Ramen Shack

From the moment it opened, San Juan Capistrano’s Ramen Shack was like a snowflake – an undeniably beautiful organic creation that seemed destined to disappear for reasons unrelated to the quality of its food. Today, more than two years after the Japanese noodle shop closed, the loss still feels raw.

To be clear, Orange County has had excellent ramen options for decades, with Shin-Sen-Gumi Hakata Ramen setting the bar for made-in-Japan-level authenticity back in 2000. Ramen Shack was a different story: A ramen shop made in America by Keizo Shimamoto, a Japanese-American obsessed with every conceivable nuance of the ramen experience, from subtleties of noodle texture and broth seasonings to plating and interior decor. Before relocating to Orange County, Shimamoto deservedly achieved fame in New York City, establishing the original Ramen Shack and a ramen noodle company.

In NYC, Ramen Shack didn’t simply clone one or three Japanese ramen styles. Like ramen masters across Japan, Shimamoto took elements from countless ramen dining and preparatory experiences, remixed them, and polished them into unimpeachably great bowls with different flavors and ingredients. He also invented the Ramen Burger, which quickly went viral on social media and became a hit at weekend Smorgasburg food gatherings, then was ripped off (poorly) at other food festivals.

The Ramen Burger wasn’t on the day one menu at San Juan Capistrano’s Ramen Shack, which made the regrettable mistake of opening in a space that was too small to accommodate Shimamoto’s capabilities and the crowds they would generate. Unlike Japan, where 10-seat ramen shops persist for decades thanks to lines of patient and hungry but not desperately hungry guests, guests were deterred by the heat and inconvenience of waiting for a table in sunny San Juan Capistrano – not exactly the local center of demand for Japanese food. Even so, superfans showed up to support Ramen Shack and enjoy as many of Shimamoto’s bowls as they could eat or freeze before the place inevitably closed. It was phenomenal as a restaurant, but not sustainable at that location as a business.

Despite the obvious challenges of operating in a location with too little kitchen and seating space, Ramen Shack’s menu did as much as it could to offer a consistently high-quality spectrum of ramen variety and authenticity. Every bowl was delicious and beautiful, generally riffing on either tonkotsu (pork broth) or shoyu (here, chicken soy broth) styles, with sliced pork and seaweed as near constants, various onion, spinach, chili and/or spice powder, bamboo shoot, and garlic elements appearing as appropriate to a given order. Thick green curry and “ganja-style” tsukemen dipping noodles also appeared at times.