I have a confession to make. I never actually got to try Ramen Del Barrio before it relocated.
I know. I tried to go once, but they’d already sold out literally while I was on my way to Hana World Market. I’m not super-duper obsessed with ramen anyway (again, I know…), so I shrugged and was like, “Whatever, I’ll go someday.”
Of course, then the market shut down.
So, that “someday” finally arrived on a drizzly, 77-degree Sunday during ACL Weekend One. At 5:22pm, I stood in line behind two college kids still caked in mud, wearing Crocs and damp festival T-shirts. The crowd was weirdly quiet, as if everyone had sapped their energy at Zilker. After a 25-minute wait to order at the counter, a host greeted us with a booming “Irasshaimase!” and escorted us to a table marked with a Lotería card.
The new Ramen Del Barrio looks like a Tokyo izakaya crash-landed into a Mexico City cantina. Woven bamboo ceilings and amber paper lanterns share space with crimson metal chairs, Corona-branded tables, Cancún license plates, and signed Guy Fieri artwork. Japanese punk blares through the dining room, making for a festive departure from the food court where chef-owner Christopher Krinsky built his following.
Krinsky grew up in Mexico, where his parents ran a restaurant. He later worked at Kemuri Tatsu-Ya and Neighborhood Sushi before launching Ramen Garage out of his parents’ house in 2021, applying Japanese ramen techniques to Mexican comfort dishes like pozole and birria. In 2023, he opened a counter at Hana World Market, earning a James Beard Award semifinalist nomination for Best New Restaurant and Michelin Bib Gourmand recognition. After the market closed in late 2025, Krinsky took a short break before opening the 2,600-square-foot restaurant on Kramer in July.
The expanded space now serves nearly 600 bowls a day, and the full bar gives diners another reason to stay. The yuzu jamaica agua fresca with sake brought a cinnamon warmth that complemented richer dishes, while the yuzu jalapeño margarita balanced citrus with a gradual chile kick. Dishes arrive as they’re ready, though, and the timing isn’t always ideal. On my first visit, my cocktails lagged behind the food.
Service is efficient once you order, but don’t expect much attention after that. If there’s a line out the door, staff will politely shoo you out once you’ve finished eating. Like a traditional izakaya, it offers generous hospitality upfront, then turns tables quickly to make room for the next crowd.
I may have missed the original Ramen Del Barrio, but I can see why it earned a following.
The bluefin tuna tostada made a great first impression. Ruby-hued tuna covers a crisp corn tortilla, dressed with dried shrimp and morita chile aїoli, eel sauce, and salsa macha. Smoky sweetness gives way to a slow togarashi burn. It’s nearly impossible to eat neatly, but the tortilla holds its shape beneath the fish.
The Champiñón Yaki-Taco pairs meaty charred mushrooms with pipián and serrano-miso glaze, layering smoke and heat with the salty crunch of Tajín pepitas. I could heartily eat a dozen.
Since it finally wasn’t 90 degrees, I ordered the signature Carnitas Tonkotsu. Leaning over the bowl delivers a meaty steam facial. The creamy pork broth coats springy noodles, while tender braised pork, raw white onion, cilantro, and roasted jalapeño add contrasting textures. Crispy corn tortilla strips add a distinctly Mexican touch to the rich, creamy broth.
I returned Wednesday at 6pm to see how the restaurant handled a quieter service. Mercifully, there was no line, and we walked right in. Ordering was easy, the food arrived quickly, and I got to try two more drinks alongside dishes I’d missed the first round.
Closer to a Japanese citrus Old Fashioned than a heavy bourbon pour, the Oaxacan Old Fashioned is light and refreshing, with a delicate whisper of mezcal smoke. For something sweeter, the Kurosato Horchata brings cinnamon and chocolate notes that pair nicely with creamy Murai Family Nigori.
We started with the daily sashimi special: seven thick slices of brick-red tuna served with a bright, balanced ponzu sauce with a subtle hint of truffle oil, so slurpable I may have taken a few tiny sips.
The tripa taco takes a less delicate approach. The kitchen fries beef intestine until shatteringly crisp, then chars and glazes it with sweet piloncillo tare. Black beans, salsa roja, and chicharrón furikake add savory depth, while the heat builds until your lips tingle. It immediately gave me hiccups. Not a complaint.
When our server set down the Mole Tsukemen, which we ordered vegetarian, he asked if we’d ever tried dipping ramen. We had, but not quite like this. Thick, chewy whole-wheat noodles come with a house-made mole negro, dense with earthy spices. The noodles have enough nutty flavor to stand up to the sauce. I took the leftovers home and put the mole on tacos the next morning. Waste not.
The Chilaquiles-Men Verde was the night’s standout. This brothless bowl tosses springy noodles in piquant tomatillo salsa, then adds carnitas, cotija, avocado, crema, tortilla strips, and a jammy egg. The bright tomatillo salsa cuts through the richness of the carnitas and crema, keeping every bite lively. I’d happily order this over traditional brothy ramen, even in the dead of winter – whenever that may be.
The menu may be tricky for anyone who skips pork and beef. The mushroom taco and vegetarian dipping noodles offer meatless choices, while raw seafood starters and an octopus taco provide alternatives for pescatarians. But the seafood plates are mostly starters, leaving little for anyone looking for a full meal. A chicken option would add welcome flexibility.
Scaling a cult favorite food stall into a bustling restaurant can easily dilute the magic that made it famous. Krinsky avoids that trap. The larger space gives the chefs more room to work and diners more reasons to explore beyond ramen. I may have missed the original Ramen Del Barrio, but I can see why it earned a following. The tacos and raw seafood were my favorite parts of the meal, even though I kept tasting the noodles hours later. Long after dinner, I was still burping up a baffling combination of pork broth, Japanese tare, roasted chiles, mole, and raw onion. It was worth every bite.
This article appears in October 30 • 2026.
