A review of Birmingham’s ramen spot…

Ichicoro Imoto

1821 2nd Ave N Suite 184, Birmingham, AL 35203

(813) 517-9989

 

Dearth…perhaps that’s the best way I can encapsulate the food desert that is Japanese cuisine in Alabama; tumbleweeds of had-beens—Sekisui and its brethren—blowing past the fluorescent-lit caverns of the sushi-serving elite: Jinsei, Ginza, Samurai, O Sushi, the list goes on. Maki rolls thick with cream cheese, tempura shrimp, avocado, and regret decorate the soft-serve version of Japanese eateries that dwell beneath the Mason-Dixon line. The answer? I can simply hang a head in reverent hunger for something more…but wait, that smell. That fatty scent of unctuous pork belly, the translucent whispers of tonkotsu broth, the earthy astringency of spring onion…could it be? Ramen?

Translating to Ichicoro Sister, Ichicoro Ramen has three locations fanning from St. Petersburg, Florida to Birmingham, Alabama; guided by chefs Masa Takaku and Noel Cruz, veterans of the New York City restaurant scene, Ichicoro wholly embraces the idea of the fast-casual dining affair—speedy food prep, behind-the-counter service, a smaller menu, and corporate lunch break portions.

Its Birmingham location, nestled between shawarma and burger stalls, occupies a horizontally-challenged space—wood-latticed, black and gold painted, aesthetically minimalist—in the trendy Pizitz Food Hall. An upscale version of the traditional mall food court, the Pizitz comes replete with global selections from poke to Ethiopian, a large, central bar serving up original cocktails and local beer on tap, fine cheese, coffee, and popsicles stores, and a Warby Parker—ensuring that you can read and order from every menu in hipster clarity. The Food Hall made its home in the airy ground floor of the historic Pizitz building of old Birmingham lore, a previously abandoned department store that had laid in art-deco dormancy for the past couple of decades, now revitalized and full on food curated by the couple behind the locally-famous food blog, What to Eat in Birmingham.

Diners travel to the Pizitz for relatively unfamiliar dining experiences (at least in regard to the typical Birmingham palate), and Ichicoro Imoto does not disappoint. Its menu, a roughly ten-piece compendium of Japanese-American collisions, covers most of the obvious ground: chicken and pork-based ramen, steamed pork buns, chilled soba noodles, and a variety of protein-filled rice bowls, all prepared and served by the younger, all-black-wearing, restaurant staff. While all the bones of genuine Japanese ramen are present, the dishes at Ichicoro have a tendency to meander along the line between authenticity and fusion, incorporating regional ingredients like beef brisket, fried chicken with white bbq sauce, and brothless B.E.C. (bacon, egg, and cheese) finding menu space that highlights the culinary culture of the American south, perhaps allowing newcomers to overcome their reticence to menma, chasyu, and ajitama (fermented bamboo shoots, roasted pork belly, and soy seasoned egg, respectively).

But what’s it like to eat there? I got to the stall at 11am (after parking in the 2hr-free parking deck next door, a nice amenity for downtown travelers), just as Ichicoro was awakening from its steamy slumber. Back in the kitchen, I could see large vats of broth misting off the vapors of tonkotsu broth (a porky, delicious mess of a soup base), noodles—supplied by the well-known Sun Corp. of NYC—being prepped for boiling, and thick slices of pork belly being tantalizingly grilled over hot coals. As the first responder to the call that was ramen smell, I didn’t have to wait to be attended to, a server immediately coming to take my order: tonkotsu ramen and a pair of pork steamed buns.

In a matter of moments (2.3 minutes to be exact), an aluminum tray filled to its edges with Japanese decadency was handed over, and I found a table to sit at, alongside my family. A note: the Pizitz, like any food court, has a smattering of tables (both single and shared) dotting its interior. Finding a table usually isn’t difficult, one can always sit at the bar, but noise rattling around the somewhat cramped interior of the Hall can be a complaint—not the ideal place for a quiet, pensive, or romantic lunch/dinner.

It took some willpower to refrain from diving in and instead take a few pictures. The pork buns, soft bun-wrapped slices of grilled pork belly, come topped with a sweet citrus hoisin and sesame sauce were lit up by the lime green and fuchsia of pickled watermelon radish, rose-orange hued daikon pickles, and dark green pickled cucumber. If that sounds like a lot of pickles, it was. While the radish, carrot, and cucumber provided nice, crisp textural deviations from the pillowy dough, they managed to cover the flavor of the pork, the should-be star. Thus, after pulling the pickles from the second bun and eating them as a side dish—like any good deli appetizer—I tried a plain pork bun. Chasyu should be fatty in the most sinful of ways, leading to a divinely juicy and smoky chew; Ichicoro’s suffered from being too thinly sliced, leaving room for precious fat to drip into the coals. Additionally, while the buns have the right amount of spongey bounce, they also err on the side of dryness, their chambered interiors too bready to let the meat and its saucy accoutrement shine through.

But ramen, as we all know, stands as the real headliner. Ichicoro Imoto’s pork ramen sits served in a compostable bowl, dark, brooding, and somewhat haphazardly constructed: two smaller slices of pork belly (garnished with fried garlic) sit atop a round of noodles, around the pork, patches of black-green nori, chopped scallions, beige sticks of menma, a spoonful of black garlic sauce, and a signature soy poached egg. Possessing the unique and not ubiquitous reviewer ability to recall time spent in Japan, eating at a wide variety of ramen establishments and lean-tos, I immediately othered my taste buds, had them primed to be thrown back to the alleyways of Tokyo, hunched over a steaming bowl of richly umamied and deeply salted ramen, slurping up over a century of practiced perfection.

However, Ichicoro’s ramen fell, understandably, short of this international expectation. The broth, a double pork fat base, lacked the body and depth of a truly great bowl of ramen; it was too thin and relied too heavily on chicken stock to compensate for the less than perfect amount of pork fat that had rendered into the soup. I tried the pork, which, while tasty, still lacked the melty nature of a properly fatty cut. On the other hand, the menma shoots provided an interesting fermented flavor that added some complexity and textural diversity. Sun Corp’s noodles are truly delicious; I had no qualms with their silky-smooth bite and ability to hold broth.

All in all…meh; it’s a perfectly alright attempt at ramen in Alabama, but it might not fly further up the east or west coasts—lacking the complexity and nuances of flavor that experienced ramen shops possess. But again, I’m a harsh critic. For a family or city worker looking for a relatively cheap lunch/dinner that deviates from their norm, it’s worth a shot. As for me, I’ll be refreshing the Google flights page in the hopes of getting back to the birthplace of it all.