Ramen Nakama, The Scrandit: 'Serious return-visit material'

Josh Dickinson from the Scrandit has done it again; he's managed to find one of the best bowls of ramen in town.

I do enjoy the communal eating vibe of the Scrandit. I’m less convinced that the woman near the back enjoyed me taking pictures…

It can be difficult to know who or what to trust online. The promise of the most vibrant of pictures can lead to the dullest of meals, desaturating the senses and in the worst cases leaving you reeling. How could you have been led so far astray? Fooled by the words of inflated egos and freebies. 

Pop-ups can be the worst for this - they’re often not around long enough to attract any honest criticism and due to their ephemeral nature they generate a sense of urgency which increases the desire to visit. A conundrum indeed.

Few dishes make and break promises more keenly than ramen. Ramen promises everything. Ramen promises soul and warmth and adventure. But it’s fearfully common to dive in and hit the bottom all too soon, leaving you with a bruised nose and a battered wallet feeling sorry for yourself.

The Scrandit is a string of pop-up promises that has been well kept. Josh Dickinson, the owner, seems to be able to pick the talent that takes over his kitchen with terrifying precision. The latest kitchen takeover was apparently born out of a WhatsApp group; a surprising symbiosis of the pandemic and one that was gratefully received by the hundreds of loyal customers who have been ordering Ramen Nakama for years now. 

A slate of meh with a side of ginger-studded kimchi.

We start with gyoza which are unfortunately unremarkable. Eatchu retain the title in Bristol and are at no risk of having to step off the podium. By no means bad, but under-seasoned and a little too much of our attention is drawn to the dough. 

If this two person, home-cook-turned-chef team are to go forth and open a restaurant (which I sincerely and selfishly hope they do) they will need to master starters. 

The two bowls of ramen, tantanmen and mayu tonkotsu, tell a much more magical tale. 

The mayu tonkotsu is topped with two well rendered, slightly smoky curls of chashu pork belly that instantly surrenders on the tongue. The burnt garlic sesame oil is subtle but delightful and the broth is sensational. Richer than Taylor Swift following her sell-out Eras tour (legend), creamy and indulgent. It’s serious return-visit material. It’s this-will-put-the-shits-up-the-other-ramen-joints-in-Bristol material.

I actually can’t look at this picture, it makes me too sad that I’m not still there.

The tantanmen balances the scales with a generous slosh of spice. It’s slightly less endearing that its tonkotsu counterpart but it is still a masterpiece. As Lorde would say, they should hang this in the Louvre.

Tomo and Matsudai (if you don’t know them, you should!) ought to be looking over their shoulders. These broths carry more than just noodles and pork, they carry potential. 

Josh has done it again. The Scrandit is the worst kept secret in Bristol but the best kept promise indeed. Just 100 metres or so from the actual Beacon, the Scrandit lights up the Christmas steps on a rainy evening; sending signals to the people of Bristol to come and eat and be merry. 

Influence should be used wisely, so I feel it would be highly irresponsible of me to do anything other than urge you to cancel your plans, let down your friends and damn well ruin your relationships - if it means you can turn up at the Scrandit before the end of October and beg for a table. And Josh - keep up the good work. I’m watching, closely.

Ramen Nakama, The Scrandit, Christmas Steps, BS1 5BS

Words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour