Dining Review: Providence Noodle Bar
This intimate, meditative-meets-industrial space is your entryway into the world of noodles.
If Seoul’s goal is to celebrate city life, then Providence Noodle Bar is a study in intimacy. Tucked away on Mathewson Street, Han Chung’s noodle shop holds twenty-five people, all of whom sit hunched over bowls of soft noodles and sauce. The space sits somewhere between industrial and meditative: Symmetrical slabs of wood form a pergola over the tables, a group sits family-style at the front window, and the minute kitchen hums along like a central motor.
The staff is young and indulgent and often, like Chung, members of the Johnson & Wales community. They’re eager to connect over this amalgam of Asian cuisine, particularly with those who seem slightly lost. These are the diners who readily default to servers when ordering: “I’m into spicy so you tell me what to get,” says one, while another offers that “this is my first foray into cold noodles so guidance would be cool.”
Though some of the appetizers are bold in texture — fried potato koroke, chicken karaage and large cubes of fried tofu ($6–$8) — nearly everything else is part of an interactive game of layered flavors. Cold noodles ($11–$12) are surrounded by a variety of broths, sauces and vegetables — all of which are left to the discretion of the consumer. (An admirable characteristic in a young chef: the ability to loosen the reins of control.) Even the chicken ramen ($16), which is rich with schmaltz and beautifully balanced, comes with small dishes of spicy miso, wood ear mushrooms and shredded nori to shift the broth from subtle to strong.
Occasionally entrees come out just minutes after appetizers. But the advantage is that chef Chung and his team are always in search of new combinations of ingredients in an effort to form a more modern articulation of tradition. Cocktails — and there are as many drinks as dishes — do just the same. Japanese whiskey, vodka and sake spar with strawberry puree, big wedges of grapefruit and Sprite in order to find the balance between Far Eastern custom and American mettle.
And though you could finish the meal with red bean or yuzu sorbet mochi ($2), it’s the griddled muffin split ($9) that manifests Chung’s contemporary approach to Asian food. Dense, sweet muffins — flavored with black sesame or yakgwa cinnamon — are split, griddled and served with a scoop of ice cream in the center and marmalade beneath. It’s a dish that feels fully within two cultures at once and speaks to the future of both cuisines as the world becomes smaller and, at least gastronomically, richer.
___________________
PROVIDENCE NOODLE BAR
187 Mathewson St., Providence, 414-7729, pvdnoodlebar.com
Open Thursday–Monday; lunch is available Thursday, Saturday–Monday. Street parking.
Must Get: Noodles, hot and cold.