Creamy Ramen

That's it

Tonight’s dinner was ramen from a packet.

Some mornings I wake up and, depending on the weather, I can feel that I have a migraine before I even open my eyes. Today was one of those days. If today was a blank sheet of paper, crisp and full of promise, my migraine decided to crumple it up and pee on it.

The day was lost to me writhing in pain and occasionally asking John to do things: prepare coffee (I drank 3 sips), bring me an eggo waffle to eat so I wouldn’t throw up my medication (I threw up my medication), fix the internet when the TV wasn’t connecting - today, of course, of all days.

At some point in the afternoon when I was stable enough to eat something, John kindly retrieved us a Good Bodega Sandwich. Later on in the day when I was hungry again, John bequeathed ownership of his remaining GBS quarter, because he felt pity on me for throwing up all day.

Accepting it felt like a moral trap, but he insisted. I checked in with him even after taking my first bite, to make sure he was still okay with his decision. He was! I’ve since made a mental note to feign vomiting noises in the bathroom more often.

Anyway, about a week ago John came back from the grocery store with two packages of Creamy Chicken flavor ramen (they were on sale!) “in case of emergency” - but everyone knows that these days if you have an emergency in Bushwick, you just run over to the Burger King on Myrtle Ave.

For some reason we were talking recently about a dish he remembered from the TGI Friday’s of his childhood - creamy, buttery noodles that were inexplicably delicious (“Riddle me this… were they just buttered noodles?” - a question I got scolded for asking).

I then said something along the lines of, “well, I could probably make something like that from the ramen you bought,” and by dinnertime tonight, when I was finally feeling myself again, there seemed like no better recovery food than the complex noodle dish of John’s youth.

I melted a few tablespoons of butter in a skillet, added the seasoning packets, and combined it and let it toast slightly (don’t know if this did anything) before adding some heavy cream and letting that reduce a little. I boiled the 2 ramen packets until very al dente, added the noodles to the sauce, and added noodle water 1/4 cup at a time, stirring the whole pan constantly to really get them glossy and coated. Everything probably took 4 minutes to come together, and I’m still feeling unsettled by that.

John slurped up his bowl well before I finished with mine, equally effusive with praise as he gives over meals that take me literally 10 times the time and effort. I returned his sandwich kindness and let him eat the rest of my noodles, not without having to quell his suspicious glances in the same way he did mine. It always makes me happy when he enjoys what I cook, but tonight I can sleep especially soundly knowing that my talents have earned me a place among the ranks of the fine chefs at TGI Friday’s in Sparta, NJ.