We join the queue to review Ginza Kagari – a spot that flies its ramen in from Tokyo

The scent hits you as soon as you step inside Ginza Kagari, the cult Japanese ramen shop that opened its first Australian outpost in Melbourne early this year. Your senses may have been heightened by the sometimes-long wait in the queue outside, your hunger growing, your mouth anticipating what’s to come. Yes, there’s a subtle chicken underpinning to the thwack of aroma beyond the Russell Street threshold, but the overwhelming smell is truffle oil.

I try, very hard, not to be a snob about the food likes and dislikes of the zeitgeist, and to disregard my preferences when it comes to my professional life. Truffle oil is one of the only instances in which I have trouble doing that. I find the chemical taste of 2,4-dithiapentane, the main compound from which truffle oil is made, overpowering and unpleasant, somewhere between a bad hipster cologne and something you should put in your car engine. I also worry that people are so used to the fake version that the real thing – which is subtle and foresty and elusive – is often misunderstood.

I’m saying all this in the spirit of full disclosure, because the dish at Ginza Kagari that’s gone viral online is a bowl of ramen imbued with enough truffle oil to obliterate the real truffle also contained within. People love it, and you might love it too, but I struggled mightily with it, for all the above reasons.

The real star of the show here should not be the truffle soup but rather the simplest, most unassuming offering: the tori paitan ramen that is just a bowl of chewy light soba noodles, a few seasonal vegetable garnishes – a spear of asparagus, maybe; a single snowpea atop a quartered potato – soft slices of poached chicken, and an intensely mellow, chicken-y, silky, milky broth that is, in its own right, a thing of great wonder.

Ginza Kagari was founded in Tokyo in 2013 by Makoto Iwata, who very quickly gained renown for that chicken broth, in part because of its point of difference at a time when pork tonkatsu ramen reigned supreme. Like most famous ramen, Ginza Kagari is a tale of obsessive perfectionism: the broth is made from Japanese spring water with chickens that are freshly killed. The original outpost earned Michelin Bib Gourmand recognition in 2016 and 2017.

William Foo, who travelled from his Adelaide home to Japan and became enamoured with the shop and its ramen, convinced Iwata to partner with him for an Australian venture. Keisuke Iwata, Makoto’s son, is on site in Melbourne, and rather than try to recreate the magic with Australian water and Australian chooks, he and Foo chose to ship the broth fresh from Japan.

The result is, in my estimation, far superior to the other tori paitan available around town. Why you would want to besmirch such perfection with overpowering, fake fungus flavour is beyond me. I’m not here to shame truffle oil lovers. You want what you want!

The ramen is relatively expensive. You’re paying for that broth’s plane ticket, which seems a bit outrageous and also totally worth it.

Look, I am a spice fiend. I find it hard to walk away from any kind of chilli version of any noodle soup. I tried the spicy ma-la paitan ramen at Ginza Kagari and loved it, but also thought it was a bit of a waste because the spice obliterated the lovely, mellow, deep purity of the chicken flavour of the original. Even the chips of roasted garlic served on the side only made it into a few mouthfuls, as nice as the sweet umami hit tasted. I want that broth unadulterated.

There are other bowls here worth trying. I particularly liked the special niboshi soba, featuring a clear broth made from dried baby sardines, which exhibits deep savoury warmth, topped with both chicken and a fat slice of pork chashu that’s meatier and more piggy than many versions around town.

The shop is small, bright and pumping with Japanese hyper-pop. Service is also bright and friendly and efficient, once you make it in the door, which, as mentioned takes a while these days. (I did walk right in at 11.30am one day; late afternoon is also a good bet for now.) You order and pay at the counter after being seated but ahead of your meal. Drinks are straightforward: a few highballs (that actually taste like gin or whiskey, not just lolly water) including a fun sour plum version; Asahi on tap; a couple of soft drinks.

The ramen here is relatively expensive, starting at $29 a bowl with add-ons available. You’re paying for that broth’s plane ticket, which seems a bit outrageous and also totally worth it.

Because once seated at a counter along the wall, face hovering over your bowl, scooping broth that tastes like everything comforting and good and nothing else, you forget how much it cost and how far it travelled to get here. You ignore the smells and sounds around you, and focus only on this pure good thing in front of your face. And then you go on about your day, slightly better for this small act of self-love.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.