One such place is Sushi Ariyoshi, near Union Square. It's a fairly nice, almost upscale sushi joint that's reminiscent of what you'll find in the metropolitan parts of Japan, offering a multitude of sushi, yakitori, and udon dishes. The curry plates are only on the lunch menu, but if you ask for one in the evening, the chef will make it -- provided you pay an extra $2. This is a considerable sting given that the lunch prices are already a bit on the high side, from $8.50 to $10.50.

You do get a tremendous amount of food in return. The amount of curry and rice on Ariyoshi's plates is practically ridiculous, so come only if you have a completely empty stomach. You'll also find a decent handful of options. While most places only have one curry sauce, at Sushi Ariyoshi the vegetable, chicken, beef, and seafood curries have their core ingredients simmered for almost an entire day, giving each a completely unique flavoring.

You can't adjust the spice levels of each, but their beef curry is spicier and hotter than the chicken. But it's mostly on the mild side right across the board. (The only one I can't personally vouch for is the seafood sauce, which apparently features sushi-quality shrimp, scallops and squid, because I'm allergic.)

As for the curry roux itself, it's simply phenomenal: thick and rich, thanks to the prolonged cooking period, and a bit on the sweet side. I hear milk and apple are key ingredients, but I definitely detected a hint of honey during my various taste tests. Even in the non-veggie plates, there are nice thick chunks of carrots. And the ratio of sauce to rice is absolutely perfect.

When it comes to toppings, only two options are available, which is where Sushi Ariyoshi falters. The chicken katsu was fine enough, but the pork I had was a total train wreck. Maybe I got a bad cut, but it was extremely dry and filled with nothing but fatty tissue. It was enough to almost singlehandedly ruin the entire meal. Otherwise, Ariyoshi was a fine dining experience -- just avoid the toppings like the plague. Even the chicken, which wasn't bad, wasn't worth the added cost on top of an already expensive plate of curry and rice.

Imagine my shock and dismay when I finally made it back there the other day and found out that Rai Rai Ken had taken curry off the menu. Thankfully, my shock turned to pleasant surprise when I was directed next door to its new sister restaurant: Curry-Ya.

I love Curry-Ya's ambience. Countless noodle shops try to look like the stereotypical rustic ramen shack out of Tampopo, but I think this approach appeals mostly to NYU students looking to get a "traditional" Japanese lunch. It's a breath of fresh air to see a Japanese joint in the U.S. that looks and feels contemporary -- similar to the numerous 24-hour fast food curry shops that crowd around Tokyo's train stations. There's just one long counter plus a small space behind the front window for eating. During the day, it's a great place to have a nice, quiet meal, but at night, when the college kids fill the joint, it can become quite maddening and downright annoying.

But let's get down to business: How's the curry? The sauce is pretty damn delicious. It's no-frills and no-nonsense, an excellent textbook example of why Japanese curry is amazing. It's of perfect thickness, never watery. Each spice is distinct and complimentary to the others. Unfortunately, near-perfection comes at a somewhat hefty price: The original plain curry will cost you $7, which is not too bad, but the toppings add between $6-8 per plate. Yikes.

The Berkshire pork cutlet (pictured) is fairly fantastic, with some of the best breading I've tasted on this side of the Pacific. But it is it worth eight extra dollars? It's worth a try at least once, at the very least. For me, though, the cheapest topping is the best: the simple hamburger steak, a nice thick meat patty that's fried over a flame and finished in an oven, to avoid drying it out. (For $5, it had better be perfect.)

The curry isn't put directly on your plate: It's served on the side, in a small hot bowl, so it's piping hot when you pour it into the volcano-shaped lump of rice on your plate. When your plate is served to you, it's just the rice and whatever topping you ordered, along with a few green beans and plums on the side as garnish. The amount of rice I was given on two subsequent trips was inconsistent: It seems to range between "just enough" and "too little." If you enjoy drinking curry by itself, as if it was some kind of extremely rich soup, then this might be the place for you.

There's not much else to speak of regarding the rest of the menu -- there are a few side salads, the usual assortment of American soft drinks, one token Japanese soda, and Japanese booze. Like most eating establishments in New York City, Curry-Ya gets right to the point. It's no Go Go Curry, but what really is? If you find yourself in the Village, Curry-Ya is a solid alternative.

New Yorkers rejoice!  Forum user Copperchef informed us that Americurry's fave Go Go Curry is holding the first annual Curry Rice Eating Championship in America!

Oh, I know what you're thinking, "I get to eat massive amounts of the most delicious Japanese Curry Rice in America? How hard could that be?"

Well, hard.

Thanks to Nathan's famed Hot Dog Eating Contest and its spawns of championship eaters like Sonya Thomas and Takeru Kobayashi, New York City has become the arena and the training ground for this serious sport.  That said, I expect no less from Go Go Curry, and from the looks of it, the rules seem pretty hardcore.  One in particular caught me eye:

• If water is put into your plate, you will be disqualified.

I am thoroughly impressed that Go Go Curry actually thought of this.  Before I even read the rules, I came up with the strategy of mixing curry rice with water and chugging the whole darn thing (similar to dunking hot dog buns into water to eliminate chewing time.)  Well, there goes my idea.  I'm excited to see what kind of eating tactics people will come up with.

For those who are thinking of participating, Go Go Curry is holding the preliminaries on certain dates between 4/15 and 5/20.  Registration fee is $20.  Very detailed registration details and contest rules are on their website.

For those of you who want to witness the potential awesomeness/horror of this momentous event, email ggc@notionsunited.com or call Go Go Curry (212) 730-5555 to reserve your audience seats for the Finals.

Gambatte!

What makes a trip to Go Go so worthwhile isn't just the food itself, the amazing deep brown sauce and perfect katsu. It's that stepping into the place is like being transported from Manhattan to Tokyo. Inside, it looks just like Go Go Curry's many Tokyo branches -- handwritten signs and newspaper clippings on the walls, pictures of ballplayer Hideki Matsui (his number, 55, is read go-go), and all kinds of other colorful decorations.

The menu itself, just like a Tokyo curry joint, allows you to select how large a plate of curry and rice you want, and lists all the standard toppings. It's cheap -- just $5 for the standard plate, and $7.50 for katsu curry. There are also some batshit crazy menu items: the Grand Slam Curry ($12.50) has a tonkatsu, sausage, shrimp, and hard-boiled eggs, and the absurd World Champion Curry ($25) has all that times two.

Thus, Go Go Curry is a cut above the usual places that serve Japanese curry in the U.S. Some of them do have fine food, but they don't perfectly replicate the curry experience. They don't love curry like Go Go loves curry.

But just loving curry isn't enough; you have to serve a good plate of it. And in every way, Go Go Curry does just that. The katsu, rice, and sauce are perfectly proportioned and artfully laid out in the oblong metal bowl. The sauce is rich, creamy, perfect. I recently was told exactly why it tastes so familiar to me -- Go Go Curry, it turns out, is based in Kanazawa, where I ate curry for a year at school, and the sauce is in the same style as the deep brown amazing stuff they served in the Kanazawa University cafeteria.

You don't need to have eaten in Kanazawa, however, to appreciate Go Go Curry's masterful take on the dish. Just go.