Zobot and Ramen

My cousin, Zobot, and her boyfriend moved to NYC about two weeks after we did. I've mentioned her before. Bama is in love. Zobot fits a couple of the requirements — she's in math/science and she's got blond hair. Bama's a sucker for smart folks. We get to see her once a week when we play in Washington Square Park then have dinner.

 I have a few funny videos of the two of them running around Washington Square Park. Once Zobot shows up, Mama just hangs out. "Zobot push swing?" "Zobot push stroller?" "Zobot run with Bama?"

 "Sit with Zobot?" almost all the way through dinner. We're trying to get to some good ramen, which doesn't exactly exist within a few block radius of the park. Last week, we tried the Noodle Bar on Carmine which was good and not too expensive. I don't think either of us would rush back there, but it worked for the night.

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Thumbs up for noodles!

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This week, I learned a valuable Yelp lesson. Read the entire review. I put in ramen, and up popped Rockmeisha on Barrow St. Rockmeisha was cool, very good, but not a ramen house. It is a small plate drinking kind of joint. Awesome brussel sprouts with miso and tasty potstickers (the skin was firm but not gooey chewy). One kind of ramen. Like asses, Mister, Zobot, and I all ordered the ramen — once you're on the train, it's difficult to change tracks. 

Bama doesn't care where we are, she loves ramen. She loves the broth, the pork, the noodles. She loves the spoons. She loves sitting on the high stools that are not conducive to little girls eating soup and noodles. 

For the record, Mister and I have been to a few ramen places since we moved out here, but they are all about 1.5 miles, which doesn't seem like a lot until you're walking home with a tired, soupy-noodle-filled-little-girl.

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Zobot and Ramen

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