How a Sapporo Saké House Became Part of Men-Eiji's Broth Philosophy
Walk into either of Men-Eiji's two Sapporo locations on a winter evening and the steam rising from a bowl of gyokai-tonkotsu carries more than pork and seafood. Hidden inside the broth is a quiet collaboration with a family brewery just outside the city, one that has shaped how Jun Furukawa thinks about depth, fermentation, and the way a single ingredient can quietly rework an entire recipe.
The alliance began in the most unremarkable way possible: a shared lunch, a half-finished bottle, and a conversation about koji. What started as an exchange of ideas between a ramen chef and a toji (master brewer) has grown into a fixture of Men-Eiji's identity, an arrangement that travelled with the team to international pop-ups and now informs every simmer at Hiragishi BASE and Duck Ramen EIJI.
For diners following the brand from cities like Sydney or Melbourne, where Japanese craft beverages are gaining shelf space faster than ever, the story offers a window into how ramen traditions keep evolving on their home turf. It also explains why the next time you sip a small carafe at a Men-Eiji tasting, the liquid in your glass and the broth in your bowl are speaking the same quiet language.
Where a Chef and a Toji First Met
Jun Furukawa had been experimenting with fermented off-cuts of the sea for years before the brewery entered his life. He worked at a series of Hokkaido kitchens, then trained under masters who taught him to read broth the way a sommelier reads wine. By the time he opened the first Men-Eiji in 2012, the gyokai-tonkotsu style was already his signature, but he was still chasing a softer, rounder finish.
The brewer, Koji Tanaka of Tanaka Shuzo, runs a small kura in the hills south of Sapporo, near the town of Yoichi. Tanaka's father and grandfather made crisp, dry junmai; Tanaka himself became obsessed with richer, umami-forward styles after a stint in Niigata. When Furukawa visited the kura on a friend's recommendation, the toji offered a glass of his namazake, still cloudy, pulled straight from the tank. Furukawa tasted koji, rice, and something faintly dairy. He asked what was left in the fermenter. The answer, it turned out, was the missing piece he had been searching for.
That first meeting turned into a year of trial batches. Furukawa would drive forty minutes from his kitchen to the brewery, often before dawn, to pick up freshly pressed sake kasu (sake lees) and bring them back to the simmer pot. Some batches were too sharp; others collapsed into sweetness. By the third winter, they had landed on a ratio and a temperature curve that gave the broth a quiet, nutty backbone without overpowering the pork bones or the dried scallops.
Why Saké Kasu Works in a Gyokai-Tonkotsu
Saké lees are the dense, pale paste left after rice mash has been pressed for its liquid. They are roughly a third protein, packed with amino acids, yeast, and the residual sugars of fermentation. In cooking, they act as both a flavour carrier and a natural tenderiser, softening proteins and rounding sharp edges. Chefs across Hokkaido have used them in miso, in fish marinades, and in cream-based sauces, but dropping them into a long-simmered pork and seafood broth is a less common move.
The chemistry is the easy part to explain. What makes the Men-Eiji version distinctive is restraint. Furukawa adds the kasu late, after the primary tonkotsu extraction is done, then holds the pot at a lower temperature so the lees dissolve without scorching. The result is a broth that finishes with a soft lactic note, almost yogurt-like, which lifts the heavier pork tones and makes the briny scallop flavours sing. Diners who taste it side by side with a regular gyokai-tonkotsu often describe the brewery version as cleaner and warmer.
It is also why the broth pairs so well with rich dipping noodles, where the sake-kasu base can carry heavier tare. For readers curious about how the same kitchen handles heat and spice, Men-Eiji's spicy ramen walks through the layering of aromatics in their chilli oil build.
Taking the Kura to International Pop-Ups
Once the broth was locked in, Furukawa and Tanaka began appearing together at events. Their first overseas outing was a small pop-up in Singapore, organised by a Japanese cultural foundation, where they served a paired menu of three ramens and three sake cups. Tanaka flew in with two suitcases of bottles; Furukawa built a portable burner rig in a hawker-style kitchen and simmered bones for fourteen hours to meet service. The queue wrapped around the block.
From there, the schedule grew. They have staged collaborative dinners in Taipei, Hong Kong, and most recently in Sydney, where a single-night event at a Surry Hills izakaya sold out within forty-eight hours. For Australian guests, the appeal is partly the novelty of seeing a Hokkaido kura's work outside Japan, but it is also about how naturally the pairing fits into the country's growing interest in craft Japanese beverages. Imports from smaller Hokkaido breweries have roughly doubled in Australian bottle shops over the past three years, and the team sees room to grow that further.
Tanaka's role at these events goes beyond pouring. He talks diners through the fermentation curve that produced each cup, explaining why a warmer, slightly sweet kimoto sits so well with a fatty tonkotsu, while a drier ginjo can cut through shellfish oil. Furukawa, meanwhile, has begun experimenting with small amounts of finished sake instead of water in certain tare builds, a move that adds a layer of complexity he is still refining.
A second Australian date is already being negotiated for late 2026, with Melbourne and Brisbane both in the running. The Melbourne option would slot into the city's well-worn laneway dining circuit; the Brisbane option would lean on its expanding Japanese quarter around Eagle Street. Either way, the team is working with a Melbourne-based cold-chain partner to make shipping frozen broth bases across hemispheres viable.
Recognition and What's Ahead
Recognition came in waves. Men-Eiji earned a Michelin Bib Gourmand, an award that recognises high-quality cooking at moderate prices, in 2022, then retained it across two more guide cycles. Local Sapporo food writers began naming the brewery collaboration specifically as a reason for repeat visits, and several Japanese culinary podcasts ran features on the joint project during the Hokkaido winter of 2023.
What Furukawa values most, however, is harder to measure. Regulars at Hiragishi BASE started ordering the brewery-batch broth by name once it appeared on the menu, and Tanaka now keeps a dedicated fermenter running through spring and summer specifically for Men-Eiji's kitchen. The two brands are not formally merged, and Furukawa is quick to point out that the brewery serves many other restaurants and bottle shops. Still, the operational closeness has reached the point where a bad harvest at the kura would be felt in Sapporo ramen bowls within a week.
As Australian readers tracking Japanese food trends will know, similar brewery-restaurant pairings are beginning to appear in Melbourne's laneway dining scene and in Brisbane's expanding Japanese quarter. The model is portable, but Furukawa believes it only works when chefs and brewers share a kitchen language, something that took him and Tanaka several seasons to develop. Looking ahead, the pair are weighing a limited-edition namazake can brewed for pop-ups, alongside an Australian residency where Tanaka would work with local grain growers on locally milled koji rice.
Saké Styles and How They Sit with the Menu
Pairing sake with ramen is still a young idea in most dining rooms, partly because the high heat of a broth can flatten delicate aromatics. The Men-Eiji team treats the table below as a working guide, not a fixed rule, and adjusts based on what each brewery batch brings to the pot on a given day.
| Saké style | Flavour profile | Best menu match at Men-Eiji | Service suggestion |
|---|---|---|---|
| Namazake (unpasteurised) | Fresh, lively, faint lactic lift | Brewery-batch gyokai-tonkotsu | Chilled, in a small ceramic cup |
| Kimoto | Rich, earthy, deep umami | Duck Ramen EIJI's signature shoyu tare | Slightly warmed to bring out depth |
| Junmai ginjo | Clean, dry, floral aromatics | Spicy miso variation, lighter broths | Chilled, paired with a small seafood starter |
| Sparkling nigori | Cloudy, sweet, creamy finish | Late-night dipping noodles, heavier tare | Cold, in a stemmed glass to lift the mousse |
For diners who want to keep exploring the same fermentation logic at home, the umami bomb recipe traces how the kitchen builds depth across its seasoning blends.
Pouring and Pairing Notes for First-Time Visitors
- Ask staff which broth is currently running with the brewery batch, as the rotation changes with the season and the kura's supply.
- Start with a small cup of namazake if you have never tasted unpasteurised sake, since its freshness is the most direct expression of the kura's house style.
- Pair heavier tonkotsu with kimoto or junmai, both of which carry enough body to match the richness without disappearing behind it.
- Save sparkling nigori for the end of the meal, especially if you are ordering a sweet dessert or a rich dipping noodle course.
- If you are visiting during a Sapporo winter, try a gently warmed kimoto with the duck-based ramen at Duck Ramen EIJI, where the roasted notes of the bird meet the earthy sake beautifully.
- Take a bottle home if the kura has released a pop-up exclusive, since allocations to Australia are limited and sell quickly through specialty importers.
- Book ahead for any collaborative dinner announcements, as Men-Eiji's paired events routinely sell out within days of release.
Plan your visit to either MEN-EIJI Hiragishi BASE or Duck Ramen EIJI through the location pages on this site, where you will find addresses, opening hours, and the latest menu details. If you are in Australia and want to catch the next Sydney or Melbourne event, subscribe to the brand's newsletter for early access to tickets and a chance to meet Jun Furukawa and Koji Tanaka when they are on the road.