So on the 24th June 2022 Bia Rebel Ramen closed. It was curtains on a six year journey I can only describe as one of the hardest experiences I ever undertook. I really experienced all of the human emotions in their rawest form: despair, joy, loss, extreme stress and anxiety, I was laid bare. And as a result, I became a more rounded human being. I stopped being a manager of people and became a leader. I got a better understanding of money and how money works, I learned about people at an emotional level, and as a result developed a greater empathy. But most of all I learned the importance of being authentic and faithful to your core values.
In 2016 real ramen didn’t exist in Ireland, and to be honest I didn’t even know what it was. But one day I saw a video on YouTube, in Japanese, of a guy reviewing ramen, and he spoke with such awe — for a dish that to me just looked like a simple bowl of noodle soup. It made me want to investigate further, for some reason his words resonated with me. He talked about the aroma, the toppings and the eating experience. But the phrase that really stuck with me was “this is a bowl that touches the soul.” And that’s what I wanted as a cook – to make food that was more than the sum of its parts. I had worked in many Michelin restaurants, in many roles, including head chef; and I had been part of extraordinary teams that had gained the elusive star — like the Greenhouse under Gary Rhodes where we cooked British food – not French. Or, with Kevin Thornton in Dublin cooking modern Irish food to a level that the restaurant achieved two stars, the first time an Irish chef had done so. But as formative as all those experiences were, eventually the Michelin world starts to feel quite dull as a cook, because it becomes all technique and no passion. And no, Gordon Ramsey is not passionate, he was just a shouty man and whilst working for him I certainly didn’t feel passion for the food we were making.
But here, in a random video about a bowl of soup, was real passion! Not only for the cook but also for the diner. And it was in that moment that I decided to bin everything I had done up to that point and focus exclusively on ramen. I wanted to do it in a way that reframed what eating out in Ireland meant. I didn’t accept that you had to pay through the nose to get good food, I rejected the notion of what a restaurant was supposed to be: table cloths, wait staff, over priced cocktails and all the other BS. I wanted to create a space that was Irish, no mango or red lanterns like so many pseudo-Asian joints here pretending to be a thing they are clearly not, and do it using the highest quality produce direct from famers who share the same values as us. And you know what, we did it. We started with no money to speak of, selling from a market stall and within 12 months we were in a brick and mortar site on the Ormeau Road in Belfast building a ramen shop.
The beginning was rough, as very few people got what we were doing. The experience was outside their comfort zone but we stayed true to our values and in time the numbers grew and we went from no sit in to four seat then moving the shop around we had sixteen seats and finally we had thirty-two across two floors. We were on our way, our plan was working and we were about to open our second site when Covid hit. Like many small businesses we chopped and changed, moved things around to adhere to government safety advice and tried to survive. It looked like we had as the restrictions lifted, financially we were in good place, emotionally we OK and we still had our core staff, and most importantly we had our customers who continued to support us through the two years of uncertainty. So all was well on the surface.
Rolling into 2022 things were starting to tighten as the numbers on my daily spreadsheets started to move in a negative direction. In January food costs had started to rise and as a result we had to start to amend recipes, look at suppliers and generally try to reduce internal costs to protect margin and keep the business in profit. The government talking heads were saying this is transitory and inflation would be kept in control, but to me this felt like telling the D-Day landing troops in June 1944 that we will be back home for Christmas. It was clearly a lie.
As we got further into 2022, looking at the market from a macro level it was clear that the world was in a meltdown and many businesses would go to go to the wall if they did not act and act quickly. I looked at what we would have to do to survive. ‘Put your prices up’ was the advice from non business owners who clearly don’t understand what business owners know, customers can only pay what they can afford, or what they feel your product is worth. I felt that we couldn’t push our prices higher – in fairness, I wouldn’t pay £20 for a bowl of ramen and I’m the owner of a ramen business. So what other solutions were available?
Shrinkflation - reduce the size of portions to maintain margin. If you look around and most of you will see that what you got for £10 a year ago and what you get now is very different. Last year it was two dollops of crab and this year it’s one, for the same price. To be honest, I feel this is the same as stealing or at the very least lying to the customer.
Increase price - as said people vote with their hard earned money so once your products go outside of their price range you are dead anyway.
Reduce product quality - don’t change the menu or pricing but simply use inferior products and hope the customer doesn’t notice it. My experience the customer always notices, it a straight up lie and it only delays the death of the business.
Change the concept entirely - stop making ramen and open a fried-something joint, we have the product with our Karaage chicken which is off the hook delicious, but on the other hand I don’t want to work in a KFC.
Reduce staff - this option works, but you also work. In fact you do all the work so for the next 12-18 months you open and close everyday and make every item, standing alone against the financial tsunami that’s going to wash over all of us. Doesn’t sound like a good idea, does it?
Anyone of these or a combination of these might save your business but it’s not guaranteed, the one thing all of them have in common is that I, as a business owner with strong values around food, will have to compromise those values. And if I do come out the other end I would have to rebuild everything I worked so hard to achieve. That’s a shitty deal no matter how it’s served up.
Prices are rising, the world appears to be melting down, and I took the decision to jump off while the ride was still going. Before the music stopped altogether. I was in the enviable position to be able to close our doors and walk away, going out on a high note. So this is the course of action I chose in the end. From the outset, it’s how we did things. The food we served, how the interior was presented, the music we played, it was always only the things we thought had real value, rightly or wrongly. We never yielded or bent to external pressure or guide books or fashion. I can’t say for certain we have had the same choice in six months.
One last word and as I write this I feel overwhelming emotion: the final week was absolutely amazing, almost every customer I have interacted with one the years came to say farewell. It was like being at your own wake – everyone of those final five days the shop was never busier. It was truly a humbling and fulfilling experience. I think it demonstrated how important it is to stand by your principles. People will thank you for it in the long run. To all my peers in the food industry I stand with you in these uncertain times, to the foodie friends I have made through Bia Rebel I hope you continue to search out and support the true flavour creators. People like Dearbhla Reynolds of The Cultured Club, Davide Tani of Velo Cheese and our old pork suppliers Kenny and Jennifer Gracey of Forthill Farm. It would be easy to be bitter but we created a thing that touched many people, changed people’s minds, and most of all made friends. And who could be bitter at that?