jakorte's blog

Fact or fiction? Ramen Noodles are much harder to eat sober.

Fact. I think. Umm… from what I can recall. I discovered Ramen Noodles after college. Right after I got my first low paying, but highly glamorous job in New York City. I rediscovered them a few years ago, when my grandmother-in-law developed digestive problems. All she would eat was Ramen Noodles. Anyway, the smell of micro-waved rehydrated noodles led me on a nice trip down memory lane, remembering my much poorer days. Plus, at the time, they suited our budget rather nicely.

I was going through the cookbook cabinet, aka Jeff’s leisure library, and discovered a little gem of a treasure called 101 Things To Do With Ramen Noodles. With a book like that in my possession, I felt compelled to buy a case of the pre-packaged little cuties in a variety of intriguing flavors such as, Chili Lime Shrimp, Chinese Mushroom, and Creamy Chicken. Who knew they were such a gourmet item?

I haven’t made anything from the cook book, yet. Ok. I haven’t actually read the cook book, yet. But I did throw a couple of those convenient bundles into my desk drawer at work. Just in case I ever forgot to bring my lunch one day. (Reference: NOLA Flexibility)

I didn’t forget my lunch today. I was, however, completely unsatisfied with the salad I prepared and reluctantly ate. So, around 2:00 pm, I decided to cook up some happy noodles. I ceremoniously cracked the brick of noodles into smaller chunks. I don’t think it really makes them cook any faster, but it is an effective aggression reliever. I emptied half of the flavor packet into my bowl as well. I never use the whole packet…watching my sodium, right?

Apparently, Ramen Noodles are a multi-cultural phenomenon, as well as being quite the conversation piece. Everybody has an opinion on them. Seriously, in the 20 feet from my office door to the kitchen microwave, I encountered three people who not only recognized the naked ingredients in my bowl, but also had some smart thing to say.

First comment: “Oh, Ramen Noodles! You’d get along with my daughter!�
My reply: “Oh? She’s broke, too?�

Second comment: “Oh, Ramen Noodles! Choice of college students everywhere.�
My reply: “Yeah, and poor University employees, too.�

Third comment: “Oh, Ramen Noodles! Short on cash this month?�
My reply: “Nope! These are gourmet dried noodles transported all the way from Irvine, California with a delicate balance of spices and herbs specifically chosen for their medicinal and digestive values, and designed to provide complete comfort and satisfaction while also lowering blood pressure and making you smarter.� (Maybe I should have lowered my aggression ratio by breaking more noodles.)

Me and my tasty treat finally made it back to the office, where I vainly attempted to eat/twirl/slurp/drink the concoction without splattering little drops of soupy stuff all over the payroll reports. I was very unsuccessful. I ended up with little splats of pale brown-colored artificial goodness all over my desk! I didn’t remember having that much of a problem eating them in my much younger and slightly wilder days.

Which is, finally, how I arrived at the title conclusion:
Ramen Noodles are harder to eat sober.

jak