THE SLURPPED STORY
Some bowls follow you home. The ones with broth so deep you go quiet, noodles that fight back a little, steam that fogs your glasses. We're Ollie and Katie. We kept chasing that bowl across menus, across cities, and kept landing on the same annoying truth: the great bowls were always somewhere else, never on the doorstep.
So we built the kitchen that fixes it. The broth takes us all day. The noodles come in fresh. Everything goes in the box fresh, and 10 minutes after it hits your pan, it's dinner. At your table, on a weeknight.
That's the whole idea: restaurant ramen for the people, without the restaurant.
RAMEN. YOU GLORIOUS, TROUBLESOME BEAST OF A MISTRESS.
I started cooking at sixteen on a chef's scholarship and I've never really done anything else since. Classical French training, then old-school British kitchens the sort where nobody tells you it's good, they just tell you to do it again until it's right. That's eighteen years of my life now, and it's still how I think about everything I make.
When I was nineteen I was working a new opening in London and someone put Jiro Dreams of Sushi on in the kitchen one afternoon. A man who'd given his whole life to one thing and still wasn't happy with it. Then I heard David Chang talking about ramen really talking about it, the broth and the tare and the oil and the noodles and the timing, and how all of it has to land at the same moment or you've got nothing. That was me done for. I've been chasing it ever since.
Fifteen years later I'm still not finished with it and I don't think I ever will be. I'm not trying to make anyone else's perfect ramen either. I'm building the one that speaks for me. That's what's in your box my bowl, cooked the long way, because there isn't a short one.
TWO THINGS HAVE ALWAYS PULLED AT ME. SLURPPED IS WHERE THEY FINALLY COLLIDE.
I'm Katie. One side of me is creative. I'm an avid baker, and I've spent years behind a camera shooting, styling, quietly obsessing over how things look, taste, and land.
The other side is a bit more sensible. Seven years across the charity and business services world taught me how to take a good idea and actually build it. The unglamorous stuff that turns “wouldn't it be nice if” into something real.
The eye and the graft. The pretty and the practical. I'm here to make sure the world sees exactly that.
SAY IT LOUD.
In Japan the slurp is the compliment: air pulled over the noodles, broth and fat, respect you can actually hear. Over here it's a faux pas, so we picked our side and put it in the name.
Slurpped, past tense, double p, the outsider spelling. You've had the bowl, you made the noise, and you're not sorry.
Slurp loud. No apologies.
Choose your ramen