I got food poisoning recently and threw up every over-priced sandwich, mimosa, and eggs benedict I’d eaten in the days prior. I’m alone! I’m sick! I just want to die! I cried out to the Twitter abyss. I emerged 24 hours later, pulling my face from the toilet, and thinking I’d never regain my appetite. I briefly considered what this would mean for my figure and lifestyle when I suddenly felt a tiny pang of hunger. I had the most intense craving for one thing and one thing only: Ramen Noodles.
There’s Good Bad Food and there’s Bad Bad Food. The first descriptor refers to taste, and the second to quality. (Calories are not of consideration in this model.) Something tasty and fresh would be Good Good Food. Something nasty and processed would be Bad Bad Food. Terrible in theory, yet delicious in your mouth, Ramen Noodles are what I call Good Bad Food.
Delectable, yet mysteriously so, Ramen Noodles hold unparalleled intrigue. Contained and controlled in a neat packet, they loosen in a pot of boiling water, emerging like a flower, a baby, or love’s first kiss. We are wound so tightly, and the three-minute release of the Ramen brick is letting one’s guard down, a transformation where one is relaxed, complete, and unashamed of eating such shit for dinner.
There was a segment on All Things Considered last year where thousands of listeners submitted stories about Ramen Noodles. This prompted me to Google the prepackaged soup and find countless websites devoted to their glory. The world’s infatuation with Ramen Noodles is both insatiable and fascinating. Processed, laced with MSG, unfulfilling, and ultimately average, Ramen Noodles are a comfort food among comfort foods, uniting the planet in a tightly wound coil of cheap pasta. I also adore them, but am unsure why.
So, what say you? Are Ramen Noodles a guilty pleasure or just a pleasure? Can any other food cross over geographic and social lines quite like they can? Is a pack of ten soup-bricks the ultimate universal truth?
There’s Good Bad Food and there’s Bad Bad Food. The first descriptor refers to taste, and the second to quality. (Calories are not of consideration in this model.) Something tasty and fresh would be Good Good Food. Something nasty and processed would be Bad Bad Food. Terrible in theory, yet delicious in your mouth, Ramen Noodles are what I call Good Bad Food.
Delectable, yet mysteriously so, Ramen Noodles hold unparalleled intrigue. Contained and controlled in a neat packet, they loosen in a pot of boiling water, emerging like a flower, a baby, or love’s first kiss. We are wound so tightly, and the three-minute release of the Ramen brick is letting one’s guard down, a transformation where one is relaxed, complete, and unashamed of eating such shit for dinner.
There was a segment on All Things Considered last year where thousands of listeners submitted stories about Ramen Noodles. This prompted me to Google the prepackaged soup and find countless websites devoted to their glory. The world’s infatuation with Ramen Noodles is both insatiable and fascinating. Processed, laced with MSG, unfulfilling, and ultimately average, Ramen Noodles are a comfort food among comfort foods, uniting the planet in a tightly wound coil of cheap pasta. I also adore them, but am unsure why.
So, what say you? Are Ramen Noodles a guilty pleasure or just a pleasure? Can any other food cross over geographic and social lines quite like they can? Is a pack of ten soup-bricks the ultimate universal truth?
