花いちもんめ hanaichimonme: the eastside is red

by rameniac | 03 Jan 2007

Back in the days of the Reagan presidency, when J-pop idols had caterpillar-thick eyebrows and Gedde Watanabe was Gung-Ho, Japanese restaurants in the U.S. um… “all look same”. Places were dimly lit, trimmed in deep reds and dark woods, and lined with cherry blossom trees which miraculously grew indoors. And although Hanaichimonme thankfully eschews playing traditional koto music from the stereo these days (in favor of frustratingly outdated Japanese pop), it remains very much a relic of a bygone era.

Nothing wrong with that, really. But people don’t eat there, and that’s a crying shame because their ramen is actually quite good.

First a bit of history. Mitsuwa Marketplace used to be Yaohan, and Little Tokyo Square used to be Yaohan Plaza. Once upon a time, Yaohan Plaza was very much the hip, happening epicenter of all things Japanese in downtown L.A. This once-proud shopping complex is now the most derelict corner of Little Tokyo; few businesses inhabit its cavernous spaces and even fewer people visit them. That Hanaichimonme is still around is a testament to the quality of the restaurant’s noodles and perhaps even their sweets, which feature prominently in one of the more elaborate wax food window displays in town.

Truth be told, I’ve never ordered their desserts, which are mainly anmitsu made with azuki (red bean paste)  and a variety of fruit, jelly, or ice cream toppings. Time and again, I wind up satisfied enough with the savory courses of my meal at Hanaichimonme, usually comprising either the kaisen seafood ramen (if you can consider imitation crab meat and a few bay shrimp as “seafood”),or a rice combination set and a side or two.

The restaurant features “hanaichi ramen” - basically a light shoyu-broth ramen, and a champon made with tonkotsu soup. Champon has never really been my thing, and having lived in Kyushu, I’m fairly skeptical of tonkotsu ramen outside of a Hakata food stall. When it comes to shoyu however, Hanaichimonme’s broth is about as light and flavorful as it gets (in Los Angeles at least). Their soup has a subtle sweetness that is non-existent in most shops, and their noodles, while fairly petite and soft, are thin, straight, and wholly distinctive from the prepackaged JFC or Nishimoto Trading-imported brands that most restaurants try to pass off as their own.

Hanaichimonme’s side dishes are fairly unnecessary, save to add a little heft to your meal - the lacquered bowls they use are Japanese in size as well as in style and are more suited for udon or soba noodles. If you really have a hankering for shumai (Chinese-style shrimp and pork dumplings), you’re better off going to Monterey Park. Gyoza is served with an iceberg lettuce salad - like mom, they must assume you’re not getting enough veggies.

As a nice little bonus, orders of ramen come with a side dish of tsukemono. Again, this is an old school touch, and Hanaichimonme’s pickled cabbages are perfumed with a whiff of shiso, not a bad thing at all.

If there’s anything lacking about Hanaichimonme, it’s that they need a serious image makeover and real estate in a better part of Little Tokyo. Their throwback ‘80s decor is quaint, but doesn’t do the food justice. And plus ramen, which is considered Chinese in origin, is rarely ever associated with parasols and cherry blossoms, especially not in Japan. But then again, neither is teriyaki chicken.