Iekei: Yokohama's family of rich, made-to-order ramen
Tonkotsu-shoyu, golden chicken oil, thick noodles and sheets of nori. Iekei began at one Yokohama shop in 1974 and grew a family tree across Japan.
Most ramen styles are named after a place. Iekei is named after a family, or more exactly, after a single shop and everyone who learned from it.
It's one of the most satisfying bowls in Japan to order, because the shop hands you the controls. Firmer noodles, stronger soup, more oil: you decide. All you need is a little vocabulary.
One shop, one family tree
The story starts in Yokohama in 1974, when Yoshimuraya (吉村家) opened and began serving a rich, salty pork-bone-and-soy soup, glossy with chicken fat, over thick noodles. It's generally regarded as the founding shop of the style.
Cooks who trained there went on to open their own places, and many gave them names ending in 家, read -ya and meaning "house", just like the original. That's where the style's name comes from: iekei (家系) means something like "house lineage", the family of -ya shops. Those shops trained cooks of their own, and the tree grew branches across Kanagawa, into Tokyo and eventually all over Japan.
Today, not every shop with 家 in its name has a direct line back to Yoshimuraya. Many simply cook in the style. Devoted fans enjoy tracing who trained where, and I find there's something charming about a bowl of noodles with a genealogy.
What's in the bowl
An iekei ramen is easy to recognise once you've seen one.
- The broth is tonkotsu-shoyu: a pork-bone stock, often with chicken in the pot too, seasoned with a soy-based tare. It's opaque, tan-coloured, rich and assertively salty. If the idea of mixing a stock style with a seasoning style is new to you, the four big flavours explains how that works.
- The oil is chiyu (鶏油), golden chicken fat floating on top. It carries a wonderful savoury aroma and gives the soup its shine.
- The noodles are thick, straight and chewy, sturdy enough to stand up to all that richness.
- The toppings are usually chashu pork, a pile of cooked spinach (ほうれん草, hōrensō) and large sheets of nori, often standing upright against the side of the bowl. Some shops add a quail egg.
The spinach is a lovely touch. It's soft and slightly bitter, and it gives you a breather between mouthfuls of something very rich.
Your bowl, your way
Here's what makes iekei special. When you order, or when you hand over your ticket, staff will often ask how you'd like three things:
- Noodle firmness (麺の硬さ, men no katasa): katame (硬め, firm), futsū (普通, regular) or yawarakame (柔らかめ, soft)
- Strength of flavour (味の濃さ, aji no kosa): koime (濃いめ, stronger), futsū or usume (薄め, lighter)
- Amount of oil (油の量, abura no ryō): ōme (多め, more), futsū or sukuname (少なめ, less)
Regulars rattle off their order in one breath, and "katame, koime, ōme" (firm, strong, oily) is so well known among fans that it's practically a catchphrase. If you're not sure, zenbu futsū (全部普通, "everything regular") is a perfectly good answer. In fact, I'd say it's the best one the first time, because it shows you the balance the shop intends. You can push the dials next visit.
How to eat it
Iekei has a few habits worth borrowing.
- Get rice. Plenty of regulars order a small bowl of rice alongside. The soup is salty enough that rice makes a natural partner.
- Use the nori. Dip a sheet of nori in the soup, wrap it around a mouthful of rice and eat it in one go. It's one of the simple joys of this style.
- Visit the condiments. Counters often hold grated garlic, grated ginger and tōbanjan (豆板醤, chilli bean paste). Add them partway through to give the second half of the bowl a new character.
- Eat the spinach as you go. It refreshes your palate far better at intervals than all at once.
If you're planning where to try it, our iekei search shows shops across our Japan catalog. Yokohama is also home to the Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum, which makes a fine second stop for anyone travelling on their stomach.
A recipe you can inherit
What I love about iekei is the idea at its heart: that a way of cooking can be handed down like a family name. Every -ya shop is a little different, but you can taste the lineage in each bowl. And every time someone says "katame, koime, ōme" at a counter, they're joining a conversation that started in Yokohama half a century ago.