(Un)Fortunately, I have roommates who introduced me to Shin Ramen, which I torture my kidneys with no more than 2 times per week. In addition to being delicious, cooking it is a lot of fun, likewise reflecting on an ordinary task.
When someone in my house starts cooking, the others ask what he's going to cook. Sometimes, the questionee neglects to give a real answer. This means they're cooking ramen. What follows is a caucophony of eclectic laughs and self-deprecation.
Starting to Cook:
When I cook, I usually call a friend or blast some music. Cooking ramen requires very little attention, so I can do whatever I want while ¾ of the suggested amount of water boils. Hold tight: this small act of rebellion has a two-fold purpose. I usually take several sips of water to prepare my body for the copious amount of salt I am going to ingest. I throw the ramen and its enclosures into the water, stirring with chopsticks.
It has taken me a long time to develop an eye for detecting "egg-ready noodles." When their opacity nears .75, I take two eggs out of the fridge and open the trashcan. The perfect height to crack eggs from is 6 inches above the top of the noodles. At this velocity, the egg will drop below the noodles and cook thoroughly. Much trial and error brought me to this number, though I should have known all along it would be 6.
Blind faith prompts me to shut off the stove when it seems appropriate. The goal is cooked whites with runny yellows. I immediately pour the remaining ¼ of the suggested amount of water to stop the eggs from cooking much more. Also, my mouth's heat tolerance is low, so this allows me to eat my ramen right away.
I quickly chop up some green onions, or, as we call them at home, "grunions," and throw them into the pot. I set the chopsticks in the pot, put a ramen spoon in my mouth, and wear an oven mitt to help handle the hot handle. If you were paying close attention, you might be wondering why I didn't just put the ramen spoon in my other hand.
The chopsticks in my right (dominant) hand provide noodles and the spoon in my left provides nectar. I break the egg with the spoon to access the liquid gold I worked so hard to perfect. I keep a single tissue nearby since my nose always runs a little.
I have to wash my dishes, but I really don't like to. I usually wait till someone needs the pot.