Alright noshers, I’m back with another delicious recipe that none of
you asked for. Much like you, it’s simple, cheap, and delicious! I can’t
take credit for this masterpiece, but I do make it quite often. It comes
from Chef Roy Choi. If you’ve ever seen the movie or the series “Chef”,
you’ll recognize him. He’s the brains behind the operation with loads of
unique talent.
This ridiculously easy dish starts out with a single pack of ramen
noodles with that little MSG packed foil pouch of magic soup dust. Don’t lose it. It’s very important.
Grab yourself a chicken egg (preferably, unfertilized) and 2 slices of American cheese. Trust me! Don’t go gettin’ all fancy and trying to use a better cheese. Nothing melts like American singles. Fight me.

You will also need toasted sesame seeds. I used to toast my own until I found out you can buy them already toasted! I know, right?! No need to complicate things.
The last two things you’ll need are a pat of butter and some
sliced scallions, green end only. That’s green onions for you culinary
deficient folks.
Now, this isn’t fancy ramen like the kind you get at some bougie place
in downtown Ann Arbor, that you waaaay overpaid for. This is
sustenance. This is life. This feeds your soul.
You’re gonna start off by boiling 2 cups of H2O and cooking the noods
according to the package. I believe it’s 3 minutes. Let’s just go with
that. Here’s a pro tip: Break up the noodles while they’re still in the
pack. Makes life easier. And who doesn’t want easier, amirite?!
Dump that freeze-dried pack of pasta (that looks like Justin Timberlake’s hair circa 1995) into the pan and add that concentrated powder pack of
flavor and stir to combine. The instructions say to do it at the end. But
they’re wrong and I’m right.
When there’s 30 seconds or so left on the timer you forgot to set, toss
in that butta and crack that egg right into the water. Fold some of the
noodles over the egg and let it poach. Now turn off the burner. I like to
break the yolk almost immediately and stir it right into the soup, or you
can leave it whole and let it continue to cook. This is your slop to eat,
so you do you, boo!

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations. It’s time to transfer this
scorching hot goodness to a bowl. I prefer a bowl over a plate, because
it’s a bowl and bowls are good for things like soup. Plates are not. I
also find it helpful if you don’t burn yourself during this process.
Once you have it in your vessel of choice, slap those two pieces of American
processed plastic that we talked about earlier, right on top. I know this
goes against everything you’ve ever learned about cooking soup, especially ramen, but you must trust me. Have I ever let you down before? If you’re my parents, then the answer would be yes, but that’s a topic that only my therapist is privy to.
As the “cheese” begins to melt, you will start to understand the
beauty of this uncomplicated dish. Sprinkle the top with those toasted
sesame seeds and the green onion. I like to add a little (a lot) sriracha
to mine or if I’m really hating myself, I’ll add a few dashes of Bravado’s
A.K.A Miso Ghost-Reaper sauce. This stuff is seriously hot and will
give you something to cry about other than your poor life choices.
It’s time to stir up this crazy concoction and get to slurping! I prefer to
use one of those deep spoons you find at Asian restaurants. You can
get them online for souper cheap. Chop sticks are another option, but
I’m not coordinated enough for that noise.
This dish represents comfort. If food could wrap you up and give you a
big hug, this is what would do it. If you suffer from depression, you will
still suffer depression after eating it. It’s food, not bourbon. So, build
a blanket pillow fort, put on your most comfortable clothes, (as if you
weren’t already in them), que up The Watcher on Netflix and remember
that a happy belly is a happy mind.
Bone Apple Teeth!
The Depressed Chef
