Five-Spice Lamb & Plum Ramen
Lamb is the red meat that refuses to play it safe, that funky, gamey flavor that either makes you a believer or sends you running back to boring chicken. When you coat it in Chinese five-spice powder, that mysterious blend that tastes like licorice and warmth and complexity all at once, the lamb becomes even more assertive, more interesting, more itself. The plum sauce brings this sweet-tart counterpoint that somehow tames all that intensity without erasing it, like a mediator who actually knows what they are doing. This is fusion cooking that makes sense instead of just throwing random ingredients together and hoping for the best, where the Chinese aromatics and Japanese noodles create something that feels inevitable rather than forced. It is the kind of bowl that makes you slow down and pay attention, that demands you notice every layer of flavor happening at once.
Star anise blooms dark—lamb meets fruit's purple embrace—five notes sing at once.
Let Me Tell You...
I learned about five-spice powder from this elderly Chinese woman who ran a spice shop in Chinatown, where everything came in unmarked bags and you had to trust her recommendations because nothing was labeled in English.
She scooped out this reddish-brown powder that smelled like a Christmas tree collided with a pastry shop, told me it would change how I thought about meat.
I took it home skeptical, convinced that star anise belonged in desserts, not savory food, but I trusted her enough to try it.
When I rubbed it on lamb shoulder and seared it until the spices formed this dark, aromatic crust, the whole apartment smelled like some kind of exotic temple, and I understood that I had been thinking about spices all wrong.
The plum component happened by accident when I was at an Asian grocery store looking for plum wine and saw jars of Chinese plum sauce sitting on the shelf next to the checkout.
I grabbed one on impulse, thinking it might work with duck or pork, but when I got home and opened it, that sweet-sour-umami combination made me think immediately of lamb.
Plums and lamb have this natural affinity that Western cooking somehow missed, that balance of fruit sweetness cutting through gamey richness in a way that feels sophisticated instead of weird. I started reducing the plum sauce with stock and soy sauce, creating this glossy glaze that coated the lamb like lacquer.
Building the broth around five-spice meant respecting its complexity instead of drowning it out with too many competing flavors.
I kept it simple with good stock, ginger, garlic, and just enough soy sauce to add depth without overwhelming the aromatic spices.
The star anise floating in the broth is not just for looks, it keeps infusing flavor as you eat, making each spoonful slightly different from the last. When you add the plum-glazed lamb to that fragrant broth over chewy ramen noodles, you get this interplay of sweet and savory, aromatic and rich, that makes every bite feel like a discovery.
This bowl has become my answer to people who think fusion food is always a gimmick, always some chef trying too hard to be clever.
Sometimes ingredients from different cuisines just work together because flavors have their own logic that transcends borders and tradition.
Every time I make this, I think about that spice shop and the woman who understood that the best teachers just hand you something and tell you to trust the process, to let the ingredients speak for themselves without overthinking it.
Ingredients
- 8 ounces dried ramen noodles (2 bricks, seasoning packets discarded)
- 1 pound boneless lamb shoulder or leg, trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes
- 2 tablespoons Chinese five-spice powder
- 3 tablespoons neutral oil (canola or vegetable), divided
- 1/2 cup Chinese plum sauce
- 4 cups beef or lamb stock (or rich vegetable stock)
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons rice wine or dry sherry
- 1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
- 2 whole star anise
- 1 cinnamon stick
- 2 fresh plums, pitted and cut into wedges (or use canned if out of season)
- 3 scallions, thinly sliced (whites and greens separated)
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
- 1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds
- Red chili threads or sliced fresh chili, for garnish
- Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
Preparation
- Bring a large pot of water to a boil for the noodles.
- Pat the lamb cubes dry with paper towels. In a medium bowl, toss the lamb with five-spice powder, salt, and black pepper until evenly coated.
- Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Working in batches to avoid overcrowding, sear the lamb cubes for 2-3 minutes per side until deeply browned and aromatic. Remove and set aside.
- In the same skillet, add the plum sauce and 2 tablespoons of water. Bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits. Return the lamb to the skillet and toss to coat in the plum glaze. Remove from heat and keep warm.
- In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, ginger, and scallion whites. Cook for 1-2 minutes until fragrant.
- Add the stock, soy sauce, rice wine, hoisin sauce, brown sugar, star anise, and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10-12 minutes to let the flavors meld.
- Meanwhile, cook the ramen noodles according to package directions (usually 3-4 minutes). Drain, rinse briefly, and set aside.
- Remove the star anise and cinnamon stick from the broth (or leave them in for presentation). Taste and adjust seasoning with more soy sauce or salt if needed.
- Divide the cooked noodles among serving bowls. Ladle the hot five-spice broth over the noodles.
- Top each bowl with plum-glazed lamb pieces, fresh plum wedges, scallion greens, cilantro, sesame seeds, and chili threads.
- Serve immediately while hot, with any optional toppings on the side. The star anise can be left in the bowl for visual appeal but should not be eaten.