Yesterday I started my hypertrophy training. Today, I was ass-deep in estate tax notes to the tune of 115 pages. Today, I ate my lean muscle mass in ramen. We all know ramen is elevated as an obsessive art form in the US, ever since we discovered that the rest of the world knew how good ramen was long before we cracked open our first Maruchan. But I’ve discovered the intersection of boxed, laxy convenience and near-gourmet seasoning and preparation. Its name is Myojo Japanese Yakisoba, and it played the dozens with Nissin’s version and won hard. Sauce in the house, playa.The instructions on this detail, down to troubleshooting techniques, exactly how to prepare a bowl of noodles stoners and college kids with no meal credits have been perfecting for decades. Troubleshooting on ramen- in this case, informing you that a sauce packet may be under the block of noodles if it is not handily on top. Welcome to 2015, gang.Either Myojo is studiously trying to avoid strict liability or they’ve corrected it- the number of hot water warnings on this rivals McDonald’s coffee cups post-Stella Liebeck. In any case, I was deemed competent enough to perform the steps in order and prepare the ramen. I was skeptical of the pour-over method, expecting them tender as a guidance counselor, but by god, it worked. In three minutes, the noodles were cooked perfectly, pleasantly speckled with buckwheat and bouncy to the touch. Oh, and there’s a drain spout. Japan, I love you.Holy sauce! There are four packets. The vegetables cook with the noodles, then a pepper oil and dark soy sauce packet is added on, roasted rich with the underlying flavor of beef bouillon and thick. Spices on top added an herbaceous undertone to the noodles, but by far my favorite was the sinus-clearing, creamy mustard-mayonnaise, Kewpie by blood and assaulted with wasabi, the perfect mixture. With fresh vegetables and meat, this is damned near gourmet. The noodles soaked up the sauces without becoming soggy or too soupy, and the resulting flavor was balanced, nuanced, and begging for an egg on top and a re-watching of Cheech and Chong with flagrant disregard for the embarrassing amount of sodium, saturated fat, and caloric density. Back to whey and deadlifts tomorrow. Today, we canoodle.