Ramen Teh

A young man, longing to prove himself, sets off from Japan to visit his mother's family in Singapore.

His father was a celebrated chef who settled in a small town to the delight of its local residents.

Widely renowned he may have been, but easy going (like my dad) he was not, and although he sought to diversify fundamentals, he never shared his knowledge with his respectful son (Takumi Saito as Masato).

After his passing, his son Masato discovers a suitcase full of memorabilia which poses a treasure trove of questions he's ill-equipped to answer.

Yet they lead him to Singapore and its own tempting culinary traditions.

Sleuthing in a foreign country, and overflowing with purposeful examination, his friendly uncle lends a hand, although he can't appease his hostile grandmother.

For his parents married against her will in the aftermath of World War II, their budding love and youthful devotion then overlooked forever after.

She can't forgive.

Even after all this time.

But Masato's full of endearing pluck.

And won't yield to the hardhearted flutter.

Dramatic family drama.

Soothed by gastronomic arts.

Ramen Teh takes one part stubborn and another openminded, blends them intergenerationally, then prepares a multifaceted feast.

The narrative generally follows a linear recipe, but there's enough scenic spice to atemporally tantalize.

It wouldn't have been easy to forgive after the war, and I can understand if some people simply won't/wouldn't.

Watch the videos, the documentaries, Schindler's List, teach yourself about how cruel and horrifying World War II really was.

It's not a humorous subject, not something to be taken lightly, not something to be romanticized, it was systematic abject terror.

Tenderly, in the war's long reaching wake, Ramen Teh uses food to harmonize different peoples.

I'd wager it's impossible to emerge from watching it without a new found respect for Asian cooking, and a strong desire to head out and try something new posthaste.

Ramen noodles for me.

Sitting back and enjoying a meal is something peoples everywhere love to do, and the simple act of enjoying food with friends and/or loved ones unconsciously unites the globe in wonder.

Ramen Teh excels at bringing people together without sermon or sentiment, through the simple act of modestly preparing something.

Compromise leads to reconciliation.

Listening promotes curiosity.

Some of the time anyways.

Some of the best of times.