About the counter
A small noodle bar on Main Street, run by Mika Arai and a kitchen of five.
Short menu, long broth
Koji opened in 2019 in a former print shop on Main Street. The idea was narrow on purpose: two kinds of noodle, a handful of broths, and the same care every single day.
The name comes from koji, the mould that turns rice and soy into miso, soy sauce and sake. Most of the depth in our bowls started with it, so it felt right on the sign.
There are 28 seats: one long counter where you can watch the noodles go into the baskets, and four small tables by the window. No reservations, no delivery. We'd rather cook for the people in the room.
The overnight routine
How a night goes
Bones in
After the last bowl goes out, pork bones are blanched, scrubbed and set on a hard boil in the big pot.
Skim and top up
The night cook skims the fat, tops up the water and breaks down the bones so the broth turns milky.
The vegan pot
Kombu goes into cold water to steep, then shiitake. This is the base for the daily vegan bowl and the kitsune udon.
Strain and taste
Everything is strained, the tares are made up and Mika tastes each pot. Too thin or too salty and it doesn't go out.
Doors open
First names go on the waitlist. The broth that started last night is in your bowl.
Mika Arai, owner and cook
Mika cooked in ramen shops in Osaka and in kitchens around Vancouver before opening Koji. She still works the counter most lunches and tastes every broth before the doors open.
Ask her about the shoyu tare and you'll get ten happy minutes on soy sauce. If you have feedback on a bowl, tell whoever is at the counter, or email hello@kojinoodle.example; it reaches her.