"Anyone can cook"

Remember these words from the movie Ratatouille? I just watched it so it is pretty fresh in my mind. Funny how life throw little coincidences at one sometimes. You see, after volleyball today a friend and I went looking for a quick dinner before heading home.

The venue this week was someone's little brother's high school--don't ask me how they got the keys to the volleyball courts but as usual everything was well-organized. Fewer players this week, great games. I just love diving all over the court rescuing balls--that just means I'm still rusty...should really anticipate balls better. The best players move before the opposition hits the ball.

Anyway, the high school was in a residential neighborhood and my friend spotted this "Chanpon (チャンポン)" noodle restaurant a few blocks away. Chanpon is a type of soup noodles from Nagasaki (長崎), milky seafood broth with lots of veggies and err... seafood. Very nice on a cold day after sports. Chanpon is also famous for being a staple of sumo wrestlers (don't know if it's true).

The proprietor was an old man with somewhat unkempt shoulder-length hair and he barely said anything to us when we entered. If he had tattoos he would have been a perfect yakuza. Besides the menu, there were pictures of mushrooms and short descriptions of their virtues on the wall. Clearly he was passionate about mushrooms. According to some of the printed material, different types of mushrooms were good for cancer, high blood pressure, etc. (Are you cringing, C? :) )

Not that he was very communicative... even when we ordered two large orders of Chanpon he just grunted and set about cooking it. The kitchen was humble, bare, spartan, yet somehow he managed to fashion some pretty good food!. Our Chanpon was very good. The noodles: just the right kind of chewy-ness, the soup: not too oily/milky/salty (his secret: clams), the gyoza: browned in the right places. It was hard to believe that such good food can come from such a simple place and from the hands of such an unlikely-looking chef.

Truly, anyone can cook.

When I complimented him, he grunted thanks and even graced me with the shadow of a smile. He obviously knew his stuff 'cos he then regaled us with takes of how he got each ingredient right. How did he end up being what he is now? Did he sit down one day, weary from fights and power struggles in the underworld, and turned to food for salvation? Did he meet his true love while picking mushrooms to make chanpon but lost her because the lure of the yakuza was too strong? Maybe this restaurant is his way of atonement, his avenue to happiness after a life of hardship and bloodshed.

(No I didn't have any alcohol, if you're wondering)

In the words of Anton Ego, "Not everyone can be a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."