As a kid, my parents hired Joy, a Chinese woman who babysat my sister and me when we’d come home from school. I have vivid memories of Joy making me lunch when I would get home and often I would request these weird noodles she would make. These were my first experiences with ramen and yes she would only make the freeze-dried, packaged noodles that came with packets of seasoning in flavors such as “oriental”. Later, while in college in NYC, I experienced my first true ramen and have been addicted ever since. When I booked my trip to Japan, I knew I had to experience as many ramen places as possible to find the best ramen in Tokyo.

What defined the best ramen for me? I don’t really know. I knew I would know it when I tasted it. I don’t have a culinary background; I just know I like food. I researched for weeks leading up to my trip and made lists of all the places I wanted to try.

The Quest

I actually discovered the first (and the winner for best) place on accident, which happened to be near my hotel in the Ebisu neighborhood. Afuri was the name and when searching for some food nearby, I came across it and read nothing but rave reviews. I decided to head over and test Afuri out on this humid, rainy afternoon. I showed up and noticed a line snaking out the door. This had to be a positive sign. I waited in line and inched my way closer and closer to the vending machine where I could place my order before taking a seat. Thankfully, the vending machine had English translations as I ordered a bowl of their yuzu shio ramen with extra pork (tip: Always order extra pork) and a beer. My tickets printed out where I was then lead to a seat and presented with a second menu in which I was to choose which broth I wanted. I pointed to one and hoped for the best.

I sipped my first spoonful and I was hit with a burst of a rich, briny stock that was cut by a burst of citrus from the yuzu. I was in love. I couldn’t eat my bowl fast enough. There was such a well-balanced mix of flavors that it left my taste buds tingling with excitement. After I finished, I walked back to the hotel and fell asleep with a full stomach and visions of soft-boiled eggs and noodles dancing in my head.

The next morning, I did some sightseeing and ended up in central Tokyo, right near Tokyo Station. I had read about a place called Ramen Alley, located within Tokyo Station. Six ramen places lined up next to each other. After about 15 minutes of searching, I found it. The Japanese love their complex mazes of indoor malls and they are way more expansive than you can even imagine. I went up to my first vending machine and ordered. It was good, but nothing amazing. I ventured to a second place and ordered another. OK, the first one was better. But still not blown away. After two bowls, I was definitely stuffed, but in the name of searching for the best, I went to my third location. Now, it was much better than the other two but still didn’t match the flavors I had tasted at Afuri.

At this point, I felt I needed to vomit as I had just eaten three bowls of ramen. I also felt I needed someone to roll me out of the train station. Day two searching for ramen was complete and Afuri was still the winner. I am sure they would have all been wonderful substitutes had I not already enjoyed the most flavorful broth first.

On day three of my search I headed towards Shinjuku station to Ichiran, which is famous for their Tonkotsu ramen, which is a more traditional pork bone broth ramen. Ichiran is a chain of ramen restaurants with locations worldwide and only one option on the menu. The fact that it was such a huge chain left me slightly skeptical, but everything I read seemed to disagree. When I entered Ichiran, I walked right to a staircase heading down to a basement where the restaurant was located. There was a line halfway up the staircase. Due to the small nature of ramen restaurants, well, really all restaurants and even bars in Japan, lines mean lots of people know the wait is worth it.

As I stood in the non-air conditioned stairwell, fanning myself with a free fan I had received from some advertising happening outside, my stomach began to grumble as the smells wafted towards me. The endless line of satisfied faces leaving the restaurant told me everything I needed to know. Slowly inching down, stair-by-stair, I got closer and closer to the elusive vending machine.

Jen Gallardo via Flickr used under Creative Commons License

It was my turn and I chose the standard tonkotsu ramen with extra pork (remember what I said earlier) and this time I had the option of a noodle refill, or Kaedama. Brilliance! I always felt that I had a giant bowl of broth left to drink after I slurped all the noodles up. After paying at the vending machine, I walked around the corner where the line continued. Now we were simply waiting for a seat as a man walked by every person who ordered and handed us a form in which we could customize our ramen. Level of spiciness, amount of garlic, oiliness of broth; the options seemed endless, but they also conveniently show you which options are “recommended” in case you have no clue.

Order tickets and customized sheet in hand, I was lead into one of the rooms. Each side is flanked with a row of stools with each seat featuring dividers on both sides and a bamboo screen Fortunately, the dividers can be moved if you are with someone else. Otherwise, the dividers stay in place. When you sit down, the bamboo screen is rolled up into the kitchen where you hand a pair of anonymous hands your tickets. The divider is rolled up and down between them handing you your items. I received my beer first followed by my extra pork and a small dish that was used to indicate when I wanted my second serving of noodles. The bamboo screen briskly rolled up and the anonymous hands handed me my grail; A steaming bowl of tonkotsu ramen. The broth had a rich, almost milk-y color. I began slurping and was impressed by the wonderfully rich and full flavor. This is what I imagined ramen was supposed to taste like.

I slurped the noodles in, slurping, after all, is considered normal and expected when eating ramen. I quickly pressed the button for my noodle refill and dumped them into my bowl of broth and continued slurping, tossing in my slices of extra pork as I felt necessary. For the first time, I felt I had enough noodle-to-broth ratio. Ichiran was definitely a hit.

Roundup

During my twelve days in Japan, I think I ate ramen close to 10 times. Granted, I had to go back to Afuri, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke and it in fact was the winning ramen.

Clogged arteries abound, I would highly recommend Afuri if you want a unique and, in my opinion, flawless, approach to the classic dish, but seek out Ichiran if you want a traditional approach.

AFURI
1-1-7 Ebisu, Shibuya, Tokyo 150-0013, Japan
+81 3-5795-0750

Ichiran
3 Chome-34-11 Shinjuku, Tokyo 160-0022, Japan
+81 3-3225-5518