Ramen toppings: a glossary for the counter

Toppings are the first thing you see and, I would argue, the last thing you should judge a bowl by. The soup and noodles do the heavy lifting. But toppings are where a bowl shows its personality, its home region and sometimes its sense of humour. They are also where a ticket machine full of unfamiliar words can stop a hungry traveller in their tracks.

In Japanese, the ingredients on top of a bowl are called gu (具). Here is a field guide to the ones you are most likely to meet, and what each one tells you about the bowl it sits in.

The classics

Chashu (チャーシュー). Slices of pork, and the topping many bowls are built around. The name comes from Chinese char siu, which is roasted pork, but in Japanese ramen chashu is usually braised: pork belly or shoulder, often rolled and tied, then simmered slowly in a soy-based liquid until tender. Some shops roast, sear or slow-cook it at a low temperature instead. A bowl loaded with extra slices is usually called chashu-men (チャーシュー麺).

Ajitsuke tamago (味付け玉子), or ajitama (味玉) for short. A soft-boiled egg marinated in a soy-based mix, so the white turns tan and savoury while the yolk stays jammy. It is often an add-on rather than standard, and I think it is one of the best small pleasures on almost any menu.

Menma (メンマ). Seasoned bamboo shoots. The bamboo is boiled, fermented and preserved, then simmered in seasoning before it reaches your bowl. Menma brings a gentle crunch and a mild, savoury sweetness.

Nori (海苔). Sheets of dried seaweed, usually tucked upright against the side of the bowl. You can dip them in the soup and wrap them around a mouthful of noodles, or let them soften. In Yokohama-style iekei ramen, a row of nori sheets is part of the signature look.

Negi (ネギ). Green onion, in endless forms: finely sliced green tops, thin shreds of the white part, or chopped and piled high. In Kyoto you may meet Kujo negi (九条ねぎ), a tender, sweet local variety that some shops heap on very generously.

Old-school and regional

Naruto (なると). A slice of white fish cake with a pink spiral running through it. The name is usually said to come from the whirlpools of the Naruto Strait in Tokushima. Naruto has become a kind of cartoon shorthand for ramen, and it is a hallmark of old-fashioned Tokyo shoyu chuka soba.

Moyashi (もやし). Bean sprouts, for crunch and freshness. Sapporo miso ramen often comes with them stir-fried alongside other vegetables, and at Ramen Jiro and its many imitators they arrive as a towering mound with cabbage.

Kikurage (木耳). Wood-ear mushroom, cut into dark strips with a springy, almost crunchy bite. It is a familiar sight in Kyushu's tonkotsu bowls.

Beni shoga (紅しょうが). Bright red pickled ginger, sharp and salty. In many Hakata-style tonkotsu shops it sits on the counter in a self-serve pot, along with toasted sesame seeds and spicy pickled mustard greens. A little cuts through the richness beautifully.

Butter and corn (バターコーン). Sweet corn kernels and a pat of butter slowly melting into the soup, a pairing closely tied to Sapporo and to Hokkaido more broadly. It sounds odd and tastes marvellous, especially on a miso bowl. See our piece on Sapporo miso ramen.

Spinach (ほうれん草). Wilted spinach is one of the signature toppings of iekei ramen, alongside chashu and nori. Its slight bitterness balances the rich pork-and-soy soup.

Reading the ticket machine

At shops with a ticket machine, toppings usually get their own buttons. A few useful words:

• Tokusei (特製): "special", usually the house bowl with extra toppings, often an egg and more chashu.
• Ajitama (味玉): the marinated egg, as above.
• Mashi (増し): "more", as in nori mashi or negi mashi for extra nori or extra green onion.
• Zenbu nose (全部のせ): "everything on top".

If you are unsure how the machines work, our ticket machine guide walks you through it.

My advice for a first visit is to order the standard bowl, perhaps with an egg, and see what the shop considers complete. You can always add more next time. The shop's own idea of balance is the thing most worth tasting.

A word for restraint

It is tempting to treat toppings as a points system, where more always means better. I don't think it works that way. A beautifully made clear soup with two slices of chashu, a few bamboo shoots and a scattering of negi can be far more satisfying than a bowl buried under everything on the menu.

The best toppings feel as if they were chosen for that particular soup. When you finish a bowl and every element seemed to belong there, that is when you know a cook has been thinking.