don't eat your eggs raw, man. ha!

I never thought I'd find myself eating ramen in college, but life is full of surprises! I live near supermarkets and I have a wonderful mother who cooks food and ships it to me...but I still eat ramen.

(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.

Before Cooking:
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.

While Cooking:
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.

Finishing Up:
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.

Before Eating:
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 walk from the kitchen to my room provides me just enough time for my saliva to prep the spoon for flavor maximization. I use my free hand to place a cloth I stole from a friend under the pot, so I don't warp my desk...again.

While Eating:
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.

After Eating:
I have to wash my dishes, but I really don't like to. I usually wait till someone needs the pot.