The Daily Telegraph’s food critic visits Mensho, the Michelin recommended ramen venue in Sydney. And it didn’t go to plan.

Mensho is tucked in a CBD laneway that’s been done up to look like something out of Hong Kong - and The Mouth went there with an empty belly and high expectations.

We are not sure exactly when the bloom went off the Michelin ratings rose for us.

It might have been that time we paid around a grand to eat at a two-star joint in Milan that stank like pub toilet urinal cake after the Grand Final.

So, naturally, when word came that a Michelin recommended ramen chain had opened in Sydney, we had to check it out.

Which we did, popping in at opening time (11:30am!) on a recent rainy weekday, because as regular readers know, the Mouth doesn’t do queues.

Tucked down a little CBD laneway that’s been done up to look like something out of Hong Kong, the Mensho aesthetic is what might be called “Anywhere Asian”. It could be in Sydney, San Francisco, or Haneda Airport.

We were seated at Mensho’s long bar; introverts would love this place because absolutely everything is conducted via QR code (though you still have the option to leave a tip).

Michelin-recommended ramen restaurant Mensho, where at the bar everything is conducted via QR code. Picture: Supplied

And around 40 ApplePay dollars later, we were tucking in to their “signature toripaitan”, a big old bowl of noodles (“Michelin recognised,” the menu reminds us) with an almost foamy broth (did they it with a stick blender?) and three or four kinds of meat including duck, chicken, and pork, plus an extra egg for good measure. Allegedly there was “truffle paste” but we doubt any truffles were harmed in the process.

There was also a dish of peppery chilli sauce, which we’re glad we paid extra for, because frankly this needed the flavour boost.

It was all sort of interesting, but hardly worth the money. A gimmick for the Instagrammers and not much more.

The signature toripaitan. Picture: Supplied

With a side of chilli. Picture: Supplied

Like a disappointing pinot noir that promises all sorts of stewed fruits and pepper on the nose only to taste like strawberry juice, there just wasn’t a lot of there there. In short, it was insipid.

There are easily a dozen ramen places around town – including even the very corporate Westfield Ippudo – serving more inspiring soups for a fraction of the price.

Despite all this, Mensho has developed a cult following of sorts.

Of course, so did Jim Jones.

But ramen is, properly understood, not Michelin cuisine. The dish originated in the early 20th century in the backstreets of Yokohama’s Chinatown.

Like a gourmet hot dog, you can chuck all sorts of fancy pants toppings on it, but the more you do, the more you get away from the true nature of the thing.

— The Mouth is an undercover critic and bon vivant who pays his own way around Sydney and beyond.