These days, reality as you know it is transforming before your eyes. Party control is changing. Canadian
weather is swooping down the Mid-Atlantic. The Nats are spending money.
And underground is now on the second floor.
Let us explain. Today, we introduce you to Toki Underground, a tiny new temple to ramen, dumplings and Japanese hooch, opening in January and staying open until 5am on weekends.
This is like a Taiwanese dumpling and ramen bar if it were designed by the same people who did the X Games. You’ll ascend a narrow staircase next to the Pug and enter a small, low-lit room dominated by street art, skateboards and faux trees made of rope.
You’ll have two options for seating, neither of which involves tables: the small bar (key features: vintage Japanese pachinko machines, glassware stored in howitzer ammo boxes) or the counters that line the walls (key features: Japanese comics embedded in the surface, footrests made from skateboards). Note: if you do a little planning, you can also book the four-person chef’s table, fashioned from a salvaged Baltimore steam engine.
In any case, you’ll start things out with a Manhattan made with Japanese whiskey and garnished with charred pork belly, before moving on to rare Japanese microbrews (none containing pork products that we know of) as you peruse a menu that looks like a fortune wheel. Your aim: steaming bowls of ramen, topped with slices of the pigs that will be whole-roasted each week.
Just like Mom used to give you, après skateboarding.
And underground is now on the second floor.
Let us explain. Today, we introduce you to Toki Underground, a tiny new temple to ramen, dumplings and Japanese hooch, opening in January and staying open until 5am on weekends.
This is like a Taiwanese dumpling and ramen bar if it were designed by the same people who did the X Games. You’ll ascend a narrow staircase next to the Pug and enter a small, low-lit room dominated by street art, skateboards and faux trees made of rope.
You’ll have two options for seating, neither of which involves tables: the small bar (key features: vintage Japanese pachinko machines, glassware stored in howitzer ammo boxes) or the counters that line the walls (key features: Japanese comics embedded in the surface, footrests made from skateboards). Note: if you do a little planning, you can also book the four-person chef’s table, fashioned from a salvaged Baltimore steam engine.
In any case, you’ll start things out with a Manhattan made with Japanese whiskey and garnished with charred pork belly, before moving on to rare Japanese microbrews (none containing pork products that we know of) as you peruse a menu that looks like a fortune wheel. Your aim: steaming bowls of ramen, topped with slices of the pigs that will be whole-roasted each week.
Just like Mom used to give you, après skateboarding.
