Ramen?

It’s been a good 3 years, but I suppose Watami Sushi and Sake Bar has absolved any guilt I’ve held over it during that time, if only serendipitously. Because if I hadn’t respectfully accepted a dinner invitation to the place I would have never discovered its weekly ramen special. That’s right, Watami sushi has heralded itself into the charmed circle of ramen. Seriously. I may have no truck with bougie size portions and fleecing the rising middle class diner with the ideal that sushi somehow equals sophistication and cosmopolitanism (thanks, 80’s Japan), but if any place anywhere brings one of today’s most charged dishes of Japanese cuisine to the backwoods of Kitchener-Waterloo, I can’t help but ethnographically eat it. Thus, with a couple days wait and a quick phone call to the only other digestible dude around with decent ramen perspective, I called Joey and we were off. Coincidentally, hung over and ready to dive in to what we hoped was a good bowl of ramen noodles.

It’s a small choosing, but with a myriad of combo options you can choose from two styles of ramen bowls and a bunch of other stuff on the side. I won’t divulge the possibilities, because as far as Joey and I were concerned, a big 11 dollar bowl of ramen was meal enough, and we were both pretty hungry, if that means anything. And luckily, our own choice of bowl wasn’t denied us, it unfortunately being the only one we could choose from out of the two that day. Ours were bowls of Shoyu Ramen: simple pork broth enriched with soy. Noodle reclamation supported a big bowl of sliced pork, sweet preserved egg, sprouts, chewy seaweed, nori, and canned corned. We didn’t waste any time. Joey’s become a star student of anything gourmand. I thought the broth was salty and a little too slick, but Joey said I must have been kidding, sparing no feelings- ‘It’s super oily.’ Relieved, I agreed. Its potency in taste and texture was almost overwhelming, all because of a strong boil of plain old pork. None of the smokey, cured qualities that you find in other ramen broths, both in taste and smell. That kind of liquid bacon soup was something we missed here. What we didn’t appreciate though was how the broth managed to flavor the noodles; still, we couldn’t forgive such an overwhelming richness. The noodles too lacked the alkaline notes that finished on the tongue. Personally, we always enjoy that strange little bit of chemical, but for the unaccustomed diner, we could see how this wouldn’t be a problem.

Fatty slices of pork would have been welcomed in a less oily broth, but it was another imbalance we weren’t too fond off, especially since there was no special spin on the meat. No flavor, no braising, just a plain topping. The canned corn did a good job of balancing out any saltiness, but I felt the kernels’ soft buttery character should have been reserved for a milky dish of miso ramen only- with a big old knob of butter. Otherwise, the dish just seemed riddled with obligatory toppings you hear about in bowls of ramen. Pairings seemed to lack finesse. That said, there was only one other bowl left to try: miso style. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers. And Watami seems the only place making an effort to offer what pop culture sells to us as ramen. Will others follow suit? It’s hard to say, especially since it’s taken this long for something so simple and underwhelming.

Watami Sushi & Sake Bar

15 King St N  

Waterloo, ON

N2J 2W6 (519) 747-1100

Sundays 1pm until the ramen runs out

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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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