There a universal language to ramyun packaging. Red = spicy. Jin Ramyun is the exception. Had I bothered to read the front label at all, I would have realized this beforehand. The English translation on the package is “jin ramen (hot),” and Korean literally translates to “jin ramyun – spicy flavor”
1. Boil water: there are ikea-style heiroglyphics for instructions. They are under the fold of the packaging, so they don’t show up so well in this photo. But ramyun instructions are pretty much all the same, and they’re pretty forgiving too. Boil 1-2 cups water.
2. Add noodles: they’re pre-cooked, so you just need to heat them through until they separate and soften slightly. I usually use my chopsticks to accelerate this process.
3. Add veggie packet and soup packet: you can do this pretty much at the same time you add the noodles to the water. I think my dad likes to wait until the way end of the cooking process. When my mom does it, she puts the soup base in first and then puts the veggie packet in later. I can’t tell the difference either way.
4. Eat: Jin ramyun is spicy. The broth is blunt and straightforward. It doesn’t have the flavor of Shin Ramyun, and it doesn’t have the subtlety of Samyang Ramyun. It was just spicy, like adding red pepper powder or cayenne pepper to boiling water with a heavy pinch of regular pepper. And it’s not that it was too spicy. But that’s all it was.
I usually have no idea when people talk about the benefits of slow cooking a soup to marry the flavors. But when you eat the jin ramyun broth, you can’t help but think that it needed more time.
The veggies here were similarly blunt and monotone. It felt like there was a lot of green onions and not much else.
Growing up, we ate a lot of Sapporo Ichiban because we didn’t really like the spicy stuff. This Jin Ramyun reminds me of all the things I didn’t like about spicy ramyun when I was a child.