The Ramen Shaman

A perfect lunch after bouldering and before camping.

With a nice girl.

Japan is awesome.

Sakura in Matsumoto

The previous day I spent 10 hours on small local trains travelling through the Japanese alps. 5 transfers, I think. Finally I arrived in Matsumoto, a city I’ve been to a few times, most recently five years ago. 

It’s a small, livable city surrounded by mountains just like Kyoto, only the mountains are tall enough you can see clouds rising from the pines blanketing the slopes. 

And for my money it’s got the coolest castle in the country. 

I earned this bowl of ramen. After swinging by the castle I rode my bike up up up into the mountains. It was a trek and I rode until I couldn’t match the steepness of the road. On the way down I thought my brakes might fail. 

Sakura does not mean cherry blossoms here. “Kura” is the type of old, thick-walled warehouse the shop is housed in. Not sure what the “sa” part means. 

I haven’t had a thick miso ramen like this in a long time. I got the burned garlic version. One of the most beautiful bowls of ramen I’ve even eaten. Think it beats out Kyoto’s Gokkei... no other gorgeous bowls come to mind at the moment, though most any burnt garlic bowl is a work of art. 

I couldn’t place the flavor. Tonkotsu came to mind. Mixed with the burnt flavoring was a new sensation. The bottom of the bowl was best once everything was fully mixed. I think the miso was hiding out down there, it was almost on par with Sapporo’s legendary Sumire, caramel notes and all. 

Smack dab in the middle of Salaryman City is a unique can't-miss Bowly McBowlface.

Kikanbo features a devil theme and an appropriate ramen experience. It's all about the karashibi spices - both hot spicy and numbing spicy, all mixed up.

Yes. Numbing spice. For the uninitiated, there is a type of pepper, originally from China, that gives the mouth a cool, lightly numb sensation. It's also got an intoxicating, vaguely citrus floral scent. It is very much an acquired taste, and one that I have very much acquired.

The Japanese call it sansho. I call it awesome.

You can choose from four levels of each spice, plus an additional "oni" (devil) level for an 150 yen charge (separate for each spice, both hot and numbing).

I went with futsuu (regular) spicy and mashi (extra) numbing. For result refer to photos. You can really see the green numbing spice all over the place.

It can be hard to appreciate the broth with all that spice going on, to be honest. But the chashu... oh man, I've had Kikanbo before but I do not remember ever having chashu like this.

Sweet and salty and melty in your mouthy. Almost as good as rafute, an Okinawan pork specialty that miiiiiight be the best meat dish in the whole world. Someone once convinced me that rafute was made by first marinating the pork in coke. If that sounds gross, try rafute and tell me it doesn't somehow make sense, like if the tenderest pork was imbued with the deepest cola flavor. Or maybe Dr. Pepper. I think the point I'm trying to make is rafute should be classified as a dessert.

And Kikanbo's chashu is right up there.

This mix of spices and pork of both the tender and liquid varieties is highly addictive. Looking at these pictures of making me both sad and glad I don't live near Kanda or Ikebukuro, where Kikanbo can be found.

Freaking Fuunji.

Often listed as one of the best tsukemen aka dipping noodles bowls in Tokyo, I hadn't been there in years.

Usually you can count on a 45-minute wait to get in but this time we were in and out in less than 30 (thanks covid!)

Unlike most tsukemen, and ramen for that matter, Fuunji is bird-based, not mammal. How they get such a rich, frisky umami punch is beyond me.

I used to know the area well, having first visited when I myself was a visitor to Japan. So it was a surprise when I realized I wasn't quite sure where the shop was and the location's relation to the station (tee hee hee).

My Tokyo geographic knowledge since moving here is like a different brain layer altogether.

But after the countless ramen bowls I've had since moving here, I was still moved by Fuunji. It's just freaking awesome.

Deserves a spot on any Tokyo ramen shortlist.

Another bowl from my Kyoto Greatest Hits trip this past week. This one is largely responsible for the existence of this blog, as it was the bowl that first hooked Ramenate, who’s blog I found as I was just beginning my ramen initiation, and inspired me to start this blog waaaaay back when I lived in Los Angeles. 

Not that anyone reading cares...

But I do! This shop is smack-dab in the middle of the bars and clubs of Kawaramachi, open to the street, and unique in that they offer - no not rice krispies! - fried tempura batter as a topping. The picture above is the After shot, this one is the Before:

Not so sexy. It’s your typical Hakata-style tonkotsu ramen, a little rough around the edges and reeking of the smell your pores will be oozing for the next few hours. But that same smell wafts into the street, a siren song for late night revelers and ramen romantics. 

It’s up to you to class it up with pickled ginger, sesame seeds, chili powder, and the aforementioned fried tempura/rice krispie bits. 

I hate to post this because I don’t want more people to show up, but just around the corner is one of the all-time bars I’ve ever been to, a must visit every time I’m in Kyoto and one I first stumbled upon as a clueless traveler 10 years ago. Ishi, the owner, is the best. Nothing beats a long day of sightseeing and ramen eating than a couple tall Sapporo bottles and his amazing fried cheese. 

Just look at this beauty.

Is there a better looking ramen to celebrate your birthday? Is there a better ramen to celebrate being in Kyoto with almost zero tourists? Is there a better ramen in Kyoto, period? 

This is Gokkei’s Kyoto-style chicken broth ramen, a gravy-like concoction that runs counter to Kyoto’s traditional understated refinement. But the flavor! And texture! And that photo with my now outdated samsung galaxy s7 (yes I will be getting a new phone soon). I got the seat closest to the door and the sunlight streaming in on a cool fall day, that’s how I got such a beautiful photo. 

I can’t remember if they had these before, but now you can choose between regular, red, or black versions. Mine is the latter, with homemade blacked garlic oil drizzled on top, floating on the chicken waterbed. The noodles firm and springy, the menma thick and crunchy, the chashu barely adding anything actually because the soup is almost denser. 

Pretty good fuel for a day of bike riding all over Kyoto.

七 Shichi

Abura soba aka no-soup ramen.

Sometimes, in the midst of a healthy eating phase, when you're working out regularly and in fact just finished bouldering in Shibuya, a tantalizing memory of when you used to eat ramen wherever, whenever, and all the assorted memories will suddenly flood your mind and you realize today is an adventure just as any day could be, and you also realize Shichi is right around the corner.

Shichi means 'seven'. I last ate here in November, seven months ago. I took a friend of mine visiting from LA, it was his third trip to Japan and this was the last meal before his flight. He immediately declared it the best meal he's ever had in Japan.

One way to know you're in Fukuoka is by the proliferation of yatai in the central areas, basically the ancient precursors to today's food trucks. Wooden, hand-pushed carts that open up transformer-style into an incredible streetside dining experience.

Most serve ramen in some form, even grilled (a Fukuoka specialty). I ate at the one on the right, and sat next to three girls visiting from Osaka who dispelled the myth of Osakans being fun and talkative.

Steps to enjoying Fukuoka:

Step 1: arrive

Step 2: go bouldering

Step 3: eat hakata ramen

Isso was like meeting a long-lost friend. "Ah, there's my boy!" thought I. Rich, porky goodness. Barikata noodles. Convinced my friend to get a kaedama (noodle refill) with me. He regretted the decision, I did not.

Jiro. Ramen. Honten.

This has been on my bucket list for years. Funny thing about living somewhere. Somehow you can’t be bothered to travel in your own city. You don’t go to bars alone, you don’t go to museums on your day off, you don’t travel 25 minutes for one of the most legendary bowls of ramen of all time.

But when I had to transfer trains in Mita I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Luckily it was a Tuesday so the line was very short. But the bowl was very big.