Find your "boom" on Capitol Hill

I have never slurped ramen in Tokyo, where I hear tell the streets are thick with noodle shops. Those lucky enough to have done so may be inclined to diss Boom Noodle's glossy, high-style spin on the concept — but I'm a big fan of this new Japanese-style eatery on Capitol Hill.

At Boom, the team behind Blue C Sushi is looking to do for noodles what it did for conveyor-belt sushi: interpret a Japanese culinary experience for an American mass audience. The kitchen, led by executive chef Jonathan Hunt, operates on an ambitious level, sending out gorgeous plates and sumptuous noodle bowls. The food quality is high; the prices are low; the experience is fun. It's an ideal equation for the consumer.

Smartly dressed, artsy-looking and diverse, the customers are just the sort the designers must have imagined would inhabit their emphatically modern space. A sprawling rectangular box with wasabi-green walls and lots of windows, it's all straight lines and smooth, hard surfaces.

Families show up in the early evening, no doubt lured by $5.95 bento boxes geared for the 10-and-under set. Weekends find hip 20-somethings sipping shiso mojitos, cranberry-kazes and fizzy cucumber cocktails spiked with shochu as they wait for an opening at the bar, in the lounge, at a table for two by the window, or at one of the communal tables for 10. There are eight of those in all, lined up two-by-two, a bit like a regimental mess hall. Above them dangle single-bulb lights that resemble a starry firmament at night and something akin to temporary construction fixtures by day.

Boom may have noodle in its name, but there is more than just noodles on the menu. "Small plates" include a fine and filling okonomiyaki. This humble batter cake, generously studded with pork and cabbage, hides under a crazy confetti of carrot and daikon, red pickled ginger, nori, bonito flakes and Serrano pepper drizzled with aioli.

Chilled sesame tofu, beef tataki and soy-glazed chicken yakitori skewered with skinny Tokyo leeks are lighter nibbles. Leeks also garnish the beef, along with grated ginger, daikon and sancho pepper. The meat is seared on one side, enough to add charry flavor to the tart ponzu sauce that marinates the raw flip side.

The tofu looks like a chorus line. Each creamy cube wears a topper worthy of a Ziegfeld girl, made with bits and pieces of shiitake, wakame (seaweed), onion and bamboo shoots under a veil of sesame cream. If you think, as I did, the sauce needs extra oomph, make use of the shaker of togarashi on the table.

Tart, spicy yuzu pepper boosts the flavor of edamame purée, an enchanting escort for house-made purple Okinawan sweet potato crisps. That dish, along with the omakase pickle plate (a changing assortment of tart, spicy, crunchy miniature veggies served with molded mounds of seasoned 10-grain rice) turned out to be "my boom" — contemporary Japanese slang for something you're obsessed with, and the meaning behind the restaurant's name.

If noodles are "your boom," take spoon and chopsticks to a steaming bowl of Wild Salmon Udon. My favorite among the soups, it features white king salmon and its crackling, iridescent skin, as well as shiitake, spinach and firm, fat udon noodles in a white miso broth perfumed by the gently smoked fish. The runner up: roasted red beet soba, an orgy for beet-lovers. Plumb the depths of that sharp, spicy, deep maroon broth and you'll dredge up pickled plum and shiso along with slivers of beet and ropy, red-dyed soba noodles.

Shio ramen has a robust broth so redolent of pork you expect to find some among the crinkly egg noodles. Instead there are soft shards of chicken, some not-so-tender scallops, wakame and pungent bamboo shoots, all contributing to the earthy quality of this fragrant soup.

I'd heard raves from friends about the generously stocked seafood curry udon, but the broth was off-kilter the night I sampled it. It tasted burned and bitter, and the lacy, lotus root adornment I'd observed on other visits was absent.

Chilled noodles turn up in salads, such as miso udon. At once gelatinous and firm, they not only absorb the mild miso vinaigrette, but also help lasso plump little rock shrimp, spicy greens and radish sprouts, scallions and crisp cucumber. Mizuna salad is sans noodles, but crammed with moist grilled chicken, bits of orange-fleshed kabocha squash and pale baby lima beans all saturated in bold black sesame vinaigrette.

Yakisoba and fried rice have a bright, fresh taste. The slender egg noodles come with delicately fried tofu or beef. Rock shrimp, edamame, black wood ear mushroom, egg and pickled ginger pad the rice, topped with slabs of cha shu pork that have the unmistakably rich flavor and utterly relaxed texture of meat that's enjoyed a leisurely braise in a potent liquid.

Food comes quickly, delivered by black-uniformed servers who strive to be attentive and helpful and mostly are. Order in stages if you want to slow the pace, and don't overlook the little table card listing vibrant fresh juice drinks, flowering teas that literally blossom in glass pots and elegant "Tokyo Sweets" like an airy mango mousse. Embellished with fresh mango, minty shiso syrup and sesame brittle, it walks the sweet/savory tightrope like a skillful acrobat. My boom. I feel another obsession coming on.

Providence Cicero: providencecicero@aol.com