Got a little secret for ya. 'Know how it's so hard to find fresh-made noodles from scratch these days? And when you do find them, they're usually more expensive and surrounded by all kinds of hype? I mean, not that they don't deserve it. These guys really are a talented and hard-working bunch - all that twisting, throwing, punching, pulling, and beating down pure flours of all types, adding the perfect amount of filtered water just when needed, hand-cutting each strand with precision and speed, and sometimes conducting the whole process as a big show behind a booth of glass? Quite the spectacle, actually! Restaurants employing them do deserve extra credit, as I'm sure you know that the majority of eateries instead rely on outsourcing for this particular job.

There are still a few shops around town, however, that make their own noodles without a single degree of pomp and circumstance. Talk about genuine humility and commitment to the old ways, as if they were continuing tradition without any air of superiority or any knowledge of how special they really are. Diners these days always crave and respect anything genuinely ethnic, anything steeped in history, and anything done without modern gimmicks, shortcuts, pre-packaging, and cookie-cutter methods in general. The most eclectic and experienced of diners are tired of systems, programs, and schemes, no matter how slick they may be. They want something a little closer to the heart, something more real and personal, something more indigenous. And where does this entire introduction lead us to? My little secret, of course - Nakai Saimin on Nuuanu Avenue, with their fresh, house-made noodles and broth constructed from scratch!

 
Genuine hole in the wall!

Yep, this place is a genuine hole in the wall, with lots of quirks to prove it - an extremely difficult parking situation (1 or 2 spaces behind the building or on the street), a tiny dining area, furniture from the 70's,  charming oba-san's, and a menu so small you could scratch it onto one palm. Neighors to the left and right are also older and similiar in nature, with longtime mom-and-pop's like Nuuanu Floral and Nuuanu Okazuya tending shop nextdoor, just as they have for decades!

There is, however, a few aspects separating Nakai Saimin from a typical dingy hole-in-the-wall. First of all, there are no soda cases, boxes, and other storage items filling a quarter of the dining area! Neither are there duct tape repairs on much of the furniture, owner's kids off in one corner doing homework, a tough mama-san or oji-chan you don't wanna mess with, and a few years worth of missed spring cleanings - all clear-cut signs of a good local hole-in-the wall! Nakai Saimin actually runs a tight ship when it comes to decor and atmosphere. Though kinda cramped with only 6-7 small tables, the place is nevertheless pleasant, clean, and well-maintained.

 
One of the cleanest hole-in-the-wall's around!

Nakai Saimin is definitely a genuine, old-school saimin house, and one of only a few still around. And what is the definition of a genuine, old-school saimin house? Basically, it's a place where saimin takes center stage, and only a handful of other items are even included on the menu. The best of 'em, at least in my book - Shige's in Wahiawa, Palace Saimin and Old Saimin House from Kalihi, and Nakai, all feature either house-made noodles, house-made broths, or both, and none of them carry more than a few items outside of saimin. Check out this menu board from Palace Saimin - and nope, there is no second page!

 
Entire menu from Palace Saimin in Kalihi!

Outside of the main dish in all its forms - straight saimin, wonton min, fried saimin - the two other most utilized dishes at a genuine saimin house are teriyaki meat sticks and hamburgers, affectionately known as "Hamburger sandwiches" back in the day. Though a main dish elsewhere, burgers at these spots are nothing more than sides to complement your hot bowl of noodles!

 
Hamburger "Sandwich"

As you can see, you won't find the perfectly-rounded edges of a mass-made, freezer-pulled patty. These are formed by hand right here in the kitchen and done with lots of love, just as you'd do at home. I wouldn't call them outstanding or anything, but with their old-school taste, they are deliciously simple and very satisfying. They come in either regular or teriyaki form, as shown above, and in tiny sizes similiar to a standard Mickey-Dee's hamburger. You might need two orders!

That other ubiquitous side, the teriyaki beef stick, comes as thin slices here at Nakai - basically, like a typical plate-lunch teri beef, only impailed. Unfortunately, it wasn't my favorite version, with a strong shoyu taste that needed a little more sweetness and also a lack of heft and substance that would have come with thicker slices.

Teri-beef sticks
 

Surprisingly, there's a few more items on the menu here, including plates of hamburger steak, mushroom chicken, and roast pork, though I haven't been able to sample any of them yet.

But leaving the subject of sides and asides, let's move on to the main item, that uniquely local product born in the plantation camps of yester-year!

It is true that saimin is on the menu at just about any local restaurant in town, but not in the highly specialized form found in the best niche players like Nakai. No, typical eateries won't carry 75-cent dried packages of re-hydrated noodles from the grocery store, but neither will they carry anything close to genuine house-made noodles or house-made broths. With mediocre saimin being almost the norm in most eateries on the island, these bland, flavor-starved, quality-deprived bowls of powder-based broths have left even many a local wallowing under the mistaken notion that shoyu and mustard are a necessity. This make-shift sauce may be available everywhere, even at the best spots, but to me, there are so many exquisite layers of flavor and aroma in the broth and such a quality in the noodles,  it's much better to enjoy and appreciate them without any dressings at all.

 
Totally unnecessary!

The four spots mentioned above all cook their broths for long periods of time, utilizing ingredients like pork bones, chicken, katsuo-boshi, fresh vegetables, and the like. Nakai favors a secret recipe that mostly includes a mix of vegetables and fish bones, the latter of which can be detected when using a little concentration. I guess you could say this extra element is a bit of an older-person kind of flavor, and one that could possibly sway folks to lean towards other spots, where the only fishiness traditionally comes from katsuo-boshi flakes or granulated dashi. I myself, however, love the stuff! To me, the use of real fish creates lots of depth and pungency (in a good way), along with a very personal, grandmotherly essence and character! It's about as nostalgic as a bowl of beef watercress or chicken hekka!

Check it out:

Saimin

That other important element in a good bowl of saimin, noodles, doesn't get any better than here at Nakai. I don't know how they do it, but the noodles carry a silky, slippery consistency unlike any other I've seen, and are cooked to a perfectly firm, chewy, al dente-ness (sometimes I make up my own words!). Like Shige's in Wahiawa, the noodles are flat in shape, much like a smaller version of chow fun, and come with no crinkles whatsoever, an attribute found in so many other saimin noodles.

Wonton min is also available, although I'd recommend a straight saimin instead:

 
Wonton min

Not that it's bad. After all, it's the same noodles and same broth as a regular saimin! The additional dumplings, however, does add a slighly different flavor, sweetening the broth a bit with the addition of juicy pork. Some people appreciate generous portions of wonton, along with other items like char siu, bean sprouts, kamaboko, Spam, egg, and more, but add too much, and I'd consider it all "Clutter." The best places like Nakai never add too much clutter, as emphasis is justly placed upon two things - noodles and broth!

And as usual, there's a conondrum in my mind everytime I come to these places - to broth or not to broth? As nostalgically rewarding and enjoyable as a steaming bowl of saimin is, sometimes, a good pan-fried saimin can be just as fabulous, if not more so! All the deep dashi flavorings of the broth are seemingly concentrated even more without the dilution of liquids, and the same silky, beautiful noodles are every bit as delicious!

 
Fried Noodles

 
Backing up

What else can I say? Places like this may seem, at least upon first glance, as overly-comfortable dives that whip-out a plethora of mediocrity, but don't be fooled! I mean, house-made noodles, fresh daily, along with broths made from scratch says enough in itself! Notwithstanding the often rag-tag atmospheres and service, you'll be surprised at the quality found in such a traditionally humble dish, and all at prices considered almost ridiculous these days (under $5 for small bowls here at Nakai!). We're not talking about your average bowl of saimin here, lemme tell ya -this is the real thing! Shige's, Old Saimin House, Palace, Nakai's - if you haven't been to any of these spots yet (without considering outer-island locales!), I'm sorry to say - you haven't had a real bowl of saimin! When I think of how easy it is to find other uniquely local products of a relatively good quality, such as manapua, poke, Spam musubi, and oxtail soup, it amazes me how so many of us, including some of the most tried-and-true locals, have become accustomed to run-of-the-mill bowls of saimin and have not so much as heard of the best of these old-school haunts. It's a crime, really. I'm hoping that all changes for at least a few of you out there! Go out and get yourself a real bowl, and make sure these small bastions of local culinary history always remain alive and well!

Take care, and Aloha till next time!

Stan