Ramen: Nongshim shin black, green beans, mushrooms, miso

Beans boil with the ramen. So they cook only a few minutes.

Sliced mushrooms added and it doesn't matter how long they cook if at all.

Miso paste added to the water in the bowl with the flavor packets. It's not actually cooked.

Green onions added on top.

The dehydrated vegetables they give you with these ramen packets are pathetic. Honestly, why even bother? 

This ramen is the black version that's supposed to be hot. I think. On Amazon they're presently $23.00 for ten packages. Of all the ramen so far this is probably the best. If not the best then right up there with the best of them. 

On Amazon the red version is original. It's half the cost of the newer hotter black package verson. I think. I didn't try this red version but reviews on Amazon are pretty good. Reviewers say the extra cost for the black version isn't worth it. Not when you can add a few drops of chile sauce for the same degree of increased heat. But I don't really know about that.

On Amazon presently $17.34 for 20 packages. That's less than half the cost of the black version, while the black version is not twice the goodness. That's what reviewer say. It makes me wish I known this before. I'd have bought this red version to compare them. 

That artistic symbol: 辛  means "spicy." 

It's not that spicy. Maybe it is compared to hospital food. But it's definitely not hot.

As it is, I still have a million packages so I'm disinclined to buy this red version and try them. Right now. But I will later. 

For I love them so.

I have not tired of these ramen packages. They make beautiful beginnings to nearly anything. And they do give you ideas. Their essence is easily duplicated. 

That is, you can buy these noodles separately in various forms, buy soup bases separately also in various forms. And you can buy the vegetables separately in various forms including dehydrated, and use a lot more of it than you get in these ridiculous tiny packages.

And you can keep various flavorings in various forms; chile sauce, chile powders, fresh chiles, for example. Soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, tamarind sauce, A-1, barbecue, various vinegars, sugar, honey, catsup, mustard, fish sauce, anchovy, fortified wines, for example. There are very many more.

The contents of these packages can be duplicated by various elements kept in the pantry and used for other things. These instant ramen packages show the way. They can actually teach young people to cook. It gets people thinking, man, if this just had some shrimp in it, or chicken, or pork or whatever. Even Napa cabbage would really turn something out. 

This is the first time I added miso paste. 

Originally I wanted to add aged soy sauce to test it. But I forgot. The flavor-packages and the additions, the miso, have so much flavor the soy sauce wasn't missed.

I set up my brother with this idea in mind.

I had already given his wife a bottle of the 3-year aged soy sauce. Because it comes packaged uniquely as Japanese do and a way that women really like.

But I had no idea if their family actually uses soy sauce. 

Or if they could appreciate the difference in reduced harshness.

My brother grew up in Japan as I did. But I have no idea if he caught on to soy sauce. His wife is Ukrainian. They're both very high on the health food scale. If there were such a scale. They're both interested in consuming only real food. His wife is extremely critical of American mass produced food and American industrial farming. They both are.

So they're both difficult cases.

He called back and told me they both love the 3-year aged soy sauce and they use it all the time.

Now, that surprised me. I honestly thought the gift was wasted effort.

So I sent him a bottle of the 4-year aged soy sauce that is even more mild. 

They love that too. 

They held a contest with their two boys. 

The 4-year soy sauce won their home-contest. Although it is not packaged uniquely as Japanese do.

This inspired me to set them up with South River miso. 

I hesitated with this because it is rather expensive and if the recipient doesn't appreciate the difference from regular miso that you can buy anywhere then that difference in quality will be wasted. 

The miso isn't so expensive but shipping added to that increases the cost dramatically. From forty-four to seventy dollars for four jars. 

It's worth it. 

If the difference in quality can be appreciated.

Plus it lasts a very long time in the refrigerator. Mine is over a year old.

Plus kombu seaweed and dried bonito tuna flakes for dashi, soup base, for nearly anything including miso soup.

You can make miso soup with miso paste and water, but it's a 10X better with dashi. That is, tea made from kombu and bonito flakes.

So far, South River miso and the two elements for basic dashi. This is a very good start.

Incidentally on this site, I compared three different ways to make bouillabaisse. Raw fish heads, clam juice and kombu/bonito dashi. Each with saffron. The Japanese version won hands down. You must admit, the Japanese have their seafood act down. Like no other culture that I know of. (While the best bouillabaisse that I've ever had was in a French restaurant, so my own contest might have been faulted. Enter "bouillabaisse" in the Blogger search box up there top left ↖︎if you care to see them.) 

Then the seven magical Asian flavor ingredients. All ordered from Amazon. Except for sake.

That one is tricky. He is ex-alcoholic type and fiercely against anything alcohol. 

Touchy subject.

But if he wants he can get sake anywhere or substitute that with any fortified wine. But I doubt that he'll want to. That one is actually quite easy to translate into western terms. In some ways better than sake. And after all, you use only one tablespoon at a time and it does make all the difference in the world. 

Or leave it out. 

You don't have to use all seven magical Asian ingredients each time, just a few at time are literally transformative. The thing is, each one is rather gross on its own. But in combination with other things, and with food, they alter the profiles dramatically. So even little changes make huge differences in outcome.

In things like Ramen. Things like plain vegetables. Napa cabbage especially. It's quite remarkable what these flavor enhancements do. Used sparingly and in balance across the whole range of cooking activity. 

So then:

1: South River miso (upscale authentic version of common product)

2: kombu seaweed and bonito flakes (used everywhere in lots of things including miso soup)

3: 7 magical Asian flavor ingredients. (used in combinations for tons of things)

     1) fish sauce

     2) mirin (wine based, I'm worried about this one)

     3) rice vinegar 

     4) sugar (not sent)

     5) sake ( not sent)

     6) toasted sesame seed oil

     7) soy sauce

Obvious omissions are tamarind sauce, chiles, wasabi, curries, and ginger. 

Not that many people would think of long pure white daikon radish but I'm seeing it stacked all over the place. It's not a new trend. That means people out there are hip to the deal. 

If I were to send them anything else it would be excellent short-grained rice. The type you just don't see in the stores. But that's white rice, and these types of food-elitists have a thing against white rice. It's inculcated in their highfalutin anti-fast-sugar-carb indoctrination. 

They are both antifastsugarcarbites.

I asked him if they ever make sushi at home and he said, "no" but he's thinking about it. And that would take high quality short-grain white rice. And sushi is the doorway drug to fast sugar carb white rice.

So then, no high quality short-grain white rice for you! 

Presently.

Green beans, carrot, miso, aged soy sauce

Carrot in a little water microwaved for 2.5 minutes

Green beans and carrot microwaved for 3 minutes.

Oh n-o-o-o, 5.5 whole minutes! How can we stand the wait? 

Pizza, bacon, bell and jalapeño peppers

Bacon. Lots of bacon. More bacon than you can shake a stick at. A pig-stick.

Old Santa Fe, Denver

Combination #6. 

I think.

Maybe #5.

Whatever. It's good. 

I think I'm going to stop getting this sort of thing. 

Not because it's not good but because it doesn't photograph very well. 

"What will you have, Sir?"

     "Something that photographs well." 

"Oh. I can help you with that. You'll definitely want to get a tequila sunrise and best you order a la carte (French in a Mexican restaurant) so that the rice and beans don't blend into all the other various sauces with sludge-like colors and goopy consistencies." 

     "Ew."

"I know, right? But, hey, it is what it is. You'll want red chile sauces with drizzled white creama topping and colorful garnishes to stick out as layers, not all flooded with thick liquid substance sprinkled with shredded cheese that looks the same going out as it does going in if you know what I mean." 

     "No. I don't. What do you mean?"

"Nevermind. I'll help you order something photogenic." 

As if. 

They don't feel comfortable speaking English.

Each time I go in I am filled with a certain sadness.

I sense that I'm seeing a restaurant in the process of failing for lack of customers. While far less authentic restaurants nearby thrive. Long lines all the time. 

Much more expensive restaurants doing just fine, all within a block of this place. 

There is no real justice in the restaurant business. 

Their Yelp reviews are mixed. I've always had excellent meals and very good service. 

Here is my experience.

I walk up to the front door and it opens for me. A woman came forward and stood there holding it open as I pass by her.

But that was partially because nobody else was there. 

One other customer came in while I was there.

Another customer in another room left while I was there.

So, three of us.

When I left, the same woman stopped what she was doing and rushed forward to open the door again. She remarked on the weather. And that's more conversation than we had the whole rest of the time. 

This door opening thing is something that happens all the time. Every day. I have only to step out. 

Not every door, or course, but every day.

In fact, leaving my apartment building a woman held open the door for me. But that was because we met at the door from opposite directions at the same time.

I see it as the spark of divinity that abides inside everyone that causes them to respond to my spark. It's them for me and spark to spark. It's two sparks interacting though their vehicle, their bodies. From my point of view it is evidence of God on earth. Every day. 

It's touching. 

It's nice. 

I must now pray.

Thank you, God, for making yourself evident. Amen. 

Jamie Oliver's crown cheese sandwich with bacon and egg

Mise en place if you're French. But we're not French so, "stuff's all ready." 

The bacon bits are cooked in the same pan as the egg that follows. 

Then the bread is toasted in the same pan.

Then the cheese is melted and toasted in the same pan

Then the sandwich is assembled and the inside cheese melts at the same time that the second layer of outside cheese is toasting. 

So then, three layers of cheese. Four, actually, two layers outside and toasted to a crunch and either one or two layers melted inside. 

Get it? Got it. Good.

Now the bacon bits are held tightly and won't fall all over the place. And since they are bits they won't be a pain in the teeth to bite through and tear apart the sandwich as you eat it, or pull out as you go and get eaten separately.

Both sides of the bread are lightly toasted in the leftover bacon grease and then the other side toasted in butter.

This is a greasy sandwich. The cheese releases oil too. You need a paper towel and a napkin to eat it.

1/4 the cheese is melted straight into the non-stick pan.

Toasted bread placed on the cheese as the cheese toasts.

Second layer of cheese placed in the pan to melt and to toast.

Cheese sprinkled on the top of the bread.

The egg with bacon placed on top of the cheese.

The last of the cheese placed on top of the egg and bacon.

So the inside goes, cheese, egg and bacon, more cheese.

The original layer is placed on top. 

Now the inside cheese is melting while the bottom layer of cheese toasts.

When the cheese is loosened and a spatula is used to lift up the sandwich then the cheese around the edges droop. When you hold it there for a few seconds then the cheese will harden in that shape.

Jamie Oliver, being British, is inclined to view this shape as a crown. How ridiculous. The bread isn't circular and it doesn't hold any jewels. Americans tend to think of this shape as droopy cheese. And we're disinclined to hold it to create that shape, rather, our inclination is to tidily push it all into a neat little package. 

He's a nice guy. He can't help it that he's British. 

(But speech-therapy could repair the thick tongue.)

Ask me how I know.

*squeaky voice* How do you know?

I know because I had speech-therapy in the fifth grade.

It went down like this.

In kindergarden Mum gave me pussy willows to give to my teacher.

So I did.

"Here. Have thome puthy willowth."

     "Ha ha aha. Say that again."

"I thaid, here, have thome puthy willowth.

     "Ha ha ha. Say that again." 

"What'th your problem?"

     "Just say it again."

"Okay. But you're incomprehenthible. Here. Have thome puthy willowth." 

So she identified a speech impediment but she didn't do anything about it. She didn't direct me to a therapist. I was too cute to fix. Apparently. Why ruin the fun? I suppose everyone thought that.

Flash forward five years. 

Now we live in Japan. I started 5th grade in one school and without moving our home our school was transferred to a brand new building. A brand new military building. And the odd thing was even though the school was brand new. Everything in it brand new. Every light bulb, every desk, every book, every floor tile brand new. The flag was brand new but two stars behind. The flag had forty-eight stars. This was 1965. The flag changed to fifty stars in 1960. They were five years behind. 

They were loath to waste good flags they had in storage. 

So don't go telling me the military wastes money wantonly. They saved money on flags. 

Maybe they thought we wouldn't notice. 

But come on. The arrangement is a lot more attractive. More ordered. You spot it right off. Even a kid does. We didn't even discuss it. We each just noticed it like pffft well look at that antique. 

It goes simply 6 X 8 

Whereas 50 stars goes twenty meshed into thirty,  4x5 meshed into 5x6.

Whoever thought of this is ace at maths. 

So that was the second 5th grade then we actually moved to a more comfortable home and a new school. Narimasu. The school was overloaded so they built Quonset huts to contain the overflow.

How depressing. Now that's military.

I did not like my Quonset hut class. 

I did't like anything. As a child I was a very real asshole. I was unhappy about everything. 

My teacher was a French national. I didn't like him either. 

He made my life miserable. 

By being too hard. 

He thought American education was terrible and his goal was to fix that independently so he made all our lives much harder. We had to perform at a grade level higher. We had to sing songs in French. We had to learn math at 6th grade level. We had to learn history that none of us cared about.

Which songs?

French Christmas carols. We all sang De Bon Matin, the actual title is La Marche des Rois.

De bon matin
J’ai rencontré le train
De trois grands rois qui allaient en voyage.
De bon matin
J’ai rencontré le train
De trois grands rois dessus le grand chemin.
Venaient d’abord
Les gardes du corps,
Des gens armés avec trente petits pages,
Venaient d’abord
Les gardes du corps,
Des gens armés dessus leurs justaucorps.

Ew, I hate him to pieces all over again just thinking about this.

Later, at the next school in the 6th grade, elsewhere and closer to home, a beautiful young French Woman taught us a song in Latin. But she spoke only French. The whole class had to help guess wtf she was saying. She actually drew a picture of an angel on the blackboard for "ange."

The Latin was a lot more difficult.  Adeste Fideles

Adeste, fideles, laeti triumphantes;
Venite, venite in Bethlehem.
Natum videte Regem angelorum.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine,
Parturit virgo mater,
Deum verum, genitum, non factum.

And so on.

But we all liked her quite a lot because she was hot.

And not just regular hot. She was smokin' hot.

The final fifth grade teacher was nice enough, though,  but he was strict as H-E-Double baguettes. 

And demanding. 

He spotted my speech impediment and he directed me to school speech therapist. 

And I was all GOOD! I get out of your f'k'n class once a week. 

La la la. 

There was only one other boy in the speech therapy class. A nice kid my age. We became friends. He didn't say his Rs properly. I didn't hear any problem, but the specialists did. So he practiced saying Rs and I practiced saying Ss. 

We were pals. 

We supported each other. 

I learned there are two ways to say S properly. I was told to choose one and stick with it. So I did. 

Thereafter ...

I'm a little teapot thort and thout 

hereth my handle and hereth my thpout

When I get all thteamed up I just thout

Tip me over and pour me out. 

became

I'm a little teapot short and stout

Here's my handle and here's my spout.

When I get all steamed up I just shout

Tip me over and pour me out. 

Gay.

Gayer than a truckload of Mardi Gras necklaces. 

They wanted me to sound gay. They trained me to sound gay. Goddamn French. They ruined my life. 

I was better off speaking like a retard. 

But at least I don't sound so bad as Jamie Oliver. Jesus Christ, that guy needs help.