THERE is more to noodles than you think. If they weren't deadly serious would the brilliant Japanese film maker Juzo Itami have devoted his entire movie Tampopo to the subject? Tampopo has a claim to be the finest food movie ever made - in my opinion it is the very best - and while it is also a brilliant pastiche of a spaghetti western, it is in essence deadly serious.
Because it is about noodles.
Which brings us to South Great George's Street, in Dublin. To Yamamori. A noodle house.
The space which Yamamori occupies has had a chequered career, playing host to a couple of Chinese restaurants which proved unsuccessful, a legacy which can be seen in the two varieties of chair in Yamamori. The first is pews. Now, this is good. If noodles are about the search for Zen meditation and intuition, what better than to be sitting on a pew? These are long and narrow, and not especially comfortable, which seems just right.
And there are also some of those rather overdone, drawing room style chairs which Chinese restaurants use, and which appear to be left overs from a previous life. These are not good, Zen wise.
The music, however, is brilliant. Not just because it features guys such as Art Blakey and Lee Konitz and other old stagers whom I happen to revere. It is perfect because the Japanese are even more devoted to jazz than the French, and so the zeiteeist of playing cool bop in a noodles house is purest delight. A-plus Zen.
What else is A-plus Zen? The waitresses, for one charming young Japanese women who smile like they haven't a care in the world.
The tea, pale green and mildly tannic, is also good Zen, but best of all is the middle aged Japanese cook in the kitchen, who looks like he has wandered in off the set of Tampop. His facial grimace comes in somewhere between the late Emperor Hirohito and Emil Zatopek, and yet he looks happy at his work.
Which he should be, for his work is good. The noodles at Yamamori are not the best you can get in Dublin, but they are good. The cook manages to grace each of the varieties with distinct and precise tastes. The soba noodles - slim and slender buckwheat strands with a pale brown colour - were ordered with chicken and spring onion, and elicited the delighted response that it reminded my friend of "Irish stew, really savoury and soothing" - the Japanese equivalent of our comfort food.
You can order those dishes we traditionally associate with Japan in Yamamori - the sashimi, a selection of raw fish, is good, and they also have the delicious sushi, balls of glutinous rice wrapped in seaweed leaves - but don't think for a second that this is austere or self denying food - it isn't.
I ordered udon noodles - "They're like tagliatelle with a weight problem," said one of the owners, an accurate description - with seaweed and vegetables, and it was a most soulful and contemplative bowl. Personally, I think noodle cooking works best when it is relatively simple, and this was a perfect bowl.
It's a fun space, the Yamamori, with a good buzz and a good mix of folk, and with only a couple of things disturbing the Zen. There are no Japanese desserts, and only very obvious and unsuitable western desserts, which seems rather crazy.
Also, the owners seem very keen, for some reason, that you should not only order as quickly: as possible, but pay as quickly as possible. Fair enough on a crowded Saturday, but on a half empty Wednesday, what's the hurry? Noodle menus are strange for most people and we received very helpful advice, but this was: counterbalanced by a hastiness which was not very Zen. This job should be left to the delightful waitresses.