Tony has a favourite ramen place already, a tiny restaurant which he often visits, choosing from the menu and paying through the vending machine at the entrance. While I love ramen, and agree that this particular place serves wonderful bowls of hot, fresh noodly heaven, I can never finish the whole thing off. Two Japanese people will have come in, ordered, finished off their ramen (plus rice and gyoza), and I'll still be struggling through mine. I am terrified of offending the owners, and also irritated for wasting good food. Perhaps I should starve myself all day next time, in preparation.