Tanuki Soba (たぬきそば, soba with tempura crumbs)

Tanuki soba looks almost too plain to explain: noodles, broth, scallion, and a scatter of tenkasu, the crisp crumbs left from frying tempura. Then you eat it. The crumbs drink the dark dashi little by little, and the bowl changes under your chopsticks, richer at the end than it was at the first sip.

The one detail that decides it is the tsuyu, the seasoned broth. In Kanto, we make it darker and bolder than the pale broths of the west, with dashi, soy sauce, and mirin carrying the whole bowl. Don't make it salty to prove a point. Make it deep enough that the soba tastes of buckwheat, the broth tastes clean, and the tenkasu can soften without turning the whole thing dull.

Use fresh tenkasu if you can get it from a tempura shop, or fry a quick spoonful of batter yourself. Bagged agedama works on a tired Tuesday, yes, but taste it first. If it smells stale or oily, leave it out. Nothing hidden. This is a small bowl with no camouflage, and that is why it's such good comfort food.