Mugitooribu (which translates as wheat and olive) blends together an uncommon triple soup of chicken broth, dashi, and clam broth for a deep sensation of umami. The noodles are imported from a respected factory in Kyoto, and the eggs come from Japan's No. 1 supplier, Sailor (セーラー). Be sure to add a little of the original olive oil condiment for another layer of flavor.

The entire menu at Tanaka Second is good, but the kakesoba really stands out. The soup, made with abalone and Japanese spiny lobster, is so decadent that it is served plain with noodles — no toppings muddy the shock of uncut ocean flavor. Owner-chef Tanaka-san is a surfer who lives by the sea, and the ramen reflects his sensibility. Though limited to just 30 bowls a day, it rarely sells out.

Mensho Tokyo's master, Shono-san, has a few shops, each with a different style. His fifth shop, just outside Tokyo Dome, serves pork tonkotsu and lamb bone soup, a unique style of his own invention. His shop’s counter is packed with condiments, such as roasted tea powder and an original spice made with star anise and cloves.

Kabochan unexpectedly combines two Japanese specialties: ramen and kakigōri (shaved ice). The ramen, especially the miso, is beloved by ramen nerds for its blend of pungent miso and an original spice blend, while the kakigōri is the perfect after-ramen dessert — not too heavy or sweet, and always prepared with the freshest seasonal fruits. Try to arrive about 20 minutes before it opens at 6 p.m., as the shop only seats six people.

There is a reason Tsuta was the first ramen shop in Tokyo to be awarded a Michelin star: The signature shoyusoba bowl features shoyu made from a blend of craft soy sauce, spiked with homemade truffle paste. Be sure to get there early in the morning (tickets are given out at 7 a.m.) for a timed ticket, then come back for one of the cheapest Michelin-starred meals (¥1,000 for their standard bowl of shoyusoba) on the planet.

Most ramen is pork-based, and Yamaguchi's soup is worth experiencing simply because it is 100 percent chicken broth, rounded by light accents of dashi and a premium soy sauce. Most regulars order the torisoba (chicken noodles) and an extra serving of the shop's sous vide chicken chāshū as a topping.

Saikoro has been serving what the owner, Koitani-san, calls “Japanese soul noodles” — his version of the ultimate comfort food — for about 15 years. Thick noodles are made upstairs and paired with with a traditional shoyu soup. Funk music is often playing on the stereo, which befits a shop named “dice,” after the dice hanging from the owner's Cadillac mirror.

Fuunji has officially been discovered, thanks to travel guides, bloggers, and Instagrammers. Since opening in 2007, it has always had a line, but now the people lining up are no longer just locals. Don't be dismayed: it moves quickly. Tsukemen, noodles meant to be dipped in a thick chicken and dried fish soup stock, is the dish to order. You'll be asked if you want nami (normal) or omori (large). Unless you are starving, nami should be fine.

Tucked away in the recess of a random building, next to a stairwell, with no street-side windows, Suzuran feels obscure, with a quiet, high-end feel. The prices are a little higher than at other ramen shops (¥1,650 for kakunimen, or stewed pork ramen), but every aspect of the meal, down to the porcelain bowl, is of the highest quality. It’s known for house-made noodles and juicy cuts of meat, especially the chāshūmen (braised pork ramen) or kakunimen.