A girl walks home from work, where she was going to cook a bowl of instant noodles for dinner, when she walks past the neighborhood katsu-shop, possibly the only Japanese tonkatsu specialist in the city. What does she choose? What else can she choose but walk in, sit alongside other solo diners at the bar and order an extra large bowl of pork katsu curry.
The Japanese curry was unremarkable, a little thin and runny and without much vegetables in the sauce. A mound of nutrient-free shredded cabbage with a sesame-garlic dressing was mundane but offered her the illusion that dinner was not completely unhealthy. But the deep fried pork cutlet was excellent, with juicy, slightly pink meat encased in a very light and crunchy panko crust, so crunchy it almost cut the mouth. It was good with the curry sauce but even better undressed. And while she knew the porkshop was most definitely artery clogging, the katsu was so greaseless she could not feel it. When the girl was done scraping her bowl the server asked if she wanted dessert. “Why not?”, she thought, the harm’s been done. But reason trumped impulse, and she left with her sweets. Another time perhaps, when she finally decides to stick to shin ramen.
Katsu-Hama
11 E47th St (Bet Madison and 5th Ave)
Orderinny 
