“Order up!”

Two cups of hot green tea were set in front of Ron and John, then two bowls of rice, some grilled tuna, and small plates with lightly sauced vegetables and fried tofu.

Both men stared at their small, unimpressive portions, and gave Hanabi small, unimpressed looks.

“The hell’s this, Hana?”

“Two traditional Japanese breakfasts, as ordered!” She answered, giving them both a wicked little grin.

John prodded his grilled tuna with a fork. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it don’t look bad, but it lacks your usual, uh…”

Ron muttered, “Flair?”

“Yeah. When you said you made your usual, I was expectin’ somethin’ that hit harder.”

Hanabi snickered, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. “Japanese breakfasts aren’t as heavy as American; we don’t usually make stuff as heavy as pancakes and bacon and stuff! Those would probably be more like dinners overseas.” She tapped her chin, and reached behind the counter. “Here.”

Both mens’ eyes brightened as she set two large bowls of miso soup in front of them, the expected scallions, tofu bits, seaweed, and various other vegetable bits and bobs were there, but at the bottom was a half-serving of ramen noodles, and some hard boiled egg halves floating on top.

“That should be more to your tastes.”

“Boy,” John rumbled as he grabbed his bowl and dipped some tuna in the miso broth, “this place is really turnin’ me around on Asian food. Last night me and the kids were talking about places to go, and when one of ‘em said sushi, I couldn’t say no.”

He drew up some noodles and chewed the tuna, the light and subtly savory flavor of the miso broth washing his mouth in a comforting warmth. It didn’t have the raw impact of a freshly crisped slice of bacon. The almost airy flavor was mostly buoyed by its heat, easily overcome by the fresh tuna, but far from drowned out.

“This stuff’d be great in the winter.” Ron noted, eating and slurping, almost reconsidering a sip of his coffee, as the harsh, bitter flavor would ruin the palette. “Hey Hana, you said ginger’s good at cleanin’ yer tongue, right?”

“Hai!”

“Gimme some of that.”

Hanabi giggled and did as asked, the two men eventually joined by a few of their coworkers who sat down and ordered some early morning fuel.

She loved this sort of thing. The smells of the kitchen uplifting her mind above the waves of morning lethargy and exhaustion following her normal workout routine, the constant and familiar motions of chopping and stirring, the instantaneous understanding of when to take the food off the grill and start serving…

Cooking was such a wonderful thing. It delighted all five senses, with sizzling and popping from the kitchen, sparkling presentation, alluring smells, satisfying mouthfeel, and most of all, a memorable taste that brightened the diner’s day.

She didn’t mind having a bunch of hairy guys as her main clientele at the moment; everyone deserved to eat! And with the manual labor they put in, they could eat a lot. She was a little wary whenever a woman stopped in – like a morning jogger following her nose – purely based on some sort of ‘Karen’ creature, but she hadn’t run into any issues… yet.

Plus, they tipped! Hanabi had never experienced tips before, but getting extra money in her pocket was a nice feeling! It was easy to get ‘em, too; she just had to roll her hips a little more, bend over a little further, and let the wandering eyes leave some bills for her!

Goro crept from the backroom into the front, rubbing his eyes and glaring around at the customers eating away, Hanabi practically skipping with how much energy she had. His brow furrowed, and with a grumble, he snagged Hanabi’s arm as she walked by with a dirty bowl.

“I thought I told you to not open the shop before me!”

“You did, sir!” Hanabi bobbed her head, and with a smile, presented him with a bowl of miso soup.

He took it, growled, ate, and sat down in a kitchen chair as Hanabi continued her work.

The door opened with the dingle of a bell, and Hanabi piped up with a peppy: “Irasshaimase!”

In casual clothes, a rather portly black man walked in, clapped a hand on Ron’s back, and the two men gave each other a laugh.

“Hey, who let you in here?!”

“Y’all better throw this one back out to sea, he’s stinkin’ up the place!”

The two men cackled, and the new guy sat down next to Ron, looking up at Hanabi curiously… and with more than a few glances over her physique.

“Hana, honey, this is my buddy, Vaughn.” Ron said, and Hanabi gave the man a polite little bow.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Vaughn! Welcome to Goro’s Four Bowls of Fire!”

“Thanks, hon; you the one who’s some kinda crazy spice devil like Ron was tellin’ me about?”

Hanabi tilted her head, but gave a grinning nod. “Spicy food is my favorite food! I actually came over from Japan in order to tutor under Mr. Goro here!”

She gestured to the older man, who chuffed. “She’s an insubordinate little harpy who only listens to half of what I say!”

Vaughn snickered, but looked back up at Hanabi. “Well, Ron here tells me you make it spicy as Hell, no holdin’ back!”

“Never!” Hanabi pumped a strong arm.

“Well I’ve been all over this city visiting the hottest hot spots they got for the spiciest food. Gimme somethin’ that’ll blow my nostrils out!”

Hanabi gasped in delight, and the crowd of men filling the restaurant watched in eager anticipation as the black gentleman took a bib out of his pocket and tied it around his neck, which read: ‘2018 Devil’s Ribs Champion’.

However, before Hanabi could reach for a spatula, a hand slapped down on her wrist. She gave Goro a surprised look as he stared up at her, his annoyance mostly replaced with sternness.

“You!” His head jerked towards Vaughn. “You think you’re a good judge of spicy?”

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Vaughn eagerly nodded his hand, not a single twitch in his face betraying his confidence. “Boss, I was suckin’ down cajun spice before I hit double digits; I ain’t got hair ‘cuz I burnt it all off!”

He and the other men laughed, but Goro just pursed his lips and stroked his pointy beard.

“Then… you shall be the judge.”

“Mr. Goro?” Hanabi asked, squinting in confusion.

“I showed you my marinade, didn’t I?” Mr. Goro asked with a snort. “Now you have to learn how to apply the stuff!” He stormed over to the fridge and took the soaking beef ribs out, setting them on the counter. “When the beef cooks, the juices and marinade will weep out of the meat! Once placed in a bowl of ramen, it can never be taken back! The juices and broth will mingle together and create a new flavor, a new spiciness, and you must balance them properly.”

Hanabi paused. She hadn’t considered how the beef dripping would permeate through the rest of the dish… the flavor profile would change completely, especially closer to where the ribs settled!

“R-right!” Hanabi bobbed her head.

“Make the ramen, but keep in mind what the marinade will do! After he tries both of our bowls, you’ll see how difficult it is to maintain the balance of flavor in Goro’s Summer Fireworks Bowl!”

“We’re competing?!” Hanabi squeaked in surprise, and Goro grinned.

“What better way for an amateur to learn than in competition with a master?!”

Hanabi squeaked, staring over the kitchen in a sudden worry. “O-okay! I will… I will do my best, Mr. Goro!”

----------------------------------------

Shoyu broth was already heavy and rich, a swamp of salty-savoriness that could easily overwhelm the flavors of other foodstuffs steeped in its mire.

Vegetables were perfect to absorb it and give the mouth a nice, slightly-sweetened crunch to enjoy, while noodles grew fat and soft on the flavor, providing a cozy chewiness.

But, meat and shoyu broth loved to fight. Pork belly was the most common topping in ramen; it was an all-rounder capable of going toe-to-toe with whatever broth it was paired with, and was thin and chewy enough to be enjoyed alongside the noodles and vegetables.

Beef, however… Red meat dominated whatever plate it was put in, whether it was as a burger patty or a steak. Beef had a powerful image in the world’s culinary mind: the sizzle of beef on a stovetop, its flavor wafting through the air and filling the nose, instantly identifiable and igniting that gut-deep desire to consume.

But, ramen was a complex dish. The broth enriched the rest of its ingredients; it flavored the noodles, the vegetables, the meat, and whatever else was in the bowl, which meant the broth was the most important part; everything else was negotiable.

That meant Hanabi was having to carefully measure the headiness of the broth against the richly-marinated beef ribs that Goro had taught her to make. Twelve-hours soaking up an eye-watering mixture of chilis, spices, and lime was more than enough for the beef to have grown swollen, and a pinky-finger’s worth of marinade was enough to make Hanabi’s eyes water as cold spicy ran over her tongue and down her throat.

God it was good, but once it was nice and hot…

The kitchen and the dining area both filled with the smell, and the men sitting around chatting during their break stopped to ask about what was cooking. The lady jogger was even eyeing her meal with some disappointment now that beef was on the menu.

Mr. Goro stood by her side, both taking over one side of the grill and watching the meat cook. Hanabi had set her grill up for a high heat to evenly cook the meat, but Mr. Goro had turned the dial all the way to max on his side, watching it sizzle and pop viciously, the outsides of the ribs rapidly blackening.

“M-Mr. Goro?” She whispered.

The old man shot her a stinking eye at her interruption, and she swallowed a little anxiously.

“You’re, uh… burning your meat.”

“Huff!” Goro’s brow furrowed. “Mind your own ribs, girl!”

Hanabi pouted, but did as he asked.

Not long after, Vaughn rubbed his hands together eagerly, the rest of the crowd gathered around to watch as he knelt over the two bowls and smelled deeply. Both bowls were filled with an alarmingly ruddy-red broth, the dark soy and the peppers looking like the drinking water from Hell itself.

The noodles were barely visible at the bottom, and the accompanying foodstuffs looked like they would melt if they sat in it any longer.

Hanabi’s broth was a little lighter, less overall heavy, and the beef ribs looked well-cooked, nicely brown and still sweating into the broth. Mr. Goro’s was much darker, with a heavier soy concentration, and the ribs were blackened and dry on all sides.

“Meshiagare!” Hanabi said with a small, enthusiastic smile. Just what was her mentor planning here…?

“Hoo, boy…” Vaughn grinned.

Hanabi watched intently as Vaughn sampled from both bowls. He was almost immediately exhaling the excess heat after only a few bites, and a glass of cold milk was set in front of him not long after.

After about two minutes of dining, it was clear Vaughn had a preference.

Goro stroked his beard in obvious self-satisfaction as Vaughn dipped the heavily burnt ribs into the broth and bit into it, making pained faces, grinning, and cackling as he passed a few bites out to the other men, who gagged, wheezed, turned red, and laughed at their own and each others’ misery.

Hanabi’s bowl was only partially drained in comparison, a few ribs still sitting in the bowl.

“Nani…?” She mumbled to herself, rubbing her chin as she glanced between the two bowls.

“Sorry baby,” Vaughn smiled in mild shame, “but these crunchy ones are amazing.”

Goro slapped her back, and nodded. “Try ‘em, girl, find the difference with your tongue.”

Hanabi took one of the ribs out of her bowl and bit into it, and immediately winced. Spicy was good, but this was overwhelming! Spiciness had to be tempered with complexity; flavor was supported by spiciness, not the other way around! She could certainly taste the lime and some of the beef, but the spiciness was so pronounced it obliterated the flavor of the broth!

After a quick pant, a sip of milk, and a bite of ginger to cleanse her palate, she took a blackened rib that Vaughn was holding out and bit into it.

Her mind blanked as she flashed back to the night she’d arrived, her first taste of this bowl. She’d been too tired to notice how dark and crispy the food was at the time, but now she understood why: the marination had been almost entirely cooked off the rib flesh, leaving only the stinging, heavy broth taste on the tongue until she bit through it.

The marination that had seeped into the medium-rare interior burst out like a water balloon in her mouth, the spicy lime-and-beef flavoring joining the broth on her tongue and simmering together, each gnash of her teeth dicing the meat and releasing more and more of it until her mouth was filled with a red-hot burn!

She sucked in a deep breath, and the crowd reared back as a pungent flame escaped her mouth, and with a low sigh, steam poured off her bare shoulders, and she gave Mr. Goro a curious look through spice-induced tears.

“That’s incredible.”

“It’s easier to show you than try and explain it.” Goro explained, arms crossed as he wore a smug smile.

“Hey hey, that’s why you’re the boss, eh?” John grinned, and Goro gave a bob of his head.

“Dragon’s Breath Goro will melt your mouth and make you beg for more! Nyeeheeheeheeheehee!” He cackled.

Hanabi stood aside and just wore a small smile; this was what she was looking forward to! The unexpected tricks to take her cooking to the next level of fire-breathing deliciousness!

“Tonight, girl, I’ll show you the why and the how.” Goro snickered. “Iwata sends you to me? I’ll send you back better than he could even dream!”