Alright noshers, I’m back with another delicious recipe that none of you asked for. Much like you, it’s simple, cheap, and delicious! I can’t take credit for this masterpiece, but I do make it quite often. It comes from Chef Roy Choi. If you’ve ever seen the movie or the series “Chef”, you’ll recognize him. He’s the brains behind the operation with loads of unique talent.

This ridiculously easy dish starts out with a single pack of ramen noodles with that little pack of magic soup dust. That little msg packed foil pouch is important, so don’t lose it. You’re also going to need a chicken egg (preferably, unfertilized) and 2 slices of American cheese. Trust me! Don’t go gettin’ all fancy and trying to use a better cheese. Nothing melts like American singles. Fight me. You will also need toasted sesame seeds. I used to toast my own until I found out you can buy them already toasted! I know, right?! No need to complicate things. The last two things you’ll need are a pat of butter and some sliced scallions, green end only. That’s green onions for you culinary deficient folks.

Now, this isn’t fancy ramen like the kind you get at some bougie place in downtown Ann Arbor, that you waaaay overpaid for. This is sustenance. This is life. This feeds your soul.

You’re gonna start off by boiling 2 cups of H2O and cooking the noods according to the package. I believe it’s 3 minutes. Let’s just go with that. Here’s a pro tip: Break up the noodles while they’re still in the pack. Makes life easier. And who doesn’t want easier, amirite?! Dump that freeze-dried pack of pasta (that looks like Justin Timberlake’s hair circa 1995) into the pan and add that concentrated powder pack of flavor and stir to combine. The instructions say to do it at the end. But they’re wrong and I’m right.

When there’s 30 seconds or so left on the timer you forgot to set, toss in that butta and crack that egg right into the water. Fold some of the noodles over the egg and let it poach. Now turn off the burner. I like to break the yolk almost immediately and stir it right into the soup, or you can leave it whole and let it continue to cook. This is your slop to eat, so you do you, boo!

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations. It’s time to transfer this scorching hot goodness to a bowl. I prefer a bowl over a plate, because it’s a bowl and bowls are good for things like soup. Plates are not. I also find it helpful if you don’t burn yourself during this process. Once you have it in your vessel of choice, slap those two pieces of American processed plastic that we talked about earlier, right on top. I know this goes against everything you’ve ever learned about cooking soup. You must trust me. Have I ever let you down before? If you know me, then the answer would be yes, but that’s a topic that only my therapist is privy to.

As the “cheese” begins to melt, you will start to understand the beauty of this uncomplicated dish. Sprinkle the top with those toasted sesame seeds and the green onion. I like to add a little (a lot) sriracha to mine or if I’m really hating myself, I’ll add a few dashes of Bravado’s A.K.A Miso Ghost-Reaper sauce. This stuff is seriously hot and will give you something to cry about other than your life choices.

It’s time to stir up this crazy concoction and get to slurping! I prefer to use one of those deep spoons you find at Asian restaurants. You can get them online for souper cheap. Chop sticks are another option, but I’m not coordinated enough for that noise.

This dish represents comfort. If food could wrap you up and give you a big hug, this is what would do it. If you suffer from depression, you will still suffer depression after eating it. It’s food, not bourbon. So, build a blanket pillow fort, put on your most comfortable clothes, (as if you weren’t already in them), que up Good Girls on Netflix and remember that a happy belly is a happy mind.

Bone Apple Teeth!

The Depressed Chef