kujiraken kaoridashi shio: a fragrant harboring

by rameniac | 29 May 2008

My epic failure on a recent weekend began with a leisurely Sunday afternoon drive and ended in a fit of lukewarm bento boxes, consolation prizes at the Mitsuwa Marketplace Umaimono Food Fair. Yokohama’s Kujiraken was in attendance, and for four days, Southern Californians ostensibly had the chance to sample the famed ramen shop’s traditional shinasoba Chinese noodles. Nowhere on the flyer was it advertised that they would be closing up shop at 2pm that Sunday afternoon, the last day of the festival. I got there at three, and the less said about the endeavor, the better.

Fortunately, I had a bowl of instant Kujiraken ramen at home, and with their instant Kaoridashi Shio, or “fragrant stock salt-flavored ramen” I could at least taste a measure of Kujiraken’s handicraft. Sure, no bowl of instant ramen, no matter how sublime, could possibly compare with ramen chefs flying across the Pacific, and sure it was a whole different flavor altogether, but at least it was something.

As I fired up the four minute timer, I considered the very real possiblity of driving up to San Jose the following weekend - the next stop on Kujiraken’s mini-North American tour. Whether or not I could be bothered, I told myself, would depend on how good this instant shio ramen was.

And although I didn’t actually get my inert ass out of town, based on the merits of this one, I should have driven all the way up to Seattle.

Kujiraken’s instant Kaoridashi Shio ramen was a revelation. The salt-based soup was exemplary, light yet full-flavored with the delicate aroma of fried green onions. One is reminded of Shibuya’s Kiraku, which is a bit more heavyhanded in their approach. Kujiraken’s noodles, at least these instant threads, were pitch perfect and unobtrusive; thin and white, they retained as much eggy kansui essence as reconstitution would allow.

Toss in a slab of chashu that suprisingly sprang to tender, boiled life (in dried form, it had resembled an overgrown Chinese haw flaket), some passable menma and I would have been hard pressed to ask for more. How about a 3 minute wait time instead of 4? How about, the next time they come to town, they stay open as advertised, or until they actually run out of ramen? I could possibly forgive them, if they sent me a few crates of instant Kaoridashi Shio. I hope they’re reading this, I truly do.