Put This in Your Rice Cooker, and, well... cook it.

Another in my, now a series, of dehydrated noodle posts.



This is the specimen I am sampling today, and I pause to make mention of it because it is delicious. Not are the flavorings exquisite and the noodles superb, but there is real, hydrated stewed fish in a foil packet, which one squeezes into the soup when it is done steeping.

I realize this may be a deal-breaker for many. My mouth, unlike the majority of English-speaking palates, particularly delights in the oceanic, fishy flavors of many Asian foods such as dried squid and cuttlefish, various mollusk liquids and derivatives, and the all-tasty prawn powder. I also savor similar delicacies from around the globe. I love the Ashkanazi and Eastern European flavors of my favorite Gefilte fish, herring in wine sauce from the North Sea, the thousands of cephalopod variations from the Mediterranean, and anchovies, sardines and other small fry packaged and prepared in fashions from around the world. The other day I started salivating upon hearing a description of an oyster shucking competition in Sweden. I have even purchased food items with packaging printed in other languages, unaware of what the contents may actually be, simply because of a friendly-looking seafood character who looked delicious (like many of these dried soups). Recently I bought a snack-food looking bag, to discover it contained whole sardines, deep-fried to the crispiness of chips. They were good with beer, though I admit I couldn't eat the whole bag in one sitting like Doritos.

This habits often place me at odds with others over culinary choices; but of course, as the proverb reads, "more for me."

I am told from the ingredient list on this particular soup that the fish I am eating is basa fish. Basa fish is a type of catfish from Vietnam and Thailand, from the Mekong Delta and Charo Phraya basin (the packaging in in Vietnamese).

Wikipedia provides these interesting facts:

In 2002, the United States accused Vietnam of dumping catfish, namely Pangasius bocourti and Pangasius hypophthalmus, on the American market, charging the Vietnamese importers who are subsidized by Vietnam's government of unfair competition.^[4][5] With pressures from the U.S. catfish industry, the United States Congress passed a law in 2003 preventing the imported fish from being labelled as catfish, as well as imposing additional tariffs on the imported fish.^[6] Under the U.S. Food and Drug Administration ruling, only species from the family Ictaluridae can be sold as true catfish.^[7] As a result, the Vietnamese exporters of this fish now label their products sold in the U.S. as basa fish or bocourti.^[8][9]

At the height of the "catfish war," U.S. catfish farmers and others were describing the imported catfish as an inferior product. However, researchers at the Mississippi State University show that in their experiment, imported basa were preferred in a taste test 3-to-1.^[10]

I find it quite delicious. It's texture, at least in this packaged, pre-stewed form, is a bit denser than the American catfish I'm used to, but it works well in a dehydrated soup in which the other ingredients are light and soft in their re-consitituted form. I suppose I would have to do a deep-fry comparison to really compare to catfish.

This company makes the same soup in rice porridge form. If you have never had rice porridge, it's just soup with rice rather than noodles. This particular rice porridge inspired me to experiment with rice porridge on my own. We have a deluxe rice cooker, so it comes with rice porridge settings, but all one really needs is to wash the rice first, and add an extra cupful of water, and slowly simmer the rice rather than bring it to a raging bowl. When the rice is the right consistency, add ingredients, and you're good to go. Last night I added tofu, shittake, basil and parsley, and a bit of ginger and dry mustard and chile. Delicious!

Soup, out.

Dehydration is Delicious!

One of the many positive aspects of living in Portland (besides carting confectioneries to the coast) is being able to partake of the pan-Asian culture.

It's really hip (among the sort of folks among whom it would be hip) to say that Portland is really "white". Sure, Oregon was a white-only state before WWII, but I mean, come on: what about the mid-West? And anyway, that totally overlooks Asian, Greek, Russian, American Indian, and Latino culture, which itself is pretty much American now. Portland's no New York--but considering the things you can get here, it's pretty lush. You can get a "real" burrito almost anywhere now--but I like Portland for its instant noodle bowls.

Of course, you can get those in lots of places. I used to go to the Asian grocery in West Hartford, CT to stock up on noodles and Bee & Flower Brand soap. But the selection here is very good. Many high quality bowls and noodle packs, with the usual assortment of flavors, but in a variety of styles.

The thai noodle packs (like Ramen style) are very good--the seasonings are rich, and you can actually taste the different herbs rather than it having a static "broth" taste. The Vietnamese Pho bowls are also good, but not as good as the real thing, which I can get right down the street. The best selection, and also the best lunch, are the Japanese bowls.

I have never been to Japan. But in the Japan of my mind, there are an infinite selection of brands and flavors. Each person has their own particular favorite, and perhaps a couple of backups. These choices define the personality, somewhat like beer choice and cigarette brand. Udon? Heck no! I'm a ramen man!

So despite how cultural inaccurate this may be, I feel bound to test the waters, and decide my noodle brand.

This is tricky, because I'm sort of wishy-washy person. I like to think I am flexible; I always let others choose the restaurants, drink whatever everybody else is drinking, and am down to watch pretty much any movie. I drink the cheapest Union Made beer available unless I have a particular taste for something, I drive a hand-me-down car, and when I smoked cigarettes I preferred the first brand I ever bought. But with this noodle thing, I feel I've really gotta nail it down.

This is made increasingly difficult by not being able to read any of the labels of the products I'm buying. My eyes glaze over when viewing characters, and I only have the basest understanding of the different looks of Thai, Chinese, Vietnamese, and Japanese. If the characters switch font, like between an exterior packing box and the actual label, I might as well have started over.

The only thing I really have to go by are the ingredient lists, which by law are slapped on with a blurry sticker the moment the products reach our shores. I'm vegetarian (or pescatarian, if you must) so this is a good first step. Anything with chicken flavor, pork dust, or residue from a beef vat is right out.

Next I go to the picture. This is often a good indication of noodle style, and sometimes flavor, if there are "serving suggestions" in the picture. However, if the picture is only a happy jumping man with a bullhorn, I'm lost again.

Price is another good indication. Top of the line Udon bowls are typically around 3.50 individually. The cheapest ramens are anywhere between .25 and .75. I normally take one from the upper third and the lower third. I like to buy the cases, because I do use these for my lunch at work. This is not only my own personal branding experiment. It's also delicious food!



This is my current specimen, which I have just slurped up while writing this post. I have no idea what the flavor is supposed to be, but label tells me that there are fish, shrimp, and milk ingredients. It includes some sort of dried potato cake on top of the noodles in the bowl, and three floating yellow balls that may be dehydrated egg. I think this one is a keeper. The potato cake is delicious; it gets full of the broth and is easily sliceable with the side of my fork (yes, no sticks at work. I should try and get a hold of some. I would be certain no one would steal them). I save the labels so I can get the same kind or brand when I return to the store.

I imagine in the future, these sorts of foods will become widespread. They already eat them in Asia, which says something. It's way tastier than Spaceman Icecream anyway. In Cowboy Bebop, they have instant noodle cups with pull-starts, automatically heating it when it is opened. I wonder how big of an exothermic reaction one needs to boil a cup and a half of water? How expensive and stable would that be? I suppose somebody has already tried to figure that out. Then again, someone can probably read the labels on these packages too.