If there’s chicken soup for sick days, Ramen Akaneko is the anime version of that. It comforts like a warm blanket, asking nothing of the viewer, except maybe occasional sympathy and understanding. There’s otherwise no critical thinking required, no sprawling storylines to detangle, no long list of characters to remember. It simply exists, as whimsical and as improbable as a ramen shop run by cats without opposable thumbs. And of course a tiger— a big, sweet, zoo-raised tiger whose day job now consists of making noodles, nervously dealing with rowdy customers, and taking midday naps with the rest of her coworkers.

Adapted from a manga that got its start on Shueisha‘s Shonen Jump+ digital platform, Ramen Akaneko follows the day-to-day operations of five cats (four housecats, one tiger) who run a ramen shop for customers who happen to love cats, and who can tolerate the occasional tuft of fur in their soup. They talk, of course, and are capable of all the tasks required to run a successful restaurant. Naturally, they also have a strict No Photos policy— they’re not interested in becoming a circus attraction. They’re just there to be hospitable and throw down a piping hot bowl of artisanal noods. Things change in a big way when, in the first episode, they decide to hire a human employee. This doesn’t go over well with every cat initially— hostess cat Hana is immediately dubious and rude, but she has a mistrust of humans simmering underneath her bubbly customer-facing persona. Maybe it doesn’t help that it’s a nepo hire. Tamako is the niece of the shop’s former owner, though she confesses right away that she’s more of a dog person. Apparently, this works in her favor, as the head chef is quick to say that cat people are a bit… intense, given the circumstances of the restaurant.

While Tamako’s job duties eventually include helping tiger Krishna make noodles and keep up with the dishes, her primary job is to brush the cats. Each takes their turn in the break room with their favorite brush, occasionally falling asleep as Tamako gets more proficient at her duties. It’s apparently not just for comfort— the brushing helps keep the fur situation under control, and it’s critical during Krishna’s shedding periods, when she transforms into an irate beast, gritting her teeth and exploding with the discomfort of excess fur. If anyone has ever owned or pet a husky, imagine that, except with a cat the size of a fridge.

The upside to all the brushing is that it’s equally as soothing for the viewer as it is for the cats. The sound design is predictably filled with the methodical, rhythmic scraping sounds of fur being brushed. It would almost qualify as ASMR if the segments were longer, but even at their current length, it has a therapeutic quality. Scrape… scrape… scrape… scrape… scrape… It doesn’t exactly make for riveting television, but chances are, you aren’t watching Ramen Akeneko for the thrills. To be quite honest, you’re probably not watching it for the laughs either—it’s not particularly funny, even though occasional jokes are peppered in. Whatever conflicts arise are very low stakes and come in the form of small episodic troubles, like the arrogant influencer who barges in to livestream the cats; or the small potatoes worry that one of the cats will quit his job for e-sports. There are some more tender moments in the last few episodes when viewers finally learn about the cats’ backstories, including their original names.

From a viewing perspective, it doesn’t fully make sense to watch Ramen Akaneko one episode at a time, unless you want the lunch hour equivalent of staring at a bird feeder. It’s a show made for bingeing when you’re sad, when you need background sound to build a Lego set, or when you’re laid up for 18 hours of fevers and body aches after your latest COVID booster, an example that is definitely just a random example and not something that happened to me recently on a Sunday while I was wrapped in a blanket and eating ibuprofen like it was candy.

Visually, the cuteness of the show is a bit subjective. The cats themselves definitely have very cute personalities, although their bottom-heavy designs are an interesting choice for anyone who has ever seen a cat. The character modeling for Tamako is an odd choice as well, with her nose bridge jarringly on display like a child’s doodle. Maybe this is where I confess that I too, am also more of a dog person. Of the housecats, Chef Bunzo is my favorite, and the no-nonsense way he talks about their usage of Qin Cai instead of garlic chives had me firmly in his corner as a feline ramen savant. The real highlight is Krishna, whom I would run through a burning fire to save. She’s cute and sweet, and the running bit about her handmade noodles finally being openly marketed as tiger paw-made made me realize I would empty my bank account at this ramen shop if it was real.

All of this is to say that yes, you should absolutely watch Ramen Akaneko, but you must save it for a very specific kind of day. It’s more of a vibe than a TV show. If you approach it with all the intention of needing a hug for your soul, you will greatly enjoy it. And if you start feeling wistful that your cat can’t talk to you? Don’t. Apparently, happy cats don’t talk.