Every person who has ever been in desperate enough financial straits to wonder what they’re going to eat that day is undoubtedly familiar with Ramen instant noodles. It’s a good system; it’s like 50 cents for a cup, you throw in some hot water, and you’ve got a tasty meal to sustain you for another day of dealing with idiots and doing pointless work. I am here to tell you that Ramen is fool’s gold. The ultimate instant noodle is known as Nong Shim, and it is like eating pure joy.

Though there are a wide variety of instant noodle flavors available in the Nong Shim family, the ultimate one is Hot and Spicy. These noodles take no prisoners. They do not fuck around. Koreans students studying abroad will often give these noodles to their international friends as a joke, because upon sampling them most people invariably start weeping like babies due to the extreme levels of spice contained therein. Upon this horrible, shameful failure, most Koreans will call you a pussy and eat the rest of the noodles themselves. My Korean girlfriend once sought to deliver this mortal blow to my ego, but things didn’t turn out quite like she hoped.

We prepared the noodles. This is an easy process. You boil some water in a pot, throw the noodles in, then rip open the little sauce packet and pour it in. Five minutes of stirring later you have awesome culinary delight. The first thing I noticed was that the blood-red color of the sauce. Once it is added to the mixture, the noodles take on an extremely intimidating appearance. The water turns red and murky, with chunks of noodle and vegetable bobbing throughout. It looks like you have just slain an enemy, cracked open his skull, and poured the contents into a pot. If there is another food that makes me feel like a conquering, cannibalistic warlord everytime I eat it, I would like to see it.

We placed the pot upon the table, and it gave off a very pleasing aroma. It was so spicy that it burned the inside of my nostrils a little bit just smelling it. I knew right away this was some hardcore food. I took my first bite and almost passed out. The extreme rush of flavor was unlike anything I had ever tasted before in my life. A lifetime of bland American food had blinded me to the joys of spicy food. I realized that the Chinese food I had once looked upon as the vanguard of spiciness was watered down, Americanized, and pussified. A few tears did indeed stream down my face, but not tears of pain; no, these were tears of happiness. I was so happy to have found such delicious food that I literally began weeping. Some people might say that makes me a wimp, but those people have never had Nong Shim noodles before. Then, something I could never have anticipated happened, something far beyond a mere culinary experience.

As the very essence of fire was fused with my body through the noodles, I noticed that time seemed to slow down. For a brief, shining moment I attained perfect enlightenment and wisdom. I understood the origins of time, space, and floated in a holy void outside of the constrains of my mortal body. In each breath, I experienced a universe’s birth, life, and death. I saw how every atom was interconnected, and gained the knowledge of how to attain eternal life. Then, I swallowed my mouthful of Nong Shim noodles and all was lost. I collapsed to the floor, and awoke several hours later to my girlfriend shaking me. I remembered the words of Muad’Dib as he emerged from his self-induced Spice trance in the Dune novels: “You…wouldn’t…believe…the things…I’ve seen!” Ever since that day I have faithfully meditated and feasted upon the noodles, hoping to once again approach that state of Nirvana. Unfortunately, I fear that the noodles reveal their mystery but once to each man, and my glimpse beyond the veil of the senses afforded to me by the great Nong Shim has passed.