👥 Recommended for:
- Anyone craving regional Japanese ramen in one place
- Those trying to eat healthy… but losing the battle to ramen
- People who always say “I’ll skip the soup”—and then don’t
- Folks who see ramen not just as food, but as a little journey
- Anyone who attaches memories or emotions to what they eat
- 50-somethings who still believe in being honest about what tastes good
🎯 What This Article Is About
In this post, I share my honest experience as a man in his 50s who visited the Yokohama Ramen Museum and tried three mini bowls of ramen.
Ever wanted to taste different flavors but worried about your health? You’re not alone.
This article dives into the flavors of the broth, the texture of the noodles, and the unique identity of each bowl—all from a personal, real-life perspective.
If you’re a ramen lover who also hesitates just a little… I hope this story resonates with you.
🍜 Intro
In my last blog post, I wrote that I might go someday to the Yokohama Ramen Museum.
Well… that “someday” finally arrived.
I’m in my 50s. My blood pressure isn’t what it used to be. And let’s be honest—my stomach’s capacity isn’t either.
Still, standing in front of the ticket machine, something in me whispered,
“Why not go for three?”
This is the story of how that quiet little whisper turned into me… slurping down three bowls. Yes, soup and all.
🟨 Chapter 1: Couldn’t Stop. Drank Every Drop.
In my last post, I said I wanted to visit the Ramen Museum someday.
Well, yesterday—I finally did it.
I went with the plan to try mini-sized bowls. You know, just a little taste of each.
Health in mind, blood pressure concerns, middle-aged wisdom… I swore I’d leave the soup behind.
But nah.
The moment I took my first sip, it slipped out of my mouth—
“Holy crap… this is amazing.”
It wasn’t just good. It was brain-zapping.
The heat of the broth shot up from my tongue to the top of my head, short-circuiting every logical thought.
Rich, balanced, full of umami. Too complete to resist.
I thought, “Mini-sized? This is a full-course punch in the face!”
By the end of that first bowl, I already knew:
“Yeah… I’m finishing all of these.”
That voice inside wasn’t reason—it was instinct.
“C’mon, you’re in your 50s. You’ve got blood pressure and triglycerides to worry about.”
Yeah, that voice got steamrolled by three bowls of temptation.
In the end, I drank every last drop.
I could see the clean bottom of the bowls—like trophies.
Sure, I felt a little gross afterward… but not a hint of regret.
Because those soups weren’t meant to be left behind.
They were magic. Liquid spells.
🟥 Chapter 2: First Bowl — Not What I Expected, But Dang It Was Good.
My first bowl? “Hakata Bunpuku.”
Honestly, I didn’t research it much.
I figured, “It says miso… maybe some retro street-stall vibes?”
But when it came out—totally different from what I imagined.
Sure, it looked like miso ramen… but the moment I sipped the broth, my brain went,
“Wait… this ain’t just miso.”
Yes, the miso was there—but deeper, layered with something rich and soulful.
Like miso × tonkotsu × dashi in a triple backflip combo.
I don’t know the structure. All I know is, my spoon didn’t stop.
The noodles were a surprise too—thin and thick ones mixed together.
It was like ramen roulette: “Oh! Thin. Whoa, thick!”
That texture play actually made me grin while eating.
The toppings—char siu, wood ear mushrooms—weren’t trying to steal the show.
They were solid sidekicks.
Because the real star? The soup. A full-blown lead role.
And then came the crime.
I ended up slurping down the whole soup.
Not just mine… my wife’s too.
She gave me that look.
You know—the one where it’s part disbelief, part “medical professional in silent judgment.”
Like she was drafting a clinical note in her head:
“Patient: Male, 50s. Repeated incident of soup overconsumption. Possible chronic condition.”
But I couldn’t help it.
Blood pressure, cholesterol—those words evaporated.
This miso ramen?
Had a power way beyond miso.
From the first spoonful, it had me off-balance.
And from there, my pace was wrecked. Gloriously so.
🟩 Chapter 3: It Was Just Broth… But Felt Like a Full Meal — Rishiri Ramen Miraku
The second bowl? “Rishiri Ramen Miraku,” straight from Rishiri Island, Hokkaido.
Even though it was a mini-sized bowl, the aroma was massive.
The moment it landed on the table, steam rose up and hit my nose like a tidal wave.
“Whoa… this kombu is on a rampage.”
Instantly, my brain switched to “Japanese cuisine mode.”
The first sip? Game over.
It hit hard but stayed smooth—
like being gently punched in the face by kindness.
A kind of umami slap I didn’t see coming.
Then it happened—
In my mind, a steaming bowl of white rice appeared.
My brain screamed,
“Pour this broth over rice. Now.”
A mental reel of kombu-chazuke played out, complete with CG steam.
I almost ordered rice.
But no—I had a three-bowl mission.
Rice would’ve knocked me out early.
So I resisted.
Which made every following sip feel even better.
It was like the broth knew I was holding back and decided to reward me.
“Is kombu umami some kind of emotional blackmail?”
Each sip gave me more flavor, more depth, more everything.
I think the noodles were curly… maybe?
Honestly, the broth was such a show-stealer, I forgot the noodles.
All I remember is my brain staging an elaborate fantasy:
Gently scooping rice into the bowl… letting it soak… and taking a bite with a spoon.
I didn’t actually do it.
But in my mind?
It tasted perfect.
That was my forbidden finale: a brain-powered kombu chazuke.
🟥 Chapter 4: The Final Blow — Hakata Issou’s Rich Tonkotsu Punch
Bowl number three — the finisher — came from Hakata Issou.
By this time, my internal sodium meter was deep in the red.
A quiet voice inside me whispered,
“Maybe… it’s time to stop?”
But then another voice—louder, reckless—yelled,
“No way. If you skip Issou now, you’ll regret it forever.”
Before I knew it, my finger had already pressed the ticket machine.
And the one I chose?
Of course, it was the richest-looking one on the menu.
When it arrived, my nose got punched—lovingly—by that classic tonkotsu funk.
“Ugh… that smell… but it’s kinda amazing…!!”
My brain? Totally glitched.
The foamy surface of the broth looked like a cappuccino.
One sip, and the rich liquid clung to my tongue.
It slithered down my throat, slow and silky.
“Whoa… this is addictive…”
I muttered without meaning to.
By now, I’d already slurped up two full bowls of broth.
My stomach was sending out SOS signals.
But my brain?
It had already been hacked.
Tonkotsu funk had reprogrammed my neurons:
“Porky smell = happiness.”
“High blood pressure? Don’t care!”
“Too strong? That’s the point!”
I was completely under ramen’s spell.
And yes, I drank the broth.
All of it. Again.
As I stared at the bubbly surface, I actually chuckled.
“Yup. I got destroyed.”
But deep down, I thought:
“Stinky is tasty.”
It’s a weird concept. But somehow, totally true.
That’s the magic of Hakata tonkotsu.
🟪 Final Thoughts: The Irresistible Spell of Ramen
At first, I had a plan:
“Let’s take it easy. Mini bowls only. Leave the broth.”
I was thinking about my blood pressure, my health—
I really thought I’d stay in control.
But one sip was all it took.
My logic vanished, like steam from the bowl.
Ramen isn’t just about flavor.
It’s the aroma, the color, the texture of the noodles, the vibe of the place—
It’s an all-senses experience. A storm.
And I didn’t stand a chance.
I ended up drinking every drop from all three bowls,
fighting off the urge to order rice,
yet still watching the bottom of each bowl like it was a holy grail.
Honestly? I was grateful.
It was that good.
Yeah, I felt a bit off afterward.
But no regrets.
Because those broths weren’t meant to be left behind.
🍜 From “Hakata Bunpuku” — A surprising dance of miso and tonkotsu, with thick and thin noodles taking turns.
🟢 From “Rishiri Ramen Miraku” — A kelp-powered aroma that summoned rice fantasies.
🔴 From “Hakata Issou” — The funky, foamy tonkotsu that rewired my brain.
Every bowl whispered the same message:
“You’ll come back.”
I do want to eat more.
But even if my brain says yes,
my 50-something body quietly says,
“Let’s take a breather.”
Because no matter how old I get,
Ramen still wins.
I’ve been hooked since I was a kid.
“Supersized, please.”
🟡 Related Articles You Might Enjoy
🍥 “Why Now? A 50-Something’s Take on the Yokohama Ramen Museum”
→ The story behind why I decided to finally visit the museum. A nostalgic dive into retro Japan that resonates with Gen Xers.
🍜 “Why I’m Drawn to ‘Proper’ Ramen Shops – The Charm of the ‘Chan-kei’ Style”
→ There’s something comforting about ramen that’s “just right.” The taste, the atmosphere—it all stays with you.
💪 “Training for My Health Check – Jogging Toward a Second Bowl”
→ If you’ve ever found yourself finishing the soup… this one’s for you. Move your body, so you can keep enjoying ramen!
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