Finally

About three weeks ago, Joey and I made the trek to Hogtown together on our own separate agendas, but didn’t part ways for the day until I made sure we stopped somewhere for a good bowl of pork Ramen with the Ill Shing Leung. Being the responsible ramen eater that he is, and well adept at knowing the fantasy of the dish, he suggested we try a new place that has been abuzz with cosmopolitan cooing: Kinton Ramen. Better, so they say, than Momofuku, the powerhouse backed by David Chang himself, and perhaps the reason for a surge of ramen popularity lately. Any place would have been fine, I was just after some perspective, and a good bowl of noodles. I’ve had it elsewhere in the past and haven’t been too dazzled by the stuff, but hoped this time would be different.

So after a good drive to the richer neighborhoods of Etobicoke, and a long ride on trains and streetcars thanks to an impaired subway system on the weekend, Joey and I arrived near Kensington, an unfortunate two hours after our planned arrival, saved luckily by the sharp Shing Leung who made sure to reserve spots for us in the surprisingly packed Kinton Ramen.

Its long wooded hallway, kitchenette bar, and anchored wooden stools matched so many of the planetary Japanese joints that come to exist in the West along with the artifice I’ve come to acknowledge with so much peevishness: the huzzah of order yelling behind the bar from performative cooks. A fun novelty for some, a curious gimmick for others. The paradox of the ramen place, at least here, may be that you’re entertained by the yelling and urged to stay longer in a long cramped place, unlike Japan, where you’re shuffled in and ushered out because of little room, uncomfortable stools, booths and maybe uncomfortable, if not symphonious, noodle slurpings. But for all that was going, people seemed to get along with or without the hoopla. 

My favourite part about the place? The inexpensive portions that do a good job of filling you up. If I was sad about anything it was that I couldn’t eat more, because Kinton offers more than good focused bowls of ramen; there’re dons, dumplings, even chicken wings. So much so, I couldn’t help but strain my eyes to the right of me, intrigued by the patron eating the place’s original fried chicken.

I eagerly chose the most democratic dish in my mind: Shio Ramen, packed with nori seaweed, a delightfully sweet soy sauce marinated egg, bean sprouts, pulled pork, and pork shoulder, all topped with sea salt. The ammoniated smells blooming off my chewy, effervescent noodles were an attestation to the place's ability to make them fresh, the sinuous nature of the things acting as the perfect vehicle for moving broth to mouth. At first a little salty, but disappearing over time by the savoury quality of roasted pork, reminiscent of both the smell and taste of bacon, I was finally able to put ramen broth into perspective, and damn good perspective at that. How can I say I loved it anymore? Breaking my egg and flooding the broth with the runny yellow yoke transformed the broth’s richness and made for a great finish. My only unexpected pang came with the pulled pork; fine in flavor, its texture was a little too deviant, resembling and feeling like tuna from a can, too ground to be pulled, but all in all, an okay thing in regards to the rest of the dish. 

Yes, we came, we ate, we conquered, all going our separate ways, wondering how long it would be until we shared affordable food in a place that waxed little expense. Only in Toronto.

Kinton Ramen
51 Baldwin St 
Toronto, ON
M5T 1L1
(647) 748-8900

Mon-Sun 11:30 am - 3 pm
Mon-Thu, Sun 5 pm - 10:30 pm
Fri-Sat 5 pm - 12 am
Any payment

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