Bakugo began as a small bar counter built around a single cast-iron pot. We set the pot over low flame and didn't touch it for eighteen hours. What came out was the first broth — milky, unhurried, a little stubborn.
We still cook that way. The pot is bigger now, and the room looks out at Hibbard Avenue and the sea beyond it, but every bowl still starts with something that takes its time.
The Red Dragon — our signature — came out of an experiment with chilis, black garlic, and a sauce we still won't name. It's a bowl built for the kind of evening when the air off the water is cool and the conversation runs late.
Ten years from now, we hope the broth still tastes like patience, and that someone walks in for the first time and feels — without quite being able to say why — that they're somewhere honest.