A 890-Yen Tonkotsu Bowl at Ichiran in Shinjuku 3-chome: Record of Two Visits, Day and Night

In Shinjuku 3-chome, Tokyo, an Ichiran sign hangs at the entrance of an alley where Aoto-ya and FamilyMart stand side by side. It's a natural tonkotsu ramen restaurant that origina…

Tokyo · Ichiran

In Shinjuku 3-chome, Tokyo, an Ichiran sign hangs at the entrance of an alley where Aoto-ya and FamilyMart stand side by side. It's a natural tonkotsu ramen restaurant that originated in Hakata, Fukuoka, and this location in Shinjuku serves as a gateway accommodating both tourists and commuters heading home. I visited once during the day and once at night. I witnessed the same shop showing a completely different face depending on the time of day.

The entrance of the Shinjuku 3-chome store during the day, with two staff members in red uniforms taking down the waiting list below the red circular Ichiran sign — Around noon. Two staff members in red uniforms were recording the wait list at the entrance. The address sign on the wall shows '3-chome Shinjuku 34-11'.

A placard at the entrance displayed the number '61' in large letters, indicating they had expanded seating to reduce wait times. In reality, during the day I waited about 5 minutes before being seated. The issue is at night.

Shinjuku street at night under neon lights, with crowds of people gathered in front of a sign distributing numbered tickets below the Ichiran sign, with Kintako Yokocho and Torikizoku signs visible in the adjacent building — Same location, at night. The placard at the entrance had changed to 'Distributing numbered tickets (seiri-ken)'. You can see Kintako Yokocho and Torikizoku signs from the adjacent building.

At night, instead of a line, they distribute numbered tickets. Once you get a ticket, you can walk around the area while waiting, but staff only give verbal instructions on when to return, so it's best to confirm the time clearly on the spot. I half-listened and walked around a nearby convenience store for about 15 minutes, only to find my number had already been called.

Location and Access — East Exit of Shinjuku Station, Just One Turn Down an Alley

It's a 5 to 7-minute walk from the East Exit of JR Shinjuku Station, and even closer from Shinjuku-sanchome Station. The ground floor entrance is narrow, so first-time visitors often walk past it. Look for two white signs hanging vertically on the wall: "天然とんこつ" (Natural Tonkotsu) and "超生麺" (Super Fresh Noodles). The shop is up a set of stairs.

A neon sign on the stairway wall. It reads '24 Hours, Open Year-Round'. Hours may vary by location, so it's recommended to check in person for other branches.

The "24-hour operation" sign is what keeps this location in mind. Even at 2 AM when you've been drinking late in Shinjuku and missed the last train, this place is still open. Surprisingly, that time slot had the shortest wait.

Three Minutes at the Ticket Machine — Price Determines Everything Here

A full view of the button panel on Ichiran's meal ticket machine with prices displayed, including ramen at 890 yen and kaedama at 190 yen — The meal ticket machine. There are separate slots for 1,000, 2,000, 5,000, and 10,000 yen bills.

Here are the prices from the buttons, as photographed. Japanese ramen prices are steadily rising, so it's recommended to verify current prices before your visit.

Ramen 890 yen
Kaedama (extra noodles) 190 yen / Half kaedama 130 yen
Soft-boiled salted egg 130 yen
Extra chashu (pork) 4 slices 250 yen
Kikurage (wood ear mushroom) 120 yen · Nori 2 sheets 120 yen · Extra green onion 120 yen · Extra garlic 120 yen
Rice 250 yen / Rice (small) 200 yen
Nikomi yaki pork plate 490 yen, Draft beer 580 yen, Matcha almond tofu 390 yen
ICHIRAN 5-Line Set 1,490 yen

A photo of a menu stand printed with the ICHIRAN 5-Line Set at 1,490 yen and individual item prices, with Korean labels — Menu stand at the entrance. With Korean text included, you won't have to struggle at the ticket machine.

Pull out a calculator and the math works out. Ramen at 890 yen plus egg, chashu, kikurage, and nori separately: 890+130+250+120+120 = 1,510 yen. The 5-line set is 1,490 yen, so it's 20 yen cheaper if you want all four toppings. Conversely, if you're only adding a few, individual items are better. On my first visit, I pressed the set button; on the second day, I only added kikurage and chashu.

An Ichiran packaged ramen poster on the wall, showing two types of boxes: Hakata thin straight noodles and chiji ramen — Packaged ramen poster for souvenirs. The machine has separate buttons for 5-pack sets at 2,000 yen and a bottle of red bison powder at 800 yen.

Counter Dining — Not Seeing Your Neighbor's Face While You Eat

The seating is divided by partitions. The front has an open footrest and the sides are blocked by wooden panels, so when you sit down, all you see is your own bowl and a wooden wall. You mark your order on a form indicating broth intensity, oil level, garlic, green onion, chashu, bison sauce, and noodle firmness, then pass it down through the slot, and only a hand reaches out to take it.

Two cups and a push faucet placed on the counter wall, next to a red frame with explanatory text about bison tare and soup — A cup and push faucet attached to the left side of your seat. Water is self-serve; there's no need to call staff.

The red frame on the right is packed with explanations about bison tare, soup, and homemade noodles. Bison sauce is made by mixing about 30 types of ingredients based on chili powder and letting it sit overnight. It advises eating a few bites plain first, without mixing. When I actually did this, the broth's flavor changed twice. At first, it's mild and creamy tonkotsu; once you crush the red clump with your chopsticks, a spicy sensation sits on the back of your tongue.

A bowl of Ichiran's basic tonkotsu ramen topped with green onion, red bison sauce, and chashu — Basic ramen 890 yen. The red sauce is in the center, with green onions piled on the left.

A top-down view of Ichiran ramen, showing the contrast between the white tonkotsu broth, green green onions, and red sauce — Fine bubbles cover the broth's surface. There's barely any pork smell; it's more savory.

You don't need to go all the way to "bari-kata" (very firm) for noodle firmness. On my first visit, I ordered bari-kata but the noodles stayed stiff even as I finished the broth. On the second day, I lowered it to "kata-men" and it was just right. Since Hakata noodles are thin and soften quickly, if you're taking photos and dragging out time, order firm; if you're eating right away, regular is better.

Thin Hakata noodles lifted out of the broth with chopsticks — This is how thick the noodles are. They're thin enough that your chopsticks hold a generous amount in one lift.

Noodles and wood ear mushroom split between chopsticks and a black renge, with a whole soft-boiled egg floating in the broth — Placing noodles in the renge reduces mess. The soft-boiled egg is floating whole in the back.

Extra Toppings — A 130-Yen Egg and 250-Yen Chashu

Extra toppings come separately on a plate with a green rim. I thought they'd place them in the bowl, but I was caught off guard when they arrived on a separate plate. The idea is for you to add as much as you want yourself.

Multiple slices of chashu and wood ear mushroom in a green-rimmed plate, with nori sheets behind it — Chashu, kikurage, and nori on one plate. A dark red small dish in the back holds the egg.

Four thin slices of chashu layered on a black plate — Extra chashu 4 slices 250 yen. The slices are thin with white fat marbled throughout. The white paper on the right is the extra order form.

Wood ear mushroom piled high on a plate with chashu underneath, and nori on the left — Kikurage 120 yen. The portion is larger than expected. It's better to eat them while crisp rather than leaving them in the broth for long.

The egg comes whole in a small dish, already peeled. Based on the machine photo alone, if you were expecting a halved soft-boiled egg, you'd be confused here. When you press it with chopsticks and split it in half, that's when the yolk is revealed.

A peeled soft-boiled egg in a black dish and a kaedama reminder sign behind it — Soft-boiled salted egg 130 yen. The sign behind reads 'Don't forget kaedama'.

A top-down view of a smooth white boiled egg in a red and black dish — Just a touch of salt on the outside. It's different from soy-marinated ajitsuke-tamago.

A halved egg held with chopsticks, with the orange yolk flowing slightly but remaining gel-like and moist — When you split it open, the yolk looks like this. It doesn't flow; it's thick like jelly.

The chashu is more about melting than chewing. Dip it in the broth for about 30 seconds and the fat loosens, shredding the grain. Kikurage is the only ingredient that makes a "crunch" sound when you chew it amidst the broth. 120 yen was worth it.

A thin slice of chashu lifted from the broth with chopsticks, with a halved egg visible below in the bowl — Chashu removed from the broth. The grain is soft and loose.

Noodles, chashu, and wood ear mushroom all caught on chopsticks at once — Noodles, chashu, and kikurage all at once. This combination was the most satisfying at this shop.

A completed Ichiran ramen bowl with chashu, wood ear mushroom, a halved egg, and nori all on top — All toppings transferred to the bowl. The broth is no longer visible.

Side view of a ramen bowl heavily topped with wood ear mushroom with nori stood upright — With nori stood upright in the broth, only the bottom gets wet, keeping the top crispy until the end.

Overhead shot of ramen with chashu spread wide, wood ear mushroom and nori on top — With extra chashu, half the broth is covered with meat.

A ramen bowl with wood ear mushroom piled in the center and a whole egg and nori on top — A bowl with the whole egg placed in the broth. Since the yolk doesn't dissolve in the broth, eating it this way was cleaner.

Kaedama and Place Settings — And What I Found Disappointing

A complete place setting with ramen bowl, chashu and wood ear mushroom plate, egg dish, and water cup arranged in a line on the counter — A complete place setting for one. The silver column on the upper left is the push faucet.

Kaedama must be pre-purchased at the ticket machine. You can mark it on the extra order form after sitting and press the button, but getting up from your seat to go back to the machine for a 190-yen item is a hassle. It's fine to buy one from the start and not use it if you don't need it. Since only noodles come, you need to leave more than half the broth, which you should plan ahead for. On my first visit, I enthusiastically drank the broth, and when kaedama arrived, I ended up mixing the noodles with what was left—basically like broth-less soup.

Let me note the disappointing points. The broth is salty. By Korean standards, after finishing a bowl of ramen, you'll be reaching for water the rest of the evening. It's better to mark the broth intensity one notch below "normal" on the order form. Also, it's good to avoid noon to 1 PM and around 7 PM. Taking advantage of the 24-hour operation and coming around 3-4 PM or late at night means you can sit down without a ticket.

Price-wise, honestly, it's above the Tokyo ramen average. If you just eat the 890-yen basic ramen, it's reasonable, but the moment you add toppings, it exceeds 1,500 yen. It's also true that there are other shops in Shinjuku alleys serving more distinctive ramen in the 800-yen range. Yet when you want to eat something hot alone and quietly on a night when you don't want to talk to anyone, the partitioned counter seat here is the most comfortable. That's why I came back a second time.