My Ramen Journey
I have eaten ramen all over the world, from Japan, of course, to Europe and the United States. I will admit that I have rearranged my holidays more than once to enjoy a bowl somewhere I would not otherwise have visited. RamenDB and, unfortunately, a few ramen influencers became my go-to guides.
At the same time, I have always wanted to recreate ramen in my own kitchen, partly to understand why I liked some bowls and not others. I never expected that curiosity to become an obsession. Eventually, I even started hosting ramen parties for my friends.
Please excuse the plating. It sucks. These photos were never supposed to be published on the internet :D
Classic double-soup shoyu: store-bought noodles, nori, spring onions, chashu, red onion, and decidedly imperfect plating.
Ginger tori paitan: chashu, menma, ajitama, spring onions, and store-bought noodles.
Eating and evaluating ramen
Before discussing cooking, I want to explain my tastes and the experiences that shaped how I think about ramen.
A non-scientific approach
A small disclaimer: I realise that I am not a professional chef and that my tastes are highly subjective. They are influenced by my mood, previous experiences, and expectations. Tasting the same bowl again might produce a completely different reaction, and that is fine. We are human, after all.
Over the years, I have collected notes and thoughts about almost every bowl of ramen I have eaten. I have also documented every bowl I have made and every resource I have used. I have some spare time during my holidays, so this seems like a good opportunity to summarise my ramen experiences so far.
The duck shoyu
My favourite bowl, the one I would happily eat again right now, is by far the duck shoyu ramen from Moeyo Mensuke in Osaka.
I love both duck and ramen, so the combination speaks directly to my heart. It was an incredibly comforting bowl that brought together two of my favourite things. To this day, I have not found anything that beats it.
Ivan and the shio quest
My second-favourite individual bowl is the shio ramen served at Ivan Ramen in New York City. Ivan Orkin probably needs no introduction among ramen nerds; his bowl is simply amazing. I love the purity of shio ramen, and I think he is one of the best in the world at it.
On my last trip to Japan, I ordered shio ramen almost exclusively. It is very difficult to find in Europe; apparently, no one is insane enough to try it. I ate eight bowls, with varying degrees of success.
Two were particularly memorable.
The first was the truffle shio ramen at SOBAHOUSE Konjiki Hototogisu.
The second was from Shinjiko Shijimi Chukasoba Kohaku. I seem to have lost the photo, unfortunately.
With the exception of that duck shoyu, shio is my favourite style. It tastes pure and honest to me: there is no shoyu or miso to hide behind.
Chintan shoyu
Another favourite style is the classic tori chintan shoyu ramen. It is warm and hearty, and even better when the chicken broth is paired with a fish-based dashi to add another layer of flavour.
There are far too many excellent examples to list here. Almost any decent ramen-ya in Japan makes a great shoyu ramen.
Tori paitan
I also enjoy a good bowl of tori paitan from time to time. It is richer and heavier than the clear soups I usually prefer, but sometimes that is exactly the point. Two bowls deserve a mention here.
The first is the tori paitan from Chinese Noodles ROKU in Kyoto.
The second is the triple-chashu tori paitan from Casa Ramen Super in Milan.
Everything else
I do not like miso, not only in ramen, but in general. Sorry, Ramen Lord: I will not be tasting your delicious miso ramen when I visit Chicago.
I do not particularly enjoy thick soups such as tonkotsu, especially the American style. I do, however, like tsukemen. A special shout-out goes to the wonderful owners of Menya Kissou in Tokyo, where I had one of the best bowls of my life: a niboshi-based tsukemen. They also make the best ajitama, according to me.
Noodles
Here is the truth: I do not particularly enjoy nerding out about noodles, and I am not especially picky about them. However, the best noodles I have ever eaten may be the thick ones at Shinpuku Saikan Honten in Kyoto. Ivan’s are also high on my list.
Fish
Fish-based ramen is underrated. It can taste remarkably fresh and provides a welcome departure from the familiar flavours found in most bowls.
One example is the yuzu fish ramen from Casa Ramen Super in Milan.
Another is this shrimp ramen from somewhere in Japan. Probably. My note-taking system clearly failed me here.
Cooking ramen at home
Before discussing recipes and my ideas about making ramen, I want to share the resources I used to learn.
Learning resources
Books
I love reading, so naturally, I began with Ramen Lord’s excellent free ebook, The Book of Ramen. It introduced me to the five components of a ramen bowl and allowed me to break down the process, focusing on one component at a time. Eventually, I bought other books that helped shape both my approach and my taste.
YouTube
Podcasts and communities
- Way of Ramen Podcast
- The Ramen Podcast
- r/ramen and the ramen Discord community, both of which provide plenty of material for home cooks
My cooking journey
My ramen-cooking story began simply: one day, I added soy sauce to an underseasoned chicken broth and claimed that I had made my first bowl of ramen. That claim was not entirely true, but in spirit, it was not too far from a complete bowl.
I decided to focus first on two components: broth and tare. I was happy to buy serviceable noodles, and I knew I could master the toppings with enough practice. I did, however, completely underestimate the importance of aromatic oil.
Milestone 1
Looking back, my first milestone was learning how to season chicken broth. I began by preparing a simple stock without any aromatics, then tested it with different salts, soy sauces, and types of miso. Keeping the broth constant helped me understand how each seasoning changed it.
I then moved on to simple shoyu tares based on recipes from Ramen Lord and Way of Ramen. Adding them to the same broth allowed me to isolate the effect of the tare and begin to understand how it shaped the final bowl.
Eventually, I found a shoyu tare that made my broth taste as though it might have come from a ramen-ya. I stuck with it for a long time.
This was an important moment because it gave me the confidence to feel that I knew what I was doing. Spoiler: that was not true, and it probably still is not. Still, I remember thinking, “I can cook ramen.”
Milestone 2
After reaching that first milestone, I felt great about my progress. For a brief moment, I thought I had already mastered the art of making ramen. Little did I know how much I still had to learn about one of the most important concepts in Japanese cooking: umami.
I began by reading the Umami Information Center’s explanation of what umami is. I also started making dashi and adding it to my rather boring chicken broth, paying attention to how it changed its depth and flavour.
Milestone 3
The third milestone was learning how to make good chashu and ajitama. Even when the ramen itself is average, these two toppings can make the whole bowl much better. Everyone, even people who are not ramen nerds, can appreciate a well-made ajitama or a tender slice of chashu.
Milestone 4
My latest milestone was understanding the role and importance of aromatic oil. I now believe that it can make or break a bowl, and I have been experimenting with many different oils to understand what each one contributes.
My failures
Of course, my home ramen journey has included plenty of failures. I have tried to reproduce many recipes and failed spectacularly. I can confidently say that I may never produce a truly great shio ramen worthy of the name, let alone recreate the duck shoyu I had in Osaka.
I tried several times to reproduce Ivan’s shio ramen using his sofrito technique. The results were not great. I could go on, but you get the idea.
My go-to bowl of ramen
This is the bowl that I have made regularly for the past nine to twelve months, tweaking it slightly each time, mostly to avoid eating exactly the same thing over and over again.
It is not my favourite ramen ever. It is not especially original, and it is unlikely to blow anyone away. It is simply what I like: my go-to bowl at the end of a long, tiring day when all I want is ramen.
I designed the recipe around three goals:
- It should be fairly simple.
- It should be easy to customise.
- It should not be too heavy on fat.
Broth
My broth combines chicken stock and dashi.
Chicken stock
I begin with chicken stock. For simplicity, I use a whole chicken, buying the best-quality organic one I can find, and add chicken feet for gelatine.
Dashi
I try to make the dashi on the same day because it requires little active preparation. I soak kombu and dried shiitake mushrooms in water for six to eight hours, then add katsuobushi later, following the standard method.
My usual blend is 70% chicken stock and 30% dashi. I add 3/5g of katsuobushi salt at the bottom of the bowl as well.
Experiments and variations
I sometimes make the following variations:
- Add ginger to the chicken stock
- Add a few pork bones; when I do, I include a clarification step similar to this one
- Change the ratio to 50% chicken stock and 50% dashi, then omit the katsuobushi salt
I have also run a few experiments to build confidence in this part of the process:
- Store-bought stock with added gelatine: noticeably different from homemade stock
- Tap water versus distilled water: no meaningful difference that I could detect
- Cooking temperature: after testing several temperatures, I settled on 85–90°C for six hours
- Niboshi in the dashi: less of a difference than I expected
Tare
I use a blend of shoyu and shio tares. The shio tare comes from Ivan’s book. For the shoyu tare, I use high-quality nama or nama-age koikuchi shoyu for the main body and aroma, a second marudaizu koikuchi for additional aromatic complexity, usukuchi for brightness and salinity, and a small amount of real tamari for body and umami.
I then add hon-mirin for roundness, sake for aroma and integration, a little apple cider vinegar for definition, neutral honey to soften the edges, and a small amount of gyosho for extra savoury depth. Finally, I adjust the salt level according to the actual salinity of the soy sauces I am using.
Experiments and variations
- I do not use the four different types of salt called for in Ivan’s recipe. I ran a simple test by dissolving each salt at the same concentration in water and could not taste a meaningful difference between them.
- I love Ivan’s sofrito variation, but it is the most tedious part of making this ramen and lasts only about a month in the freezer. When I am not in the mood to prepare it, I use this shio ramen method instead. It is not the same, but it works.
- I have experimented with many soy sauces and can confirm that, for me, expensive soy sauce is worth every penny. There was a time when ordinary Kikkoman was enough. Now I buy high-quality unpasteurised soy sauce whenever possible, and it makes a substantial difference.
Toppings
Chashu. I love chashu, but I find it too fatty for a bowl I eat every week. Instead, I tend to use chicken-breast chashu or duck breast cooked sous vide.
Ajitama. I generally use the equilibrium brine from Ramen Lord’s book. It produces a good, though not exceptional, ajitama. When I want something fancier, I add ginger and charred negi, reduce the amount of water, and marinate the eggs for four to six hours.
Menma. I tend to skip menma when I am cooking for myself or only a few guests because the packages I buy online are very large. When I do prepare it, I prefer a softer texture rather than the firmer texture often found in Japan.
Roasted tomatoes, spring onions, and nori are my other usual toppings. Lately, I have noticed that I use fewer and fewer spring onions.
Aromatic oil
I usually add half a teaspoon of chicken fat and half a teaspoon of negi oil. Depending on my mood, I sometimes use niboshi oil or ginger-and-onion lard instead.
Noodles
As I said, I am not a huge noodle nerd, and I am too lazy to make them using the standard approach. The compromise I found is to use a pasta maker.
Does it produce exceptional ramen noodles? No. Are they better than store-bought ones? Absolutely.
My recipe is:
- 50 g type 00 flour
- 20 g type 1 flour
- 20 g semolina flour
- 5 g tapioca flour
- 5 g rice flour
- 37 g water
- 1.5 g salt
- 1 g kansui
Conclusion
Learning to make ramen has changed the way I eat it. I now notice the tare, the aromatic oil, and the balance between the broth and dashi, sometimes to the point where I miss simply enjoying the bowl in front of me.
I may never recreate the duck shoyu I ate in Osaka or make the shio ramen I have in my head. That no longer feels like failure. There is always another ingredient to test, another technique to learn, and another bowl worth rearranging a holiday for. I am already looking forward to the next one.
If you would be interested in the complete recipe, with precise quantities and all the tedious details, let me know. I would be happy to turn it into a follow-up post.