Ever since the ramen revolution swept through town and every third working chef starting channeling Tampopo, I along with the other Pharisees have felt compelled to charge most of them with blasphemy. I’ve become so tired of repeating the assertion that a dilettante’s ramen can’t hope to compete with the lush, porky goodness of the tonkotsu ramen at the Santouka kiosk in Mitsuwa Marketplace—chain ramen, for chrissakes!—that I was afraid it would lose all meaning.
One thing that sets Misoya apart from the entire field is that it’s the Chicago region’s first dedicated ramen-ya. When you step through the doors the chefs behind the bar will raise their heads from their tasks and welcome you with a spirited “Irasshaimase!” And when you sit among the overwhelmingly Japanese clientele and open your menu, you won’t be asked to consider sushi, “tapas,” portobello and avocado tempura, or anything else that might extort energy from the chefs’ single-minded pursuit of gorgeously constructed bowls of ramen. (There are some appetizers, but these are for the most part doing double duty as add-ins for the ramen.)
None of the bowls, in fact, are in any way insubstantial, in no small part due to their commonalities—most importantly, their noodles. Shipped in from California, these dominate the bowl, thicker and chewier than most, and not at all soft (like those at Santouka ). They stand up admirably in the full-bodied broths.
Misoya isn’t so rigidly standardized that it can’t occasionally dabble in other styles. On a recent Friday night there was a spicy miso tonkotsu special offered, with a base of pork and chicken stock fattened with soy milk and swimming with baby clams, which is not uncommon in Hokkaido. It was fine, but no match for any of the miso ramen. When I want tonkotsu I’ll stick to Santouka (or go for karaoke).
1584 S. Busse, Mount Prospect 847-437-4590facebook.com/RamenMisoyaChicago
