(Photo by Patrick Ciccarone)
I have been living in Japan now for almost 10 years, and when one lives in The Land of the Rising Sun for that long, one reaches a certain point where they question their own ability to discern what constitutes ‘good’ ramen – truly a first world problem, I’m sure.
For those who have not had the pleasure of eating authentic Japanese ramen - and I don’t mean the bright-yellow bricks that come in plastic bags found in your local supermarket – it is a noodle dish served in piping-hot broth topped with pork, various vegetables (and sometimes an egg), that has roots tracing back to ancient China. The word "ramen" is the Japanese borrowing of the Mandarin Chinese word lāmiàn, meaning 'pulled noodles'.
Throughout the 20th century and beyond, Japan has taken the dish to every corner of the country, giving each ramen a distinctly different taste, soup, noodle style, etc. for every prefecture or region.
Thinking I had already found the holy grail of ramen years prior (something I would swear to many times over, only to have my assertions constantly challenged) the search for new restaurants or versions of Japan’s famous noodle dish had, for me, lost its luster. What new taste could possibly exist that I had not yet tried, or how much further could one perfect the act of making ramen?
A mistake on my part – as for the umpteenth time I have once again underestimated Japan’s ability to keep me on my toes (or at least stomach), although in this instance it wasn’t destiny who laid out my next ramen destination – it was my co-worker at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers – Japan Engineer District (USACE JED) Yokota Resident Office (YRO).
“I hate giving my favorite ramen joint up,” Daniel Kirby, a construction control representative at the YRO, confessed to me over the phone.
The words barely manage to leave the receiver, as if he were holding the information ransom. As a foodie, I sympathize, but my resolve on all-things ramen is intense and my deadline on this article is tight.
“Menya Tamura is in my ‘Top 3 ramen’ in Fussa,” Kirby finally admits. “Everyone in the YRO knows this place, so it’s not a secret.”
Menya Tamura (麺や田むら), established in 2017, is a Fussa City ramen restaurant located about 15-minutes outside of Yokota Air Base’s main Fussa Gate. Most locally renowned for their Shoyu-based broth and Chuka Chinese-style noodles, the unassuming building is a gem for those ‘in the know.’
Kirby, a former U.S. Airman-turned government civilian who was stationed in northern Japan’s Misawa Air Base when he was younger, knows Japan in a way very similar to myself – long-term residents develop a tongue for ramen after a while of beating the streets, so I trust his endorsement.
However, as important as it is knowing what ‘good’ ramen is, it’s almost as important knowing what establishments are open to foreign clientele (as some businesses are not accepting of customers who are not Japanese, or are familiar with their etiquette), but luckily, Menya Tamura is well acquainted with Americans and foreigners alike.
“[Tamura-san, the restaurant’s owner] only speaks Japanese but will explain how to eat [his dishes] for first timers,” advised Kirby. “His biggest hit with Americans is the tsukemen (dipping noodles), but it’s not my cup of tea.”
There’s a pause that, intentional or not, brings my anticipation to its boiling point. There’s an unwritten yet understood law among those who indulge, that if you’re willing to give up a prized location for eats, you must also advise on what to eat. Information must be given to completion. It’s the law of the land.
“My cup of tea is the Tantanmen – I get it every time,” Kirby eventually gives up. “The broth is almost as thick as peanut butter and is crazy rich. There are whole chunks of walnut. Amazing!”
Tantanmen, the Japanese version of China’s Sichuan Dan Dan noodles, or mien, is a rich, savory dish often combining sesame or peanut paste, along with ingredients like soy milk and chili oil. This style of noodle is found at many Japanese-owned restaurants as a compliment to the more ‘strictly-Japanese’ option of ramen.
As I consider myself a ramen connoisseur, there is a list of needs to be met before I make a trip to a particular restaurant: ‘type of broth’ and ‘level of spice’ – with Menya Tamura’s porridge-like soup and added chili oil, I was already entering the address into Google Maps and finding a route.
For those of us who live closer to JED’s headquarters in Zama City, the trek to Yokota and Fussa takes about 1 1/2 hours without the use of toll roads. While I normally wouldn’t make a journey like that just for ramen, the drive (or train ride) to the suburbs of Tokyo is remarkable in that you can slowly watch the greenery and open areas of Sagamihara and Zama turn into the compact, gray metropolis Fussa, and Tokyo are better known for.
Arriving to the restaurant is easy enough. There are no roads (especially if using public transportation) that require you to be creative with navigation, but finding the building and even parking, proved to be a minor surprise for me.
Kirby had noted that the restaurant itself was small, but I didn’t necessarily expect it to have only 4 parking spaces.
Located adjacent to a Family Mart convenience store, with a bright red Coca-Cola bench in front, Menya Tamura’s building doesn’t really resemble a restaurant at all. Despite the large menu in front of their door, in both English and Japanese, and flags with their logo fluttering everywhere, you could very easily mistake this for an average Japanese apartment.
“Irrashaimase!” (Welcome!) The elderly man’s voice cuts through the silence of the packed room. Seated at the bar counter-style table are 7 individuals, quietly indulging in Tamura’s concoctions. The restaurant is bright and immaculate, owed to the fact most of it is made of finely sanded cedar wood, and that Tamura-san has arranged everything methodically.
Much like many other ramen restaurants in Japan, Tamura utilizes a ticket-vending machine to take orders. The contrast of Menya Tamura’s beautifully clean interior provides me a moment of dissonance, as I personally equate vending machines to more ‘greasy spoon’ types of restaurants.
“You have to be ready for the long line, especially during lunch time though,” Antonio Castro, a project engineer at the YRO, whom Kirby first took to the restaurant last year, had advised me when I plied the YRO staff for information. “The staff are foreign-friendly, and I have been there around three times already. I would readily recommend it to others.”
Although their menu items on the machine are written exclusively in kanji, the restaurant can provide guidance in English if requested. My mouth already watering, I select Dan Kirby’s fabled ‘rich miso tantanmen,’ for a reasonable price of just over 1000 yen ($8.00).
Upon giving the order ticket to the staff at the counter, I was amazed to see Tamura-san and his kitchen staff at work. Bottles and vials of different seasonings and oils, along with sliced and smoked meats, stopwatches all set at different intervals – if these were the instruments, then Tamura-san is the conductor.
Lithe and wearing a serious expression, Tamura-san used to be a salaryman for an elite business and grew tired of the day-in and day-out, wanting to try his hand at ramen, a passion.
After years of training at a ramen school headed by prestigious ramen chefs, Tamura opened his own shop in 2017, where it has become a hit with the local Fussa community, both Japanese and American.
The conversation about his past was informative, if not brief – it lasted exactly two-minutes and 40-seconds, the precise time it took for my order’s noodles to boil, the thick broth to be bowled, and the whole dish to be assembled.
Tamura-san had, in that span of time, meticulously created a presentation worthy of a magazine cover.
The maestro handed me my bowl saying, “I hope you enjoy it!” His inflection didn’t convey a plea, it was full of confidence.
Outside of the immediate waft of warm, rich, sesame you inhale when receiving the miso tantanmen, the first thing you will notice is the precise placement of the toppings in the bowl. Much like a Jackson Pollock painting, sharp, jagged strands of chili and onion provide the reds and whites for the dish against the orange-brown ‘peanut butter’ soup.
The noodles, carefully cascaded in their ceramic house, are thin, with a chewiness akin to freshly-baked bread – when you bite into them, there is a spongy give, followed by a quick dissolve. The one-minute and 20-seconds cook time has clearly been scientifically tried-and-tested for perfection.
After my first bite and sip of soup, my first thought was “Dan, you were right to want to keep this place secret.”
But despite the secret of Menya Tamura being a well-known one, the real appeal to the restaurant is the whole experience. Sure, the tantanmen is fantastic, and if I’m ever in the Fussa area again, I will stop by for a second round, but beyond that, it’s the entire package.
Menya Tamura is, for lack of a better term, a very Japanese establishment. Its immaculate, precise, design of the interior, complete with meticulously placed ingredients and items for customers presents the stereotypical image of ‘Japanese’ attention-to-detail. The ramen, all artfully arranged and prepared, paints a picture of a chef who is truly dedicated to providing not only a fantastic meal, but also an aesthetic experience to whomever wanders through his front door.
While I won’t spoil the taste of the ramen I had (it was amazing), I will encourage you to get out-and-about and make a stop at this foreign-friendly ramen restaurant, well-known to the YRO and American community, and soon to be by you as well.
Menya Tamura is closed every Monday, and open from Tuesday – Sunday, 11:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m., and again from 5:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m.
