Lately, I've felt like my life has exploded around me like a meteorite. Things haven't been bad (in fact, most of the chaos has been the good variety), but I've felt like I haven't had a chance to breathe. My days have been longer (at least the sun is playing along); I go to bed mentally and physically exhausted, and can hardly sleep for the thoughts rattling my brain; every item checked off my list warrants a celebration, but it seems that three more things are tacked onto the end.
I have been cooking, believe it or not. We made roasted chile salsa and tacos de papa for the Super Bowl; I'm eating bowls of spaghetti al mascarpone and penne with pesto frozen last summer; I even made a batch of diminutive lemon macarons with raspberry buttercream filling. Unfortunately, my current level of disorganization resulted in a disastrous kitchen and a missing camera (found it—in the cabinet where it belongs).
I'm sure there's an embarrassment of riches on all the lovely blogs I read; people are probably creating all sorts of delicious fare—but I wouldn't know, as I haven't had a chance to read any of them.
I think I'll be crawling out the crater and joining the real world soon—there will be muffins, and marmalade, and something made with the beautiful chuck roast in my fridge—but in the meantime, I thought I'd share my tips for making ramen.
Ramen may be touted as the food of poor college students and hung over young adults, but when gussied up properly, it makes a fast, cheap, and easy meal, and that's always a comfort when life gets crazy.
Not Your Average Undergrad's Ramen
Adapted from a David Chang recipe I saw somewhere and then forgot.
1 package ramen noodles (any flavor)
1 half-inch piece ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 large cloves garlic, peeled
½ teaspoon sesame oil (plus more if needed)
3 green onions, thinly sliced
1 fresh serrano chile, minced, or a large pinch crushed red peppers
soy sauce to taste
rice vinegar to taste
Bring water to boil in a small pan and add the noodles. Cook until barely tender, 2-4 minutes.
Meanwhile, crush the ginger and garlic in a mortar and pestle. Add the sesame oil.
Drain most of the water from the noodles. Add the ginger mixture, the green onions, and the chile and mix well. (If you want to add the flavoring packet, you can, but it's really not necessary.)
Add a splash of soy sauce and a sprinkle of rice vinegar. Eat, and add the pot to your growing pile of dishes.