Domu; the wait is worth every mouthful in Orlando, Florida.

My husband and I originally tried to go to Domu around a month ago, but the wait was two hours long, and we were out of time.

We made a promise there and then that we would be back when we had more time. Today was that day.

We pulled up in our Uber, a group of 5, everyone giddy for delicious ramen that we’d dreamed of all day (or the last month for myself and my husband).

I was so hungry that I crossed my fingers for a short wait time and prayed to the ramen gods for speedy delivery.

Upon entering I finally had a chance to see the inside for myself. It was busy, very busy, but I loved the layout and class they brought to the restaurant.

Sure, a lot of people were within those four walls, but it didn’t feel claustrophobic. It was nice, it was welcoming, and I loved how much light was seeping in.

We had two table options and wait times. 1, we would sit inside but it would take an hour, or 2, we could sit outside and wait 10 minutes.

Of course, that was a no brainer.

With our outside seating location picked we quickly hurried away; eager to place an order and get our hands on some chopsticks. It was great to be outside, under the shade of the ceiling, with that evening Florida heat; the perfect environment for drinks and good conversation.

I do believe that with the inside being so busy it may have been loud, so the outside seating was perfect for long chats and relaxation after a day of work.

After a table shuffle and musical chairs the waitress delivered our menus. It was simple; one sheet with two sides housing everything we could ever want.

From the moment I arrived I had set my heart on a bowl of Tonkotsu black, but I scanned the menu anyway just to double check. They had ramen with broth, ramen without broth, cold ramen with no broth and all different extras and combinations to make your meal even more fantastic.

As I ordered my Sapporo the waitress told the table that the ‘Richie Rich’ was their best seller. Still believing I would get my Tonkotsu black, I listened anyway as she told us why. She went on to say that the Richie Rich was the same as the Tonkotsu black, but more of everything and creamier.

Hold up.

My mouth dropped. I didn’t want the mediocre bowl, I wanted the Richie Rich with all the goodness and I wanted it now.

Every single person at the table changed their choice there and then in that split second, and the majority of us were now prepping our chopsticks for a Richie Rich that couldn’t arrive quick enough.

The menu also had a bunch of plates to choose from, like tapas, that you could share as a starter.

Of course my husband immediately saw the burrata, and seconds later the waitress was jotting it down on her notepad.

To follow the burrata would be a bowl of kimchi and a plate called ‘Tako’ which consisted of grilled octopus, smashed fingerling potatoes, a lemony mayo, greens and radishes.

The waitress took our orders and hurried back into the crowded restaurant, only to appear a minute or so later with a small tray that seemed to house marshmallows.

The picture you see above are said marshmallows after they expanded, thanks to the waitress pouring hot water over the top of them. A nice quirk to add before the meal, and very traditional for Japanese restaurants in Japan (the ones I went to whilst there anyway.) There’s always something about a hot hand towel that makes you feel more ready for epic food consumption.

After we were all washed, and ready to go, the burrata appeared.

It looked glorious. I wasn’t sure what the gelatin looking stuff was around it, and I still have yet to know exactly, but I can tell you that the burrata was so deliciously creamy that all 5 of us dug in straight away to grab a small bite each, and within seconds the burrata was no more. RIP.

Next up the octopus.

In true octopus style it seemed to be hiding under a mound of radish and greens; too shy to play.

I was curious, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about those grilled tentacles but dug in anyway. It was different, not my favorite but not the worst. Just very…. ‘octopusie’. My husband and friends however loved it, and that too disappeared in the blink of an eye.

As cocktails and beer were well underway our last tapas appetizer arrived; the kimchi.

I’m not a kimchi lover, but my husband devoured the whole bowl almost single-handedly, and said it was fantastic.

My hunger pains began to chime once again and I decided to stay quiet at the table for fear of releasing the hanger demon. So for the next 15 minutes I sat in silence and waited patiently for that yummy bowl of Richie Rich that I’d dreamed about for oh so long.

The door of the restaurant swung open wide, the waitress appeared with a huge tray, carrying all 5 full to the brim delicious ramen bowls. I couldn’t wait, I bounced up and down in my seat and stretched my torso as far as I could without standing up, trying desperately to get a sneak peek at the contents of those big beautiful bowls.

It felt like Christmas morning as my bowl was placed in front of me. The smell of garlic hit my nostrils and the heat from the bowl engulfed my face; pure heaven, and it was all mine.

It was almost too beautiful to eat, and I instantly kicked myself for not getting extra egg. Thankfully my husband still has not taken a liking to egg of any kind since the last time we had ramen, so I lucked out with another egg half that I could devour in one bite – literally. Thanks Mrs. Conley!

As we’ve learnt from previous ramen reviews, I am an egg slut down to the core, and that still has not changed and never will as long as I need air to breathe. It all comes down to that egg. If that egg is bad I will be sad for the rest of the meal, in fact I’d go as far as saying the egg completes the meal for me, and I won’t rest until I find the perfect ramen egg.

However, you’ll be pleased to know that this ramen egg was the best I’ve ever had; hands down. If the rest of the dish wasn’t as good I wouldn’t even mind, the egg alone was worth the trip. I almost melted into my seat as I shoved the second half into my mouth. It was so creamy and soft, I could hardly contain my excitement as I looked up and noticed everyone else also in heaven. The tables discussion immediately turned to how we’d love to buy every egg in the restaurant and just go home with a big bag each; a girl can dream.

I honestly can’t explain to you just how good these eggs where. Put it this way, if I had to choose between my husband and the ramen egg, it’d be the egg – ha.

I know what you’re thinking, nothing else could live up to that egg, but….. then I tried the pork, and once again I was thanking my lucky stars. I could have happily cried happy tears right into that bowl of ramen and devoured those too.

I hardly had to use my teeth to break through each piece of chashu, and the flavors where bursting out of it – literally oozing – onto my tastebuds. It matched so well with the creamy broth that I believe I’ve never had a better pairing in all my days. The fried pieces of garlic where the perfect crunch with every spoonful of ramen broth I slurped, and the noodle was so perfectly cooked that I could hardly scoop them into my mouth fast enough.

No matter which angle you took the dish, or which side you saw of it, no words could ever do it justice. It really just was that good.

When all was said and done I felt a pang of sadness, and I wished it had never had to end; I even toyed with the idea of to-go ramen for lunch the next day, but I refrained and walked away feeling as though I’d left a part of myself right there at the table.

It was such a fantastic evening with amazing friends, and I can’t wait to do it all again.

Thank you Domu; you have made this Hangry Wife a happy wife.

Until next time,

Mrs. Conley.

(Don’t forget, if you like what you see, follow my Facebook page @ A Hangry Wife.)

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