The one bowl of ramen to rule them all

this is gonna be the hottest ticket in town

Hi, everyone!

I don’t know about you, but the only ramen I ever had growing up was the instant kind. I grew up with Nong Shim Neoguri and Shin ramen (we Koreans call it ramyeon), and it took me well into my adulthood to realize that real ramen doesn’t come out of a package with broth powder. Late bloomer, I know.

But you’re going to hear people chattering about ramen a bunch now, because my friend Mike Satinover has finally opened up his long-anticipated ramen shop, Akahoshi Ramen.

The term “akahoshi” roughly translates into “red star,” which is Mike’s nod to Sapporo, Japan (where red stars are affixed to city monuments), and Chicago, where we just so happen to have four red stars on our city flag. Clever.

I’ve known Mike for a very long time. Years ago, it must have been 2017 or so, he invited former Chicago Tribune critic Nick Kindlesperger over for dinner, and I got to tag along like a kid brother (let’s briefly ignore the fact that I’m older than both of them). He lived in Buena Park at the time, and I hung out with him and Nick in his tiny galley kitchen while he crafted us some gorgeous bowls of noodles, the likes of which I’d never seen.

Nick eventually wrote a feature on him for the paper, but the story is that Mike became interested in ramen when he lived for a year in Sapporo, where he ate it nearly every day. It wasn’t until he got back to the United States when he became interested in cooking it, because he realized that most of the ramen here just generally, well, sucks.

During his learning journey, he’d frequently post on Reddit, where he’s known as “Ramen__Lord,” and which is where he gained a lot of popularity. That name will always be hilarious to me; it’s so over the top, which is funny coming from someone who’s Instagram handle is @dickholedannis. He got so deep into the science of making ramen that calling it an “obsession” would be understating it. Scroll through his comments and posts, and it’s like trying to decipher hieroglyphics (case in point, here).

Years of pop-ups later, he finally gathered the resources to open up shop, and put his office days behind him. I was afraid I’d never get a chance to see Mike again when Akahoshi Ramen officially opened up, but Davida and I were able to sneak in for the soft opening, thanks to an invitation from former Chicago Tribune reporter Grace Wong. It was only fitting that we also went with Nick too.

In terms of the menu, it’s nice and tight, with no bullshit. There’s five cocktails and four types of ramen on the menu, along with a very tiny scattering of sides and extras, like extra noodles, a few rice bowls, and additional toppings. We ordered every bowl of ramen, because why not get our fill before the place gets so busy we can’t get back in?

The aburasoba ($18) is a soupless ramen, with extra thick noodles, and is flavored with garlic and soy sauce.

It’s topped with cubed pork belly chashu, green onions, fried shallots and garlic, and nori. Soupless ramen might not call your name right out the gate, but trust me, Akahoshi’s is worth getting.

Toss everything together and go to town—the aburasoba is a big play on textures, with those firm, bouncy, and chewy house-made noodles being almost meaty on their own, accompanied by fatty rich pork chunks, crisp fried alliums and fresh alliums, along with shreds of nori that soften when you mix it all together.

This one isn’t spicy, so if you’re spice-averse (you’re valid!) and willing to venture outside the soup zone, go for it.

Between the soupless bowls, the tantanmen ($18) is my favorite for a few reasons.

It features the same extra thick noodles as the aburasoba, and is topped with pork soboro (ground pork, I had to look that word up just now), tingly mala spice powder, and sesame paste. There’s also bok choi and green onions on it, and as you might guess, this bowl sure doesn’t hold back in terms of flavor.

What’s fun about this one is how the nuttiness of the sesame paste mixes in with the layers of spice from the mala powder and the chili oil. Each bite is rich and fiery, and those flavors don’t stop building until you finish the bowl—which’ll probably happen pretty quick.

I’d personally choose this one over the aburasoba mostly because of that hit of spice, but our table was at an even split when it came to which soupless bowl we liked better. I could certainly see the tantanmen being a good summer bowl to get you sweating (and therefore cooled off) on a hot day.

Now onto the traditional brothy bowls: This one’s the shoyu ($18.50), which has a clear soy sauce-based soup, and is made with Sapporo-style noodles. It’s topped with green onions, bamboo shoots, and pork belly chashu. An ajitama egg (soft-boiled and marinated egg) is an additional $2, which is a no-brainer of an addition.

Sapporo-style noodles are the crinkly kind I know from packages of instant ramen. Obviously, Akahoshi’s occupy a different sphere, especially because Mike makes all the noodles in-house using this intense monster of a machine, which is in the front window. Seriously, you need to see this thing. I met it close-up once and it’s some serious business. Unfortunately Mike wouldn’t let me throw foreign objects in it when I asked.

For noodles this thin, they sure have a nice bite to them, and they hang out in that tiny window where I’d call them perfectly cooked. They’re pleasantly chewy, but not underdone, and especially not mushy, which is usually how my instant ramen noodles get if (when) I get distracted and walk away from the stove.

One of the big things you’ll notice about this bowl is that it has a fish flavor to it, which I asked Mike about. It’s not that the stock used to make the sauce has fish in it (it’s actually chicken, like the miso bowl, which I’ll get to shortly), it’s because the tare, which is the concentrated seasoning mixture ladled into the bowl before the broth is added, has niboshi in it, which are dried sardines. The aroma oil added on top also contains green onions and additional niboshi.

(Don’t worry, this is my first time learning about this shit too, but that’s why I think it’s worth mentioning. If there’s anyone who will happily teach you about ramen, it’s Mike.)

The broth is as clean-tasting as it looks, and that hit of fish just makes it more complex and compelling to slurp down. Davida and Grace loved this one, and I can’t wait to go back and order a bowl of my own.

But if it’s your first time having Mike’s ramen, get the Akahoshi miso ($19).

This is the kind Mike has been obsessed over ever since I’ve known him, and the one he’s long sought to perfect. It’s the flagship bowl of the shop, made with those Sapporo-style noodles, along with a broth that’s seasoned with a blend of various misos. It’s topped with green onions, bamboo shoots, charred bean sprouts, and pork belly chashu.

I can’t say enough good things about this bowl of ramen. It’s bold, in your face, complex, salty, and the broth is like savory velvet. The soup clings to the noodles as you eat them, and drinking the rest of it is just sheer unadulterated pleasure. I seriously contemplated ordering another bowl, but I didn’t want to have to remove my belt in front of everyone.

I might still new to ramen overall, but I would not be surprised if this is as good as it gets in Chicago. You may start hearing the same thing from lots of people.

And one last thing. About those eggs. Oh, man, I’d love when Mike held pop-ups at Paulie Gee’s, even if I couldn’t attend, because he usually had extra eggs leftover which we stored in the walk-in cooler. During restaurant service when I had to replenish ingredients like dough, I’d go back there with a spoon, fish one out, and sneak it in as a snack. I think I ate four in one night once.

In terms of sides, there are very few, but that’s okay—you’re just here to get some ramen and savor it.

There’s a chopped chashu rice bowl ($8, which we didn’t get), but there’s also an ikura rice bowl ($15) that’s worth every penny if you like salmon roe. It comes with a ton of fish eggs on top, which are quite expensive in any given situation, so $15 is a killer price.

Our server told us that the pro move, once you’re finished with a soupless bowl of ramen, is to dump a bowl of rice ($3) into what’s left of the toppings. We thought we’d go hard, so we did this extravagantly with a bowl of ikura rice, and it did not disappoint. Think of it as a luxe version of Korean bibimbap.

So, here’s the thing you probably don’t want to hear. Akahoshi Ramen’s reservations are booked solid for at least two months now. The restaurant will release more every week, but your best bet is to try landing a walk-in seat. Fortunately, I’ve been reading that this winter’s weather could potentially be mild, so if there’s a line, you won’t freeze to death outside.

Since the restaurant is in Logan Square, though, you’ve got plenty of great places nearby within walking distance to hit up, like Paulie Gee’s (of course), vegan and vegetarian restaurant The Chicago Diner, Revolution Brewing’s brewpub, Daisies, Spilt Milk pop-up resident Umamicue, in case you can’t get in, among a bunch of other stellar shops. (I know it sucks, but always have a Plan B in a case like this.)

If you can’t get in, just keep trying, I promise it’s worth the effort. And normally you won’t see me doing much hype-chasing, since I usually like showcasing places that have been around for a while, but the thing is, Mike has been around for a long time. It’s just that now, you’ll get to visit him in his new home, and the whole city will finally get to try his food. No pop-up tickets necessary.

Akahoshi Ramen
2340 N California Ave Suite B
Chicago, IL 60647

Hours:
Tuesday - Saturday: 5 p.m. - 9 p.m.
Closed Sunday and Monday

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