Having almost lost my mind at their branch in Bangkok NUMEROUS times, I had to see if they were replicating the near-perfection a thousand kilometers south. In short: No. 

​It looked almost identical, with that frothy milk Tonkotsu broth causing deep gasps from near and far when set down gently at the table.


The main issue was the depth of flavour. At the Bangkok branch they manage to wizardly balance it between becoming cloyingly fatty, and thinly veiled. It packs a deep, comforting punch but doesn't coat your entire throat so you need a fire-hose to rinse you out.  This broth was more on the fatty side and less on the flavour. The pork and egg were pretty spot on, and the noodles were fine. It just goes to prove that even tho the name remains, the contents of the bowl can, ultimately, let you down.

Another extremely long detour outside of central KL led me to this neighbourhood joint, set in a small enclave devoid of tourists. I noticed the noodle machine at the entrance where they hand-make them every day. Good sign.

The restaurant was decorated like a Japanese lamp hoarders cave. Tons of them hanging from the ceiling and Kanji wording plastered on the walls in that typical chaotic calm. 


The most important part of course is the food. I personally don't care if i'm eating on a sinking ship as long as the food is up to par (and there's a life-jacket). Solid noodles, decent broth, tender pork and a pretty good egg. All in all, they knew what they were doing but just need a little more umami in the soup. A very promising shop that I could see hitting it's stride in a year or two if they stay the course and push.

"But the bowl looks so epic". Well, yes it does. Looks, as we all know, can be deceiving. 

I'm personally quite pissed off with this establishment. After having shaken life into my flu-ridden bones by way of numerous cups of strong coffee, I wilfully walked into venus-like conditions: sun tearing every shred of life out of me in a split second, waited for my Grab Taxi, hurtled through traffic for 25 flat minutes to far yonder suburbs to try the best rated ramen in KL. 


As per usual, I went off-peak so that I didn't have snorting baboons next to me whilst trying to have a private moment. It was decidedly empty, thankfully. Signature Ramen was ordered, woman was rather surly. Sadly it was a pre-cursor to what was coming: listlessness and sorrow.

​At first sip the broth was OK... promising in that sense that some broths grow on you, some flow out of you. This one didn't open up at all or offer anything exciting, just remaining painfully below average. Noodles aside (which were standard thin ramen noodles), the main culprit here was the pork. I don't quite know what they did to it, but it was tough as a flip flop, and had a bizarre taste like it actually had gone "off". It was highly unpleasant. Egg-wise it was just a regular egg, no love had been lavished on it. 

For once in my life I left 3/4 of it. Being in a city like KL with so many gut-evangelistically amazing meals, I didn't want to waste any processing power on something so tortured. I paid and left quickly, not wanting to share eye contact with the chef. 

Don't even attempt to eat here during rush hours, the line will be so long that you'll resemble a piece of tandoori chicken before you manage to get out of the beating sun. Rather choose the beginning or end of service to have some relative peace. I've heard it upon good authority that this place changed hands recently and the food quality has suffered slightly, whilst the prices have shown phallic growth. Typical how that happens so often eh?

I ventured out in the late afternoon and snagged a table without much ado. The usual was ordered, along with a healthy serving of their deep fried bitter gourd (which is delicious). Everything was good, some of it was great, but none of it was fantatic. It's one of those places that is just not nuanced enough so it captures the majorities attention, whilst other seek out the ones with more acidity, chilli, punch.... 

One spectacularly hot day, I was trying to get to a famous chapatti restaurant around the corner but they had just sold their last dough-frisbee. Forlorn and at the point of exhaustion, I turned a corner and spotted this hall. Walked in, not a single free space, however on the way in I noticed a small table outside, so I asked the waiter and he told me I could sit there. First off, a place to sit. Secondly, away from people.. this couldn't get any better. Or could it?

I ordered the regular banana leaf with some chicken curry on the side and sat watching the sad offerings at the temple across. Ten minutes later I was handed a freshly washed banana leaf and a pile of curries. A couple of minutes later my chicken curry came out fresh and steaming hot. I must have scarfed the whole thing down in 5 minutes flat, it was THAT food. Perfect flavours, heat, tang, salt levels. Everything was faultless, no wonder the place was so full when I arrived.