Kumamoto Ramen

Pork bone blended with chicken frame gives a broth rounder and milder than the pork bone found elsewhere in Kyushu. Floating on top is mayu, a black oil made by frying garlic until it browns, crushing it, and working it back into the frying oil — an instant hit of toasty aroma and body. The medium-thick, straight noodles run a little thicker than Hakata's, and wood ear mushroom in the toppings is a local touch. The scent of mayu clears the nose first; the sweetness of the pork bone follows slowly after, and fried garlic chips bring the toasty note back with every bite.

Making the mayu is said to be the hardest part. Garlic is sliced thin, dried a little, then fried slowly from low heat in lard until it browns black, ground in a mortar, and worked back into the frying oil. That oil is drizzled over the broth, topped with fried garlic chips — the backbone of the bowl. Rush it and the aroma never develops; scorch it and bitterness creeps in, so reading the heat correctly decides how the dish turns out. How dark each shop fries its garlic is exactly where each one's character diverges.

Kumamoto ramen is said to trace back to Kurume ramen, passing through Tamana on its way to Kumamoto city and the surrounding area. Layering the sharp aroma of browned garlic onto that Kurume-inherited richness is thought to have developed as a way to mask the pork bone's rawer edge while adding body. Rather than let the pork bone's own smell stand alone, wrapping it in aroma instead reads as this region's own answer. It's a bowl that took an inherited richness and added one more local step on top of it.