The only good thing about a cold, rainy week is the excuse it offers to go out and get ramen. Ah! There’s nothing like tucking into a hot, steamy bowl of Japanese noodle soup when it’s grey and miserable outside. From the rich, fat-swirled depths of tonkotsu to the savouriness of miso or the salty spike of shio, there’s nothing this warming winter bowl can’t fix.

For every type of ramen, there’s a fanatic who wouldn’t slurp their noodles any other way. And that goes for abura soba too, which is the lesser-known soupless variety. “No soup?” we hear you cry. “But why? The broth is the best bit!”

The tradition for dry ramen started in the Kitatatama district of Tokyo in the 1950s, after a restaurant ditched the liquids to help keep up with the lunchtime rush. Seven decades later, it’s become a subclass of the soup, now demanding long, winding lunch queues of its own.

If you still have your doubts, then head to Haymarket to check out Sydney’s newest abura soba spot – Kajiken. The Japanese-owned chain started in Nagoya in 2010, and now has more than 100 outlets worldwide, with stores splashed across China, Singapore and the US.

On a wet weekend, Kajiken is filled to the brim with soaked Sydneysiders, hunched over bowls of hot oily noodles. The sleek, contemporary space has been decked out in light timbers and hanging Japanese lanterns to recreate the feeling of a backstreet ramen-ya.

Without the soup to worry about, the noodles become the focus of the dish. You can even watch them being made at the front of the eatery, where a stainless-steel machine rolls out thick yellow sheets of dough and then cuts them into springy corkscrew curls.

Abura soba is typically served with the traditional ramen toppings, mainly chashu (braised pork), nori and bamboo shoots, but at Kajiken, that selection has been expanded.

The signature is the homura abura soba, a Japanese-style bolognese, made from a spicy pork mince, seasoned with chilli, garlic and umami-rich niboshi (fish powder). Other toppings include the crispy soft shell crab in a thick, craggy crust, or red-rare slabs of Wagyu beef, so tender they come apart with the slightest chopsticks pull.

Add on your accompaniments, from corn to fried onion and cod roe and then choose your egg. There’s raw yolk, the ajitama soy-boiled variety or the light and custardy, just-cooked onsen tamago.

Soba, so good. Now for the most important part of the dish – the mixing. Burst the egg and bring the whole thing together with your chopsticks and spoon, tossing the noodles through the oily tare (sauce) at the bottom of the bowl.

And finally, it’s time to eat. As expected, the best part of each bowl is the noodles, which are deliciously firm and chewy, with just the right amount of bite. If you’re not completely happy with the flavour you can adjust the seasonings yourself, adding vinegar, chilli oil, garlic and sesame from the bottles on the table.

One bowl is usually enough, but you can also bulk up your order with sides, from crispy gyoza to bonito-topped takoyaki balls.

But it’s the abura soba you’ll be back for. In fact, once you try it this way, you’ll wonder why everyone else adds soup.