Birthplace of Tonkotsu Ramen —
the City Where Everything Tastes Good

Honestly — Fukuoka is the birthplace of tonkotsu ramen. A bowl here differs from anywhere else in one thing: an overnight white broth, with pork bones simmered until all the collagen melts away, thin straight Hakata-style noodles cooked for just 45 seconds so they still have bounce, two or three slices of chashu pork, and finely sliced fresh spring onion — that's it, nothing extra. Order the noodles "kata" (firm) or "barikata" (very firm) if you like them with more bite.

If you've never eaten at a yatai, Fukuoka is the only place in Japan where it really happens. There are over 100 of them across three main districts, open only at night along the streets or the riverbank, each with just 8-10 seats, a roof and a stove right inside. You eat amid the steam and the sound of boiling water, next to people who might be company owners or tourists from elsewhere. The menus run from ramen to yakitori, oden, seafood and seasonal dishes.

Have you ever eaten hot white rice topped with mentaiko? If not, that's an experience missing from your life. Orange-red pollock roe, marinated in a spicy, salty sauce, eaten over hot steamed rice — one bowl and you're happy. Fukuoka is the city that invented this dish — the Fukuya brand created the original recipe in 1949. Today you can have it raw, grilled, in pasta, or wrapped into onigiri.

If "pork offal" doesn't sound appetising, try it first and decide afterwards. Motsunabe is the hot pot Fukuoka is proudest of after ramen — fresh pork or beef offal simmered in a shoyu- or miso-style broth with a huge amount of cabbage, garlic, spring onion and red togarashi chilli. You eat it around the table at a shop that sets up the stove for you. The offal is meltingly tender, the rich broth soaks into the vegetables, and you finish with a bowl of chanpon noodles in the leftover broth.

This dish can only exist in Fukuoka — because it needs mackerel so fresh it comes off the boat and reaches the table within the same hour. Fresh sliced mackerel sashimi, lightly marinated in soy sauce, mirin, sake, ground white sesame and sesame oil, eaten as a rice bowl (goma saba donburi) or as straight sashimi. The flavour is full-on ocean fish with no fishiness, a fragrant sesame aroma, and a faint sweetness from the mirin — the best seafood in this city.

If motsunabe is intense winter food, mizutaki is elegance — a Hakata chicken hot pot simmered in a chicken stock until the broth turns a soft creamy white, with fresh pieces of chicken, tofu and leafy greens, eaten with a mild-sour ponzu dipping sauce and white sesame. The traditional way is to drink the broth first, then eat the chicken, and finish with zosui rice porridge in the leftover broth. A meal that fills you up cleanly.

Hakata gyoza are served in a screaming-hot iron skillet — the whole pan, not a ceramic plate — and that's the difference. Minced pork filling with ginger, garlic and finely chopped cabbage, wrapped in a thinner-than-standard skin and fried in the iron pan until the bottoms turn crisp like a bread crust. Eat them dipped in vinegar and chilli oil — you can finish a whole pan without realising. Hakata gyoza are usually smaller and fried drier than Tokyo's.

Something most people don't know: before Fukuoka became famous for ramen, people here ate udon first — and Hakata udon is clearly different from Sanuki udon (the Kagawa style). Hakata udon noodles are softer, smoother and soak up more broth; they don't aim for the "bounce" of Sanuki. The broth is clear, made from kombu and fish, a pale gold colour. The most distinctive toppings are kitsune (sweet fried tofu) or gobou ten (burdock root tempura). A dish that looks simple but, once you eat it, shows care in every part.

A dish invented in Fukuoka that you can barely find anywhere else — tonkotsu ramen noodles stir-fried on a screaming-hot iron griddle with minced pork, vegetables and Worcestershire sauce, finished with a splash of tonkotsu broth instead of water. The result is stir-fried noodles with the smoky scent of hot iron — not a soup, not ordinary fried noodles, somewhere between the two. It's believed to have started at a yatai in the Nagahama district, from a chef experimenting to create a new dish out of the ingredients on hand.

The best example of Japanese fusion that actually makes sense — spaghetti (or linguine) tossed with raw mentaiko, butter, soy sauce and crushed dried seaweed, stirred while hot so the roe melts and coats the strands. The flavour is a mild salty cream, faintly spicy, with the pretty pink-orange colour of mentaiko. It's a dish invented in Tokyo but built on Fukuoka's signature ingredient. In Fukuoka there are many mentaiko pasta shops using fresh roe from the local market.

Fukuoka is the birthplace of Akiyoshi — the largest yakitori chain in Japan — but the best is still found at small shops and yatai that grill each skewer right in front of you. Negima skewers (chicken and spring onion), tsukune (chicken meatballs), torikawa (crispy chicken skin) — eaten with a draft Asahi or Sapporo beer at a night-time yatai. Choose tare (sweet soy) or shio (salt) as you like. At most yatai, skewers run ¥100–200 each; pick several and it's a lot of fun shared with friends.

Fukuoka has its own port, and Yanagibashi Market calls itself "the kitchen of Fukuoka" — fish, shellfish and shrimp arrive every morning. The kaisen-don here is hot white rice topped with uni (sea urchin roe), salmon sashimi, tuna, shrimp and ikura (salmon roe); some shops add goma saba too. Eat it as a lunch at Yanagibashi Market or at a kaisendon shop near Hakata Station. If you're going to eat seafood, this is the most worthwhile meal of all.