Food is life. A spaghetti-eating lesson is subverted by a balding, belching Westerner. A troupe of hobo gourmets trade tasting notes and whip up omelettes in hotel kitchens after hours. A mad granny palps peaches and cheese, pursued by a store clerk. Food is sex. A gangster who resembles a young Chairman Kaga from Iron Chef understands the aphrodisiacal powers of raw eggs and oysters. Food is death. A dying wife wills herself to cook one last meal for her family and promptly expires. With his last breath, Young Kaga tells his moll about yam-stuffed wild boar chitterlings. That turtle. Food is birth. The babe at suck. The best kind of food is ramen. The best kind of film is a film about ramen, complete with training montage, kitchen makeover, industrial espionage, pig's head broth, silhouette slugfest, sensei, menma, nori, and three succulent three-millimeter slices of pork.