or so minutes after I ordered. It would have been unnerving if I wasn’t sitting at the counter and watching the chefs prepare it.
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Albeit better than the Pringles I would have been eating on the sofa at home, both snacks needed tweaking in order to take them to the heights I have come to expect from New Wave Ramen. Though it was hiding chicken more tender than a holy infant on a silent night, the batter on the karaage squeaked its truth; too long out of the fryer. The steak skewers suffered a similar textural twist of fate; even marinades as masterful as this are lost on meat that makes your jaw ache. Either buy a better cut, cook it low ‘n’ slow or cut it into smaller pieces. Those skewers are a real conversation stopper, and not in a good way.
Obviously as a lone diner I wasn’t having a conversation. The waitress was lovely, but the chefs still seemed to be suffering either bad Christmas hangovers or were furious that they’d been asked to work. Despite being less than a metre away from them for an hour they didn’t so much as a glance in my direction. It begs the question, should chefs be expected to engage if they work in an open kitchen with counter seating like that? They work in hospitality, but in a role that is traditionally not nearly as visible as their front of house counterparts. They are hired to cook, not to chat.
But given they weren’t exactly rushed off their feet - I made up a third of their customers at any one time - they could have said hello. Perhaps they didn’t like the jumper I got for Christmas. Or maybe they were suspicious that I hadn’t chosen anything from the cocktail or sake list and had instead opted for a very nice peach, ginger and chai soft. I was also nursing a three day hangover, thank you very much.
By the time I’d fought my way to the bottom of the generous bowl of tantan V2 (what happened to V1 remains a mystery), I was no longer thinking about chefs and their weird ways. I was completely engrossed in a swirl of sichuan spice tempered with creamy sesame. Yes the noodles were good - you can tell from the healthy resistance they offer that they’re made fresh on site. But the broth, wow. One of the best examples of a tantanmen I’ve had.
Unusually, this take on the Chinese-cum-Japanese dish was topped with minced lamb rather than pork. Once I’d gotten past feeling like someone had dropped their shepherd’s pie in my lunch it really grew on me.
They may not yet have nailed the snacks, or the chat, but they have only been open a couple of months and the ramen was some of the best I’ve had. Certainly in a different league entirely to the dishes you’d get at Wagamamas, which I walked past on my way home and was alarmed to see was packed with families. If you’re brave enough to tear the kids away from their new Playstation, for god’s sake, take them somewhere independent. New Wave Ramen may be aspiring to the authentic taste of Tokyo but it is a Manchester born and bred business and it needs support. Especially during the strange timeless zone after Christmas and in the dark, worryingly sober month of January. I hope my fellow northerners realise what a treat they’ve got on their door step.
Words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour
New Wave Ramen, 16 Tib Lane, Manchester, M2 4JB