Today, I thought I'd exercise my newly-forming kimchi tastebuds by having a nice bowl of kimchi flavored ramen. I haven't had ramen in years--as a kid, I would eat the noodles raw, would beg my mom to buy the stuff, but I haven't really eaten it since I was an undergraduate. I suppose it's okay. It's not on the list of things I don't like, but I don't jump for it in the grocery store, either.
Anyhow, I boiled up my ramen as directed on the back of the package (thankfully, it had directions in English, as well as several other languages and alphabets). I thought, as it cooked, that it didn't really smell like kimchi, but that maybe it would taste like it. It didn't. I think there are certain elements of fermented vegetables that can't really translate into a powdered soup mix. It was hot like kimchi. Maybe it had more kimchi flavors than I thought it did, but it was lacking the acidity and sort of old-foot smell I associate with kimchi. I liked it, though. I guess that's a bit of a boring result.
So--since my kimchi ramen didn't really challenge me, I added another element to my lunch. I had diced peaches in light syrup, challenging both my fruit cup and peach declivities. Neither of those are on my most-hated list, but neither are my favorites. I ate them and I think I appreciated the sweetness and the texture, though I did throw most of the syrup away (am I supposed to do that? or drink it? seasoned fruit-cup-eaters, let me know). It was all very lackluster. Fine. Okay. Nothing special, really.
But I guess not every day can be the Fourth of July.