The high-end restaurant business never really recovered from the recession, because, while the good times are rolling in Hogtown, our collective appetite for dropping 200 bucks on dinner for two will never recover its pre-2008 brio. There are still expensive restaurants, but the smart money is on cheaper places.
Which is why Kenzo Ramen's third restaurant, on Bloor West, was busy from Day One - nothing fills you up cheaper than noodles. Number three cleaves to the same simple formula as the first two Kenzos (one on Steeles and one on Dundas): Dinner for two cannot top $40. By tradition, ramen is built on a firm foundation of house-made noodles and broth with carefully composed garnishes. Any resemblance between fresh ramen and the packaged version is purely nominal. The latter is like moistened cardboard while the former fills you up tastefully - high thanks to the Japanese fealty to quality.
The new Kenzo Ramen fits right in with its Bloor and Spadina brethren, thanks to its upscale frat-house décor: Kirin Beer balloons, inflated beer mugs and paper lanterns. Maybe frat condo, thanks to white pleather banquettes, a glass vestibule to keep out winter drafts, and a couple of cheap crystal chandeliers. At the front there's a mechanical chopstick lifting a raft of noodles from a big bowl, over and over again, showcasing a Sisyphean slurp of ramen.
The menu offers slightly more variety than other ramen houses. There are additions such as takoyaki - baked octopus balls - and hot ramens, which are counterparts to the classic spicy red soups of Korea. The King of the Kings hot ramen is chili-red, packing a hot wallop, and has interesting innards - lightly charred white mushrooms and green onions - with raw green onions as well, for a secondary flavour and texture hit atop the standard garnish of noodles with bean sprouts, sweet fish cake, crispy nori seaweed and, of course, the half egg, a standard ramen topping. Usually it's too hard boiled, but at Kenzo the egg is cooked just enough for the yolk to congeal, but stay soft and moist. It's such a small thing, but so much pleasure flows from it.
For the chili-challenged, there is delicate golden broth in Sapporo ramen, lightly scented with miso and garnished with the usual (noodles, egg, bean sprouts, etc.), plus roasted carrots and bok choy. The only ramen to be avoided is Nagasaki Champon, ramen with overcooked seafood: New Zealand mussels, scallops, squid and unshelled shrimps. Neither the pleasantly smoky seafood broth nor the cloud-ear mushrooms nor any of the other charming garnishes changes that.
I judge a ramen shop by its tonkatsu, the white broth made rich and creamy from long boiling of pork bones. Kenzo's tonkatsu broth, while not quite as sweet as ramen house Niwatei's, is flavourful and rich. The garnish is classic - that ideal egg with bean sprouts, competent sliced pork, bamboo shoots, green onion, fish cake, bok choy, shreds of pickled ginger and oily finely chopped garlic.
But underneath everything is always the noodles. Ramen rises and falls on broth and noodles, and Kenzo does a credible dente house-made noodle. But caveat emptor: Do not order something without broth. When it's all about the noodles, as in their yakisoba, the thrill is gone. The ceremony of presentation on a hot iron plate (atop a wooden board) fails to disguise lacklustre sauce on an underpowered noodle-based stir-fry. Beyond ramen, stick to their fabulous gyoza, ungreasy fried dumplings stuffed with a lot of high-seasoned moist pork with plenty of green onion and a hint of hot.
As for ramen, it's the new pho. Ramen shops are suddenly proliferating in Toronto, not only because people are tired of expensive, but because noodles are the ultimate comfort food and, right now, that's what we need.