This one happens to be from Q Go Ramen (1443 West Broadway). You most certainly don't need to read another online review of Q Go; about how the portions are huge, how they give you compimentary edamame, about how the broth and toppings can be hit and miss depending on which dish you order (although I've never been dissatisfied myself), as all you need to do is google a bit. Instead please note that the featured ingredient on this particular bowl or ramen is shredded cheese.
I first learned of cheese ramen from the menu at Kintaro (which I've been meaning to revisit for many months, but oh how I hate lineups, bad for a ramen-lover) and I have repeatedly enjoyed their version, which includes (if memory serves) both finely shredded and thinly sliced white cheese. Admittedly the cheese itself is generic enough that if we were but a few kilometres south (and saying "miles" instead of "kilometres") we'd be calling it "American cheese." Fortunately we're not. The menu listing at Kintaro mentions that "Ladies love it!" prompting Marie to give the nickname "Cheese Ramen" to a certain prominent Vancouver-based guitarist. I've since enjoyed versions of the dish served at Q Go and G-Men in Richmond.
Now at first, the idea of adding cheese to a bowl of ramen may seem strange. It definitely did to me at first, and continues to seem that way to Marie. But it didn't take me long to warm up to the taste, where the fine shreds melt into the (hopefully) painfully hot broth and produce a rich and creamy, slightly tangy texture. And it got me thinking about how cheese remains a bit of a novelty ingredient in Japanese cuisine. As lactose intolerance is commonplace among Asian people, dairy is not as widely used as in the West. In particular, cheese can be a bit of a tough sell for the Japanese palate, in the same way that natto, umeboshi, or takuan (which btw my daughter LOVES) could be for a typical Westerner. Traditionally speaking, topping a Japanese dish with shredded cheese might be akin to smearing wasabi onto your hamburger bun. But it's easy to forget that in spite of the purists and impassioned aficionados, ramen is fundamentally a fusion cuisine to begin with. Although it is undeniably a Japanese phenomenon, ramen in the eyes of the Japanese is a Japanese version of a Chinese dish. I remember being surprised to see ramen-ya in Osaka that had Chinese-style logos and mascots on the signage, before I knew what ramen really was. Even the side dishes betray their Chinese roots: potstickers (gyoza/ jiaozi) or steamed pork buns (nikuman/baozi). Okay, I know cheese is neither Japanese nor Chinese, but my point is that the fusion of cultures can open the door to new experiments. And this one happens to work.
I think that many great things in the world of food are the result of adapting one culture's cuisine to the ingredients or palate of another. There are of course numerous exceptions too, like the abomination that is "Pacific Rim fusion": people throwing wasabi or mirin on anything and calling it "Asian-influenced" but that does not deserve our focus here. I think I may have mentioned a similar thread talking about banh-mi earlier. I'm curious to find and identify more examples of successful cuisine fusions that have made a long-standing impact the same way that banh-mi or ramen have.
Alright I'm almost determined to write next time about music instead of just food and justify the latter part of the name of this blog. Right now I'm listening to Chicago Underground duo records ("Axis and Alignment" and "Synesthesia") and marvelling at how two people can play multiple instruments and make music that sounds improvised and composed at the same time. How do they overdub or multitrack such well-formed improvisations? Seems like a logical impossibility.
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