The Wonderful World Of Ramen

The yellow strands turned out to be made from wheat. When I slurped them in, they slid smoothly over my lips, and when I bit through them, they snapped pleasantly and seemed to dance inside my mouth… They had a delightfully chewy texture and a fragrant wheat aroma. Good wheat had clearly been used.

That rich scent of the earth intertwined with the deeply simmered savoriness of chicken, the umami of seafood, and a broth laden with fat. The soup was filled with a strangely exotic salty flavor, and it paired magnificently with the taste of the wheat!

Delicious… I could not stop! It was a flood of gustatory pleasure!

I kept slurping down the ramen in a trance. From time to time, finely chopped pale-green herbs tangled around the strands and entered my mouth, adding a refreshing flavor that made for an excellent accent.

And now that I was eating it myself, I finally understood why the man beside me had been making such vulgar slurping noises… This dish was simply too hot to eat normally.

But by drawing it in together with plenty of air like this, it cooled to just the right temperature by the time it reached the mouth. Better still, slurping brought the aroma of wheat and broth up through the nose, and it was irresistible!

I see… What an incredibly rational way to eat!

Whether slurping looked vulgar or not was merely a matter of our own table manners. This method was actually the best way to enjoy this dish to its fullest.

I lifted the deep bowl, put it to my lips, and drank the broth. The hot soup slowly traveled down my throat, through my chest, and into my stomach… Then I exhaled. Haaah.

My breath emerged in a cloud of white. Tonight was bitterly cold, so even this “heat” itself felt like part of the feast.

Only after eating about half the bowl did I finally remember the “toppings” sitting on top.

…Oh! That was close. I had almost forgotten… I should savor those as well.

After wondering which one to try first, I stabbed one of the thin slices of meat with the two sticks.
The other two… the spiky white thing marked with a pink spiral, and the mysterious brown object that had been simmered down in seasoning, were both too unfamiliar for me to identify.

As I brought the meat to my mouth, a powerful aroma of garlic reached my nose. The thinly sliced meat had apparently been cooked slowly over a long period of time, because the moment I put it in my mouth, it came apart tenderly, and its delicate thinness felt wonderfully pleasant on the tongue.

Only after taking a bite did I realize that it was pork.

When I chewed the translucent fatty portion, I found that soaking in the hot broth had made it soft and almost melting, and a rich flavor distinct from the fat in the soup itself spread throughout my mouth.

The meat had likely been seasoned with the same condiment used in the ramen broth… It had a strange, exotic taste, but the saltiness had thoroughly penetrated the pork, making it exceptionally delicious.

…To think someone would prepare ordinary pork with such care!

Deeply impressed, I let out a thoughtful hum.

Every ingredient used in this dish—pork, chicken, wheat—was perfectly commonplace.

I had lived my life sparing no effort in the pursuit of gourmet food. When it came to meat in particular, I had always believed that steak cut from the base of a dragon’s tail was the finest thing in existence.

And yet this pork, this chicken broth, and these wheat strands had completely overturned my entire sense of culinary value!

And if that was the case… I turned my eyes toward the remaining two strange ingredients floating in the soup.

One was a long, thin brown “something” that had been simmered in seasoning, while the other was a round white “something” with ridged edges and a pink spiral.

By this point, my trust in the man in white had become absolute.

If his cooking had already moved me this profoundly, then surely these final two ingredients would “shatter” my preconceptions as well!

Now then… which one should I try first…?