Everything You’ve Heard About Japan is True (a continuing series)

Example #4: Ramen is everywhere

Ramen places are in every town, in every neighborhood, on every block. And turns out there’s actually tons of different types of ramen, with different broth bases, different noodles, different toppings, and different preparations. It’s mind boggling, really, as they all have different names, and it’s hard to keep them all straight. But every single bowl I’ve had has been good, no matter what the combo is.

That said, you know you’ve stumbled upon a great one when you see a line:

It surprised me at first that folks would wait in line –there’s bound to be another place a half-block away!– but as you’ll soon see, I now understand why people wait for specific places.

This was actually the first ramen joint I went to, and is one where you “order” via a ticket vending machine, a huge relief for a still-shy, jet-lagged fella who knows nothing about ordering food in Japan.

The process is pretty much the same at all these places: You first sumimasen yourself into the front of the line to access the machine:

You start my inserting some money into the machine. Then you find the picture of the ramen you want (Bonus: this one also listed the items in English), tap the button, and the machine spits out change & a receipt/ticket that lists your choice (you hope – it’s all in Japanese).

Then it’s time to get in line. This being Japan, there are instructions:

Real-life POV of how tall I sometimes feel in Japan:

As you get closer, a waiter comes out, takes your ticket, and then asks a series of questions in Japanese. This is the hardest part, as I never know what they’re asking, nor how to answer, but we always get through it together:

These ramen places are tiny, so the lines never move fast. It probably took 45 minutes to get to this point:

Once you’re finally at the front of the line, the same waiter comes out, sees you in, & points to where you need to sit.

The inside of every ramen place I’ve been to is essentially the same – a raised open kitchen surrounded by 10-15 seats at an L-shaped counter:

Each seat has it’s own cubby, separated by plexiglass barriers (because of COVID) on both sides. You have everything you need in it, including spices, toothpicks in a demon bowl, tissues-that-serve-as-napkins, chopsticks, asian spoons (which are superior to western spoons!), a water glass, and your own pitcher of water:

Then you sit and wait about 10 min, desperately hoping you get the ramen you ordered without any more Japanese questions thrown at you.

And it worked – my Big Pork Spicy Ramen Soup successfully found me:

Look at that goodness. Holy shit.

You’re seated very, very close to other people, so you can easily see if you ordered the wrong thing:

I did not order the wrong thing. Holy shit.

I even had to capture the blissful moment (once the guy next to me exited, thus slightly reducing the awkwardness of taking a selfie in a tiny place):

This ramen was so amazingly good, I almost felt some emotions. It definitely proved that I’m an ignorant, wanna-be food blogger, so let me declare: Big Pork Spicy Ramen Soup is better than Pho!