Damian B.
Google
Tucked away in a modest business plaza in Portland, Oregon, Ryoma Ramen finds itself neighboring a curious "Japanese" market—though its Hawaiian influences suggest a unique cultural fusion. The restaurant offers a cozy, unassuming ambience that pairs well with its approachable menu, but can Ryoma captivate the discerning palate of a ramen enthusiast? I ventured to find out.
After being welcomed by the attentive waitress, I had already made up my mind: the Corn Butter Ramen with miso broth, along with a beer to pair. At first glance, I was intrigued by the ordering system for beer, allowing diners to pick a size that suits their mood. A small touch, but one that speaks to thoughtful service. I will admit that I was a little perplexed by the naming convention of the ramen; in Japan, this dish is typically called "Butter Corn Ramen," a detail that might strike traditionalists as odd—but ultimately, that's cosmetic.
The food arrived promptly, starting with the beer followed by the steaming bowl of ramen. Visually, the presentation was spot-on: the pat of butter oozing into the broth, golden corn glistening atop the bowl, and the roasted pork neatly arranged. It was a picture-perfect display that stirred anticipation. However, my first sip of broth gave me pause—the flavor initially had a burnt undertone that was both surprising and disappointing. However, as I mixed the ingredients together, the broth seemed to mellow and balance out, improving significantly with each bite.
The noodles were an undeniable highlight. Cooked to perfection, they struck the coveted balance of chewiness without crossing into mushy territory. They’re the kind of noodles that keep you coming back for more. The roasted pork, on the other hand, presented an inconsistency. While the flavor was deep and well-executed, the temperature was inexplicably cold—a perplexing misstep that diminished the overall enjoyment of the dish. It warmed over time once submerged in the broth, but this came at the expense of cooling the soup, which should ideally stay piping hot—a hallmark of a good ramen experience. Granted, I arrived close to closing time, so perhaps the kitchen had begun prepping for the end of the night, but this detracted from an otherwise solid offering.
The miso-based broth itself, while decent, lacked the rich, creamy intensity that deeper ramen aficionados—myself included—tend to gravitate toward. While this could be an intentional adjustment to cater to American tastes, it fell somewhat short of delivering the depth of flavor I hoped for. That said, I must emphasize that ramen varies widely depending on the region in Japan; for instance, Kyushu’s tonkotsu ramen is famed for its lush pork-based broth, which perhaps set an unfair benchmark in my mind. Despite the lighter flavor profile, the bowl remained enjoyable overall, especially for those open to a less traditional interpretation.
Ultimately, Ryoma Ramen offers a comforting, approachable bowl of ramen that feels designed with both American and Japanese influences in mind. It’s not perfect—the temperature mishap and somewhat underwhelming broth were notable shortcomings—but these weren’t dealbreakers. For a casual ramen outing, Ryoma absolutely delivers a good meal and an inviting atmosphere. Would I return? Yes. With a few tweaks—especially to the depth of the broth and attention to small kitchen details—I suspect Ryoma could truly shine.
For those seeking an “authentic” experience, keep your expectations tempered. Ramen differs across Japan’s regions, and clinging too tightly to one interpretation can lead to unnecessary disappointment. Ryoma Ramen isn’t a trip to Kyushu—it’s a Portland experience, and it’s worth trying with an open mind and appetite. While it doesn’t transport you fully to Japan, it’s a bowl that brings joy in its own way. Give it a shot, and savor the little details that make Ryoma what it is.
