Undeniably one of the most globally adored noodles and a true cultural icon, Japanese ramen has a cult following numbering in the millions, if not billions. 

With dozens of regional varieties – from tonkotsu to shio, tsukemen to shoyu, miso to tantanmen – ramen differs by not only flavor and thickness of broth (the most essential and time/effort consuming part of each piping bowl) but also toppings, noodle type, presentation, and spice level.

Although recognized today as a classic Japanese dish, ramen’s origin story begins in China, only making its way to Japan in 1859 following the Meiji Restoration, according to The Japanese Culinary Institute. The word ‘ramen’ itself is derived from the Chinese 'la mian' (拉面), translated as ‘pulled noodles.’ 

So, we’re not shocking anyone when we report that Shanghai is no stranger to the ramen craze, with thousands of venues serving ramen within the city limits, according to China’s food bible, Dianping. From the izakayas of Gubei to the shining lights of the Bund, from the leafy tree-lined lanes of Xuhui to the bustling backstreets of Jing’an, ramen reigns supreme. 

We’ve rounded up our top ten ramen must-visits around town in no particular order (as the style we crave on any given day depends on the time, season, stomach space, dining partners, astrological alignment of Mars and Jupiter, and the unpredictably impulsive whim of our current mood) plus a bonus ramen ice cream. 

Yes, you read that correctly. 

Ramen ice cream. 

Read on, you hopeless ramen-tics.

Bari Uma |  霸吗拉面 (Ba Ma La Mian)

While Shanghai has dozens of ramen shops within downtown alone – each sporting its own secret recipe – we find ourselves gravitating towards Hiroshima-based chain Bari Uma (霸吗拉面), a tonkotsu ramen shop with franchises spanning Greater China to Southeast Asia to Australia.

It’s a popular one, and for good reason

The stodgier (and saltier) Tonkotsu Pork Bone Ramen (RMB48) glosses each noodle, with toppings including: a hefty slab of pork belly chashu – impregnated by grill smoke that seeps into both the meat and perimeter ribbon of fat; an adeptly cooked Japanese egg with a yolk the color of the sun; crunchy pickled bamboo with a sour funk to cut through the soup’s concentrated porkiness; and a boatload of scallions for a kick of sharp freshness. 

An overall epic kuai-to-calorie conversion rate, diners can also add on Fried Chicken (RMB20-23) or Claypot Rice (RMB40-48) to round out a full meal. 

Bari Uma 霸吗拉面, B1-T104, 1038 Nanjing Xi Lu, 南京西路1038号B1-T104.

Bastard

Modern-day food rebels without a cause, Bastard owners and DongXi cofounders – chef Michael Janczewski (Juke) and his business (and life) partner Jiro H – aim to be the antithesis to everyday Chinese street food.

After winning over the Shanghai masses with their experimental, contemporary Chinese concept, the pair have broadened their daytime horizons into the wonderful world of lunch offerings, with four ‘bastardized’ – hence the venue name – noodle bowls.

Off the bat, all four of the carb-laden plates orbit the same Sapporo-style alkaline ramen noodles, cold-imported straight from the source (Japan, duh). A chewier, thicker noodle than its Shanghainese counterpart, its crinkly irregularity makes it all the easier to soak up whatever sauce or broth it’s served in.

“Focusing mainly on the Shanghainese and Guangdong pulled noodle flavors that influenced Japanese ramen the most, our aim with the newly launched lunch noodles is to bastardize something that has already been bastardized,” explains Chef Michael, slurping a slippery chili oil noodle. 

There’s Scallion Aburasoba (RMB68) – an amalgamation of the city’s beloved scallion oil noodles (cong you ban mian 葱油拌面) and Japanese aburasoba (or soup-less ramen made with a simple, pantry-staple sauce of soy and pork lard); Bastard Wonton Noodles (RMB88) embodying a Japanese chicken tonkotsu broth-meets-Cantonese wonton soup...

...Chongqing Xiao Mian Mazesoba (RMB68) featuring the same chicken tonkotsu base as the wonton noodles, augmented by lip-numbing Sichuan peppercorn chili oil; and the Shredded Chicken Cold Noodles (RMB58) with squiggly strands tossed in a sesame paste, plus shredded chicken soup-poached breast and thigh meat, alongside julienned cucumber, cilantro, pickled bamboo and a velvety yolk egg. 

Bastard, Room 102, #30, 319 Jiaozhou Lu, by Xinzha Lu, 胶州路313弄, 30号102室, 近新闸路.

Kushi Ramen | 纪州豚骨酱油拉面 (Ji Zhou Tun Gu Jiang You La Mian)

One of Shanghai’s standout tonkotsu ramens (in our humble opinion) is served at Kushi Ramen (纪州豚骨酱油拉面), an unassuming yakitori and ramen den. Here the Tonkotsu (RMB53) broth is soul-warmingly creamy, and boasting hearty pork bone overtones. The pork belly chashu’s fat melts into the meat’s layers, unctuous on one side, charred to a pleasant scorch on the other.

While we initially opted for the more wanghong Scallion Tonkotsu (RMB47) – essentially the same as the original sans a few toppings and plus a metric f*ck ton of scallions – it’s more gimmick than good as the pepperiness of the scallions overpower the true star – the fragrant broth and silky noodles. 

Pro Tip: While the original tonkotsu includes a six-minute ramen egg, the scallion tonkotsu does not. However, do not skip said egg. 

We repeat, do not skip the egg. 

Hell, order three; we promise it’s worth it for that indulgently yolky ooze. 

Kushi Ramen 纪州豚骨酱油拉面, Shop 41, B1, No. 239 Jinyan Lu, 锦延路329号地下一楼41铺.

Sake Ichi Oden| 酒一关东煮酒场 (Jiu Yi Guandong Zhu Jiu Chang)

Restaurateur Henry To and business partner Michael Tao opened Sake Ichi Oden (酒一关东煮酒场) at the beginning of last November – a dimly lit, all wood-outfitted space on Shaanxi Nan Lu doling out steaming bowls of Japanese comfort soup (called oden) just in time for winter, further expanding their Sake-X Group Japanese-leaning foodie empire.

Feather Weight Chicken Ramen (RMB58)

Aside from oden, yakitori and izakaya cold dishes, Sake Ichi Oden serves some carb-forward options, like Chicken Ramen (RMB58-98), with the price based on protein quantity – from chicken breast and chicken meatballs, to the addition of chicken wings, cuttlefish and abalone – in original or spicy miso varieties.

The substantially flavorsome broth uses repurposed 'waste' from the group's Sake Ichi Yakitori joint, boiling it into a warming stew that simmers with Iberico pork bones for eight hours to create a stock. The bowl is then chock-full of the customary toppings, like a gooey egg, silken egg noodles, sprouts and wakame salad.

Sake Ichi Oden, 35 Shanxi Nan Lu, by Jinxian Lu, 陕西南路35号, 近进贤路.

Kyoto Ichijoji Ramen Pork Man | 京都一乘寺拉面豚人 (Jing Du Yi Cheng Si La Mian Tun Ren)

It’s common to see a line snaking out the door, around the shop, and sometimes even down the block at Kyoto Ichijoji Ramen Pork Man (京都一乘寺拉面豚人), a casual noodle house with seating for less than 25 people. The menu is just four ramen broth options, three noodle choices, and the customization decisions for quantity of bean sprouts, garlic, and ramen sauce. Beyond that, there’s fried rice, fried chicken, and a chashu bowl. 

That’s it. 

Yet the shop is consistently full at all hours – a testament to the ramen’s authenticity. 

Each bowl of Ramen (RMB45) is plotted on the spectrum of heavy to light, listed (in order) as tonkotsu ramen (soy sauce), tonkotsu tamen (salt), soy sauce tonkotsu, and salt tonkotsu, the latter two of which are clearer, while the former two are akin to an umami bomb gravy. 

As for the noodles, the establishment’s most ordered variety is a wrinkly, slightly thinner Sapporo-style egg noodle, followed by a thin wheat noodle (like Shanghainese noodles found in cong you ban mian), and finally “dragon noodles” – flat with crinkled edges. 

All ramen comes with bean sprouts, garlic, pickled bamboo, half a ramen egg, and two kinds of pork belly (one that’s braised and another that’s glazed in a sticky sweet sauce then torched so the fat bubbles and melts while the meat shirks away in pleats). 

Each bowl is meticulously made to order, a labor of love we’d wait for any time.

Kyoto Ichijoji Ramen Pork Man, Room 151, #10, 100 Yejiazhai Lu, by Changshou Lu, 叶家宅路100号创享塔园区10幢1层151室, 近长寿路.

Ieyasu Izakaya | 家康居酒屋 (Jiakang Ju Jiuwu)

A Japanese establishment famed for its ropey udon noodles dunked in Tsukemen Ramen (RMB45/small, RMB52/large), Ieyasu Izakaya (家康居酒屋) offers nine different soup bases – miso, hot miso, soy sauce, hot soy sauce, sesame, hot sesame, curry, tomato and cheese, and kimchi. 

Each bowl arrives packed with chashu pork, a soft-boiled egg, pickled bamboo, cabbage, nori shreds, and – unexpectedly – a stuffed fried rice ball, like a Japanese arancini, if there was such a thing. 

As it’s meant for dipping, the broth is notably sticky so as to coat all ramen accoutrement in porky goodness, tempered by an umami seafood flavor owed to kombu. 

More like a stew, the ramen here hugs the line of overly smoky, and the floating shredded pork pieces make for a murky soup. Although not the most refined bowl of ramen, the decadent broth coupled with expertly al dente noodles scores this bowl a solid 7/10 for moreish magnitude on the ramen Richter scale.

Ieyasu Izakaya 家康居酒屋, Shop 4, No. 48 Xingyi Lu, 兴义路48号4号商铺.

Qizheng Japanese Tonkotsu Ramen | 柒鉦·日式豚骨拉麵 (Qi Zheng Ri Shi Tun Gu La Mian) 

A popular ramen outpost on Yuyao Lu in Jing’an, Qizheng Japanese Tonkotsu Ramen (柒鉦·日式豚骨拉麵) is first and foremost visited for the noodles alone – eggy alkaline ribbons. The broth is a close second – the Original Ramen (RMB47) being ultra-rich yet not overly filling. 

Chopped scallions, wakame salad, fish cakes, half a soft-boiled egg, pickled bamboo, roasted pork belly and a nori sheet are all included in each brimming bowl, with add-on’s available for a nominal fee. 

Aside from original, there’s Butter Miso (RMB52) – overtly buttery, like an extra squirt on movie theater popcorn; Yuzu Black Pepper (RMB47) – where the copious quantity of said black pepper overpowers the palate; Black Garlic Tonkotsu (RMB47); and Japanese Style Dan Dan (RMB43), among a few others. 

While the noodles are noteworthy and the egg is jammy, our main gripe is with the chashu – grilled to the point of dryness, so the smoky aroma is overshadowed by rubbery meat and unchewable, unrendered fat. 

Qizheng Japanese Tonkotsu Ramen | 柒鉦·日式豚骨拉麵, 182 Yuyao Lu, by Changde Lu, 余姚路182号,近常德路.

King BBQ | King 大志烤肉黑毛牛专门店 (Da Zhi Kao Rou Hei Mao Niu Zhuan Men Dian)

One of Gubei’s top options for Japanese BBQ, King BBQ (大志烤肉黑毛牛专门店) covers all the bases and then some with BBQ meat sets to carbs to cold dishes and everything in between. 

On the carbs front, there’s tonkotsu-style Ramen (RMB58), one that hones in on incredibly QQ (springy) cylindrical strands swimming in a pungent pork bone broth. A whole (rather than just half) soft-boiled egg rests atop the folded noodles, along with two hunks of smoked and sweet-braised chashu pork belly, plus nori sheets and chopped scallions. 

While we’re not necessarily singing King BBQ’s ramen gospel through the streets, this is still a commendable option that hits every note just right. 

King BBQ, King大志烤肉黑毛牛专门店, 693 Xianxia Lu, by Weining Lu, 仙霞路693号, 近威宁路. 

Kingichi | 無双东京 (Wu Shuang Dong Jing)

Kingichi (無双东京) is a small ramen outpost with essentially just one bar counter for passing out bowls of – you guessed it – just five kinds of ramen and some equally righteous Iberico Pork Tonkatsu (RMB58) (panko breaded and fried pork cutlets) not be confused with tonkotsu (a pork bone broth ramen soup base). 

There’s both Tonkotsu (RMB77) and Spicy Tonkotsu (RMB66), plus a White Chicken Ramen (RMB55), a Seafood Ramen (RMB88) with pork chashu and salmon roe, and San Liang Ramen (RMB88) with pork belly, a prawn, and abalone. 

The tonkotsu broth is luscious, replete with wavy, medium-thickness noodles, a whole ramen egg, abundant chopped scallions, pickled bamboo, and thinly sliced, lightly seared pork belly. The spicy tonkotsu sees the same add-ons, in a sesame seed and chili oil lined soup, either making for a sure-fire win, if you find yourself near People’s Square.

Kingichi 無双东京, 252 Guangxi Bei Lu, by Hankou Lu, 广西北路252号, 近汉口路.

Ramen Mitsuyoshi | 满吉 (Man Ji) 

With six locations around Shanghai (each focusing on pork tonkotsu broth, except the location in K11 that sees six varieties of chicken broth ramen), it’s fair to say that Ramen Mitsuyoshi (满吉) is a bit of an institution. Recognized by their signature imprinted nori sheets (that say ‘thank you’ in more than 10 languages) slipped along the side of each bowl of ramen served, Ramen Mitsuyoshi is textbook in nearly every way. 

The nine Ramen (RMB52-68) offerings run the gamut: there’s original pork tonkotsu, numbing spicy tonkotsu, chili spice tonkotsu, seaweed tonkotsu, black garlic, Japanese style dan dan, scallion, and so on.  

The noodles are bouncy with the perfect chew, especially when glistening with robust bone broth. Adorned with a soft-boiled egg, a generous portion of scallions, a fish cake, and a wagon-wheel of tender pork belly, this is one bowl of ramen worth rearranging your weekend plans for. 

Ramen Mitsuyoshi 满吉, 501-2 Liyuan Lu, by Jumen Lu, 丽园路501号-2号, 近局门路.

Bonus: Shi Teng Ka Fei | 石藤咖啡 

Ramen isn’t exactly fusion friendly when said fusion relates to dessert. Yet People’s Square Park-adjacent café Shi Teng Ka Fe (石藤咖啡) has decided to give it a go with their Soy Sauce Ice Cream (RMB48) – a ramen-inspired icy treat. From the get-go, the soy sauce-laced ice cream (as the name suggests) comes together in a salty-sweet balance we can really get behind. 

But you start to lose us with the addition of a raw egg cracked on top, one that oozes egg white and slightly freezes from coming into ice cream contact, resulting in an unpleasant mucus-like mouthfeel. Furthermore, fluttering bonito flakes add an unwelcome fishy aroma we don’t tend to seek out when a sugar high is on the mind. 

But, nori is where it all turns around – the underdog that saves the dish – as the innate umami undertones of seaweed coupled with the contrasting crunch has us wondering why seaweed ice cream hasn’t caught on yet as Shanghai’s latest trend. 

Unconventional? Yes. 

Delicious? Also yes. 

While we probably won’t return for another round of this particular ramen-inspired ice cream, you may just catch us sprinkling seaweed atop our next ice cream cone, so we are still chalking this one up as a win. 

Shi Teng Ka Fei 石藤咖啡, 20-3 Weihai Lu, by Huangpi Bei Lu, 威海路20号-3, 近黄陂北路.