Sushi may be Japan’s most famous culinary export, but ramen runs a close second, and in terms of sheer devotion — the willingness of people to queue for an hour in the rain for a single bowl — it might actually take the lead. I write primarily about sushi and seafood, but ramen has a hold on me that I cannot pretend otherwise about.

The dish is deceptively simple in concept: wheat noodles in a flavoured broth, topped with various garnishes. But within that framework, the variations are almost infinite, and the depth of craft involved in producing a great bowl of ramen is staggering.

The Four Major Broth Types

Ramen is typically categorised by its broth, and there are four main styles.

Shoyu (soy sauce). The original Tokyo-style ramen. The broth is typically chicken or pork-based, seasoned with soy sauce that gives it a clear, brown colour and a savoury, slightly sweet flavour. When done well, shoyu ramen has a clarity and depth that is deeply satisfying without being heavy.

Shio (salt). The lightest and most delicate of the four. The broth is clear and pale, seasoned simply with salt. This style demands the highest quality base stock because there is nothing to hide behind. A good shio ramen tastes of pure, concentrated essence of its ingredients.

Miso. Originating in Hokkaido, miso ramen uses fermented soybean paste as its primary seasoning. The broth is opaque and robust, with a complex, savoury richness. It pairs well with heavier toppings and stands up to cold weather like nothing else.

Tonkotsu (pork bone). The heavyweight. Pork bones are boiled for 12 to 24 hours — sometimes longer — until the collagen breaks down completely, producing a thick, creamy, milky-white broth. Tonkotsu originated in Fukuoka and has become perhaps the most popular ramen style outside Japan. The broth coats your lips and delivers a richness that borders on decadent.

The Noodles

Ramen noodles are made from wheat flour, water, salt, and kansui — an alkaline mineral water that gives them their distinctive yellow colour, springy texture, and slightly slippery surface. The thickness, wave pattern, and firmness of the noodles vary by regional style and are carefully matched to the broth.

Thin, straight noodles pair with lighter broths like shio and shoyu, where a delicate noodle does not overpower the soup. Thick, wavy noodles are better suited to heavy broths like tonkotsu and miso, where their texture can stand up to the richness and their waves trap more broth in every bite.

The firmness preference is personal. In Japan, many ramen shops let you specify your preferred firmness: kata (firm), futsu (normal), or yawa (soft). Kata is the most popular choice and produces a noodle with a satisfying bite at the centre.

Toppings That Matter

The standard toppings are familiar to anyone who has eaten ramen in Sydney: chashu pork, a soft-boiled egg (ajitama), nori, menma (fermented bamboo shoots), and sliced spring onions. But within these familiar elements, there is enormous variation.

Chashu — braised pork belly rolled and slow-cooked until tender — varies wildly in quality. The best versions melt on the tongue with a deep, caramelised flavour. The worst are dry and flavourless. The egg should have a jammy, just-set yolk that oozes when you bite into it. The nori should be crisp when it arrives and gradually soften in the broth.

Some shops add their own signatures: black garlic oil (mayu), chilli paste, corn kernels, butter (a Hokkaido tradition), or sheets of pork back fat (chavhu). These additions are not gimmicks when done thoughtfully — they are calibrated to complement the specific broth.

Sydney’s Ramen Scene

Sydney’s ramen offerings have improved dramatically over the past five years. Where we once had a handful of reliable shops, we now have a genuine scene with diversity and quality.

The CBD remains the densest concentration, with several dedicated ramen-ya along the main streets and in the lower levels of food courts. But some of the best bowls I have had recently have come from suburban shops — places in Chatswood, Eastwood, and Marrickville where the focus is on the food rather than the fit-out. Interestingly, a few ramen operators I have spoken with are starting to use digital tools for demand forecasting and ingredient ordering — one firm we talked to had helped a ramen chain reduce broth waste by predicting daily customer volumes more accurately.

What I look for in a ramen shop is evidence that the broth is made in-house and given serious time. The test is easy: a great broth has layers. It does not taste like one thing. It reveals itself over the course of the bowl, changing as it cools, interacting differently with the noodles and toppings. A broth made from powder or concentrate tastes flat and one-dimensional by comparison.

Making Ramen at Home

Full disclosure: making proper ramen from scratch at home is a significant undertaking. Tonkotsu broth alone requires 12-plus hours of active cooking. But the results are extraordinary, and there are shortcuts that produce very respectable bowls.

A good approach for beginners is to focus on a shoyu or shio base. Make a simple chicken stock from wings and frames, season it carefully, and spend your energy on perfecting the toppings — particularly the chashu and the egg, which are both forgiving of imprecise timing and deeply rewarding when they come together.

The noodles are the one element I recommend buying rather than making. Fresh ramen noodles from Asian grocery stores are excellent and save hours of labour. Sun Noodle, if you can find them, are used by many professional ramen shops worldwide.

Ramen is comfort food at its most refined. It warms you from the inside, rewards curiosity and experimentation, and has the kind of depth that keeps you coming back, bowl after bowl, always finding something new. If you love sushi for its precision, you will love ramen for its soul.