Noodled.

This is a story about how a day with no plan led to a visit to a restaurant that has been on my hit list for years. It was a day born from sunshine, weather that thankfully had carried over from a blazing hot week. After The European had finished her performing arts practice and I had completed a bit of housework, we headed straight into Central London to see where the sunny day might take us.

It turned out that all roads (and rails) led to Pride. We had completely forgotten the parade was this weekend. As we headed west on the Elizabeth Line, in a carriage full of flags, colourful outfits, and great vibes, we made plans to hit Bone Daddies, partly out of the need for redemption following a failed attempt last weekend to find their Bermondsey restaurant, and partly because their limited edition Laksa ramen was being discontinued in twenty-four hours. We headed straight to Bond Street Station, as there’s a branch nearby on James Street that we’ve visited before and it’s often quieter than their restaurants in Theatreland.

Having bagged a table outside in the sun, we had a great lunch. The European got her Laksa ramen and I had their Yuzu Tonkotsu, a flavourful beast, taken to the next level with crunchy fried pork. We shared fried chicken and enjoyed a couple of cans of their Hiro SIPA brewed by Deya; of Cheltenham, of all places.

Bone Daddies never disappoints. That said, cracks have appeared over time. From the looks of the photos on my blog post from my first visit in February 2023, the ramen has become a little stingier. On a recent visit to Bond Street only a couple of weeks before, the bao buns were unacceptably sloppy. Nevertheless, there are few better places in town to eat ramen.

We left Bone Daddies and set off on our unplanned, “Let’s see where the wind takes us” London adventure. We splurged in Uniqlo and bought sneakers in Allbirds. We chanced upon a great kawaii shop where I bought The European enamel badges and she gifted me some socks, before getting free bubblegum ice cream in the basement (yes, I know this sounds like how some serial killer movies start). We snaked through Pride parties and basked in the energy and fun that makes London at this time of year hit so wonderfully different. We moved north, picking up Swedish groceries at ScandiKitchen in Fitzrovia.

It was a wonderful fifteen thousand steps in the city, and good times on willing feet get the stomachs rumbling. Standing outside ScandiKitchen, we hatched an unhinged plan: to walk back to Tottenham Court Road to catch the train home and, if there was room, visit Kanada-Ya for more ramen. Part of me wanted there to be space, but I’ll not lie, part of me, my still-swollen tummy – not yet eager for anything more, thanks to the appetite-sapping heat – was fine as things were, and maybe the Lizzie Line home and a Huel shake later in the evening would be all that would be needed to wrap up a great day.

As luck would have it (you can read that sarcastically or not), there was just one table left outside Kanada-Ya. Two ladies were heading straight for it and I swear to god I have never seen The European move so fast. She dived on that table like Yogi Bear on a picnic basket. It was a hot seat. Most outside tables at Kanada-Ya are overlooked by the window-side counter seating inside, meaning that you eat your ramen while someone peers at you inches away through the glass. This table was next to a blacked-out window that seemed to be obscuring the kitchen. Inside, tables are packed together rough and ready, with no frills anywhere. Though I love its charm – it’s as close to a traditional Japanese ramen bar as I have seen in London – being outside where there’s space, peace, and air, is much nicer, especially on a warm day like today.

I use the word “peace” loosely. You’re sat on the pavement, a metre away from the wide and crazy St. Giles High Street, a bustling road from Holborn to Oxford Street that also offers convenient access to Soho and Tottenham Court Road. It’s also a bus stand, a meeting place for those gaudy pedicabs, and a favourite thoroughfare for, shall we say, the ‘dodgier’ characters around town. In short, eating here was done so in a constant state of stress, getting knocked into by pissed Essex girls in town for a stag do or accosted by panhandlers, all to the tune of the beeps of taxis and the house music of the pedicabs, as well as the fumes of buses idling at the side of the road.

The food saved the day. The ramen at Kanada-Ya was as good as my ex-colleague said it would be, years ago, when I told her “Yes, yes, I’ll go”. Face down into my Tonkotsu X (pork and chicken broth, chashu pork belly, yuzu-shoyu and wood ear fungus) the chaos was swiftly forgiven, then slowly forgotten. The European enjoyed her spicy Gekikara equally so; the heap of spiced minced pork erupting from the spicy blood-red pork and chicken broth like an umami volcano looked very tempting indeed.

When you order the ramen, you choose the firmness of your noodles and accompaniments like ginger, sesame seeds and pickles. You can add a Hanjuku ramen egg – the best freaking egg you ever did eat – for an extra £2.65. We enjoyed the ramen with plates of chicken karaage and kinoko (oyster mushroom) karaage, served with a choice of dips (we chose wasabi and lime). Both were fine, but surplus to requirements. You can even ‘go large’ with your ramen for £five more, but not even these two little piggies would need to do that here. Service was pleasant but perfunctory (just the way I like it in places like this) and the meal was washed down with cans of Monsuta Okinawa Dry beer.

It’s worth noting that Kanada-Ya doesn’t just do ramen. There’s lots of variety on the menu, from katsudon to katsu curry, and even salads. This is a great excuse to return, not that we really needed one. After paying the very reasonable bill, we headed down the road to the station, and home. We both fell into food comas soon afterwards.

Debate will rage in our household about who does ramen better – Bone Daddies or Kanada-Ya. It might be moot – there are 46,346,950,923 other ramen bars in London we have yet to try, but these two seem like a great place to start. This noodle doubleheader was completed back in June, if you can believe it. Life once again has gotten in the way, in a big way at that, as we are currently midway through an apartment purchase. We found time (and money) to visit Kanada-Ya once again only last weekend, and while chowing down on equally amazing ramen on the same table with the same stresses (one man tried to steal our kinoko karaage and another tried to grab my phone while distracting me with a newspaper) we agreed on the following:

Bone Daddies has better broth and the odds of you being shanked on the street are lower, but Kanada-Ya is the better all-rounder and dare I say it, feels a little more authentic in its grubbiness. But heavens, don’t take our word for it. Get out there and stick your head in a bowl of your own.

Both Bone Daddies and Kanada-Ya will do a bowl of ramen for around £fifteen, and sides for £eight each, and beers for £six. Both will offer a meal for two for around £sixty including service.