Restaurant Experience: 一蘭 Ichiran Ramen, Kyoto, Japan

As I had promised in my Kyoto blogpost, Ichiran Ramen would get its own separate restaurant experience blog. Many apologies up front for the lack of photos to go with certain descriptions, but my nerves were shot from traveling and readapting to yet another language so photography was not at the forefront of my priorities. 

The first time I tried Ichiran Ramen was around 2007 in Tokyo, with the help of a Taiwanese tour guide, surrounded by friends and family. The tour guide, not only fluent in Japanese, helped us absorb most of the embarrassment of crowding - quite annoyingly - around a vending machine while gawking and feeling way too out of touch with the joys of modern technology. First, I must explain where the vending machine comes into play. 

Vending machines are very heavily integrated into Japanese culture, be it with drinks, tickets, cigarettes, food options, and even hotel rooms. This is made convenient by the fact that Japanese currency carries coins up to ¥500 ($5.48) of value, and that most vending machines will take bills of up to ¥5,000 ($54.85), while capable returning change in paper bills. Ichiran Ramen is one such place that takes advantage of the many conveniences provided by automated vending machines, providing you with a vending machine upon entry that allows you to order a ramen for ¥790 ($8.67) along with other customizable additives for extra change.

Other purchasable items include, but are far from limited to: salt boiled eggs, Asahi draught beer, extra seaweed, extra pork, extra scallions (8x the normal amount), and extra noodles. The prices differ between item and item, but once you've pressed the buttons on the machine and paid up, it all comes out in the same form of a small labelled ticket. Much like the train tickets. All tickets are apparently equal in Japan. I'm okay with that. 

Clutching your lovely bunch of tickets, you are then guided by personnel through little clusters of booths where empty seats are indicated by light up buttons at the entrance, facilitating your search of a good spot to enjoy some good ramen. Each spot is separated by little dividers (you can also fold them in if you're eating next to a friendly party who has consented) and equipped with utensils, cups, and a tap for cold water towards the left corner. This personnel will also hand you a sort of survey (English forms available) as to how you want your ramen. These preferences allow you to customize how al dente the noodles are, how thick the broth is, how much special spicy sauce you want... etc. 

My preferences are hard noodles, a smidgen of spiciness, thick broth. Trust me. They have recommendations for beginners though, and I think I'd take their advice over mine.

The side of the cubicle directly facing you allows you to peak into what is a closed off walk way for the servers to bring you your food and refreshments directly from the kitchen, that is just further off. As soon as you are seated, a server - or at least the mid torso of a server - will appear before you, to offer you tea and allow for you to fill out your forms. Once the forms are filled out, press the "call for service" button, and another server mid-torso will appear, greet you with what seems like a string of Japanese salutations, and then saunter off with your form and tickets. 

I had originally only ordered a bowl of ramen, mostly because I panicked when a line started forming behind me and I still couldn't figure out how to work the machine... Pro tip: consult all your options first before you put your money in and start punching away at the buttons on the vending machine. Otherwise you're just going to fumble at an unresponsive machine until you finally realize you have to put the money in first and then pause for so long after you hit "ramen" that the machine's just going to eject all your change. 

Elliot, bathing in the afterglow of my embarrassment, had a much less nerve-wracking experience with his purchase experience. He ever so casually purchased a bowl of ramen, two mugs of beer, an egg, and extra seaweed. I ended up hijacking one of his beer tickets and asking the server - in very broken Japanese - for an extra egg. So in the end he was only up on me in extra seaweed. Take that, honey.

Mere moments after the mid-section server whisked away my tickets, a cold icy pint of Asahi materialized in front of me along with a whole egg. The egg was sat a top a small saucer which was sat inside a small bowl. Upon lifting up the egg and the saucer, I discovered that within the small bowl sat a small packet of salt and sanitizing napkins. This led me to believe that I was to peel the egg, dispose of the peeled-off eggshells in the small bowl, and leave the peeled egg in the small saucer.

So I did exactly that, benefitting greatly from the sanitizing napkins.

The egg itself was extremely soft, and I feared on multiple occasions that my overexertion of force would then tear the body of the egg - thus ruining the beauty of it all. But by some act of miracle, the shell came off, the egg held whole, and the world was good.

Not too long after I finished with the egg operation, a steaming hot bowl of ramen was brought before me, and I could only stare ever so reverently for a while. Little else warms the soul more than the journey of eating hot tonkotsu (pork-bone broth) ramen, and the journey first begins with visual aspects. I simply must proclaim Ichiran's ramen nothing less than a work of art, with its perfect 1/3 ratio upon first glance of scallion-noodle-pork, only ever so slightly soaked in broth.

Isn't there something about the 1/3 ratio that is the golden rule of proportion of beauty or whatnot? If that is indeed the case, then this bowl of ramen - simply visually - fulfills the golden rules of proportions of deliciousness.

The dollop of red sauce in the middle is Ichiran's house special chili paste, and packs not only a great deal of flavor, but also a good amount of a kick. I ordered only one level over the bare minimum of spiciness, and it was already almost too much for me to handle, but I'm a bit of a wimp when it comes to spicy foods.

The second leg of this holy journey brings us to the broth. I have made it a habit to take a sip of the broth before stirring anything else in the ramen, just to experience the primitive nature of taste which is offered. Ichiran ramen's broth, in its purest clearest form, is divine. The first moment the broth leaves the spoon and comes in contact with your lips, you are engulfed in a seductive wave of sweet, smooth flavors. Within the warmth of the thick, almost greasy broth, there is a sense of clarity and cleanliness - something that can only be achieved by boiling pre-blanched pork bone for hours and hours and hours. It is the marrow which has transcended into another level.

Once the spicy red paste, grated garlic, and scallions are mixed in, an explosion of tastes kicks in. With the sweet, crisp, tanginess of the scallion, the pungent snark of the garlic, and the sneaky last-minute bite of the spice, a pallet could not be any less bored.

I ordered the noodles to be cooked more al dente as a method of offsetting how rich I knew the broth would be. Softer noodles have a tendency to meld textures with a thick broth, making the last few bites a carbohydrate-loaded mess. This is easily remedied by ordering harder noodles, allowing for them to hold their own while carrying over the flavor in the soup.

Finally, the big reveal for the egg.

I had previously ranted and raved about the amazing poached egg which was served to me at Momofuku Noodle Bar in Manhattan, but this is next level stuff. Sorry David Chang. The fact that I had to peel the egg myself and place the very cold, very delicate orb within the soup put me off a little bit. I was expecting for the texture to mutate and the yolk to be a neglected gooey mess that would not warm properly and bring about rampant discord to the dish.

I was so wrong.

The fact that the egg was cold actually helped it maintain its sweet integrity, and the yolk had a great creamy consistency that was only further enhanced by its cool temperature.

In the end, I couldn't finish my soup. My stomach capacity would not cooperate with my willingness to eat, and the richness overwhelmed my fatigued appetite. Elliot, however, downed his share like a goddamn champ, and was rewarded by this most delightful message painted on the bottom of the bowl.

"この一滴が最高の喜びです"

Thanks to handy google translate and cross-consulting of a Japanese pronunciation guide, I have learned that the phrase says simply:

"This drop is the greatest pleasure."

I cannot say more than that.

Shop front. Photo taken from Ichiran's website.

Ichiran Kyoto Kawaramachi 一蘭 京都河原町
http://www.ichiran.co.jp/english/html/kin_kyoto.html (English)
http://www.ichiran.co.jp/html/kin_kyoto.html (Japanese)
598 1F Uraderacho Higashiiru Takoyakushidori, Nakagyo-ku, Kyoto-shi, Kyoto-fu, Japan 604-8041
京都府京都市中京区蛸薬師通新京極東入裏寺町598番地蛸薬師OKIピル1F
Take the Hankyu Kyoto line to Kawaramachi station, 3 minute walk from Exit 9
Hours: 10:00PM - 6:00AM, Open year-round.
Phone: 075-241-2205
Price: ¥790 ($8.51) for standard bowl of ramen, additional garnishes range from ¥80 ($0.86) up

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