cheryl
Administrator
Staff member
The Cup Noodle Industrial Complex - Taste Cooking
In Japan, you can eat a different flavor of instant noodles every day of the year.
nder the bright, fluorescent lights of my local Family Mart (a convenience store with 1,600 locations throughout Japan), I gaze upon rows and rows of instant noodles—ramen, soba, udon, and even yakisoba—sold in shrink-wrapped disposable cups with peel-off paper lids. Packages with high-contrast graphics, boasting names of famous ramen shops, and pictures of noodle waterfalls glistening with hot broth compete for attention. But the gold bars and serifed red type of Cup Noodle (as iconic as a package of Oreos or a can of Coke) stand out—with a parade of constantly rotating new flavors.
In place of the standard Chicken, Beef, and Shrimp flavors I know from American grocery stores, the cups I see in every supermarket and drugstore in Japan include Shoyu, Seafood, and Curry—and usually Cheese Curry, Chili Tomato, Salt, and Miso, too. And then there are limited-release flavors that vie for dominance in the instant-gratification world of the convenience store. Each month, I watch for the red-and-yellow “NEW!” sign on the top shelf of the instant noodle aisle and sound out the names of the flavors that appear—I read Japanese about as well as a kindergartner after living here for more than a year.
In Japan, you can eat a different flavor of instant noodles every day of the year.
nder the bright, fluorescent lights of my local Family Mart (a convenience store with 1,600 locations throughout Japan), I gaze upon rows and rows of instant noodles—ramen, soba, udon, and even yakisoba—sold in shrink-wrapped disposable cups with peel-off paper lids. Packages with high-contrast graphics, boasting names of famous ramen shops, and pictures of noodle waterfalls glistening with hot broth compete for attention. But the gold bars and serifed red type of Cup Noodle (as iconic as a package of Oreos or a can of Coke) stand out—with a parade of constantly rotating new flavors.
In place of the standard Chicken, Beef, and Shrimp flavors I know from American grocery stores, the cups I see in every supermarket and drugstore in Japan include Shoyu, Seafood, and Curry—and usually Cheese Curry, Chili Tomato, Salt, and Miso, too. And then there are limited-release flavors that vie for dominance in the instant-gratification world of the convenience store. Each month, I watch for the red-and-yellow “NEW!” sign on the top shelf of the instant noodle aisle and sound out the names of the flavors that appear—I read Japanese about as well as a kindergartner after living here for more than a year.