Black Ramen

The "black" is on the right.

I am in Sapporo, Hokkaido, right now. Arrived on time at 11:35 AM (Monday) to rain and snow on the ground in some places. Old snow, to be sure, but snow just the same. (Today, Tuesday, at 11:30 AM, it is "42º, feels like 34º," and that is no lie.) But this blog isn't here yet, there is still the last night in Tokyo.

That evening was made memorable by a bowl of noodles. I met up with Carl again, this time in his neighborhood of Nakano. We started off with a tour of the very old and insanely complex set of malls on the north side of the station (of which I took no photos). We decided on a noodle joint, one that he hadn't tried and finished up the evening with a quick stroll through a Pachinko parlor. You don't ever want to experience a Pachinko parlor without earplugs.

Another one of those crowded, narrow streets.

Our server.

Our chef.

The ramen is black because of the ground black sesame seeds. Carl opted for something else, but has decided that he will return at a later time, to "go black," as it were.

The black ramen.

Whatever it was Carl had.

I have to say that of all the meals I've had here, I was happiest after this one.

After finishing, Carl found something on the menu called "German gyoza." Naturally, we had to try that. 

If it looks like a sausage and quacks like a sausage, it probably is a sausage.

Then the "burn off the calories, after dinner stroll.

One restaurant doing up fish collar "Texas" style.

The JR Ginza Station.

The pachinko parlor.

I headed back to Azabu Court to do my final packing for the flight. There is a lot of construction around Azabu Court. They have been clearing this lot for the whole time I have been there. Since I will be back in the same abode in about six weeks, I decided to take this shot so that we can see what has happened when I get back.

We will see what the future holds.