I was craving a burger so we stopped by the East Village’s new Black Iron Burger, which reportedly opened Monday. Sadly, the place in a bit of disarray and the owner was standing at the door, saying the place will be open tomorrow. (I’ll check it out soon, although I’m a tad skeptical that the place’s $8,000 Keating Miraclean will produce a better burger than a well-seasoned griddle.)
On the way over, we had passed Kurve, which had white paper plastered over all its windows—to keep out the sun, or has it “closed” again? (Check out my column next week for more on this fiasco.) A bill from Anheuser-Busch been slipped under the door. This place is definitely on hospice.
Exhausted just thinking about the complications involved in opening a New York restaurant—especially now, when the blogs are reporting your every move— and denied a burger, my co-worker and I decided on the next best thing, which is obviously ramen. Black Iron Burger is on the same block as Minca, one of the best ramen spots in the Village.
I ordered the “experimental ramen,” which as far as I can tell, is a big bowl of whatever the chef feels like making. I think it’s usually a good idea to put yourself at the mercy of the guy doing the cooking. This bowl featured milky-colored pork bone broth, pickled ginger, bamboo, deliciously slippery slices of pork, a soy-marinated hard boiled egg and black mushroom.
What would you put in your experimental ramen? Mine would be the bastard child of Indian papri chaat and pork broth ramen.