Annie Chun's "Udon Soup Bowl"

Brand: Annie Chun's
Flavour: Udon Soup Bowl
Format: plastic bowl
Packets: three
Identifiables: noodle mat, flavouring liquid, brick-o-stuff
Sodium: 0.92 grams

I've been eating instant noodles for a long time. I wasn't quite raised on them, any more than I was raised on Lucky Charms or hot dogs or any of the other lifespan-shortening foods I ate when young. I do recall my father preparing the ramen and throwing extras in. He'd add a little dried seaweed here and there, or minced onion, or perhaps chopped up bits of mystery lunchmeat, or whatever seemed like it might go in nicely. He'd been to Korea, and apparently he'd learned the wise ways of turning several bits of cheap food into something a little more interesting than any single component would have been. Now I'm older than he was when he started getting really creative with ramen, and I appreciate the technique more than ever.

This, friends, is why it seems absurd to read the label of a higher-priced fancy instant noodle like Annie Chun's Udon Soup Bowl – the one that proudly proclaims that it includes all-natural vegan bok choy and shiitake mushrooms in an earth-friendly biodegradable bowl – and see that it suggests adding more shiitake or some sliced tofu or cooked shrimp or chicken for "an even more flavorful soup". Who keeps spare cooked shrimp just sitting around? And at this price, shouldn't there already be plenty of mushrooms?

Nonetheless, I took a break from my Ramenbox and, at the encouragement of one of my loyal readers, reviewed one of the bowls I'd received from Pat McK. so long ago. This one has outer packaging meant to invoke the rich colours of an expensive Japanese restaurant. Once the cardboard sheath is off and the cellophane is removed, an ivory-coloured bowl opens to reveal a sealed packet of thick pre-cooked noodles, a fuchsia-coloured packet with liquid soup base which turns out to be mostly soy sauce, and a white packet with a brick of dehydrated stuff. What stuff? Authentic Japanese stuff, most assuredly.

The instructions are confounding. They're readable enough, being in plain and error-free English, but I will reproduce them here with commentary in parentheses:

Microwave Cooking Directions: (I usually worry when these are listed first.)
1. Place noodles in bowl and pour a cup of hot water over the noodles to soften. (They didn't soften. How long was I supposed to steep them?)
2. Using lid, drain water from noodles. (Does this mean the cooking is done?)
3. Add soup base and toppings to moistened noodles. (The toppings are more like one single topping brick.)
4. Add 1 to 1¼ cups of water and loosely cover with lid. (Not the same water I poured out, then? And why isn't there a measuring line inside the bowl?)
5. Microwave on high for 1–2 minutes, until noodles are hot. (I gave them a minute and a half and they were still sort of tepid. One minute? Not likely.)
6. Stir well and enjoy! (The stirring is necessary, as the topping hadn't completely separated into bits.)
No microwave? Add 1 to 1¼ cups boiling water to soup base, toppings, and noodles. Cover with lid and let stand 2 minutes. (Wait... isn't this easier? Wouldn't this make more sense? How do the microwave directions help at all?)

The result is a bowl of softer noodles in medium-dark brown broth, a splendid array of vegetables, and some things that might be intended to stand in for fried tofu but come across more like drowned pork rinds. The flavour is... confusing. On one hand, there certainly is plenty of the much-heralded umami component, that essential fifth axis along which all tastes are measured. On the other, the noodles taste and smell more like soggy Play-Doh than anything one would eat past the age of four. I don't recall udon tasting quite like this before. I'll have to refresh my memory at one of those expensive Japanese restaurants I mentioned. Unfortunately, the flavour is further sunk by stale-tasting vegetables and the mystery strips. It's just not meant to be.

Overall, I can't really recommend this, but I'm open to comments from anyone else who's tried the same stuff and found it pleasant. Perhaps it must be consumed immediately after manufacture, before the Play-Doh sets. That's not the way this bowl should remind me of my childhood.

Numbers: packaging 4, preparation 2/3, heat 0, flavour 1, overall 2
Music: ott - skylon - rogue bagel

Mama "Shrimp (Tom Yum) Flavour"

Brand: Mama
Flavour: Shrimp (Tom Yum) Flavour
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: three
Identifiables: noodle brick, flavour sludge, soup powder, chili powder
Sodium: 2.42 grams

I really must find a more suitable host body.

This weak, inferior, human shell is vulnerable to all manner of hazards; radiation exposure, temperature extremes, rapid pressure changes, and so forth. That defeats me this time? A viral infection called the "common cold". Bah! Such difficulties will not impede my master plan, however!

It so happens that my master plan includes eating spicy noodle soup. For this reason, I love the well-known Thai dish called tom yum goong. It's got spicy heat and onion, tangy kaffir lime and lemon grass, and tasty seafood. What more can one ask from a soup? Having it ready in the comfort of one's own home in three minutes and with minimal effort, perhaps.

The Mama brand interpretation of this classic dish is not quite the same as the original, but the truth is that it'll do in a pinch. For one thing, it's fairly easy to prepare. The directions – printed, like everything else on the package, against a very shiny packground with pink stripes, making the small text difficult to read – guide one to put everything within the package into a bowl, pour 400ml boiling water over it, and let it sit covered for three minutes. Even taking account this host body's compromised state, I can do this!

The noodle brick seems fairly standard, though with slightly thinner noodles than most ramen. There are three packets, however, and that brings the preparation score dangerously close to being docked back down to a two. One packet has the brand name on it... in Thai. This contains a gritty flavouring paste the colour of tamarind. The other two packets are in a classic pair of shiny side-by-side pouches. one is labelled with the brand name in both Thai and English; this contains what looks like sand with bits of herb in it. The other is also bilingual, but this time it's actually descriptive, warning the unwary eater that it holds chilli powder within.

After three minutes' cooking in hot water, the result is a thin broth with orange dots of oil at the surface, and an abundance of noodles, The flavour is as described above; the sweet lime takes front and centre, with the lemon grass and seafood trailing behind, and a good level of heat throughout. I actually enjoy this particular arrangement, but others may disagree simply because it's not exactly balanced. Thus, I have to say that my verdict is: don't be afraid to include it in your next Ramenbox and give it a try (remembder the CTF discount code!) but don't fill the whole box with this flavour unless you already know that you'll really, really like it.

Now, I'm going to go curl up with a box of tissues and my various handheld game consoles.

Numbers: packaging 3, preparation 3, heat 3, flavour 4, overall 4
Music: Dean Evans - Waterworld (SNES) - Diving

Sapporo Ichiban "Original"

Brand: Sapporo Ichiban
Flavour: Original
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: one
Identifiables: noodle brick, flavour powder
Sodium: 2.06 grams

I've heard it said that the Japanese are fond of salty foods when drinking. Of course, so are we Americans (don't be fooled by my Commonwealth spellings!) but while we choose peanuts and pretzels, they choose edamame and ramen. Either way, we're talking about legumes and wheat. Thus, it shouldn't surprise that while we think of the name Sapporo primarily as a brand of beer, it is also a brand of ramen. (The two brands, however, are not of the same company.)

As one might expect, this ramen is optimised for easy recognition and preparation. Like many others, the package is simple and colour-coded to match the flavour within. The noodles take only three minutes to cook. There's only one flavour packet and it is added after the noodles are done. This is truly a ramen with impairment in mind – it could only improve if it were to appear in a cup instead. Thus, there's rather little to tell about the packaging or the contents. It's refreshingly unchallenging.

Once cooked, the nicely firm noodles are strongly wheaty, but of a dry sort that tastes almost dusty. The flavourings are impossible to pinpoint, save for soy. It's lightly sweet, rather salty, and completely nondescript. In other words, it's precisely the sort of accompinament to a Sapporo lager because it makes you want to drink more. On its own, however, it's not terribly notable.

To sum up: If you're looking for interesting flavours to put in your Ramenbox, you can safely pass this one by.

Numbers: packaging 3, preparation 2, heat 0, flavour 2, overall 2
Music: Hybrid - I Choose Noise - Choke (feat. John Graham)

Komforte Chockolates "Ramen Noodle"

Brand: Komforte Chockolates
Flavour: Ramen Noodle
Format: bar
Packets: zero
Identifiables: chocolate bar
Sodium: 0.11 grams

A week ago, devoted reader Pat McK. (yes, the one who sent me my very first arrived-in-mail ramen) e-mailed me to ask if I'd seen the Komforte Ramen Noodle chocolate bar. I had not! I made vague plans to swing by the nearest Uwajimaya at some point to pick up one of these curiosities for review. Before I had the chance, however, my good friends Jason and Sylvia gave me a bar as a gift! After today's ramen, it would make the perfect dessert, yes?

The packaging is amazingly straightforward. It's a bold red and white package without gradients, pictures, or logos, but plenty of text set in Futura. I'm more than okay with that. This is the sort of design I absolutely adore, and it's not too much exaggeration to say that it really heightens the experience for me. Within that outer sheath is dark brown foil wrapping, similarly understated while still clearly designed. I love this sort of thing!

The chocolate itself is a well-tempered solid bar with break lines to make it four parts. Each is somewhat shiny with a wave pattern on it reminiscent of ramen noodles (though this may simply be the pattern they use for all their bars; I don't know yet.) The bar is 53% cocoa content dark chocolate with, as expected, crisp uncooked ramen noodles woven into it. The first piece I ate seemed a bit uneven and had rather few noodle bits, but the second had rather more. They provide a strange sort of crunch, not as noticeable as crisp rice but enough to give a curious texture to the bar and add a little bit of the wheaty lightly-fried goodness that only a brick of instant noodles can provide. Overall, the ramen plays only the tiniest role, so those looking for a chocolate-coated noodle brick won't find it here. It's also not terribly sweet, and that's a good thing even though it might be a little dark for the tastes of many.

Still, it's chocolate with ramen in it. I'm having to really work to not devour the rest of the bar before my wife can try some. Thanks again for pointing me at this, Pat, Sylvia, and Jason!

Numbers: packaging 5, preparation 5, heat 0, flavour 4, overall 5
Music: Jean-Jacques Perrey - Moog Indigo - Passport To The Future

Paldo "Green Tea Chlorella"

Brand: Paldo
Flavour: Green Tea Chlorella
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: two
Identifiables: noodle brick, veggie bits, flavour powder
Sodium: 1.66 grams

Take a look at that thing. It's like a weakling packet of Maruchan was exposed to gamma radiation and mutated into a giant green shorts-wearing monster, except without the shorts or the sad music whenever it leaves town for another. This, truly, is a massive brick of green ramen. But this is no mere dye job like crappy beer at some pub that's desperately pretending to be Irish around St. Patrick's Day. This is honest green, green by lineage and by right. This is true green.

It's not the first time I've reviewed green ramen, so that part didn't surprise me. In this case it's not spinach that's responsible for the colour, but green tea powder, also known as matcha, which has become terrifyingly trendy. I must admit that I don't normally enjoy green tea all that much, but it is with the heart of a scientist that I pursue knowledge of this type of instant noodle. (Don't ask me which scientist; I assure you, he was rather surprised when I took it.) I have to admit that I thought a Chlorella was a type of compact car that could almost be the size of the noodle brick, but it turns out to be a nutritive, photosynthesising algae, which is nearly as useful.

Preparation is as simple as packet ramen gets. Everything is well-pinked for easy opening, including the outer package itself. Boil 550ml water, dump the contents of every packet involved in to simmer for four minutes. The outcome is a colourful mass of light green noodles, dark green seaweed, bright red pepper rings, and light brown broth. It barely fit into my bowl.

The taste is... blended. What I mean by that is that no particular flavour stands out much. There's a bit of green tea, but it doesn't overpower, meaking it pleasant even to my palate. The seafood base is slightly stronger, but it doesn't stand out in front either. There's a little spice, a level of saltiness that one expects from most ramen, and warm vegetable notes. This ramen may come across as nothing special, but despite its freakish mutant appearance, it's a well-rounded and mild-mannered noodle, worthy of our admiration. Perhaps there's a moral to this story, but I'm choosing to ignore it in favour of pointing and laughing at funny-looking ramen packages. I'm one of the mean kids.

Wait, the moral of the story is... if you're going to order something from Ramenbox, you can't really go wrong with this.

Numbers: packaging 3, preparation 2, heat 2, flavour 4, overall 3
Music: Jean-Jacques Perrey - The In Sound From Way Out! - Cosmic Ballad

Nong Shim "Neoguri"

Brand: Nong Shim
Flavour: Neoguri
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: two
Identifiables: noodle brick, veggie bits, flavour powder
Sodium: 2.08 grams

Ever since I received it from Ramenbox (did you remember the CHEAPERTHANFOOD ten percent discount code?) I've had instant noodle fans knocking on my door, begging me to review Nong Shim's Neoguri. They want to know if it's as spicy as Shin Ramyun. They want to know if it's got more seafood flavour than Shin Ramyun. They want to know if it fills the bowl and the soul like Shin Ramyun. The answer to all these questions and more is an emphatic yes!

Similar to its fiery cousin, Neoguri starts with a brick of noodles. These are rather pudgy-seeming noodles, agreeing somewhat with the attractive package's claim of "Udon Type Noodles". Perhaps they're a bit thicker than those in Shin Ramyun, but I can't see opening a packet of that just to find out, because there's plenty to eat here! This is one of those rare times that a packet says "two servings" and just might actually mean it. Given that these are to be boiled in nineteen-and-a-half ounces of water (twenty would be right out, you see) it's a fairly sizable meal.

The simplicity of preparation is a joy, really. Toss the noodle brick in along with everything else – all at once! – and count off five minutes. The product is a rather opaque orange broth in which fat noodles swim happily along with bits of seaweed, carrot, and "sea tangle" (which turns out to be kombu). The flavour really is basically Shin Ramyun, just as spicy but with more seafood and seaweed flavour, and I approve of this heartily. If you're like me and have made Shin Ramyun your stable instant noodle, consider supplementing it with Neoguri. If you dislike the former for the spiciness, however, you'll find no relief in the latter.

Say... why did I rank Shin Ramyun so low the first time around? Perhaps I didn't realise how good I had it....

Numbers: packaging 3, preparation 2, heat 4, flavour 4, overall 4
Music: Hirokazu "Hip" Tanaka - Super Mario Land (GBC) - World Music 3

Ibumie HarMee "Mi perisa udang: Prawn Flavour"

Brand: Ibumie HarMee
Flavour: Mi perisa udang: Prawn Flavour
Format: brick-in-packet
Packets: five
Identifiables: noodle brick, vegetable oil, seasoning powder, soya sauce, chilli powder, onion bits
Sodium: unknown

Here, we have the fourth and final ramen gited me by your friend and mine, "Hana from MIT". This time, it's a warm, friendly, bright red package witha picture of noodles in broth with prawns stacked on top. I must admit a weakness of mine; I think I'd eat nearly anything with seafood stacked on top of it. Sadly, there's no seafood in the package, and I didn't have any prawns handy....

A pattern has evolved in these Malaysian instant noodles. The instructions for preparation are strangely specific about the amount of water involved – 270ml in this case! – and at least there's a mention of how long to cook the noodles this time, but from there it's not even obvious how many packets we're dealing with because all the directions say is "add seasonings and stir gently". I expected one packet, perhaps two. There are five.

Two foil packets containing chili powder and soup base are in a classic paired configuration, each with pinking that forces a tear along the long edge. A similar pair of conjoined clear packets holds palm oil (orange, with lots of flavonoids!) and kecap, a thick and sweetened soy sauce. Finally, there's a small packet with bits of fried onion, which is delightful but flawed in that there is no notch, no pinking, no tear-strip to open the little thing, and it's been imperviously sealed in a way that would put radioactive waste barrels to shame. I had to take a scissors to it. (Actually, I used a hole punch because it was at hand. Don't ask how that happened.)

I mixed the seasonings with the cooked noodles and stirred; the result is a mass of rather sturdy noodles in red-brown broth. (I really have to find some way to remind myself to get a photo of the cooked noodles.) When I say sturdy, I mean that these are very solid, satisfying noodles that could give Cintan a hard run for their money. The flavour of the broth is reminiscent of too many other things to pinpoint, prawns and chilis and onions and soy and fried stuff. All together, it's like the slightly more wet cousin of mi goreng, and I'll be honest here – that fills me with a smile. This is definitely the winner of the set.

Thanks again, Hana! Next review, I return to the goodies from Ramenbox. Stay tuned, ramen fans and fanatics!

Numbers: packaging 2, preparation 2, heat 3, flavour 5, overall 4
Music: Matthew Ebel - Goodbye Planet Earth - Everybody Needs A Robot