大勝軒 永福町駅 taishoken: slurpin' in the rain
by rameniac | 28 Dec 2006
Although a Japanese analogy to the classic American diner (real, not faux) might be a robataya or an izakaya, Taishoken feels like an Edward Hopper painting come to life in suburban Tokyo, glowing green like a gigantic mothlight, off the beaten path but gorgeous in the sudden rain as on the night I last approached it. Not to be confused with that other Taishoken (they share only a name in common), this lonely outpost in suburban Eifukuchou is as famous among Tokyo noodlers as Yamagishi-san’s soon-to-be-extinct temple to morisoba.
But don’t get them confused. Taishoken Eifukuchou is a different animal altogether, a specialist in wafu-style shoyu ramen that dishes out hulking, supersized bowls of the stuff, large even by American standards. If sumo wrestlers could live off ramen instead of chanko, they’d probably be eating here.
What’s particulary distinctive about this shop is the overwhelming fishiness of the soup, a murk of chicken, sardine, bonito, and even yuzu flavors stewing beneath a coating of impossibly hot oil. It’s heady stuff; Taishoken was among my first bowls of ramen when I returned to in Japan in 2005; this time around, it was my last before leaving the city for the tonkotsu-rich climes of Western Japan. The taste might be a bit strong for those in search of a light, Tokyo shoyu broth, but if you’re visiting Japan and you’ve come this far (it’s not exactly in the shadow of Shibuya 109) you probably know what you want.
The egg-based noodles are yellow and curly, and the extra coilage provides a pleasant enough texture. Kids will have fun whipping broth at their neighbors as they slurp, assuming they haven’t burnt their tongues on the scalding hot oil. The noodles are anything but firm, however, and in a bowl of ramen this large, such softness can turn to sogginess if the contents are not eaten quickly. It is to Taishoken’s credit that the noodles retain a strangely pillowy consistency and never, ever devolve into mushy pasta.
When it comes to toppings, the few bits of chashu may seem small and cursory at first, and they’re a little on the dry side. But then you realize it’s not the chashu that’s lacking (it’s terribly well seasoned, for what it’s worth) but the fact that the bowl is simply so huge, nearly double the size of a regular portion of ramen. You’re also eating everything with the largest soup spoon you’ve ever seen.
Taishoken has been around for decades; it’s no fly-by-night ramen operation, but a venerated neighborhood shop oozing with a vibe of hard-earned respectability. It boasts a newsletter and a famously competitive employee salary (where else can a young ramen chef make $60K USD a year?!) and even offers its ramen to-go as a packaged and bottled take home kit with explicit instructions on how best to heat the soup. The shop will even loan umbrellas to patrons caught dining in the rain. Apparently there’s an honor system by which customers return them. And if you were one of them, you know you’d be back the very next morning.
| a chicken-and-fish stock shoyu that's overwhelmingly wafu in flavor, with a strong taste of sardines and dashi, kept hot and heavy on the oil. found a bit of a yuzu peel in the soup! the secret ingredient? hmmm... | 9 |
| soft and curly yellow egg noodles. some may argue that it's too soft; i think it works well with the particular kind of soup on offer. light and airy, and though it expands in the bowl, never devolves into the texture of pasta. | 8 |
| chashu seemed at first to be a bit dry and small, but then you realize that it's just the size of the bowl that's so huge. it's well-seasoned too. shinachiku, tokyo negi, and naruto are just fine. | 7.5 |
| the ramen came in a punch bowl. i couldn't eat anything else! | NA |
| the restaurant exudes an odd edward hopper, '50s american diner vibe. warm and inviting and a bit lonely all at once, especially coming in out of the rain. quite an experience. | 6.5 |
| a neighborhood institution that provides loaner umbrellas! simply awesome. | 6 |
3-5-3 Eifukuchou
11:00am - 1:00am
| 24.5 |
