Counter, Ramen Nakamura – Honolulu, Hawaii

Nearly bedtime, my wife and I returned from a bar. Passed by Ramen Nakamura. The line was auspiciously short. The wait to get in is usually over 30 minutes and often runs over an hour. The small restaurant is perennially busy. We wrote our names on the list and waited.

We made it — the last customers of the night. The counter was bustling with slurping ramen customers. I snapped this photo, doing a little street photography while waiting for our order.

Then, from the corner, a young couple asked for sriracha. And broccoli! I was shocked and confused. Were they from a small town in a fly-over state? Didn’t they realize the many hours of work required to craft the soup? Indiscriminate use of sriracha would blow everything up.

I yelled across the counter. Hey, were y’all from? Orange County, they responded (the suburban county just south of Los Angeles). Will wonders never cease. For the record and to protect the innocent. The sriracha requesting couple is not pictured here. Nope, there were further down on the right.

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