Ginjo Ramen Kubota — Restaurant in Kyoto

Twas our first night in Kyoto, back in the summer of '15—a night so dark it felt like the city had swallowed the stars. With zero direction, the GF and I decided to explore the mystery of Kyoto after dark. No map. No plan.

We wandered aimlessly through the inky black streets intoxicated by the cool, humid Kyoto air.

Then—a glow. A faint red light pierced the darkness.

We were drawn to it like moths to a paper flame. As we neared, the shape of a red lantern slowly revealed itself, swaying ever so slightly in the wind. It hung outside an unassuming little building, almost hidden between two larger, louder structures.

We froze.

On the wall: signage in Kanji. To our eyes, it might as well have been hieroglyphics—beautiful but indecipherable. Yet something about that place whispered to us: "Enter."

We slid the door open and stepped inside.

The space was intimate, but radiated intention. We looked at each other. "Did we just stumble into a ramen spot?"

Before we could answer, our ears were greeted with the Japanese langauge.

"Irasshaimase!!" Two men behind the counter, wearing white hachimaki (bandanas), shouted in unison without even looking up from their meticulous work. We bowed instinctively—half in respect, half in confusion.

Then we saw it: a ticket machine. Like a vending machine from the future, it presented us with buttons bearing cryptic ramen images. Except... the noodles were separated from the broth?

We squinted. Then saw the words: “Miso Tsukemen (dipping noodles).”We had no idea what it meant, but we were intrigued. Daring, even. It was also our first time ordering from a machine, but something about it felt right. We slid our Yen into the machine and—trusting fate—pressed the sacred "1" button, the universal number for a restaurant's speciality. The machine spat out our tickets like golden passes to noodle nirvana. We handed them to the chefs and took our seats.

As we settled in, we watched. Mesmerized. Every motion behind the counter was deliberate, practiced. No wasted movement. The boiling of noodles. The aggressive flicking of the strainer to remove water like a samurai finishing a clean slice. The pouring of broth with monk-like precision. It was a ballet of culinary mastery, perfected through years of repetition, failure, and quiet obsession.

Then, it arrived. Two bowls. One for broth—thick, dark, mysterious. One for noodles—gleaming, bouncy, beautiful. We stared at them like archaeologists discovering lost treasure.

We dipped. We slurped. And then... it happened. Umami. A full-body experience. A burst of flavor that made our spines straighten and eyes widen like anime protagonists unlocking their final form.

Each bite intensified the magic. The noodles had the perfect chew—resilient but tender. The broth was thick, rich, savory, and impossibly balanced. They were made for each other, like twin souls separated at birth and reunited in our mouths.

Before we knew it, we were staring at two empty bowls. Silence. Not out of sadness—but reverence. We looked at each other. No words were needed. We bowed deeply to the chefs. They gave a small nod, like they already knew.

We stepped back into the night. Back into the quiet Kyoto streets, back into the unknown. But now with a memory burned into our tastebuds—a flavor we would spend the rest of our trip trying, and failing, to replicate.

Osaka. Tokyo. Highly regarded spots. You name it. We chased the feeling during the rest of our adventure, but nothing ever came close. By the final leg of our journey, we accepted the truth: The chase was over...

Ginjo Ramen Kubota, Arigatou. Until...

First and foremost: READ THIS TO KNOW HOW THIS PLACE WORKS Get to the store. If there’s a line ask the first person in line if they have their ticket. If yes, go ahead and walk INSIDE and turn left to face a vending machine. Note the number in the red circle by each item on the menu will match the numbers on the vending machine. The menu is OUTSIDE with english translations and pictures. CASH ONLY!! And potentially only bills smaller than 10,000 ¥ Get in line AFTER you’ve got a ticket in hand! The worker will come out and go down the line to collect tickets and assign seats. If you got in line without a ticket you’re SOL…

I got here before it opened and there was already a line of 10 people (roughly a full house). Our tickets were bought at 5:58pm and we were seated at 6:26pm. They’ll prepare your ramen once you’re seated so don’t expect it to be ready right away. And for heavens sakes READ the instructions on how to eat the tsukemen if you’ve never had it. It’s literally pasted at every booth. We watched a group of Americans sit down and say “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, so I just poured all the noodles in to the sauce” 🤦‍♀️

Was it the absolute best ramen I’ve ever had? Probably not. Was it still very tasty? Absolutely. I preferred the broth from the Nikumiso more than the Tsukemen personally, but the thicker noodles from the tsukemen were my preference. Overall it was quite a unique experience and I’d go again but wouldn’t wait anymore than...

Terrible experience I originally planned to check out this dipping noodle shop with my friends, but the experience was a total letdown! 😡

We had 4 suitcases with us because we were waiting for two other friends. While waiting in the shop, the owner (I assume he was the owner) suddenly came over and said that all our suitcases had to be placed outside. We thought that if the suitcases couldn’t be brought in, we might as well not eat there and asked for a refund. After communicating with an English-speaking customer behind us, the owner overheard the word "refund" and suddenly softened his attitude, saying we could come in.

After entering, our friends arrived, and we wanted to step outside to explain the situation to them. But the owner directly gestured for us to sit down and not move, which was really frustrating… 😓

To be fair, the noodles were actually quite good—chewy and flavorful—but the service was far from acceptable. After finishing our meal, we stood at the spot shown in the second picture waiting for our ride, and the owner came over again to shoo us away. The attitude was really off-putting.

In summary: 🍜 Taste: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 👨‍🍳 Service: ⭐️ 🚶‍♀️ Will I return? No way.

The service attitude was a huge turnoff. No matter how good the food is, it can’t make up for this kind of experience… Consider this...