蜂屋 hachiya: burnt offerings

by rameniac | 05 Aug 2008

Ashikawa, smack in the center of Hokkaido, has always maintained a high profile when it comes to ramen. In recent years, Santouka‘s corporate growth on both sides of the Pacific have even put the city on the international ramen-slurping map. Yet as an ambassador, the place might be better served by the shoyu-tonkotsu creations of Hachiya, a highly revered ramen shop that has been in operation since 1947, a destination ramen-ya to which noodle lovers from across the country will journey, as if to view the Northern Lights. 

And for good reason. It took seven years for the Shin-Yokohama Raumen Museum to convince this venerated noodler to set up a branch in its basement. The Ramen Museum’s persistence in the matter was understandable, for a bowl of Hachiya ramen is great, great stuff - the zenith of invention for one Enao Kato, who had initially started out selling udon and honey-flavored ice cream in his post-war shop (it’s hachi as in “bee").

The resulting product is Asahikawa ramen through and through, and may well have defined the style itself over the years - a shoyu, tonkotsu and seafood soup paired with firm, risen noodles, made using a minimal amount of water. Par for the course, a tongue-searing layer of oil traps heat in the bowl, and yet, Hachiya distinguishes itself by burning that lard to create a punchy kogashi flavor. The oil is then scooped back out, leaving behind a surprisingly sappari shoyu tonkotsu soup rife with wafu dashi fish underpinnings and a burnt flavor that permeates the entire bowl. One might think the chef had fallen asleep at the stove, if only it didn’t taste so sublime and so absolutely truthful - strong and deep, rich yet light like a Zen paradox, everything all at once.

Invariably, everything is not for everyone. The first sip of Hachiya ramen is a flavor jolt to the palate that pulls no punches. Some may find the burnt musk off-putting, and those less inclined to savor might well dismiss the soup as being too salty. Did I mention that salt water is apparently a secret ingredient in the preparation of the dashi? Take a closer look taste, and roll the soup around on your tongue for a moment. It’s all there, the fish, the pork bone, the shoyu and of course the kogashi, but beyond that, also the age and effort. This is noodling that feels lived in, ramen that exudes Hachiya’s sixty years in existence, Kato-san’s slow trek towards mastery of his craft and the memories that drip from even the Raumen Museum’s faux, newly-built walls. Whether by bullet train to the top of the country or ten hours’ flight to Tokyo, I could hardly have asked for more. 

yes, it's a ten from the judges. do i really need to describe it again? just see above, for gratuitous waxing.	10
thick, partially risen, reduced kansui noodles are great in context. even if you're not a fan of the noodles in the asahikawa mode, i don't think it's possible to divorce the strands from the soup. it's all about how it works together, don't you think?	8.5
this mini-sized portion of ramen at the museum featured a meager but well-marinated and not at all tough chashu, fresh bamboo shoots, and spring onion. next time i'll opt for a full bowl and just call it a day.	8
with three ramen shops to get through in one afternoon at the museum, i wasn't doing any gyoza that day.	NA
the interiors of the stadium shops are fairly plain, yet the raumen museum basement is decked out in a gloriously faux recreation of post-war japan. brilliant and big points for that.	8
hachiya has been around for sixty years, serving up a trademark kogashi shoyu tonkotsu ramen that may well have defined the city's style. awesome by default.	8
	26.5