Mi Sedaap Mi Segera "Mi Goreng Perisa Asli"

Brand: Mi Sedaap Mi Segera
Flavour: Mi Goreng Perisa Asli
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: three or five
Identifiables: noodles, chili paste, soy sauce, green onion paste, spice, fried onion bits
Sodium: 1.08 grams

Malaysia. I'm eating Malaysian ramen. How cool is that?

Well, it depends. First, my favourite pot (remember "Ben"?) wasn't clean, so rather than do the responsible thing and wash it, I simply readied the backup pot, "Petar". No, seriously, I only just named it. Anyhow, only after that did I read the instructions: cook noodles, empty the other packets into a bowl, drain the noodles, mix with stuff in the bowl. This is more complex than the average brick-in-packet instant noodle. How badly does it play out?

Now, taking a close look at the front of the packet, I notice several things. First, the only English on it is an ersatz stamp reading "Export Quality". I'm not sure how to feel about this. Would I want to eat anything while in Malaysia what wasn't export quality? Then again, I frequently eat stuff in the U.S. that I wouldn't inflict on anyone from other countries, so it's fair. Also, it's halal, which doesn't matter to me but might be good to know for all sorts of folks. (See? I didn't make any jokes at that. I may be an American, but I'm not an idiot.) Next, there's a picture of an onion with some words I can't read and a "5x" identifier. These onions have a score multiplier of five. This ramen is likely to level me up MMORPG-style, and I wonder what attack I'll get next. (Okay, now I'm an idiot.) Finally, I see that the packet is three months past its "expiration date". Bah. Those are always highly conservative estimates anyhow. I fear nothing. (Idiot-o-meter needle is pegged.)

I start the noodles, figuring I have time to prep the rest while they cook. I snap the photo of the packets, all three-to-five of them. Seriously, one of these is a three-part packet. I've never seen anything like it. Trouble is, the tear-ridges are made for separating the packets, not opening them. I fetch my kitchen scissors and, realising I've spent too much time marvelling at the modernist beauty of the thing, cut across the top. The green stuff smells strongly of onions, which doesn't surprise me, and is strangely viscous, which does. The chili paste is strangely viscous. The soy sauce – no, really, it's thicker than fudge sauce. I had to work at it. I empty the dry powder packet just as the three-minute timer beeps at me.

I drain the noodles, Keet-style. That's shorthand for, "She's too lazy to get a strainer, and instead holds the chopsticks across the lip of the pot like a dam to let the boiling water through and keep most of the noodles in." I successfully do this and avoid scalding myself. Noodles go into bowl. Noodles are stirred. The packet specifically reads, "Mix until even," and that takes work due to how thick the pastes are. I tear open the fried onion packet and toss it over the result. It looks like ramen cobbler, and smells tantalisingly of onions. I love onions.

One might expect me to now tell how the positive adventure ended there, but it didn't. The results taste incredibly good with plenty of strong onion flavour, a moderate but not overpowering heat, and a great texture with the gently-crunchy fried onion bits. This stuff might very well tie with the fabled ja jang myun for my favourite instant noodle ever, and that is a tall order, friends. It's worth every ounce of effort, and only the necessity of dirtying a pot and bowl drop the overall score. It's even about half the sodium of most other instant noodles. If this were available in a convenient bowl format, it would be unquestioningly tops, but as it is, it'll have to share the position.

Well, at least it got me my next level. What attack did I get? "Awesome Noodle", which I think is a self-buff to morale.

Numbers: packaging 3, preparation 2, heat 3, flavour 5, overall 5

Music: Cromkayer - Bound Together - The Third String