I have a memory of the most amazing ramen in Kyoto. It wasn't perhaps the best around, and I don't remember it being super sophisticated- but it came at just the right time. Winter. Cold drizzle and fog were upon us. We saw somebody exit this shop near us. When they opened the door, a cloud of steam blasted out and crystallized in the frozen air. We had to go in. Inside it was entirely wooden, a bit like you picture a mountain cabin. The atmosphere was foggy and the smell of broth so thick you'd swear you'd already started eating. I vaguely remember eggs, pork and onions. But the gist of this memory isn't any one specific ingredient, it is the incredible warmth of that moment.
this post was submitted on 05 Jul 2025
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