If you are Jewish and from Highland Park, as most people who are reading this blog are, you are likely part of the cult that has spent the majority of their birthdays and Christmases at Ron of Japan or as you like to call it, Ron Jon’s. I am still confused where the Jon’s came from. Anyone? The really intense followers cut off the Jon and go solely with Ron’s. They are on a first name basis with this chain that is in my opinion, the definition of an oxymoron.
A few weeks back, one of my friends, who happens to be from Highland Park, was craving Ron’s and asked me to go with her. She is a particularly loyal follower. For those of you who have never heard of Ron of Japan, let me back up. Ron of Japan is a hibachi style Japanese restaurant. You sit in a half circle sometimes with strangers, sometimes with friends and slowly feel the waistband of your pants expand as you are served chicken noodle soup, ginger salad, shrimp with egg sauce, fried rice and for dessert, meat and vegetables. The chef makes a vegetable volcano, sometimes he turns the fried rice into the shape of a heart, he flips the shrimp tails with his spatula. You leave smelling like you took a jacuzzi in onions and your stomach churns like a chainsaw for two days afterward.
The appeal? Right. Getting there. I briefly touched on the egg sauce when I summarized the typical meal at “Ron’s”. The egg sauce is reason enough to go to Ron of Japan. It is also reason enough to not go. Imagine an egg yolk, solidified, and made to taste like a relative of truffle butter. It tastes so good going down that you ask for egg sauce not only for your shrimp, as is standard protocol, but also for your fried rice. That’s right. Fried rice. With egg yolk on top. Do not get your cholesterol checked after a night at Ron of Japan.
Then there is the aftermath. If you do not feel sufficiently sick after you leave, then you did something wrong.
Bottom Line: If you want to taste great egg sauce and feel intense shooting pains afterward, go to Ron of Japan.