To write this place off as a slurp-and-dash noodle joint would be a huge mistake. Skip the lunchtime ramen rush and return in the evening, when mood lighting transforms the concrete interiors into a slinky backstreet haunt.

While you wait for your broth to boil, make a head start on the snacks. There’s a prawn and egg roll, which ditches the seaweed sleeve for a soft hot dog roll, or the fried rock potato, a shattered spud squirted with an umami-rich kombu mayo. Guacamole makes a surprise appearance on the menu, the bright green smash served with juicy hunks of prawn meat and bubbly cups for scooping, made from deep-fried gyoza wrappers.

By now, the ramen should be ready. There’s the famous kogashi, a charred chicken soup swirled with burnt black flecks, and the tonkotsu, a bowl of pork broth, thick and luscious with fat and collagen, finished with rashers of chashu and a soft yolked egg. Both will leave you sweaty, satisfied and in a happy, contended daze. If you have any stomach space left for liquids, the bar do an excellent whiskey sour with umeboshi plums.