Hakata Tonkotsu
Twelve-hour pork broth, thin noodles, chashu, kikurage, ajitama and black garlic oil.
See the menu →Slow-simmered tonkotsu, noodles pulled to order, and a counter full of robata skewers and small plates — served under paper lanterns with Shōwa pop records spinning all night.
Chef Hiroshi Tanaka grew up on the floor of his grandmother’s shokudō in Osaka, prep-stool close to the broth pots. In 2013 he brought that kitchen to a narrow storefront on SE Hawthorne and named it for the Shōwa-era kayōkyoku ballads that still play off vinyl behind the bar.
We hold the broth for twelve hours, pull the noodles in-house, and fire the robata until the counter smells like a back-alley yokochō. One room, one long cedar counter, and a menu that reads like a night out in old Tokyo.
Four broths, pulled noodles, and toppings layered like a record on a turntable. Add a seasoned egg and extra chashu to any bowl.
Twelve-hour pork broth, thin noodles, chashu, kikurage, ajitama and black garlic oil.
See the menu →Red miso and chili tare, ground pork, corn, scallion and a swirl of rayu heat.
See the menu →Sesame-chili broth, crispy mince, bok choy and a soft egg over wavy noodles.
See the menu →Coconut-curry tori paitan, grilled chicken, lime, shaved onion and cilantro.
See the menu →The other half of the night: skewers off the coals, things fried crisp, and plates made for sharing over a cold one.
Six crescent dumplings, pan-seared and steamed, with black vinegar and rayu.
See the menu →Marinated thigh, double-fried golden, with kewpie yuzu-koshō aioli and lemon.
See the menu →Seared coulotte, ponzu, fried garlic, shaved onion and toasted sesame.
See the menu →“The tonkotsu is the real thing — rich enough to stand a spoon in — and the room feels like a little pocket of Shōwa Tokyo dropped onto Hawthorne. We came for ramen and stayed three hours for sake and skewers.”
We keep the counter open for walk-ins, but weekend tables fill fast. Book ahead and we’ll have the broth hot and a record ready.