Our friends had varying opinions about the place:
- Charlie, (a tall, white guy from San Diego who has lived here for ten years) who was most insistent on going said, "Sauce! Sauce! I cover it in a lot of sauce," when explaining to everyone else how he could stomach it.
- Akira (a 40 year old punk promoter and label owner) told us it was, "made with dog meat." I'm still not sure if he was kidding, or if he was right.
- Others asked us if we were sure we wanted to eat there.
- Some said they only eat there because they have to.
After a long discussion Akira decided that Sabina wasn't allowed to eat there so she had to wait outside while I ate.
(This is one of the two photos I was able to get as photography is not allowed inside Daimaru)
At about three Charlie told us we had to leave the bar because Daimaru was open and we were supposed to meet back up with some other friends. When we walk up to the place there is a line of about three people outside. Daimaru is a hole in the wall, seriously, only six people can sit cramped in there at a time. You kind of have to know it's there because Daimaru doesn't really have a sign outside. The owner leaves a wooden sign outside when he opens, but it's been covered by so many layers of stickers and graffiti that EVERYTHING is illegible.
Daimaru's sole owner, employee, cook is an old man that has been running the shop for the last fifty years or so. He looks a lot like a creepy ramen monster. He wears all white, with a white skin cap on his head, and a white mask over his mouth. At first I thought he was wearing white, rubber gloves, but alas, it was just his wrinkly, pruned, old hands disfigured by constantly handling boiling water.
What happens is someone leaves so you walk in and take their seat. The old man croaks something at you, asking if you just want the regular, a bowl of ramen, and you reply, "Yes." The other options are irrelevant. There is a pitcher of water on the counter to fill up the plastic cup he gives you. Water looks gross, doesn't matter, it's so hot and humid in this place water is an immediate necessity. Takes about five minutes or so before he places a bowl of ramen on the counter that is nearly the same diameter as my chest, the ramen is topped with a pile of bean sprouts nearly half a foot tall. At this time you stand to receive the ramen, bow, and say, "Thank you."
(A friend receiving his ramen)
The bowl is scalding hot so you have to use two little towels resting on the counter to move the ramen to the shelf in front of your seat. Now you can get a good look at this monstrosity.
I have never been intimidated by a meal, I'll eat anything even if it's just to brag, "Yeah, I tried that." Daimaru was not an easy meal to conquer though. There was just so much of it, I mean, I had to eat through an entire packet of bean sprouts to even get to the ramen underneath. So I followed Charlie's lead and I slathered this thing in sauces. There are three sauces at Daimaru, none have labels, and none have a discernible flavor to hint at what exactly they may be. If you think you need more bean sprouts (you're mad), or "dog" meat (you're demented), there are extras on the counter to help yourself to. And if you don't think you've had enough noodles (you're crazy) you can always ask for more at no additional cost.
It probably took me twenty minutes or so of non-stop (there is no conversation in Daimaru, only eating) chowing down to finish that bowl. You think a big bowl of ramen can't be that bad, but there are many factors contributing to the difficulty of this meal. The primary challenge is the heat. There is no air conditioning, there are no fans, just heat. Stepping outside into the more than 80 degree humid Nagoya streets was a huge relief, I nearly felt cold trying to re-adjust.
When you have finished, or just can't take anymore, you stand, place your bowl on the counter, and give the owner 550 yen. In return he gives you candy and bows. Bow back, say thank you, and get the hell out of there because someone outside wants that seat.
Daimaru isn't the most ideal late, late night meal I can think of after drinking all night. But I will recommend it for anyone who wants to: fall asleep immediately, possibly go into a real coma, or doesn't want to eat the next day (either because you're too full or sick).
Garbage Gut approved.
