It's the anti-McDonald's, in this little way. Secluded vs. mainstream. Locally owned vs. corporate. For tasty food vs. for profit. Good...vs. bad. Kind of like Star Wars, but with noodles instead of lightsabers.
Speaking of the noodles - they're freaking delicious. There's no way around it. Made in-house (you have to give them enormous credit for that - not many places make their own noodles), the noodles are satisfyingly chewy and charmingly misshappen at points,
with a lightly nutty, wheat-y flavor.
The broth itself is different than much of the stuff around the island, which tends to be shoyu-based and pretty monotonous in flavor. Jimbo's is slightly amber-colored, with an earthy scent that floats in steamy wisps to your nose, and a clean, refreshing flavor that isn't overpowering with any particular spice or flavor. It's a good backdrop to the perfectly done udon noodles.
There are many other dishes that shine here too. The curry udon with shiso, which Erin chose, looked damn tasty. The shiso leaf is a distinctive herb (formally known as perilla that has a lively, minty, licorice-y taste (like what would happen if mint and fennel wonderously copulated). It's a nice contrast to the deeply spiced curry coating the udon noodles, and highly recommended if you don't mind the herb flavor itself (which some do, like Alysha). The shiso chiffonade is actually a side dish, and can be had with any of the udon dishes. I plan on trying it next time with the normal udon.
I got the tempura udon combo, which comes with the prerequisite bowl of udon, a plate of tempura (the choices are shrimp with veg, tako with veg, or all veg with kakiage), a small bowl of specially prepared rice (seasoned with soy and studded with chewy shiitake mushrooms), and a little container of just-right tsukemono - not too salty, not too sweet, not too tangy. The tempura is consistently marvelous, with all the characteristics of the well-made variety; it's light and ethereal, crisp, buttery and substantial. However, one gripe surfaced in my mind when took a bite of my octopus: it was a little tough.
Sure, one could argue that octopus is always going to be slightly tough, but the tako tasted like the kind you get frozen in a box from a sushi purveyor (honestly, I would know). All told, it's a forgivable aspect of the meal; the shrimp (or all veg) are better. However, if I'm paying 13 dollars for a combo, I would like to see the tako done right - braised until tender, then dunked into the fryer.
Then again, I have, some people might say, high standards.
Jimbo is consistent with the quality of food, which I appreciate. There are rarely ever "off" meals served here. Pretty much everything on the menu is tasty, and although I'm not sure if the kiawe grill (specials include shiso-grilled beef, grilled asparagus, etc.) still exists for weeknight dinners, I remember that it's fantastic. Overall, it's a great place to eat. Friendly service, no-B.S. food, decent prices...what more can you ask for?
Traditional eateries like Jimbo represent all that is good about eating. It might not be creative, but it's really all about the comfort food. Whether it's a New Jersey diner or a small taco shop in East LA or, as in this case, a noodle shop in Honolulu, traditional, owner-operated restaurants fight a silent battle against the march of conformity in America's food scene. McDonald's, KFC, Burger King, IHOP...it's a fact, not an opinion, to say that these establishments are edging out small businesses all over the planet.
It's almost pathetic that the American mainstream allows these bland, soulless establishments to capture more of the landscape, like a fascist army of pre-processesd, convenienced-based, profit-prioritized battalions. The real question here is, why do people choose the big names over the better, smaller businesses strewn all across the country? I haven't truly discovered the answer to that question yet. Maybe some people are like me. Maybe they do know better. Maybe, God willing, they understand how damaging our increasingly homogenized food culture is. Which still doesn't answer the question: why?
Sometimes I can't even answer for myself, which is why I feel like I'm commiting a sin when I choose, out of laziness, to eat at Jack in the Box. Shouldn't I be looking harder? I ask myself. You're a damned hypocrite, my conscience whispers menacingly. After all, you're the one who protested McDonald's in the summer for your econ project! The paper bag, filled with mayo-and-ketchup-stained wrappers, stamped with that horrid fast food logo, glares up at me from the trash can when I'm finished eating. Liar! Imposter!
Alright, so maybe my trash doesn't talk to me.
Regardless, it's important to see how much of an improvement real food can be. We get so uptight about what we eat - if it has too much cholesterol, sugar, trans fat, MSG. Hah! It seems we care more about MSG than carelessly made food. MSG?! That stuff is harmless to 95 percent of the population. And yet it somehow represents a greater danger than the lube-leaking beef patties sitting around in bacteria-breeding temperatures at the nearest Golden Arches.
I see more and more that such comments go mostly ignored by my friends and also by the majority of America. And it's not that I'm so anti-American as to accuse the majority of the population of being ignorant, but in all honesty, ignorance is a bit rampant in this country. We are, in some ways, kind of like the cattle we consume - so used to the status quo that we move through life not seeing the possibilities.
Jimbo represents a better possibility that more and more people (metaphorically and literally) pass by each day. Maybe that statement is a bit overdramatic; nevertheless, the fact of the matter is that we all have opportunities to eat better every day.
In fact, the conclusions seems to be that the only thing stopping us from doing so is...ourselves?
