Ramen Styles

Sapporo miso: the bowl built for snow

Wok-seared vegetables, a lid of lard and noodles with real bite. Sapporo's miso ramen was made for long Hokkaido winters, and every spoonful shows it.

4 min readSoupmap Journal

Sapporo is a city that knows snow. It hosted the 1972 Winter Olympics, and every February its streets fill with ice sculptures for its famous snow festival. So it makes a kind of sense that the city's best-known bowl behaves like a good winter coat: thick, warm and built to hold its heat.

That bowl is miso ramen. For a lot of people in Japan, "Sapporo ramen" and "miso ramen" still mean more or less the same thing.

A young style that travelled fast

Next to the soy-seasoned noodle soups Tokyo was already selling in the early twentieth century, miso ramen is a newcomer. It's a postwar creation, and it belongs to Sapporo.

The shop most often credited is Aji no Sanpei (味の三平), which is widely said to have created miso ramen in the mid-1950s. As with most food origins, the story gets told in slightly different ways, but the city and the era aren't in much doubt. Through the 1950s and 1960s, Sapporo made miso ramen its own, and the style spread from there across the country.

It isn't hard to see why it caught on. Miso (味噌), fermented soybean paste, was already in every Japanese kitchen as the base of everyday miso soup. Putting it into ramen produced something familiar and new at the same time: deeper, sweeter and more filling than a clear soy broth. If you'd like to see where miso sits among ramen's other big seasonings, I've laid them all out in the four big flavours.

How the bowl is built

What makes a Sapporo miso ramen distinctive isn't only the miso. It's the wok.

In the classic method, the cook heats lard in a wok and stir-fries vegetables, typically bean sprouts, cabbage and onion, together with minced pork. When everything is sizzling and lightly scorched at the edges, in goes the stock with the miso seasoning, and the whole lot comes to the boil together before it's poured over the noodles.

That quick, fierce frying matters. It gives the soup a toasty, faintly smoky depth that you don't get from simply stirring miso into hot broth, and it means the vegetables arrive with some crunch rather than stewed.

Then there's the fat. A Sapporo miso bowl usually wears a glossy layer of lard on the surface, and it does a practical job. Like a lid, it slows the soup from cooling. The flip side is that the bowl can be far hotter than it looks, because the oil traps the steam that would normally warn you.

The miso itself varies from shop to shop. Many blend several kinds, and some work garlic, ginger, sesame or chilli into the paste. If you're curious how much the paste alone can change a dish, there's a whole world in the types of miso.

A soup this rich needs noodles that can stand up to it, and Sapporo's are thick, curly and a deep yellow. The colour and the springy chew come largely from kansui (かん水), the alkaline mineral water used in ramen dough. I've written about why it matters in kansui and the ramen noodle.

The curls aren't decoration. They catch soup and little crumbs of minced pork, so every mouthful brings some of the broth up with it. The firm texture also holds up well as the bowl sits, which is just as well, given how long a scalding miso ramen takes to finish.

Butter, corn and other northern habits

Hokkaido is Japan's dairy country, and it grows a great deal of sweetcorn, so it's no surprise that the two most popular add-ons are a pat of butter and a spoonful of corn.

Order miso batā kōn (味噌バターコーン, miso butter corn) and the butter slowly melts into the broth, softening the salt and adding a rich, rounded sweetness. The corn sinks and turns up at the bottom of the bowl like buried treasure. Purists may raise an eyebrow, but I think the combination is a perfect expression of where the dish comes from.

Other common toppings include chashu pork, menma (bamboo shoots) and chopped green onion. Some shops finish the bowl with a little grated ginger, which cuts through all that richness beautifully.

How to eat it

A few practical notes for your first Sapporo bowl:

  • Respect the heat. Thanks to the lard, the soup stays very hot for a long time. Take your first sip slowly.
  • Taste before the butter melts. If you've ordered butter, try the broth straight away and again a few minutes later. It's two soups in one bowl.
  • Use the spoon. Minced pork and corn settle at the bottom. Scoop them up along with the noodles.
  • Take your time. Thick Sapporo noodles stay firm, so there's no need to race them.

In Sapporo itself, the ramen alleys around the Susukino nightlife district are a well-known place to start, and our map of Sapporo-style shops will help you find bowls elsewhere too. Hokkaido has two other celebrated ramen cities as well, Asahikawa for shoyu and Hakodate for shio, if you feel like travelling by noodle.

A bowl shaped by weather

The best regional foods tend to make perfect sense where they come from, and Sapporo miso is a fine example. Every part of it, from the wok-seared vegetables to the lid of fat to the butter melting on top, seems designed with a freezing night in mind. Eat it somewhere warm and it's delicious. Eat it after a walk through the snow, and I suspect you'll understand it.

Find Sapporo-style shops on the map