A Bowl of Tenkakê at Kirimugiya Jinroku (切麦や 甚六), an Udon Restaurant Found in Kanda, Tokyo

When I come to Tokyo, I've always gone straight for ramen, but this time I broke that habit. Kirimugiya Jinroku (切麦や 甚六), an udon restaurant tucked in a Kanda alley on the first fl…

Tokyo · Kirimugiya Jinroku

When I come to Tokyo, I've always gone straight for ramen, but this time I broke that habit. Kirimugiya Jinroku (切麦や 甚六), an udon restaurant tucked in a Kanda alley on the first floor of an office building, with just a white noren curtain hanging at the entrance. The only sign to speak of is a small black nameplate on the wall—so inconspicuous that even after Google Maps told me I'd arrived, I walked past it twice. I went in at five-thirty in the evening, just as dinner service was beginning.

The entrance of Jinroku with a white noren on the first floor of the building, a yellow wall with a black framed nameplate and wooden bench, and a red Ebisu beer sign next to it
The noren displays '甚六', with 'Jinroku' in smaller letters below. It's an ordinary office building's first floor, where mailboxes on the left show markings for the 4th, 5th, and 8th floors.

A wooden bench sits to the left of the entrance—this is where the waiting line forms during the dinner rush. Of the six frames hung on the wall, five are small windows giving views into the restaurant. When the evening lights come on, the yellow walls take on a subtle warmth. Without the red Ebisu beer sign out front, I would have taken the place for a gallery.

Read the Glass Menu Board by the Door Before You Go In

It's best to read the Japanese menu posted in the glass frame on the right before heading in. Once seated, ordering takes time. Cold udon (冷たいうどん) and hot udon (温かいうどん) are listed separately in vertical writing, with prices ranging from the 600-yen bracket to 1,200 yen. Hiyakakê udon 600 yen, zaru udon 600 yen, nikunbukkakê 900 yen, tempura udon 1,200 yen. It's noted that tempura toppings can be added separately starting at 150 yen per type.

Japanese vertical-script menu on a glass frame by the restaurant entrance, with prices for cold and hot udon listed from 600 to 1200 yen
Customers inside are visible through the glass reflection. Below are detailed notes about the restaurant's noodles, dashi, and soy sauce.

The fine print at the bottom of the menu is actually the most interesting. In handwritten script, it notes that the salt-water concentration in the flour is adjusted seasonally, that the dashi is made from Hokkaido kombu and Seto Inland Sea iriko, the soy sauce is from Shodo Island, and the mirin is from Aichi Prefecture. Hours are posted here too: lunch from 11:30 to 16:00, dinner from 17:30 to 23:00 (last order 22:00), and later on Fridays and Saturdays. That said, these details change easily, so I'd recommend confirming current information before your visit.

There's a Separate English Menu — And They Don't Take Cards

Once seated, you're given a separate English menu. It's divided into two sections—HOT UDON and CHILLED UDON—with photos included, so you can order without being able to read Japanese. The hot options are: oyakokaké (親かけ) 950 yen, tenkakê (天かけ) 1,200 yen, kamatama (釜玉) 700 yen, kamāge (釜あげ) 600 yen. Add mentai (cod roe) to the kamatama for 900 yen.

English HOT UDON menu with photos of oyakokaké, tenkakê, kamatama, and kamāge with prices, and a Most popular star marking next to tenkakê
The hot udon menu. Tenkakê at 1,200 yen bears the 'Most popular' star.

The three lines at the bottom of the chilled udon menu are actually the most important. First, dishes can take about 15 minutes to arrive. Second, there's no sake menu—you choose directly from the display case. And third, they don't accept cards, only cash. Finding out that card-free establishments still exist in central Tokyo while calculating the bill is inconvenient. I had only a single 10,000-yen note in my wallet, but fortunately the change came back smoothly.

English CHILLED UDON menu with photos of tenzaru, oyabu, and hiyakakê with prices, and notes at the bottom stating 15 minutes wait time, sake selection from display, and cash only
Chilled udon: tenzaru 1,200 yen, oyabu 950 yen, hiyakakê 600 yen. Be sure to read those three lines at the bottom.

A Bowl of Tenkakê — The Broth Surprised Me with Its Clarity

I ordered the tenkakê. It arrived on a wooden tray with the udon bowl, tempura plate, condiment dishes, and wooden spoon all in their proper places. The chopstick sleeve also bears the restaurant's logo and 'Jinroku'. I expected the broth to be clear in the Kansai style, but its color was a deep brown—deeper than I anticipated. One taste confirmed it wasn't salty. The color came from soy sauce, but the primary flavor was the umami of iriko broth. The first spoonful brought not saltiness, but the aroma of dried fish.

A bowl of tenkakê udon served on a wooden tray with a brown broth udon bowl and a plate of shrimp and vegetable tempura, with a ceramic sake bottle and teacup in the background
Udon topped with negi and bonito flakes, with shrimp, pumpkin, and shiso tempura on the side plate. The small dish on the left holds grated ginger and yuzu peel powder.

The small dish on the left arrives divided between grated ginger and pale yellow yuzu peel powder. I recommend holding back and adding the ginger midway through eating—it transforms the broth's impression. Add just a pinch of the yuzu.

What You Learn When You Lift the Noodles

Lifting the noodles with chopsticks is when I became a convert. These aren't thick noodles with sharp edges like Sanuki udon; instead, they're broad, slightly flattened in cross-section. When lifted from the broth, they hold their shape without drooping. As you bite, there's an initial resistance, then a clean snap. The surface is smooth, the interior firm. Only then did I understand what they mean by 'smooth swallowing.'

Thick and flat udon noodles lifted with chopsticks from the broth, with a chilled udon tenzaru on a bamboo colander visible at another table in the background
The moment the noodles lift. In the background is my companion's tenzaru; cold noodles arranged neatly in a bamboo colander.

My companion ordered the chilled udon—tenzaru—and after a taste, I could tell that cold noodles show the noodles' elasticity more honestly. If two of you go, it's best for one to get hot and one to get cold. The restaurant's interior features light-colored wooden chairs and tables with relatively subdued lighting; it's quiet enough to hear neighboring tables' conversations. If you're expecting a bustling izakaya atmosphere, you might be surprised.

The Tempura Comes Freshly Fried

Looking at the tempura plate, you understand why the restaurant warns about 15-minute waits. When you pick up the shrimp tempura, the batter is thin and pale. The red vein of the shrimp is visible through the coating. When you bite, there's no loud crunch, just a quiet crispness, but the oil is never heavy. The paper beneath the plate bears hardly any grease marks.

Shrimp tempura held with chopsticks showing thin batter with the red shrimp vein visible through the coating, with pumpkin and eggplant tempura remaining on the plate
Shrimp tempura held with chopsticks, its batter thin and delicate; pumpkin and eggplant tempura remain on the plate, with a ceramic sake bottle and teacup in the background.

What impressed me most that day wasn't the shrimp, but the shiso tempura. A whole leaf, with batter applied delicately to just one side. Flip it over and the green veins remain perfectly intact. In your mouth, the shiso's characteristic peppery aroma comes first, before the richness of the fried coating. Eat one between sips of broth, and it cleanses the palate.

Shiso leaf tempura held with chopsticks, the jagged leaf edges and green veins clearly visible through the delicate batter coating
Shiso tempura. The finely sliced negi in the blue-patterned dish in the background is meant to be added to the udon as you like.

What to Know Before You Go

The Kanda area fills with salarymen after work, and every restaurant develops a line. Best to arrive before 6 p.m., or aim for the lull after 8 p.m. Next time I come, I'm thinking of trying the kamāge at 600 yen with just a couple of tempura on the side. With noodles this good, I think they deserve to be eaten simply boiled, without broth.

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