I’ve been bed ridden with what I’ve self-diagnosed as bronchitis for the last 5 days, so my cravings have narrowed to hot liquids and ice cream. That’s not to say that I want to eat every meal in my cave-like apartment, though – after three days of being cooped up in a blanket, I’ve been desperate for New York civilization, and I refused to stay in on a Saturday night for my throat-soothing meal. I needed to feel the sense of adventure. I wanted to go somewhere new. I scoured the internet for nearby ramen places, and knowing that most would be crowded at 8pm, I took a risk and selected one with a few reviews and one promising write-up: Rockmeisha in the West Village. It was time for a crazy Saturday!
This place is a hole in the wall. Look up at the ceiling and you may start worrying that an exposed pipe will come crashing down on you. There’s minimal decor, music from a juke box playing below audible volume level, a horribly jenky type-written menu and far too many waitstaff for the few tables squeezed together. But amidst the oddities, there is a promising list of unique Japanese food that looked good enough to shift my desire for just soup to a desire for soup and much more. I ordered the house grilled chicken wings, the mushroom tofu slab, and a big, hot bowl of pork ramen to get what I came here for. I loved everything. The chicken wings were served charred with generous pieces of tender, miso-marinated meat on the bone. The thick, breaded slap of silky tofu that lay on a bed of luscious sake gravy, hearty wild mushrooms and garlicky green onions was absolutely divine on top of purple rice. The ramen broth was rich, earthy, and steaming with pork essence – the perfect base for the thin, long noodles, which while over-cooked. were slurp-worthy and delicious.
Rockmeisha is living proof that you can’t judge a book by its cover. The waitstaff may be awkward, the place itself may need a serious makeover, but the food is 100% solid. A dark mysterious sushi bar is the perfect setting for a meal out with illness. There’s much more on the menu I want to try (fried chicken, miso brussel sprouts, fried squid), so I’ll be back in a heartbeat. And, if you’re up for it, you can walk just a block for a Big Gay Ice Cream Truck cone – if a sick person can muster up the energy post-meal, you can too!
Location: 11 Barrow Street btwn West 4th and 7th Ave