Revising ramen directions and investigating the mystery of a well-seasoned plate.
As a college student, I was contractually obligated to go on an instant ramen kick. I tried almost every flavor of Maruchan ramen and always stocked it in the house. But somewhere along the line, it just lost its magic… a few bites in and I’d already grown tired of the flavor. It began to taste homogenous, utterly lacking in complexity.
I started to accept the fact that my beloved instant noodles were nothing more than a cheap meal. They would forevermore be just alright.
Or so I thought.
Last Christmas, my brother got me a box of assorted snack from Hua Xing Asia Market: milk-flavored chews with lil cows on them, “plum candy” that tasted like balls of salt, and most notably, several packages of Indomie instant noodles.
I was excited to try some new flavors, but I wasn’t expecting much. I foolishly thought that Maruchan was the pinnacle of instant noodles – any other brand would be just as bland. But then, the fateful day came when I ripped open my Indomie noodles and discovered five different packets of sauces and seasonings.
I was flabbergasted. Stupefied. My whole life, I’d grown accustomed to Maruchan ramen and their single, measly seasoning packet. But now, with five delightful packets spread before me, I finally saw the truth: those bastards at Maruchan had been holding out on me.
I’ve tastefully dissected a package of Indomie Hot & Spicy below.
It’s quite a spread, though admittedly these ingredients aren’t exactly fancy. Still, dumping out each packet one by one almost makes me feel like I’m preparing a real meal instead of a 25¢ block of sodium. Speaking of, how do we combine all these ingredients? As expected, the instructions are short and simple:
I don't know who vandalized my noodles with “coronavirus,” but their callous fearmongering won’t stop me from enjoying my Sweet & Spicy noods.
If you’re like me, and if you actually read the directions just now instead of heartlessly skimming past them, then you were probably perturbed by Step 2. Spread the sauces and seasonings on a plate, and then add the noodles on top? Doesn’t it make more sense to empty the packets on top of the noodles? They’re getting mixed together regardless, but most recipes I’ve seen add sauces and spices to the top of the food, not the bottom.
Perceptive readers may notice I’ve omitted the fried onions from this stack. I’ll return to this crucial detail later
I mean really, doesn’t that just look weird? Sauces and seasonings just stacked up on a naked plate? I’ve spent many long nights pondering this detail… why did the writers write the steps in this order?
The one explanation I can think of is that it’s a tiny bit more efficient to empty the packets while the noodles are cooking. Instant noodles are supposed to be a quick meal. These noodles also get cold super quickly while spread out on the plate, so again, you’ll want to work as efficiently as possible.
However, I’m just not convinced that this dump-‘em-on-the-plate technique saves much time. I’ve tried preparing the noodles both ways, and the sauces get stuck to the plate if you add them before the noodles. I save time emptying the packets while the noodles cook, but then I lose time because I must stir more thoroughly. Part of me wants to run some empirical trials to see which method is faster, but at that point others would start to question my sanity.
Ultimately, adding the seasoning powder, chili powder, seasoning oil, and soy sauce directly to the plate isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just kinda weird. I still don’t understand the decision, but I won’t roast the writers too much on that front. However, there is something truly horrific about these directions – a sin I simply can’t forgive.
You see, the first couple times I had these noodles, I prepared them the traditional way. Outside of some difficulty stirring the ingredients, all seemed well… until I slurped the last noodle. Looking at my empty plate, I was distressed to see that roughly a third of the fried onions were stuck to the bottom of the plate. Despite my vigorous stirring, they never found their way onto the noodles. I glumly tried to scrape up a few bits of cold fried onions, but they would hardly budge off the plate.
Of course, this isn’t an issue if you mix the other four ingredients with the noodles and then add the fried onions on top. By adding the fried onions in a separate step at the end, you ensure that they don’t get stuck to the plate. Thus, I recommend the following revisions to these instructions:
To make room for the new content regarding fried onions, I removed the line “Your delicious noodles are ready to serve.” Us technical writers have no room in our cold, dead hearts for such pleasantries. While I was at it, I also changed “sachets” to “packets.” Both terms are fine, but I think most users would use the term “packet” over “sachet.”
Takeaway: Pay close attention to the chronology of steps. It may seem like multiple steps can be condensed into one, but that’s only true if the chronology is completely irrelevant.
In this example, mixing the sauces and spices in the same step is fine. However, if you mix the fried onions in that step, you’ll end up with a sad heap of soggy onion bits stuck to your plate.
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Goddamnit. I just can’t let it go. Why are they putting the seasonings directly on the plate? Who does that??? Maybe it’s just an efficiency thing, but I’m not convinced that’s truly the answer. I need to investigate deeper.
Indomie is an Indonesian company – maybe this strange technique is the norm for Indonesian cuisine? I skimmed a few Indonesian recipes, but they all added spices to the top of the food. Although, all these recipes are written in English… there’s an outside chance they’ve been Americanized.
To find authentic Indonesian recipes, I translated “Indonesian recipes” into Indonesian (“resep masakan Indonesia”) and Googled that instead. I found some Indonesian recipe sites, translated them back to English, and scanned through a few more recipes. Every recipe I looked at still added spices to the top of the food.
Maybe I’m thinking too big. It’s not a tradition for Indonesian cuisine in general, but it could still be the norm for Indonesian instant noodles. I researched the top Indonesian noodle brands and ended up on the following web page:
Help me Ramen Rater, you're my only hope.
If anyone has the knowledge to answer my question, it’s The Ramen Rater. This man has made almost 3,500 ramen reviews. I didn’t even know that much ramen existed. In shockingly convenient fashion, The Ramen Rater compiled a list of the best Indonesian instant noodles with detailed reviews of each. Crucially, each review includes a photo of the instructions.
My sanity is briefly restored by the Mi Sedaap ramen instructions – they specifically say to add the fried onions last. At least someone over there understands the problem. Regardless, every brand of Indonesian instant noodles I looked at says to spread the sauces and seasonings on the plate.
Okay, great, now I know this technique is the norm for instant noodles there. I could’ve guessed as much, but it’s nice to be certain. I still don’t know why it’s the norm. Part of me thinks it’s best to trust their judgment – if every Indonesian instant noodle brand is doing it, it must be right. But another part of me loves to recklessly break conventions and thinks these Indonesian noodle makers are just big ol dummies.
Only one person on this planet can settle this dispute.
I asked The Ramen Rater himself. If anyone knows why the Indonesian noodle brands order their instructions this way, it’s him. Well, him and the Indonesian people who wrote the instruction. But I don’t speak Indonesian, so they’re out of the picture. For good measure, I also asked a representative from Indomie in Croatia.
I eagerly await replies from both of them so I can finally solve this mystery. Until then, I won’t make any final judgments about the dump-the-seasonings-on-the-plate technique.
Bonus Behind-the-Scenes Pic:
Words cannot describe how ridiculous I felt adjusting the angles and lightning for some goddamn noodles. At one point, a gnat started dive-bombing my noods and I had to karate chop that fucker away. In retrospect, a karate chop is probably one of the least effective hand motions for dealing with a gnat.
Update (4/27/20):
Sadly, I have not heard back from either The Ramen Rater or Indomie. However, I did come across a couple helpful anecdotes.
My classmate, Jamie, grew up in Southeast Asia and has been eating Indomie ramen her whole life. She recounted her experiences watching street food vendors prepare stir fry. Typically, they heat aromatics and spices in the oil before adding other ingredients, like the noodles.
Jamie speculated that Indomie's instant noodle instructions might be a holdover from this traditional method of preparation. Placing the seasonings on the plate when making instant noodles mimics putting them on the pan when making traditional street food. Of course, adding spices to a plate won’t infuse them the way that heating them in oil does, so the practice still seems unnecessary. Nonetheless, it is plausible that the writers of these instructions were just adhering to previous traditions.
My friend, Wandi, is another avid consumer of Indomie instant noodles. She independently came to the same conclusion about the directions – add the fried onions last, or else they’ll get soggy and stick to the plate. (She also recommended buying extra fried onions to add on, which I need to try ASAP). Based on all the feedback I’ve been getting, adding the fried onions to the top of the noodles is clearly the way to go.