My Fancy Ramen Recipe

Carbs are not the enemy.

Scott Muska
I THOUGHT THIS WAS WORTH SHARING

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Sometimes after taking your daily dick-punching from your job, the universe at large, both or any other entities who might line up to sock you a semi-righteous and solid one to the sack, you need a little something that brings you a bit of comfort.

Then you realize it’s going on 9 p.m. and you’ve consumed nothing but black coffee, antidepressants, anti-gout meds and sugar-free Blue Raspberry Lemonade Kool-Aid — that you’ve been running on anxiety-induced adrenaline and an unhealthy dose of crippling abject horror.

Sure, you can fire up Uber Eats and get something delivered to your door. If you wanna be a coward and take the easy way out. Getting a big greasy bag of food to satiate whatever craving you’re feeling is rewarding in its own way, but with that comes the inevitable guilt that you’ve dropped more dimes than you probably should have of the hard-earned bucks you’ve accrued toiling away in the salt mines, or whatever your personal equivalent to that happens to be, in order to get a couple Whoppers or whatever without leaving the comforts of your sanctum. (We all have our own salt mines, just like we all have our own circles of hell that we at least occasionally dwell in, staying longer than we should because we’ve convinced ourselves it’s really not that bad, that it’s just a “dry heat.” You know what I’m talking about, probably.)

And then when you add tip and delivery fee and whatever other salary-sapping additionals they tack on at checkout once you’re past the point of no return, it really takes a toll on the wallet, when you should theoretically be saving your shekels for when you inevitably become one of the far-too-many who have that “Open to Work” badge encircling their LinkedIn profile picture.

So I humbly offer an alternative that still enables you to go big while you stay home. Forget greasing palms with 20 percent just for bringing it up to your mini-mansion. Make something for yourself, and let the gratuity be a self-high-five. It’ll feel good.

I submit you whip up something that takes you back to the good ole’ days. The simpler times. Back before you knew what true hurt was and had never experienced a vivid, authentic and lasting existential crisis. Or at least not one you were even marginally cognizant of. When you felt like you were invincible even though you knew you were not — but what you knew deep down didn’t matter all that much because everything, for the most part, was just surface level and so much exciting stuff was out ahead of you. When you were unaware of the notion that dreams might actually be made specifically to be crushed.

You know what I’m talking about. The Salad Days. But back when you couldn’t really afford a good salad and were out of meal points until the ensuing semester. And you went with cheap-ass noodles instead.

Yeah, that’s right. Have yourself a ramen night, my friend.

Because carbs are not the enemy. You can use ’em for energy, and also to fully crash at some point. Two birds, one stone.

And you may as well live every day like it’s cheat day. Though if you wanna get real freaky and do something beneficial for your general health, pop a multivitamin while you take the three minutes it takes to prep this wild ride of a delightful dish. Balance is important. And of course, don’t forget to take that gummy that’s supposed to grow the hair back on your dwindling crown.

Okay, I’ll get into the actual recipe now.

First thing you want to do is open a packet of Maruchen or Top Ramen. Make it two if you’re feeling feisty. Ain’t nobody around to judge you, I’m assuming.

Actually, first thing would be to open your cabinet and pull out the bowl your ex-girlfriend left at your place and drop-kick it against a wall. Dispose of it appropriately. Then set up a weekend reminder on Alexa to alert you to dispose of everything else she left at your place and that you should burn in effigy anything flammable. Next, grab a bowl that doesn’t haunt you with reminders of the past, along with chopsticks. Or a fork. I don’t know your life. Do what you feel comfortable with, for goddamn once.

Okay, then you take the provided seasoning packet and either save it to dump on some microwaveable popcorn you’ll consume later that evening while watching Definitely, Maybe for the 348th time. Or snort it. Whatever works for you. This cooking blog isn’t about yucking anyone’s yum. I just think you can elevate it a little bit.

All you gotta do after that is just follow the recipe. (Extra points if you’ve got the Rapid Ramen Cooker that you can get for $9.99 on Amazon Dot Com, purveyor of books and other items. If you don’t have one, I highly recommend it, as it pays for itself pretty swiftly if you’re a real slut for ramen like this guy.) But instead of using water, use a broth or stock of some sort. It’s a real game-changer and the reason I recommend doing away with the seasoning packet.

While it’s in the microwave or on the stovetop, whip up an egg if you have the emotional, psychological and physical energy to do so. It not, no harm no foul.

Once it’s out and cooling down, season it up with whatever you’ve got on hand that seems like it’d be decent. I’ve even done a dollop of peanut butter from time to time, and you know what? It rips.

Add some tears for extra sodium, to taste, and enjoy!

I find it best to consume your culinary concoction maniacally slurping while hunched over the kitchen sink, but anywhere will do. At the coffee table. In bed. At an actual dining room table (if you have one) while gazing into the abyss. There’s no wrong way to eat ramen or live your life. You just have to do it up with your head held high and a “fuck ’em all” attitude.

Keep cooking, and keep going! I don’t believe in much. But I believe in you.

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Scott Muska
I THOUGHT THIS WAS WORTH SHARING

I write books (for fun), ads (for a living) and some other stuff (that I often put on the internet).