6 Ramen Spots in Central, Hong Kong to Get Your Noodle Fix

I’m not sure I would have ever written this piece if I hadn’t spent the last three months in Osaka, Japan. Ramen became a regular staple in my diet. Over three months in Japan, I ate at approximately 30 ramen restaurants (and countless more noodle shops – e.g. Soba and udon) and wrote a guide on 21 of my favorite ramen spots in Osaka. Even though I’ve lived in Hong Kong for a combined six-plus years, I had never paid much attention to ramen here. 

But like a newborn lamb with a fresh set of eyes and palate, I’m here and free of noodle sin, ready to become a Hong Kong ramen martyr so that you can get your fix. 

During my three-month stint in Osaka, something clicked genetically and gastronomically, to where I’m now at a point where I need a bowl of ramen at least twice per week. And, in a beleaguered city where some lunch and dinner prices can have you wondering exactly where your money went, ramen is an affordable, convenient, and filling option that should not be slept on.

In no particular order, here are six ramen spots you can’t miss in Central, Hong Kong. All have various branches spread out across Hong Kong but for the manageability of this article, I’ve only provided their Central location addresses. 

Note: If you want a quick primer on the four key types of ramen (tonkotsu, miso, shio, and shoyu), make sure to check out my Osaka ramen guide mentioned above.

Zagin Soba

• Address: 7 Gough St, Central
• Price Range: This one is on the pricier side of ramens in Hong Kong – each bowl will run you anywhere from HK$138 to HK$148 (plus a 10% service charge).

Zagin Soba and Maru de Sankaku are contenders for the most Instagram-worthy and sought-after (hyped or overhyped?) on this list – considering every single time I’ve eaten at both, I’ve found myself sweating my dong off in the 38-degree humid Hong Kong heat (I can’t believe I use Celsius now). But they are well worth it.

I originally stumbled on Zagin on one of my thousands of trips to Shugetsu, which I’ve declared my all-time favorite meal in Hong Kong. I had always been more than content violently sliding open the door and high-stepping into Shugetsu like Kramer entering Jerry’s apartment for the umpteenth time. However, like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, it was time to part from the noodle shadow puppets I knew all too well, take that leap into the unknown, and face the discomfort of learning what I never knew – a world outside of Shugetsu.

It paid off. Zagin is now in my regular rotation of ramen spots in Hong Kong (all six of these shops are). And there’s 13 Reasons Why – let me tell you Hannah Baker (that’s you, reading this).

First, this is a chicken white soup ramen broth originating in Osaka, which can be ordered as is (emulsified into a light white foam), in tsukemen form, or as a seafood (shrimp) and chicken broth amalgam. I opted for the latter. This is one thick rama-cita, far more reminiscent of Hakata-style tonkotsu broths than lighter chicken and shio broths that you might typically find on a menu.

The thin slice of char siu and a single white slice of white breast chicken meat both draw out the meatier side of the broth, which is constantly at war with the slightly briny, salty, and concentrated shrimp and dried fish. I would say that the essence of shrimp and dried seafood are far more prevalent in the broth than chicken so if you aren’t in the market for an intense, salty punch to the dome, I would recommend sticking with the signature white ramen broth. 

The vines of tangled fried burdock provide a needed textural contrast to the rich, thick, creamy base, and soften in texture slightly after pushing them down into the broth. The noodles, medium thick and elastic with more than enough surface area to absorb this chicken-seafood hybrid concoction. 

Finally, I should disclose that I did a Zagin-Bari-Uma bang-bang the other day as I was so ravenous after battling a bout of food poisoning, and it was glorious. So, if you are in Hong Kong for a quick weekend or simply live here and want to keep your big body like this Big Body, then know that this is an option (as they are approximately a 6.2-minute sprint from one another). 

Zagin also sits directly next to Shugetsu as well so you can easily knock both of these off in one fell swoop. However, it does feel a tad depraved and adulterous hopping from one ramen bed to another when they are next-door neighbors.

Shugetsu

• Address: 5 Gough St, Central
• Price Range: If you are hungry, I definitely recommend opting for the 300g as it comes at no extra cost. The signature tsukemen (sans kurobuta) starts at HK$111 while tsukemen with kurobuta will run HK$139 (plus a 10% service charge).

As I mentioned above, Shugetsu just does it for me in every way, shape, and form. I have fond memories of eating here for lunch with my powerlifting partner after a three-hour workout of watching him grunt at old Cantonese women on calf machines, embracing the enthusiastic and sweet manager Erica as I kicked open the door (she is an absolute gem and is worth going to Shugetsu for alone), and posting up here as a launching point to eat my fill and load up on ice-cold Suntory drafts and sake before a big (body) night out.

It also doesn’t hurt that Shugetsu’s salty, pungent, fish-powder shoyu dipping broth (laced with slightly earthy menma – bamboo shoots) could be a standalone electrolyte drink served at the popular health food and smoothie joint ‘Nood’ (just below Pure). And it’s laced with tiny chunks of fatty, slightly sweet, kurobuta pork. 

A fun footnote about Kagoshima Berkshire pork is that it’s a high-quality pork with high levels of intramuscular fat that traces its roots back to two brave British Berkshire pigs who sailed over to Japan in the 1930s. Paired with thick, chewy, cold (or hot – up to you), al-dente noodles, and you have a hearty meal that covers all the sensory bases. Just make sure to save some of this salty, pungent broth for the end of the meal so that you can request a staff member top it off with their chicken dashi (this is a pro move).

Other highlights include their crispy, chicken cartilage bites, which I actually far prefer over karaage, and their juicy, thinly wrapped gyoza. Also, it never hurts to mix in a side order of that kurobuta to have all to yourself.

Finally, it’s hard not to love the fact that no matter if you order the 100g, 200g, or 300g, it is all the same price – so if you want to maximize your HKD (or future RMB – depending on how south things go here in the next few years), this is your spot. 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: For me, nothing quite beats an ice-cold Suntory Premium draft from Shugetsu on a hot Hong Kong day. This is truly one of my favorite beers (and possibly the most drinkable lager in existence) and I would strongly recommend this for any beer enthusiast. Plus, there is no better combination than beer and chicken (other than lamb and tuna fish). 

Ramen Bari-Uma

• Address: 22 D’Aguilar St, Central
• Price Range: HK$90 to HK$140 (a rough range plus a 10% service charge). My spicy ramen (Kara-Uma) and a pint of Kirin came to just over HK$150 (including the service charge).

I can confidently declare that Ramen Bari-Uma is the most underrated and slept-on ramen on this list. In my humble opinion, this is the best bang-for-your-buck ramen that doesn’t compromise on quality and, tied with Butao, is my most frequented ramen haunt in Hong Kong. 

This spicy tonkotsu ramen (don’t worry, they have non-spicy options as well) with a thick slab of fatty char siu (trending towards thick-cut bacon) is for those who are slight masochists that want to clear out their sinuses. Originating from Hiroshima, this Kyushu-style tonkotsu gave me flashbacks to the spicy Hiroshima tsukemen (heavy on the chili oil) I loved during my week-plus in the City of Water. 

There is depth to this broth – just know that several layers of that depth will leave your tongue feeling like you frenched a chili pepper. But there’s something pleasurable about that burn. As Aurelius so poignantly put in Meditations, ‘What stands in the way becomes the way’. In this case, that’s spice. 

However, that’s where customization comes into the equation. To offset some of the spice (if you want), I recommend ordering nori (seaweed) sheets to mix in. The brininess neutralizes some of the heat and adds a slight salty tang. The fat slab(s) of char siu is tender and pulls apart easily, a must for absorbing that spicy broth into every crevice – ultimately leading to little explosions of spice with each bite. 

Generally, with thicker, spicier tonkotsu broths, I find that a firmer (and thinner) noodle is necessary, otherwise, the dish risks merging into one nebular bowl of singular taste. The medium-thin noodles, boasting a golden eggy hue, are homemade and crafted to stand as their own structural entity – absorbing no more of the broth than is needed to get the flavor picture across. 

I’ve been off the booze (well, kind of…) for about a month or so, just with so many things I’m still currently getting in order with moving back, that my most recent trip to Bar-Uma yielded a level of long overdue euphoria after the waiter Cris Angel Mindfreak’ed me by leading with those magic words, “Kirin draft beer.” I nodded. He followed up, “Half or full pint?” But he already knew the answer. It was written in accordance with the prophecy.

Butao

• Address: 69 Wellington St, Central
• Price Range: HK$90 to HK$100 per ramen (plus a 10% service charge) + HK$15 for kaedama. 

Butao is a popular ramen joint on Wellington Street that has stood the test of time (unlike that push cart dim sum spot right down the street that stopped paying their workers). This is your go-to, Mr. and/or Ms. Reliable (I’m unsure if ramen shops are gendered similarly to yachts), know exactly what you’re getting tonkotsu ramen.

Patrons have several options when posting up at Butao, and can choose from their traditional ‘Butao’ (pork bone broth), ‘Black King’ (black vinegar, black squid ink, and pork bone broth), ‘Red King’ (pork bone and miso broth layered with spicy soy sauce made from sesame oil), or ‘Limited King’ (black vinegar and pork bone broth with tomato, basil, and cheese – as of date of publication). 

Keep in mind that the ‘Limited King’ flavor and/or broth rotates and has a set number of bowls served each day, so (a) get there early in the day if you want to try a limited-time ramen and (b) know that what’s there today may be gone tomorrow. I typically alternate between the ‘Black King’ and ‘Red King’ – pictured below, I’m sure you can guess which I’m writing about. 

I’m unsure if ‘Red King’ is an homage to William II of England (the flamboyant, pugnacious heir and successor to William the Conqueror), Canadian MMA fighter Rory MacDonald (UFC 189 Lawler v. MacDonald is still the best fight I’ve ever watched), or its spicy sesame oil tanginess (I’m guessing this), but I would argue that its sass, ferocity, and gustatory cell destruction could make a strong case for all three.

While you can choose between thick or thin noodles and customize them on a firmness scale of 1 to 5, Butao has perfected the art of firm thin noodles which I would strongly recommend for any spicy tonkotsu enthusiast. This is also typically standard practice for tonkotsu ramens due to the potential of it becoming one big mushy rom-com of spice (I am way too into Hakata-style tonkotsu from the Kyushu region of Japan where ultra-thin noodles are par for the course).

Topped with a mound of chili powder, crunchy kikurage (wood ear mushroom), a medium-rare slice of char siu, and juicy minced pork, Butao’s ‘Red King’ broth isn’t a one-trick-spice-pony and offers up several dimensions of textural and additive flavor.

If you don’t think that a single bowl of noodles is going to cut it for the day, make sure to tell the waiter/waitress ‘kaedama’ (extra noodles) when you order. Kaedama is usually free in Japan but this is Hong Kong so well…you know…these Central rents ain’t gonna pay themselves. You’ll have to let the waiter know when you are roughly halfway through your noodles so that they can fire up your second batch, which you then just dump on in. 

Pale Ale Travel Beer Tip: Butao has ‘Yebisu’ beer cans available which have to be one of the most flavorful lagers I’ve ever had touch my lips and is in a constant three-way war with Suntory and Sapporo for my favorite draft beer in Japan.

Maru De Sankaku

• Address: 13 Aberdeen St, Central
• Price Range: The same as Zagin, where a bowl will cost anywhere from HK$138 to HK$148 (plus a 10% service charge), the tsukemen being the most expensive.

I first showed up at Maru De Sankaku at 8:30 PM on a Tuesday and was met with a line that immediately had me questioning if I made a huge mistake. Generally, I’m never too jazzed when I have to wait more than 10 minutes in a line – maybe it’s the New Englander in me – as there’s no shortage of formidable alternatives right around the corner (usually). 

A blessing and a curse with Maru De Sankaku (the sister store of Zagin, I believe) is that if you think you’re going to show up to no line, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. However, this is also one of the few times that the wait is actually worth it. And, it’s a well-oiled ramen machine. A staff member will provide you with a menu and several minutes to look it over before taking your order outside. The total time from my ass hitting the seat to having a piping hot bowl of madai-based (sea bream) ramen in front of me was less than 3 minutes.

This sea bream broth is definitely the most unique ramen on this list and what I would classify more as ‘elevated ramen’ rather than ‘mainichi (every day) ramen’. This is a special treat. For times when I’ve been a good boy and haven’t gotten a newspaper to the nose in a considerable amount of time. It’s not just “an essence” of shellfish (and seafood), it’s the whole Pacific Ocean. 

I know what you’re thinking when you read that, it must be overly fishy. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll know that a Mermaid offered a net filled with madai and clams as “sacrifice” in Victoria Harbour upon first slurp (I think madai are only found in Korean and Taiwanese waters so disregard this). But madai is clean and on the sweeter side. The straight, firm noodles err on the thinner side, which creates a textural separation of church and skate (get it? Like the fish? I’ll see myself out).

Coupled with an espuma (foam) top half, and citrusy yuzu paste spread on the top rim of the bowl, it may catch you by surprise with just how light it is (sans an aftertaste that overstays its welcome).

The char siu is not one of the more traditional fatty, smoky slices, instead erring on the ‘rarer’ end, reminiscent of a thinly sliced high-quality roast beef. The menma further provided sweetness and an earthy undertone to cut through the shellfish and madai.

I would be remiss not to mention that Maru’s karaage goes toe-to-toe (and even exceeds) with a high percentage of all fried chicken I consumed in Japan (which was a lot). It’s golden brown, sports a satisfying crunch, and retains a juiciness that deceased rapper Juice Wrld (R.I.P.) would have included the ‘O’ in his name had he taken a bite of this. 

I did get a bit carried away dipping it in the accompanying curry powder and broke out into an uncontrollable coughing fit much to the horror of my counter-neighbors.

I’ve mentioned in several previous posts that ramen joints are silent assassins when it comes to serving up creative, top-notch rice bowls. Maru De Sankaku lives and breathes this to a T, pouring the Madai-based broth (Chazuke-style) over a hearty bowl of Japanese rice and ginger.

Finally, it warmed my heart to see Minoh Beer on the menu – a popular Osakan brewery behind my favorite pale ale in Japan. 

Pale Ale Travel Line Reflection: The only time I’ve ever had to wait in a significant chunk of time back home was when one of the Desperate Housewives (New York City) crashed the Starbucks I was working from in Epping, New Hampshire, and her team of security guards made me stand in the corner while she took her time ordering. In case you’re wondering, I’m team Dorinda – and it was unfortunately not her.

Kane Tsuru Ramen

• Address: 39 Hollywood Rd, Central
• Price Range: HK$90 to HK$140 (plus a 10% service charge). The specialty ramen clocks in at the high end. 

Located right under the escalators at the start of SoHo, Kane Tsuru is a no-nonsense ramen shop that frankly, has no business being so delicious and affordable in such a location. And, it’s perfect for those who aren’t sure what they are in the mood for broth-wise as they’ve got it all. While the chicken white-soup ramen is their signature, Kane Tsuru does also offer up a black garlic shoyu ramen, house shio ramen, and spicy tonkotsu ramen (tonkotsu pictured above and below).

At one point, there was also a creamy Hokkaido crab ramen and lobster ramen on the menu at one point (I’m unsure if it is still on there as of the date of publication), so I definitely recommend keeping an eye out for the limited-time ramen they have on special.

Like Bari-Uma, Kane Tsuru’s spicy ramen isn’t playing around. This broth, which looks like four-time indictee Donny T’s face was melted down, sports a mild orange hue that darkens as you mix all your ramen accoutrements in. It’s goddamn delicious. While it is definitely creamy and somewhat milky, as standard tonkotsu broths generally are, it is far lighter and thinner than the other ramens on this list. 

This creaminess/milkiness is cut down further by a generous portion of kikurage and nori sheets, which kick up its pungency a notch with discernible earthiness and saltiness. This ramen contains multitudes (love me some Walt Whitman). The noodles, medium-thick, firm, and springy, further cut down on its creaminess with their distinct snap. 

Paired with several cold slices of chicken breast, medium-thick slab of char siu (almost similar to Canadian bacon), and creamy soft-boiled egg, and you have a ramen that ticks all the boxes of textural, temperature, and flavor profiles that you could dream of. This almost reminds me of the tonkotsu equivalent of the chicken-broth/shio-based “junk style ramen” – which throws everything but the kitchen sink that is salty, fatty, and packed with flavor atop the noodles.

Kane Tsuru’s karaage also sent a shiver down my spine with its golden brown outer layer and juicy inside. I always find myself dunking it in the broth to create my own bizarre version of Nashville hot chicken.

Finally, Kane Tsuru also operates almost as a ramen-izakaya cyborg, offering up everything from ox tongue skewers (that would make Gene Simmons blush) to minced chicken skewers and even eel/unagi skewers (they also have a sizable collection of rice bowls as well). 

Shake Ya Ramen Tailfeather, Hong Kong, Shake It

Similar to my Osaka ramen guide, this is going to be a living, breathing document that is (somewhat) frequently updated. After all, this is my home turf and I’m not slowing down my ramen consumption anytime soon (or ever). I also like having somewhere I can wear one of my newly acquired Japanese baseball jerseys since they are now officially the nicest piece of clothing I own.

While there are a variety of ramen styles on this list, I have one point of note and ramen reflection: an overwhelming percentage (or at least in Central) of ramen spots in Hong Kong are tonkotsu or chicken-based. As a shoyu-fiend and miso-maniac, I’ve definitely found myself scrambling a bit to find a second fiddle to Shugetsu (shoyu-based).

Coming back to Hong Kong after six months away has been somewhat of a letdown for Japanese food (I know, I sound like a bozo and a snob), as I’m having trouble wrapping my head around izakaya and yakiniku prices here. I’m a salaryman at heart and an advocate of salaryman prices. However, ramen has proved to be a source of gastronomic and fiscal stability which I am finding myself more and more impressed with by the day. 

Hong Kong does shake its tailfeather (shoutout to Murphy Lee, Diddy, and Nelly) when it comes to serving up high-quality bowls of ramen that won’t break the bank. This article is a testament to that.

If you have any favorite ramen spots not only in Central but across Hong Kong, let me know in the comments and I’ll make sure to check it out. Or if you have any other topics you’d like to see me write about in Hong Kong (lifestyle, travel, food, or cafe-related), don’t hesitate to reach out here or via email (info@palealetravel.com).

Eat well everyone,

Big Babiniku Body